Guard Your Heart
By: Ridley James
A/N: This chapter isn't quite as long as usual, but the timing and the events coming up in the story seemed to demand a bit of a filler part. I hope you have not given up on this story as I know it has become a bit drawn out. Thanks always to my beta Mary, who despite juggling many balls, had time to work on this part to make it so much better. Forgive any medical inaccuracies as I have of course stretched some facts slightly to make things work. As always, your reviews are so appreciated and quickly devoured. Enjoy!
RCJ
"You and Jack are the only two people I know who could go to a tropical paradise and end up in a situation where hypothermia is a real possibility." Riley smiled at Mac from the computer screen, taking some of the sting from her valid, yet unnecessary point. Mac blinked, clearing his blurry sight. He could see the flowered wall-paper behind her, and was tempted to make fun of the tee-shirt she was wearing which he was pretty sure had a kitten dressed as an astronaut on it and was so 'un-Riley' that it begged to be mentioned. He decided to give her a break considering the scare they'd given her last night when Bozer had finally come clean with what had transpired since she'd left to visit her mother. Despite the teasing smile on Riley's face he still could see tight lines of worry around her eyes.
"There's no real chance for hypothermia, you know. It's just uncomfortably cool." Despite the fact Mac's teeth were practically chattering, he made an effort to look warm just to assure her. He even managed to shift his pained grimace to what he hoped was a decent grin, a feat made easier by the fact that a team of doctors had decided a light treatment of pain meds was more beneficial than any harm it might cause by interfering with the toxin. Mac was pretty sure Jack's full blown temper tantrum had been just as much an impetus for the unanimous decision as was Mac's latest torturous episode in the wee hours of the morning. Mac didn't remember much of it except the more blatantly embarrassing parts like screaming and Jack rocking him like a baby. Mac really hoped that last part was a very bad dream, or maybe a hallucination from his high fever. He cleared his still aching throat. "At any rate, we at least we keep things exciting."
"I don't know about everyone else excluding the two adrenaline junkies themselves, but I could do with some dull for a change." Bozer harrumphed from his position on the edge of Mac's bed where he was huddled in a puffy coat with a blanket over his legs. Mac wasn't even sure where one found a winter coat on the islands, but it appeared several sizes too big for Bozer, almost tent-like, so Mac imagined it might have belonged to Jerry. Bozer was exaggerating the chill in the room. Mac was only dressed in a thin hospital gown and was the one with the fever, yet Bozer seemed to be the only person in jeopardy of freezing to death. Mac ran a hand over his eyes, cursing his swimming vision. The headache was dulled but not gone, making thinking so much harder.
"I'm with Bozer." Riley's face disappeared from the screen for a moment and when she reappeared she was holding another laptop, and a Yeti cup which she placed on the bedside table beside her. Mac didn't miss the pink lampshade, or the Hello-Kitty alarm clock. "A girl can't even get a vacation in without you guys finding trouble."
"Blame Jack," Bozer said, his hands burying deeper inside the coat's pockets. "Mac and I were all up for some nice down time at the beach. I even had a picnic basket packed."
"Don't blame Jack," Mac countered, coughing slightly when his raised voice was too much for the rawness of his abused throat. He nudged his roommate in the ribs, wincing when the move not only pinched at the IV in his hand but tugged at the stitches in his shoulder. He was pretty sure Bozer didn't even feel a thing through all the down padding. Still, Mac wasn't willing to let Bozer throw Jack under the bus, not when his partner wasn't there to defend himself, especially with the all too recent memory of Jack's distraught features as he left Mac's room a few hours before. When he looked back to Riley her fingers were flying across the keyboard of her second rig. "This is not his fault." Mac emphasized softly.
"Maybe not, but I'm holding him responsible for my late entry into the game." Riley flashed a glower in Mac's direction before returning to whatever she was doing on the other computer. "He should have called me as soon as you were shot. In fact, I'm pretty pissed at all of you for leaving me out of this."
"Hey, I wanted to tell you." Bozer leaned toward the screen so his entire face filled the camera. He batted his eyelashes dramatically. "Do those words sound familiar, Ms Davis? Like from the conversation we had after Murdock shot up my kitchen and destroyed the throne of lies I didn't even realize I was sitting on?"
