AN: Thank you to all those still reading and reviewing. I'm pretty sure we're almost at the end!
Chapter 7
Mac put Jack's right arm around his shoulders and helped the man stand up. He could see that Jack was hurting, and that taking out the guard had sapped all his remaining strength. It killed Mac to see his friend so hurt and bruised, but the bombs were also an imminent threat. Mac needed to work out what to do. He placed Jack down against one of the desks, making sure he was as comfortable as he could be, before moving over to the next desk, where the bombs had been hidden.
Mac checked the bombs for mercury switches – as they were meant to be worn, he assumed there wouldn't be any, but better safe than sorry – and, seeing there were none, he picked up the bombs and placed them carefully on top of the desk. The first trigger Mac found on each was a command wire, connected to a red button. These buttons would enable the wearer – Mac and Jack in this case – to set off the bombs themselves. Mac continued to look carefully around the vests and at each wire. He guessed that there would be a second trigger on these vests. Common sense told him that, if Mac and Jack refused to press the buttons, Loucura would need a way to set off the vests anyway. They wouldn't be stupid enough to send them into the building with bombs that could only be exploded by their unwilling 'volunteers', surely.
Mac soon discovered the answer: no, they were not that stupid. Loucura had indeed planned for every eventuality, as Mac discovered a concealed mobile phone trigger on each of the devices. These could go off at any point, if Loucura chose to ring the phones and trigger the devices themselves. Mac, with as much optimism as he could muster, tried to assume that this wouldn't happen immediately. Loucura wanted Mac and Jack in prime position, in the conference room with the Brazilian president, and they were not there yet.
"You OK, Mac?" Jack's voice was still raspy and weak, but he couldn't see what Mac was up to from his position on the floor, and his curiosity was getting the better of him.
"Erm, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine Jack." Mac began, sounding anything other than fine, "I'm just trying to figure out if these bombs are going to kill us immediately or if we have a little bit of time first."
"Great. On the bright side, if we get blown up, I won't be so worried about how much my head is pounding." Jack joked.
"I'll try my best not to get us blown up," Mac assured his friend.
"Anything I can do from here?" Jack asked, not really thinking he could be much help at all.
"Know any good prayers?"
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Matty had been in the war room alone for a good half hour. Riley and Bozer couldn't be sure how long exactly, as they had been sat the whole time on the stairs, waiting for their boss to call them back in. They had barely moved and hadn't had much to say, other than to speak reassurance to one another every now and then.
All of a sudden, they saw their boss smile. They knew she had figured something out, and they prepared to be summoned back into the room. Matty turned and waved her hand at them, to do just that. They dashed into the room, not needing to ask anything; Matty was more than eager to share.
"I should have noticed this right away. I can't believe it took me this long to spot it," she began. Riley and Bozer simply waited for her to reveal the big idea. "Here, Riley, your map gets a bit vague and disjointed in this part of Beverly Hills."
"Yeah," Riley explained, "it was weird. The van used a few alleys and shortcuts. They drove around randomly, like they didn't know where they were going."
"Yes," Matty responded, excitedly, "but they knew exactly what they were doing. They were vague on purpose. They were trying to cover their tracks and throw us off the scent. Unfortunately, their plan actually worked, and I didn't think of it before."
"Think of what?" Bozer asked, impatient.
"Here," Matty pointed at the map where the van seemed to disappear in Beverly Hills, "Wilshire Boulevard." Matty turned and looked directly at her two younger agents: "That's the address of the Consulate General of Brazil. I believe that Mac and Jack have been taken to the Brazilian embassy."
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Mac was still following the wires from the mobile phone triggers to the detonators they were connected to. He wanted to work as quickly as he could but knew that his age-old motto of 'be careful' still applied in this situation too. Loucura could make the call at any moment and trigger the bombs. If Mac could cut the connection between the phones and the bombs, then the only way they could be detonated would be via their command wires, making them less of a threat.
He found the wire he needed and started rooting around in the pockets of his jeans. He knew that he had managed to pick up a small pair of scissors whilst running through the basement, and it was these that he needed. Having found them, he cut the correct wire on the first bomb, and then the second. He breathed deeply, knowing that he and Jack were now in no immediate danger. Not from the bombs, anyway. Mac wasn't exactly sure where they were, but he had guessed – by the fact that the Brazilian president would be visiting this building later that day, and his estimation of where they were in LA – that they were most likely in the Consulate General of Brazil. If this were the case, he had no idea how we would be able to explain their presence if they were discovered. How could they possibly justify the presence of two American government agents in a foreign embassy? Oh, and being in the possession of two bomb vests.
