OPERATION: AMIGO
For Fabkat, who understands my need…
Breathing, yes, but barely.
And here was Goza, laughing and asking for his money, holding out Kelly's sagging form in a ceremonial manner that would've almost been funny had Kelly been even one-eye conscious. It was kind of humorous at first, in an absurd, over-the-top exhausted sort of way. But just looking at Kelly now hanging limply in Goza's grasp, Scotty's amusement faded. And Goza, for his part, had only waved away the bill Scotty had dragged out of his jeans pocket and offered over, muttering something in Spanish about not needing it anymore. Scotty refused to take it back; now it lay crumpled on the carpet between them, valueless.
Going to his knees, Scotty yanked the pillowcase off the pillow resting at the end of the bed and gathered up the rope that had been tying his partner down. His gaze roved over every inch of Kelly, assessing the damage he could see – abraded wrists, shallow breaths, pale and sweaty face, the blood that had soaked fully half of the shirt back. He reached up to find a pulse in the clammy skin at the neck – slow and uneven, much like Kelly's breathing. Shock, strain…The blood loss needed to be stemmed, but the torturous position – that had to be treated, too. He slid in beside Kelly and took a gentle hold of the nearest shoulder, the touch causing an explosion of internal emotion that he'd been holding back – until now … Hoby, Hoby…not again, not again. Why didn't you listen, stay in place, wait for me? You're hurt again, man, so hurt. Why do you do this? You know I hate it when you do this…it took too long to get it out of her – I'm sorry, I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner. Aw, Kel…
"Time to get him out of here, amigo," Goza told him, stroking Kel's stubbled jaw with a worried look. "He doesn't look too good…"
He held onto that shoulder a moment more, feeling the warmth of quivering, strained muscle – I've got you, sorry, trust me…wishing what he was going to do wasn't going to hurt.
Kelly's head rolled as if he heard the unspoken words. He blinked, squinted – his dry lips worked. "Hey…" he drew out on a long breath -
-just as Scotty pressed the makeshift bandage pad hard against the bloody tear in the shirt.
Whatever Kelly was going to say next was lost as he convulsed, his head coming up off Goza's shoulder, his gaze wide with consuming pain. He opened his mouth… "…that – how you treat…?" And then he sunk heavily down with a moaning sigh.
Goza swore as he lost his grip. "What are you doing, gringo?" he demanded to Scotty, struggling to regain his hold. But Kelly, bless him and his strength, was coming to, blinking, taking some shaky breaths and mumbling something. "Take it easy, kid," Goza told him, handling carefully as Kelly turned a fuzzy gaze onto Scotty and tried something with his twitching lips that almost looked like a smile. "I won't let him kill you."
"Yes…well," Kelly gasped back. His head rolled back and forth; he coughed and shuddered, tried to straighten himself. "He's always – doing things like – that." He gave up moving and let Goza hold him, mouth still working. "You cut it – kinda close – this time, Duke," he rasped to Scotty, reaching out to clumsily tap him on the chest. His fingers curled into the edge of Scotty's jacket and hung on. "What hap'nd? Lose your cape or somethin'?"
No, Scotty thought guiltily, I had to cut her, just to get her to talk… "Killer traffic," he got out, knowing it was silly but needing to say something to squash the memory flat because what mattered now was Kelly. Kelly needed him, all of him – heart and brains and strength and everything else. And right now.
"…that right?" Kelly responded sluggishly, though what his tongue couldn't do his eyes could – even compromised he'd seen enough to make Scotty feel warm under his blinking stare. "And here – I thought – you were just…dawdling…"
"I never dawdle," Scotty managed a grin at him; he was talking, making sense – good good… "Dawdling isn't in my genes." He switched hands and reached for the thin pillow he'd just denuded. "Stay with me now, okay? I need you to stay awake. I'm going to tie this around you. Just hold on – let me do the work."
"N-not…exactly goin' anywheres, Duke…"
In an instant everything was smeared with Kelly's blood, the pad, his fingers, the pillow, even the rope he began to tie around Kelly's waist. It was slippery, sticky, tinting the very air around them with its metallic odor. Kel'd need a transfusion once they got to the hospital – he'd lost too much already, too much…
Scotty gave the rope a light tug to snug the pillow into place; Kelly spilled a little whup! and sucked hard for a breath. "Sorry…" He carefully lifted Kelly's hanging left arm – it was cold.
