Bozer woke up to his alarm, and this time, he didn't groan as he reached over to turn it off. The newly-trained agent sat up in his own bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. After thoroughly processing the compound Asmara was keeping Mac and Jack in, Matty had recalled them to Los Angeles; it didn't make sense to stay in Brazil, the one place they knew their friends weren't. She was right, of course, but that didn't make leaving feel any less like giving up.
With a shake of his head, he threw off his covers and stood up, walking out into the kitchen. The house was so quiet, now, without Mac. What was worse, though, was that, until Cage or Riley got something, there was nothing he could do to help find his missing friends. As a result, he was back to business as usual, working in the lab. Normally, he found the work soothing, relaxing, something he could get lost in, but these past few days, as Mac and Jack closed in on a week of being missing, it just felt like he was betraying them. His heart heavy, he went through the motions of getting ready for work, shoveling his breakfast into his mouth before he was out the door, his mind wandering of its own accord the whole drive to the Phoenix and the walk into the building. Before heading down to the lab, he popped into the war room, where he found Riley asleep sideways in one of the chairs, her laptop still on her lap. He looked at her sympathetically, knowing that this was just as hard on her as it was on him, and gently shook her awake. The analyst jerked, her eyes wide when she realized she'd fallen asleep. It took her a moment to process Bozer's face, but when she did, she relaxed.
"Hey," she greeted him drowsily. "You just get in?"
"Yeah," Bozer confirmed. "I'm guessing you never left."
Riley shook her head, "I can't until they're back."
"You find anything?"
Again, the analyst shook her head, frustration on her face. "I can't find the plane. I can't find Asmara. I can't find Victoria. It's like they all vanished without a trace."
"Well, do you have images of the other people on the plane?" Bozer asked. Riley blinked at him, not understanding. "I mean, if I were Asmara, I'd know that you know who I am, now, and that means you know my face, so if I'm trying to hide, I'm not going to be showing my face anywhere. But you have footage of some of the other guys who got away, right? Why not search for them? He's gotta be sending other people out for stuff like food, so someone, somewhere, is showing their face to the camera."
"Oh, my God, Boze, you're a genius," Riley breathed, turning her attention to her screen. "Why the hell didn't I think of that?"
"Because you're burnt out," Matty's voice made both of them jump and turn to the door. Their boss was standing there, watching them for who knew how long, again reminding them of a ninja. "You need to get some real sleep. Get your search set up and then go home; that is an order."
"But Matty—" Riley began to argue, but Matilda Webber was not hearing it.
"No buts," she said harshly. "Go. You're no use to me exhausted."
Riley hesitated, her jaw tightening, a myriad of emotions swirling in her dark-rimmed eyes. Finally, she nodded in agreement, and Bozer turned to Matty.
"Has Cage gotten anything from those guys yet?" he asked hopefully.
"She's pretty sure two of them don't know anything useful," Matty reported. "She's getting close on the third one."
"How close?" he pressed. Matty gave him a look.
"She's working as fast as she can, Bozer," she said evenly. Then her face softened. "Go get to work. I will let you know as soon as we get anything; I promise."
Not being able to breathe had become normal for Mac, expected. It was routine, now, for him to be searching desperately for air as water cascaded over the towel covering his face. Unfortunately, the routine didn't make it any less panic-inducing. No matter how hard he tried, by the time his torturer pushed his chair forward and took the towel off, he was always gasping, coughing, trembling, groaning as he tried to calm himself down again. The sound made Jack sick to his stomach, frustrated—furious—that he couldn't do anything to make it stop.
"Well, I'll tell you one thing," Asmara sighed, taking a sip from his coffee mug. "I am thoroughly impressed with your partner, Jack. I thought for sure he'd have given up days ago."
"Happy to disappoint," Mac gave a broken laugh that morphed into a grunt when Abel stabbed the baton into his shoulder. Across the room, Jack was shaking with rage—and pain, as he'd taken his fair share of beatings since they arrived, which he was glad to do, since it took some of the attention off Mac for a little while—with tears barely contained in his eyes.
"Unfortunately," Asmara's voice was harsh when he spoke, showing his irritation, "I'm getting tired of waiting. So I suggest you start telling me what I want to know before I lose my patience."
Jack looked over at his partner, and Mac met his eyes, shaking his head weakly. The younger agent was barely conscious in his chair, but his eyes still—somehow—were as strong as ever. The former Delta's jaw twitched as he dropped his head, only to jerk it back up when he heard Mac's voice.
"Shit," the blond man breathed as Abel picked up a corkscrew from the tool cart. "Oh, come on..."
Jack's heart pounded in his chest, watching Abel take the tip of the weapon and place it against Mac's left shoulder, adjusting the position to avoid the subclavian artery and vein, as the young agent's chest heaved with short, shallow, panicked breaths. With a smirk, Asmara's employee started pushing and twisting the sharp metal tool into Mac's flesh. MacGyver tried to hold back his cry for Jack's sake, but that didn't last long. The scream tore its way free of his throat almost of its own free will, reverberating off the cinder block walls to hit Jack from all angles.