"Whatever," Riley ignored Bozer. "I've almost got the lock on the second and third satellite that your friend Jerry hasn't accessed. Between the two of us we should be able to triangulate a signal to you so that you can keep a bird's eye view on the exchange, Mac, right from your comfy subarctic location." She looked up once more, her concerned gaze moving over Mac.
"What about the comms? Can you get me a feed on those?" Mac reached up and tugged at the oxygen cannula that was driving him crazy, realizing he was still trying to hold what constituted for a smile. The dull ache of pain reverberating through his skull despite the Tramadol buffer and the slightly detached feeling produced by the fever refocused his priorities. He hated feeling weak and especially useless. Mac wanted to be able to hear what was going on but didn't want to run the risk of Jonas or his still unknown partner being able to intercept their transmission.
"I think we've got that one covered. Jerry gave me the frequency and encryption Five-0 uses. I have alerts in place in case someone tries to piggy back the channel I'm going to link to your comm." Riley met Mac's glassy gaze. Her eyes giving him another intense once over. "Are you sure you're up to this, Mac. You don't look so great."
"I'm going to be a part of this exchange one way or another, Riley." Mac finally gave in and crossed his arms over his chest to preserve some warmth. He would have tried for reassuring once more but was simply too exhausted from faking it with Jack. His partner had been a hard sale, especially after what Mac had endured just a few hours before dawn. It was by far the worst in the series, Mac's fever pushing ever closer to the 104 mark which had warranted the external cooling measures now making him shiver. Convincing Jack he was still well enough to join in on the plan had been its own kind of torture.
"That's what I guessed you would say." She gave a put upon sigh, but added a slight smirk for his benefit. She picked up her Yeti mug and took a drink. "Give me thirty minutes, tops. I've got to explain to my mom why we aren't going ice skating and discuss some last minute tweaks with Jerry and then I'll be back with you guys."
"Ice skating?" Bozer frowned, again leaning closer to the screen, eyes narrowing. "Who are you and what have you done with our Riley?" Bozer pointed at his upper lip. "Whoever you are, you've got a strawberry milk mustache going on."
"It's not strawberry milk!" Riley said indignantly, flashing Bozer a dark look. Mac smiled when she quickly wiped at her face. "It's a strawberry smoothie. My mom is big on not missing breakfast."
"Riley, call me on my cell as soon as you have something," Mac cut in to the argument he could see building. He shifted his weight slightly, suppressing a groan. Despite the cool air and his shivering, he felt beads of sweat running down his temple. "I'll be flying solo here for a while."
"Where's Bozer going?" She asked with a raised brow, a slight frown on her face.
"I'm actually headed out to work on my part of the top secret mission with Dr. Kunha. The General's taking us to the DEA headquarters himself." Bozer piped up proudly, looking extremely pleased with himself. Mac noticed he'd added what looked like an ushanka-hat Russian soldiers wore in the war to his winter ensemble and Mac wondered if Jerry collected strange historical memorabilia like he did the conspiracy theories that Bozer had told Mac about. "It seems my expert talents are required."
"Oh yeah? They need someone to cook up some pastrami for them?" Riley asked, keeping her face completely serious. "Maybe some French toast?"
"Ha Ha." Bozer rolled his eyes. "We'll see who's laughing when I prepare one of the island's secret Spam delicacies when we're back home and Princess Riley and her astronaut kitten friend aren't invited to the feast."
Mac rolled his eyes at his roommate's antics and Riley's reply which was a one-fingered hand signal that was much more in line with her typical character. "Spam? Seriously?" He asked Bozer once he'd closed the laptop after Riley cut her connection without further comment. Mac leaned back against the pillow trying to ignore the almost overwhelming need to close his eyes.
"I was doubtful at first, too, my friend, but that corndog I had yesterday was seriously lit."
"Please don't talk about food." Mac pushed the computer towards Bozer with a low groan. He watched his roommate's face color with concern as he sat the laptop on the table near Mac's breakfast tray that had not been touched.
"How you doing, man?" Bozer eased in to eye him critically, and Mac regretted showing any weakness as he saw the mother hen feathers start to emerge. He tried to find a comfortable position on the bed, one preferably that put him out of reach of the circulating fan, and out of Bozer's direct line of sight but accepted defeat along with the inevitable cold. "You told the nurse you'd at least try to drink something. Should I …" Bozer continued, oblivious to Mac's body language cues that he should back off.
