They move as quickly as they can through the halls while still keeping quiet. Dalton doesn't know what's wrong but he knows the look McG gave him back in the room wasn't good. Every so often Amir lets out a soft grunt from behind him, pained and low. At first Dalton had looked back to check on him when it happened but he's stopped now because every time he see's the lines of pain creased into Amir's bruised face he starts to get angry all over again and he can't be angry. Angry means distracted and he can't afford to be distracted, not right now. There will be a time later for anger and for guilt and for healing, but first he has to do right by his team. Do right by Amir.
They didn't venture that far into the complex but it feels like forever on the way out. It's hard enough to keep their noise level low, but McG's carrying his gear and Amir and that's slowing them down. It's frustrating, moving at a snails pace, but it's not like they have any choice. Every time he looks back it looks less and less like McG's helping Amir walk and more and more like he's carrying him. McG doesn't say a word though, just grits his teeth and hitches Amir further up on his shoulder.
Dalton reaches up to open the door to the room they had passed through earlier when the sound of footsteps approaching echoes down the narrow hallway. He freezes, pulling away from the door and holding a hand up. He hears McG shuffle to a stop behind him. On cue Jaz crackles to life in his ear.
"Top, two tangos split off from the group, headed your way."
Her voice is tight and edgy. He doesn't respond.
Ahead the footsteps grow louder, and Dalton can pick out two different gaits approaching. He bites back the curse that flies to his lips. They were so so close. The door on the far-side of the room creaks open and the men enter.
"'akhi , 'aetaqid 'anani samiet shyyana bihadhih altariqa"
Says a rough gravelly voice in Arabic.
"hal taetaqid 'an ahdaan qad ja' lilsajin?"
"rubama , yjb 'an nakun mustaeidiyn."
There's the distinct sound of an AK-47 being cocked through the thin wood. Dalton grimaces. He glances behind him, and McG looks at him questioningly. At his side Amir still hangs limply, eyes glazed and distant. The footsteps draw closer. Jaz's voice asks for confirmation in his ear. He takes a deep breath and makes a decision.
Gesturing for McG to move away he brings his M16 up. McG nods, carefully pulling back with Amir. Dalton shifts slightly, getting into a better position. There's the sound of a hand on a doorknob, a slight creak as the door begins to open. As soon as Dalton sees dark brown eyes he squeezes the trigger twice, the loud pop of the M16 firing echoing in the small space. Before the man even has the chance to make a sound his corpse is collapsing to the floor, two round holes in his forehead. Behind him the second man starts to bring his AK up, mouth a round 'oh' of surprise. Dalton drops him before he has the chance to fire a round. As he falls though his arm clips the small table sitting to the side of the room, upending it with a loud crash that shatters the otherwise quiet air. Dalton swears. In the distance there's the sounds of shouts.
"Top, what's going on in there? I heard gunshots and the group on the east side is getting all riled up."
Jaz asks. He replies, there's no point in keeping noise discipline now when he just alerted the entire complex to their presence.
"I was sloppy. Preach, we may be coming in hot here."
"Should I come down for back-up?"
Jaz asks, obviously eager.
"No, stay where you are for right now, keep on overwatch. We're almost out."
They abandon stealth for speed, making their way towards the exfil point as fast as Amir will let them. Top moves a few steps ahead, clearing the rooms and hallways as they pass through them. Behind him he can hear McG quietly but urgently cajoling Amir onwards, can hear Amir's sharp labored breaths, and his stomach clenches.
Even further behind he can hear the distant sounds of shout and running feet, growing quickly louder. His fingers tighten around his gun and he looks forward. The window is just a hallway down, maybe thirty feet.
"Preach, we're 30 seconds out. Whatever you're going to do do it now. Jaz, meet us at the exfil point."
There's a chorus of assents over the comms.
"Moving."
Jaz says sharply, and Dalton can hear the sound of shifting sand in the background. A few seconds later there's a loud rumble and the walls shake, sending little puffs of dust down from the ceiling. Behind him McG curses emphatically.
"Alright, bringing the car around, you guys better be ready."
Preach says, cool as a cucumber.
"Jesus Preach, what the hell'd you do?"
McG bites out. Top can almost hear the smirk in Preach's voices when he replies.
"Just gave them a little reminder about vehicle safety."
Dalton snorts as they reach the window, turning and moving to the side to let McG pass him with Amir. Amir's looking worse, face white as a sheet and there are fine lines of pain around his mouth and eyes. McG's looking concerned too, and that more then anything makes him nervous.
"Alright," McG says, propping Amir against the wall, "This is gonna suck Amir, it's gonna hurt a lot. Don't try to help alright, just let us do the work."
The voices behind them grow louder. Dalton's jaw tightens and he adjusts his grip on his M16, keeping it trained on the door at the end of the hall.
"I'm going to go through the window first and the Top here is gonna pass you over, okay?"
Amir nods, the tiniest little bob of his head.
"Try not to drop me,"
He says, voice breathy and weak but there's the hint of a smile playing at his lips. McG laughs, strained but genuine.
"Don't look at me, it's butterfingers over here you got to worry about."
He says, jerking a finger at Dalton as he climbs to his feet. There's the sound of a door being flung open and loud yelling just down the hall, closer then before, to close.
"Go."
Dalton says and McG doesn't have to be told twice, disappearing through the window. As soon as he's out Dalton drops his gun, letting it swing to the side and turns to Amir, lacing his arms under the smaller mans armpits and heaving. Amir gasps, short and abrupt and pained, before he clamps down on it. Dalton grimaces but he can't afford to slow down. He levers them both up till they're standing, Amir sandwiched between him and the wall, head slumped against his shoulder. McG appears on the other side of the window, arms outstretched. Grunting a little with the effort Dalton hikes him farther up till McG can reach through the window and get hold of his shoulders. He can hear the sound of an engine drawing closer from around the corner of the building.