"Hey, hey – go easy there, Duke," Kelly ground out, backing into Goza's supportive arms. "Or my…good friend here…he'll have to hurt you…helluva fighter – right, Goza…?"
But Goza's attention was caught on Scotty's ministrations. "You know a lot of things, kid," he said admiringly, gesturing to the pillow bandage now secured with the rope.
"Yes, and I still have a trick or two left," Scotty answered, even as he had to shove back the worry in his chest that was trying to jiggle into panic. "Now…" Holding Kelly's arm gently in place across his chest, Scotty half-stood and yanked up the bright blanket his partner was sitting on; following, Goza pulled out the end on his side. "Around him," Scotty directed and they swiftly ensconced Kelly in it, crossing one end over the other and tucking it in. That feeling poked him harder –too much blood loss, too much…
"You know," Kelly began, blearily looking at their handiwork. He worked his right hand out of the cocoon, plucked at the blanket. "This really doesn't…"
"Okay, give him to me," Scotty said to Goza. Sweet relief filled him as he received Kelly into his arms…it's all right – it's almost over, just need to get to the hospital… Instinctively he curled Kelly to his chest, holding carefully, so carefully, feeling the tremors working through the lean body. Then the odor hit him, something beyond the sourness of blood and sweat. "Phew, what's that smell, man? Smells like someone tried protecting you from vampires or something."
"Didn't do too much good," Kelly muttered back, giving Goza a look that said not to raise any counterargument, even as the Mexican opened his mouth to respond. He twisted his free right hand back into Scotty's jacket. "So, Jack, what's next on – our travel agenda? I'm done with – this tour, if you don't mind…"
"We're going to get him down," Scotty said instead to Goza. "Kel, I'm going to put you down – don't let go of me, okay? Kel?" He got a hand up under Kelly's jaw, brought his head up a little, put himself fully into Kelly's eyesight. "Hey, hey, you with me, hm? C'mon now…"
"What…?" Kelly murmured. The lost focus in his gaze said he'd been fading.
"Down," Scotty told him patiently, over the little alarm ringing inside him. "I'm going to put you down so you can rest a little better – hold onto me, okay?" He waited a little until Kelly hunkered in close and adjusted his grip, sweaty forehead touching equally sweaty shirtfront, uneven breaths heating the fabric. In one motion Scotty turned and eased Kelly down onto the mattress.
"That was not your best performance, Jack," Kelly sobbed on a single breath.
"Not done," Scotty told him in soft apology. He hated to add any more pain on top of what Kelly was already enduring. But his partner needed increased internal blood flow – he'd been folded in half for hours probably, a lovely and terrible pose of torture – where had Hamp learned that one? Even bent over his heart still would have to work hard getting blood to his extremities. He turned to Goza. "Okay, his legs, easy..."
Kelly frowned up at him. "What now – oh, man, not that…" He closed his eyes, exhaled shakily. "I wish you wouldn't – dammit, Jack…" With care Goza brought Kelly's legs up onto the bed, slowly eased them into place under Kelly's moan. He was twitching before Scotty could even crowd close, get hands on him and begin to re-align the spine.
"Now the car, amigo…" Scotty said, glancing back to Goza.
"Yes, now," Kelly half-sobbed in agreement. He tried to nod. "That'd be good, Duke…real good after this – fresh torture you're offering…I'd appreciate the lift outta here…"
"Cinco minutos," Goza promised Scotty. He reached over to give Kelly's sweaty cheek a light tap. "Cálmese, mi amigo," he urged as Kelly's smile went into a wince. Goza chuckled at him and took a step toward the door, but then whirled back. With a booted foot he gave Hampton's nearby body two savage kicks, added a few curses onto the British agent's soul, then hurried out.
"That's my man, Goza," Kelly whispered trying to re-gain the smile as the other man left.