"Aren't you supposed to be meeting Hammond?" Mac cut in, trying his best to keep from shivering again, before the other man offered to fluff Mac's pillow or worse, share body heat. He rubbed at his eyes, trying to stay focused.
"Can anyone join this slumber party or does a guy need to be up on his hair braiding and toe nail polishing skills?" Hammond asked from the doorway of Mac's room as if the mere mention of his name had somehow conjured the general. Curie appeared from behind him, sauntering into the room as if she was used to going on frequent hospital visits.
Mac was grateful for the interruption despite the former Delta commander's teasing. "Are you here to get Bozer? He's ready for your assignment."
Bozer practically sprung from the bed, firing off a haphazard salute. "Wilt Bozer reporting for duty, Sir."
"How about you give us a minute, Dr. Zhivago?" Hammond jerked his thumb towards the door, a brow raised. "Dr. Kunha wants you down in the morgue. I'll meet you both out back at the ambulance bay in ten. See that you're dressed like a normal person before I get there."
"Did you say morgue?" Bozer's eyes bulged from beneath the brim of the fur-lined hat.
"You got a fresh corpse in your pocket, son?" Hammond crossed his arms over his chest, his shoulder half leaning against the doorframe.
"Uh, no?" Bozer glanced at Mac and Mac almost felt bad for his roommate. Almost.
"Then I suggest you get your ass moving and secure us one. I had Landry send you the specs on your phone. You'll be the better gauge of facial structure and skull size."
"Okay." Bozer gave another not so enthusiastic salute which Hammond ignored before his gaze once more found Mac's. The uncertainty from earlier had changed to concern again. "Can I get you anything before I go?"
"You've already got me what I needed." Mac glanced to the laptop that would keep him connected to Jack and the team. "Really, Boze. I'm good."
"Then I'll be back after I've helped save the day." Bozer gave the general a nod before heading out the door still dressed as if his mission lay in the wilds of a Russian winter landscape instead of down town Oahu.
"Jack tells me Bozer can make a mask and set a scene that would make the top make-up artists and prop guys in Hollywood jealous, but I have to tell you, Shep, that kid is weird even by civilian standards." The general stepped into the room, eyeing the vast array of machines monitoring his condition, and the fans which had been a recent addition. Mac noted he was dressed in cargo pants, a black t-shirt and combat boots. It was a uniform he hadn't seen the older man wear since their time in Afghanistan.
"Bozer means well." Mac relaxed his guard, not needing to keep pretenses in front of Hammond, who had never been much of a coddler. Jack used to say a man pretty much had to be missing a body part or holding one of his own organs in his bare hands to wring an ounce of concern out of Hard-nosed Hammer. Mac knew the sentiment was extremely exaggerated but was glad he didn't' have to worry about Hammond harping on how Mac was feeling. He narrowed his blurring gaze at the general, once again crossing his arms over his chest when he felt the shivering increase. "And he's my best friend, so tread easy."
"Here I thought Jack was your best friend." The general sat on the doctor's stool and rolled it close to Mac's bed, Curie followed close beside him. "I hope you broke the truth to our boy gently." He absently ran a hand over the dog's fur.
Mac gave a slight frown, unable to stop himself from picking at the tape holding his IV in place. He cleared his throat again, blinking when the tape wavered out of focus for a moment. "A guy can have two best friends."
"Or if he's smart, he could just get himself a nice dog." Hammond grinned as Curie put her big paws on Mac's mattress and let out a loud whine. "Much more reliable than us humans, without all the annoying eccentricities."
"There's always fleas." Mac let the tape rest and reached out a hand to lay on the big dog's head, Curie leaning into his touch. She licked his fingers, her tongue almost hot against his clammy skin. Neither he nor Hammond acknowledged the trembling in his hand.
"I'll have you know Curie is cleaner and better groomed than most of the men we served with back in the desert." Hammond ran a hand down the dog's lean back over her flank. "She has better dental hygiene to boot."
Mac's mouth twitched as Curie's tongue lolled to the side as if she understood what her master was saying. With another whine and a glance at Hammond who gave a 'go see' command, she carefully climbed onto the bed, stretching her body the length of Mac's. The added heat felt like heaven to Mac.
"She senses you're in pain," Hammond said with a hint of that concern Jack would have sworn he was incapable of showing, his intense gaze moving over Mac's pale face. "She wants to help. It's what she does."