"Jaz, status?"
He barks as McG starts to pull Amir through the window.
"10 seconds out."
Jaz says, breathless. The door at the end of the hallway bursts open with a bang, and Dalton shoves Amir's feet through, not looking to see if McG's got him before spinning, hands reaching for his M16. Barely sighting he lets out a burst, and a man goes down missing half his throat, another with a bullet to the chest. Blood sprays across the wall behind them like some sort of gruesome Pollock painting. He ducks as the insurgents return fire, bullets biting into the concrete above him. Outside he can McG yelling something but it's drowned out by the sound of gunfire and rapid shouting. He moves to stand, trying to go for the window but has to pull back when a bullet whizzes by his cheek close enough that he can feel the heat of it on his skin. He curses, firing back.
The remaining men retreat back into the room, leaving the bodies of their comrades behind. It's bad on both sides. Dalton's trapped in narrow hallway with no cover, but the insurgents are bottle-necked by the doorway making picking them off as they come through easy. Still, there's lots of them and one of him and numbers are going to win out. At least, if they stick to bullets. Reaching into his vest with one hand he unclips an M67, letting off a few rounds at a rebel who'd gotten brave enough to peak his head around the doorway.
"McG, get ready!"
He shouts through the window, abandoning comms.
"Ready for what? Top?!"
He doesn't reply, pulling the pin and chucking the grenade down the hallway. It arcs beautifully, rolling through the door with a clatter. There are shouts of alarm but Dalton doesn't stick around to hear them, springing up and throwing himself through the window. Behind him there's the low roar of the explosive going off, heat and pressure following close behind. There's a moment he thinks he's not going to make it but then hands close around his collar and yank hard, and like a cork out of a bottle he pops through the frame and falls onto McG in a tangle of arms and legs.
Jaz hears the explosion before she sees it, feels it in her teeth. Her stomach clenches and she puts on an extra burst of speed, rounding the corner of the complex just in time to watch Top come flying out of a window and into McG, followed by a cloud of dust and debris. They both go down and don't get up. Cursing she skids to a halt beside them, dropping to her knees hard enough to bruise. Grabbing Top by the back of his TAC vest she pulls hard to roll him off McG and onto his back. He blinks blearily up at her, blue eyes bright against his dusty face.
"Are you okay? Are you hit?"
She tries to keep her voice even as she runs her hands over his body, checking for injuries.
"I'm fine."
He says, starting to sit up slowly and coughing. Behind him McG's picking himself off the ground as well. Once she's satisfied he's not spurting blood anywhere she sits back on her heels, a little gasp of laughter escaping her lips. He frowns,
"What's so funny?"
She laughs again, shaking her head.
"You look like a goddamn ghost Top."
His brow furrows, one hand reaching up to his face. He pulls away fingertips coated in fine grey-white powder and realization dawns. His face and the exposed skin of his neck are covered in concrete dust, presumably courtesy of his close call. He looks like he's going to say something when McG calls his name short and sharp. Jaz looks over and suddenly she just doesn't feel like laughing about anything anymore.
McG's crouched over a prone Amir, one hand on his wrist measuring his pulse and the other digging in his pack for something. Amir's face is shadowed but even from a distance she can see the bruises and swelling, see the pallor. She swallows hard.
"Where the hell is Preach,"
McG bites out, pulling a pressure bandage out of his pack. As if on cue a jeep screeches around the corner, wheels kicking up plumes of dust. Preach sits in the drivers seat, hands tight on the steering wheel.
"Top, help me get him in,"
McG calls, shoving the bandage in his pocket for later. Top starts to move, glancing back at Jaz as he goes.
"Jaz, cover us."
She hears him, but she can't quite tear her eyes from Amir's slack face, or the way his hands tremble a little as he reaches up to grab at McG's sleeve as the bigger man pulls him up.
"Jaz!"
Top barks again, and it cuts through the fog. She shakes her head, looks away from her team and towards the complex, rising in a crouch as she follows close behind Top her gun leveled at the still smoking window. Whatever Top had done in there had stayed done. Behind her she can hear Top and McG easing Amir to his feet, voices low and urgent. Her jaw clenches and she breathes heavily through her nose. This isn't right, none of this is right.
There's a hand on her elbow and she glances back to see Amir suspended limply between McG and Top, head hanging so all she can see is the top of his dark curls. Top jerks his head towards the idling truck and she moves towards it, keeping the muzzle of her gun trained passed her teammates. They follow, Amir's feet stumbling and dragging more then walking, and she swallows past the bile in her throat as she yanks the back door open a little more violently then necessary.
McG hops in first, scooting to the far side of the seats and swiveling, arms reaching out.
"Give him to me, careful,"
He says, hands reaching out as Dalton shifts Amir off his shoulder and into the truck. As Amir is maneuvered into the truck one of his hands brush against the window of the door Jaz is holding open. It leaves a bloody smear behind. Jaz feels her grip tighten, fingers white knuckled around the doorframe.
"Come on guys, lets get moving. My distraction'll slow 'em down but it won't stop them."
Preach interjects from the front seat, dark eyes watching Amir in the rearview mirror.
"Alright, he's in, he's in, I got him."
McG huffs. Top gets in after Amir, clambering between the seats and dropping into the passengers side by Preach. With a last look back Jaz follows them, pulling the door shut behind her. Preach is off almost before it closes, tires spinning sand up behind them.
akhi , 'aetaqid 'anani samiet shyyana bihadhih altariqa - brother, I think I heard something this way
hal taetaqid 'an ahdaan qad ja' lilsajin? - do you think someone has come for the prisoner?
rubama , yjb 'an nakun mustaeidiyn - perhaps, we should be prepared