"Yes," Scotty agreed, welcoming the hand back onto a fistful of his shirt as he adjusted the blanket wrap. He glanced over at Hampton; he really should check him, and the other two outside, make certain everything was secure. And get to a phone, too. Soon. As soon as Goza got back – right now he didn't dare leave Kelly, even though his partner was holding up pretty well for a man so tortured and drained of blood. But that could change so quickly. "How are you now?" he asked Kel. "Warm enough?" They'd left the car far down the road so it would take Goza at least five minutes to return.
"Promised myself – wouldn't complain," Kelly told him. "But you always – make it too – tight…" He took a couple of breaths, then said in a much softer tone. "I…should have seen something - they had it pretty well planned, but…."
"I had it pretty well planned, too," Scotty reminded him. "You should have listened to me and stayed put. Instead you ran off – two times, no less. And I had a plane waiting for you and everything. Don't think the Embassy didn't frown a little at that."
"Wouldn't – wouldn't have found out – this was quicker…"
Scotty didn't reply to that. Quicker maybe, but not safer, not by a mile, and much worse for Kelly. Born lucky, he silently reminded himself, even when such luck was accompanied by a lot of pain. It could've been worse at any point, but here they were, Kelly down and hurting but definitely alive. As for the others, well, this was what happened when the spy game went wrong and traitors were involved. The case, for all intents and purposes, was closed, with just a little cleanup required here, along with that little mess he'd left back in Patzcuaro. And the requisite paperwork. Which looked like it would be completed by his hand – again. Kel wasn't going to be up for that task for a while.
"You get 'em?" Kelly asked hoarsely, breaking into his little reverie.
"We took care of them," Scotty confirmed, hands going to check on the placement of the bandage under the blanket. Okay, nothing had soaked through…but where was Goza? How long did it take to bring that car up the road?
"The Russian – Randolph?"
"Outside." Scotty nodded in the direction of the door.
"Tomás?"
"The knife thrower?" Scotty guessed. "Him, too. Actually, Goza got him – saved me from one in the back."
"Goza?"
"Yeah."
"How?"
"Well, he found a little retribution, you see – sort of an eye for an eye." Scotty's hands reached for the raw wrist – nothing to worry about there, though that other arm … "In this case it was a knife for a knife…Goza stabbed him – in the back."
"Goza…m'man." Kelly worked up a little laugh that didn't manage to get caught in his throat, though he was obviously dehydrated – but to try and shove water down him at this point could be dangerous – he needed intravenous hydration.
Kelly sighed. "Elena?" he asked in a tone of self-reproach.
Scotty nodded over the image of her in his mind, the tears slicking her lashes, the line of blood working down her arm, his fingers pressing, tight, tighter… "She's been – detained." He glanced away to clear the memory, but when he looked back Kel was giving him that familiar-we'll-talk-later look.
"H – Hamp?" Kelly asked next.
Scotty nodded at the crumpled body only two feet away. "Not going anywhere."
"Not sorry about that," said Kelly. "Can't believe – he – he…" He broke off, flinched, swallowed. "Too many years – in the business…I guess."
Scotty nodded. "I'll tell you about it later." He eased a hand onto Kelly's lower leg, massaged lightly. "Can you feel anything now?"
"Some…I tell ya, Holmes…" Kelly's breathing went a little shaky. "It's a – lousy way to – end a vacation."
"Next time I go home you're coming with me, Duke," Scotty told him before he could push the thought back behind his own teeth – why had he let that one slip out? But now he had to finish it. "You get into too much trouble when you're on your own."
He expected the usual Robinson protest, but Kelly only blinked. "Sure – okay…" His voice dribbled away and his hand fell limply across Scotty's knee.
"Hey now…Kel?" The words rushed out with a blip of panic. Scotty smoothed back some sticky hair, slid some fingers over Kelly's cheek; his own hand was shaking. "Stay with me, okay? Come on, now, stay with me."
"Here…" Kelly sighed, blinking again. "But you – could hurry it up…"
There it was – an engine running, approaching. "I hear the car," Scotty told him, squeezing his shoulder. "We'll be out of here in a minute – get you fixed right up, okay?"
"I don't think – he even knows how to drive," Kelly murmured, closing his eyes.