Mac swallowed hard, not trusting himself to meet Hammond's gaze as the mere mention of his physical state further weakened his stalwart defenses. The need to just close his eyes and hope to wake up when everything was well and done was far too tempting and had him feeling like a child, instead of a grown man. Instead he continued to run his hand over Curie's ears, breathing steadily. Curie watched his face for a moment before laying her head on his stomach with a commiserative heavy sigh as if she understood Mac's desire and was helpless to give him what he needed.
"She can gauge my pulse, you know. Sense when my anxiety spikes. Curie grounds me when I'm on the verge of losing touch with reality." Hammond folded his arms over his chest. Mac raised a brow, studying the general, but stayed silent as the older man continued. "I didn't handle coming home from combat as well as I thought I would. PTSD is a real bitch. If not for Curie, I might not be here. It's not just me either. I've seen her pick veterans out in plain clothes at the War College, sidle up to them as if she knows exactly what's going on in their heads." Hammond's face remained serious. "I think she's psychic but her trainer tells me she's just that damn intuitive."
"Sometimes I think Jack can sense a change in my heartrate from across the room." Mac let his eyes flick to Hammond, giving a slight smile, before focusing once more on the service dog. He couldn't help but to think about the conversation he and Bozer had on the plane ride to Hawaii, Bozer's theory about Jack playing a sort of pseudo-service dog role in Mac's life. Mac would probably never admit it but there were times right after Afghanistan when Jack had been the only thing that gave him hope that he could have some semblance of a normal life again. Mac glanced to Hammond again, a new sharper pain in his head making him squint. "But you're right, Curie has better breath."
Hammond snorted, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Well, I'd say Jack's more junkyard mutt, but I suppose he's got the total devotion part down and he probably sheds a lot less."
"Sometimes he's loyal to a fault, so much so that people can take advantage." Mac's voice was harder this time when he spoke, his eyes meeting Hammond's, hoping his tone indicated to the older man that his words were not mere observation, but a warning not to exploit Jack's weak spots.
"Look, kid, I know you don't completely trust me anymore," Hammond ran a hand over his bald head, gave a sigh similar to the one Curie had earlier as if he too were feeling inadequate. "But I need you to know I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure you both come out of this in one piece. Do you understand me?"
"I didn't want to die back in the desert. I don't want to die now, especially not like this," Mac gestured to the IV, the equipment around him before meeting the older man's gaze once more. He needed to make sure there could be no gray areas between them. "But I'm not willing to let Jack sacrifice himself. Not again. This time I get a say in the matter, too. I get to choose what lengths we go to." He hated the breathless quality of his voice, the fact his eyes were stinging. Being vulnerable in front of Jack was one thing, but Mac worked hard to keep his defenses fortified around everyone else. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"What I understand is that Jack's never going to go along with any decision that doesn't have you coming out alive on the other side of this misfortunate situation, son."
"Then you'll just have to make sure that it's not left entirely up to him." Mac raised a brow, taking a deep breath. The air uncomfortably tickling his sore throat. "This is your operation, isn't it?"
Hammond gave a low growl that had Curie lifting her head and tilting it sideways as if she were trying to interpret its meaning. "I know what you're doing, Mac. You think I can't stand the idea of not being in charge."
Mac shrugged slightly, careful to not trigger another painful reminder of his bullet wound. He noticed Curie tracked the general's every move with her big soulful eyes. "I've known enough career soldiers to understand you all need to think you're in control."
"That's not a fault that befalls only us lifers." Hammond folded his arms over his chest, narrowing his gaze at Mac. "It's also one that strikes genius kids who think they can fix everything for everybody."
Mac stayed silent, not about to delve into his own need to manipulate a situation.
Something in Hammond's face changed, his thin eyebrows drawing together. "Your nose…"
Mac frowned, swiping a hand under his nose, only to come away with a read smear. He accepted the tissues Hammond offered but shook his head when the other man's hand moved to the call button. "Don't. Please…"
"I should call Jack."
"No!" Mac forced himself to sit up straighter, his hand not holding the tissue reaching out to grip Hammond's wrist. "You know he needs to focus. If we're going to pull this off, Jack's head has to be in the game, not on me."
Hammond dropped his chin to his chest in resignation before looking up once more to pin Mac with a hard stare. "You know you've been a pain in my ass since you cost me my most expensive whiskey and best Belgium chocolate all those years ago."