"Mac!" Jack yanked against his restraints desperately, clear distress on his face. Blood seeped out of the wound, forging a path down Mac's shirt and arm as Abel continued twisting the weapon into his subject. Tears fell from Mac's eyes, pausing when his torturer changed his grip and continuing with every twist. Only when the weapon was screwed in almost up to the handle did he finally let go and step back. It took almost a full minute for Mac to be able to stop screaming, his trembling only getting worse.
"I swear to God, Asmara, I am going to tear you apart," Jack snarled, looking over at his enemy and feeling his anger flare even more when he saw the man smiling at him.
"You know exactly how to make this stop, Jack," Asmara shrugged, taking a slow sip of his coffee. "How much pain he's in is entirely up to you. I'm sure he'd appreciate a break."
Mac wanted to tell him to fuck off, but he didn't have the strength; instead, he choked out a strangled, "No."
Asmara laughed from his chair. "A glutton for punishment, he is. Alright, Mac; if you really want more, I'm sure my friend can crank it up a notch."
Mac's stomach dropped, looking up fearfully. The expression on his bruised face was like a punch to Jack's gut.
"Leave him alone, Selam," he snapped as Abel turned his attention to the cart, scanning it thoughtfully.
"No," the older man refused with a smirk. "I like the look on your face when he screams."
Mac flinched at his words, hating himself for letting the man use him to hurt his friend. Without warning—or even looking away from the cart—Abel jammed the baton into his wounded shoulder, eliciting a short cry before his muscles locked up and he couldn't move. Jack looked away, unable to look at him, feeling Asmara's smug smile on him.
When Abel finally let Mac go, Asmara leaned towards his hated enemy. "You better strap in, Jack," he chuckled, feeling a rush of excitement when Jack flinched. "It's only going to get so much worse."
Bozer practically ran into the war room after getting Matty's text, finding Cage, Matty, and a slightly more rested-looking Riley waiting for him.
"What did you find?" he demanded immediately.
"Them," Cage replied. "Or, at least, we think so."
"I'm about ninety-eight percent sure," Riley stated.
"More than enough for me," Bozer shrugged. "Where?"
"The guy in interrogation said that Asmara was moving them to the US, and said something about an abandoned housing development," Cage explained.
"So I focused my facial recognition on areas within five miles of such developments," Riley jumped in. "I got a hit in Nevada. Development foreclosed before it was finished, and I caught a couple of our guys at a supermarket four and a half miles away."
"I want you three with tactical on a plane right now," Matty ordered.
"On our way," Cage nodded, and with that, the three of them headed out to meet up with tactical and board the Phoenix jet. One way or another, they were bringing their friends home.
"Mac," Jack's voice was urgent as he glanced over at the stairs, behind the door at the top of which Asmara and Abel were talking, having left them only a few short minutes ago. Mac hadn't had a break for over three hours. The corkscrew was still embedded in his shoulder, but it wasn't the only bleeding injury. There were shallow yet painful cuts decorating his abdomen, each one slowly and carefully carved, forcing scream after scream from the young agent's throat. "Mac, c'mon, man; are you okay?"
Mac couldn't answer, no matter how much he wanted to assure his friend. He was just trying to breathe, having hardly been able to take a full breath between the water and the electricity. His shoulders shook with uncontrollable sobs. Jack felt his throat tighten, looking at him. That was it; he couldn't let this keep going. He couldn't allow his best friend to suffer like this.
"It's okay, buddy," Jack told him, his voice soothing and comforting to hide the defeat. "I'm gonna take care of it. I'll make it stop."
"No," Mac forced the word past his lips, having finally started to satisfy his lungs' craving for oxygen. "Don't. You promised."
"I can't let this continue," Jack shook his head. "I promised I'd get you out of here alive; that takes priority."
"Jack, please," Mac begged, his blue eyes shining with tears. "No."
His partner stared at him, his mouth hanging open, pure devastation on his face. But as the door at the top of the stairs opened again, he forced himself to nod in agreement, and Mac let out a breath of relief.
Asmara and Abel came down the stairs with purpose, and as Asmara plopped himself down in his chair, Abel didn't hesitate to grab one of the tools off the cart and walk over towards Mac, grabbing the young man by the jaw and lifting his head. Mac grunted in pain at the sudden movement, his chest still heaving with his panicked breaths.
"What the hell are you doing...?" Jack's voice betrayed his horror, his stomach dropping to the floor, as he tried to get a look at what tool their tormentor grabbed. Abel paid him no mind and forced Mac's mouth open wide. When the two prisoners heard the sound of a dental drill, they both began to panic.
!URGENT! THIS AUTHOR'S NOTE ACTUALLY HAS SOME SIGNIFICANCE SO IF YOU DON'T READ IT IT'S NOT MY PROBLEM IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE CONSEQUENCES!
So, if this felt like an awkward place to stop, you're right; it is. That's because I'm putting this next scene in its own chapter, so that those who would prefer to skip it, can. It is particularly brutal, especially to those who have a problem with or phobia of anything related to teeth. If that is you, skip the next chapter. It's fine if you miss it; it won't affect the story. Just knowing that it was brutal af is enough.
AT LEAST 3 PEOPLE HAVE TO SOUND OFF IN THE COMMENTS BEFORE I POST THAT SCENE. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR POTENTIAL EMOTIONAL TRAUMA.