A/N: Hot damn, people. Welcome to Chapter 10.

The most merciful thing in the world, I think,

is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents.

–-Gabriel Garcia Marquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

"It's been damn near six hours, where's FitzSimmons? The sun's going down and I need the cloaking back up," May demanded through the comms. She was met with silence from the team.

"Well?"

"I was with Jemma a little while ago. Seemed like Fitz was nearly done, though. I'll go check on them," Daisy replied, the sound of her signing off clicking through the line as she left the living room where the rest of the team lounged.

Mack shuffled feebly towards them as she left, gesturing for Bobbi to move over.

"Mate, s'good to see you again. How's the old brain?" Hunter greeted him, smiling widely.

The swarthy agent waved a hand in dismissal. "The stroke left me with a bit of a limp, but I'm otherwise okay. Jemma's got me on all kinds of meds I can't even pronounce. But I wouldn't worry about me, guys. I'm in safe hands."

They sat there in comfortable silence for a while, Hunter idly fanning himself with a Syrian newspaper. "Where is that bastard?" the British man mumbled to himself.

"Which one?" Bobbi asked playfully.

"Hilarious," Hunter replied sarcastically. "Ward. Haven't seen him in a bit."

She nodded in agreement. "I thought he was at the Pentagon handling some amateur break-in this morning? He should be back by now."

"Hmm, yeah. Maybe he snuck off with FitzSimmons on a little holiday," Hunter quipped cheerfully.

"Uh-huh. Ward. Third-wheeling those two lovebirds? I don't think so."

"You never know with him. He did jump out of the bloody plane for Simmons that one time."

"Life-saving aside, I don't think he'd be all that into being the proverbial sore thumb unless he had to. I think I heard Jemma refer to Fitz as 'bae' once. What does that even mean? Those kids..."

"Never understood those two either. Fitz seems like an alright lad, but I don't think I've ever seen Jemma at the dinner table. You'd think she brought the British manners with her. I know she brought our tea addiction," he added with mock venom, glancing towards the pile of empty tea boxes.

"Oh come on, it's just flavouring anyway."

"Excuse you, Miss America, but we use actual tea leaves in England."

"Whatever, you snob," she shot back with a grin.

Bobbi squealed as Hunter brought her into a playful headlock until she twisted his arm and demanded he let go. Mack rolled his eyes at them on the other side of the sofa, bringing an arm over his eyes in the hopes of taking a nap. They were jolted out of their reverie by panicked rapping of a fist against the window beside them.

"Guys, get over here!" Daisy hollered through the glass with a dire expression, gesturing towards the wing of the plane.

The three of them exchanged worried looks and bolted through the side exit, wind whipping viciously at their clothes when they stepped outside.

"Oh hell no," Mack said in denial, boots crunching against the gravel as he picked up Fitz' broken watch with a grim expression. Sand flew around them, stinging at their faces as they squinted into the sun.

Fitz and Simmons were nowhere to be seen.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God," Daisy chanted in alarm. "Someone took them. They're probably getting interrogated and poked and prodded and... tortured-"

"We can't jump to conclusions," Mack interjected calmly. "We don't know where they are or if they chose to leave. It's not the first time this kind of thing has happened in SHIELD."

He crossed his arms in a businesslike manner, and licked his lips before continuing gravely. "Some people can't handle the heat."

They all stood in silence, processing the situation with solemn expressions.

"But it's not like either of them to just leave," Bobbi cut in pointedly, adjusting the lapels of her leather jacket with a measure of discomfort. "I don't think Jemma's ever gone to the bathroom without telling someone first."

"Yeah, you're right," Hunter agreed fervently. "FitzSimmons are way too clever to try to run away. They're the ones who designed the tracker implants in the arms of every SHIELD agent since twenty-thirteen. It explodes if you don't remove it a certain way, and takes your bloody arm off with it. So unless there's a magical off button you can hit without triggering the device - just so they could make a run for it - my guess is they've been taken. No bones about it."

"So why aren't we tracking them right now?" Daisy demanded irritably.

"We need to figure out who we're dealing with before we can even set foot inside wherever they are. Unless you'd like to earthquake our way in," Bobbi reminded her drily.

"Who would take them anyway?" the hacker deflected, concern exacerbating the fine lines across her forehead.

Sighing, Bobbi poured her a glass of scotch and handed it to her wordlessly. The young hacker had a tendency to get more emotionally involved with people than necessary.

Especially Ward.

Oh shit.

"Guys, don't you think it's a little weird, convenient even, that Ward leaves on a confidential assignment at the exact same time FitzSimmons goes missing? An assignment that, according to the by-laws, we aren't allowed to trace until extraction?" Bobbi told them, raising her eyebrows to encourage them to catch on.

"You're not saying..." Hunter trailed off, nerves bringing a slight waver to his voice.

Bobbi looked at Daisy nervously, knowing full well what the weight of the allegations meant, specifically to her. The younger agent stood stock-still and completely expressionless as the remainder of the team stared at her. She looked like someone in mourning.

Mack clenched and unclenched his jaw, deep in thought. "Well, someone was responsible for poisoning me, and it sure as hell wasn't any of you guys. None of us have clearance to medical records and even Tremors over here can't get through security without authorisation."

"You think them disappearing is connected to your incident," Daisy realised. "And did I ever tell you how goddamn sorry I am for not scanning everything like three hundred times before that stupid prank-"

"Only about five times since it happened. Anyway, I checked the access records to SHIELD databases and guess who was given authorisation to access medicals last week? One Mister Grant Douglas Ward. Bobbi's right - it fits. Someone has a vendetta against the team and no one here has the motivation to pull something like this. In addition, we've all been on the plane together this whole time, except Ward and the other two. So it's either Ward is working for someone else, or FitzSimmons orchestrated this with him, which I personally doubt. Look..." he trailed off, a fearful glaze cast over his eyes. "We've lost agents before. Really, really good agents, who could never really be replaced. But SciTech are the heart and soul of SHIELD – not even Communications could survive without them. If Ward took them, he wants us all gone. When FitzSimmons aren't here, who's going to fix the Bus if we take a hit? Who's going to run surveillance while we're in action? Whoever wanted them knows what they're doing, and they chose Ward to run it for them."

"So we'll track him down," Hunter suggested, a certain kind of darkness burning in his eyes.

Daisy nodded vigorously in agreement. "We're going to find him, and then we'll find FitzSimmons. But after that, Ward is mine."

A shiver ran down their spines at the sound of her voice, rasping and manic with a quiet rage they'd never seen in her before.

"Jesus, Daisy, slow down for a tick," Hunter soothed, raising his hands like a man calming a lioness. "The man needs to suffer, that's for sure, but clearly he knows something we don't. Someone wants them or they wouldn't be gone. No one-man team could pull off something like that. Not even Ward. I've never been one for plans... but it's starting to sound like we need one."

The sound of May's steel-capped boots clicking against the floor filled the room, and they all turned to her expectantly. She'd been listening to the whole conversation through the comms without saying a word, and now it was her turn to speak.

"So what are we waiting for?" May began calmly. "Get tracking."