Mac, however, knew that he needed to check on his friend. Jack had been through the ringer and, while he said he was OK, Mac knew him well enough to know that was not the whole truth. The bombs were not an immediate risk, though being in the same room as that much explosive still made Mac nervous when he knew they had nowhere to go. Mac left the bombs on the desk and went over to Jack, still sat on the floor, leant against another of the desks.
"Hey, Jack," Mac said gently. Jack had his eyes closed, and Mac didn't want to startle him, "how you holding up?"
"Never been better," Jack mumbled, eyes still closed. Jack forced himself to open his eyes and saw Mac had sat down on the floor in front of him. "Any ideas on how you're gonna get out of here?"
"I'm not going without you, Jack. You know that. And I'm still working on that." Mac answered, honestly. "I want to know how you are," Mac pushed, "and I mean truthfully."
"OK," Jack sighed, and prepared himself to list the things he knew were wrong with him. He told Mac about his broken ribs, bruised jaw, a few broken fingers, sore joints and his suspected concussion.
"I know you have a thick head, Jack," Mac grinned, "but at this point I'd be more worried about you if you didn't have a concussion." When Jack looked at him with a frown, Mac continued, "you've been hit over the head a lot today, dude." Mac suspected that Jack was still keeping something from him, though, and pushed further: "Anything else?"
"Well…" Jack hesitated, but knew he needed to tell his friend the truth. "My arm," Jack said, defeated, "I know they dislocated it. My hand is kinda starting to tingle."
Mac looked at Jack's left arm and observed how it sat limply in his lap. Jack hadn't lifted it or used his left hand since Mac had sat down opposite him. Jack had used his right arm to point out and list all the things wrong with him, counting them out on the fingers of his right hand.
"We need to put your shoulder back in," Mac told him. "We can't risk waiting for us to get out of here, and who knows what damage you could do if we just leave it."
Jack simply groaned in response, but knew his friend was right. Mac was always right. Jack allowed Mac to grab hold of his left arm, holding it at the elbow and wrist. Jack appreciated how Mac was careful not to grab too close to the aggravated bullet wound, and realised that it felt like a lifetime ago that he had received that injury. Jack looked away as Mac pulled the arm up, till it was perpendicular to Jack's torso.
"OK, Jack," Mac began, "you ready?" When Jack nodded, Mac told his friend to take a deep breath and counted down from 5. Mac, knowing Jack like he did, pulled the arm on 3. The early pull caught Jack unaware and he yelled in pain as the shoulder popped and went back into place. Mac quickly grabbed a sheet from the basket and created a sling for his partner, muttering 'I'm sorry' under his breath a dozen times. It sucked when Jack was in pain. It sucked more when he was the cause of it. "I'm so sorry," Mac said finally, "Jack, are you doing OK?"
"Mm-hmm" Jack grunted, through gritted teeth. He took a few slow, deep breaths and regained his composure. The relocation had hurt like hell, but his arm sure felt better now it was done. Jack opened his eyes – he hadn't realised he'd closed them till now – and smiled at Mac. He knew it would reassure him, and he didn't want Mac to feel guilty. None of this was his fault, after all. This, all of this, was down to Loucura.
"OK, well, if you're sure, I need to finish disarming those bombs." Mac responded.
"What?!" Jack half-yelled incredulously, "the freakin' bombs are still armed? What the heck are you doing down here? My shoulder won't matter at all if the two of us end up being blown to high heaven, will it?!"
Mac began explaining about the different detonators and triggers, letting Jack know that the type of trigger meant they weren't in danger of blowing up at any second, but realised that it was pointless when Jack looked at him exasperated and confused. He stopped himself and, instead, went back over to the bombs to work out how to disable to second triggers and make the bombs safe. He was busy following wires and carefully examining detonators when he heard Jack swear.
"Mac," Jack continued, "how close are you to disarming those bombs?"
"I think I'm pretty close," Mac admitted, "but I want to be sure I cut the right wire, obviously. The bombs are more sophisticated than they look. Loucura are better at bomb making than I would've imagined."
"OK," Jack replied, "you might wanna step up that timetable."
"Why?"
"Check the door," Jack answered, simply.
Mac looked up from what he was doing, towards to door and the window beside it. He saw what Jack did and repeated the same swear word. There, staring at them both, like a deer in the headlights, was a member of staff. He was wearing a lanyard around his neck, which made Mac and Jack assume he worked in the other offices here. He was looking from Jack to Mac, and then his eyes landed on the bombs in Mac's hands. He stared for a moment longer and then ran down the corridor, back to the office he had come from.
"Well, that might've made things a little more complicated," Mac admitted.
"Ya think?" Jack croaked, "Any more of your trademark bright ideas?"