Mac removed his hand from Hammond's, his voice muffled due to the tissue that was still pressed to his nose. "Don't forget the sweet cigars."
"Oh I haven't forgotten, Angus."
Mac's grin came easily this time. "You could have always sent me back to my own unit that day, Perseus."
"Damned if you aren't still a smart ass." Hammond stood up straight, taking a couple of steps back. He clenched his fists at his side, giving Mac another once over. "But you're right, I could have sent you packing, procured an EOD that was actually old enough to shave, but seeing you standing there all puffed up and thinking you already knew all the best secrets of the big bad world, I just couldn't bring myself to throw you back to those Army ass-hats without at least trying to impart some damn wisdom, maybe keep them from getting you killed before you had a chance to buy a beer and get laid."
Mac wasn't quite sure if he should be insulted on his behalf or on the Army's. Knowing Hammond, probably both. "Thanks, I think."
"Then there was the fact you reminded me of someone I once knew, someone I once let down in a big way, and I couldn't help but to see you as some kind of providential do-over." Hammond's gaze grew distant.
"Jack?" Mac guessed, carefully removing the tissue from his nose, glad to see that the bleeding had stopped.
"Not Jack." Hammond shook his head. His eyes still focused on something outside the window, before his gaze rested on Mac once more. "Although I've let Jack down plenty over the years, I don't think he was ever as young as you looked that day."
"Why are you telling me this?" Mac asked as Hammond moved to study the machine that told Mac's heart rate and blood pressure. Following the general's movement made Mac's head spin.
"So you'll understand that Jack didn't have to twist my arm to get me to help him orchestrate that deal." Hammond faced Mac's bed again and Mac blinked quickly to try and refocus. "In fact, I was all for it. I took a vested interest in your survival that went way beyond Cubans and high dollar scotch, and maybe I let some of my own selfish purpose convince me that whatever Jack was willing to sacrifice was alright in the grand scheme of things it meant you got to make it to twenty-one." Hammond glanced at the ceiling, let out a puff of breath that spoke to how uncomfortable the conversation was making him. "I could have worked harder to broker a better deal, hell, I could have told you what was going on, but I kept my mouth shut, and even after Iraq when we almost lost that stubborn bastard I didn't say a word."
Mac was silent for a moment, letting Hammond's words sink in. "If it's any consolation I'm twenty five." Maybe it was the toll the poison was taking on his body, or perhaps Mac was afraid of leaving things unforgiven but he didn't have it in him to stay angry at the general. Despite what happened with Jack in Iraq, Mac cared about Hammond, was grateful to him for bringing him into Delta. Besides, Mac, better than most understood what it was like to want a do over, to desire a second chance to get things right. He also knew what it was to go to great lengths, maybe even unthinkable measures, to protect someone you cared about.
"It's not, but I appreciate the sentiment just the same." Hammond looked at his watch. "I better go. Our time line is going to be tight." Hammond gestured to Curie. "Will you keep an eye on her for me?"
"As long as you watch out for Jack." Mac smirked slightly, like the two were quid pro quo. "I'd tell you to keep him on a tight leash, but we both know that's just a waste of my breath and your energy."
"I'm definitely getting the short end of the stick, but consider it a done deal." Hammond patted Mac's leg, his eyes briefly meeting the kid's before turning to start for the door.
"Can I ask you something?" Mac's question brought the general up short.
Hammond turned, regarding Mac with a serious frown and another sigh, this one more put upon than the previous. "My brutal honestly quota is just about up, kid. And I have to tell you I'd almost rather gouge an eye out than have one more drama filled moment with you or your big brother, Jack." He ran a hand over his head. "I'm beginning to feel like one big dysfunctional family instead of one of the finest units the US government ever had the pleasure of putting together."
"It's nothing like that." Mac gestured to the dog, now practically lying on top of him. "Why did you name her after Madam Curie?"
"Hell, son, someone a whole lot more clever than me did that." Hammond rubbed at the slight silver beard on his chin that stood out in bright contrast against his dark skin. "I didn't get Curie until she was two, but even an unscholarly man like myself knew who she was named for. A woman who devoted her whole life to a career, to a mission, that she never even realized was slowly killing her. During all that work, a stealthy enemy was eating away at her piece by piece. I figured that couldn't be a coincidence. Me getting matched with Curie was practically fate, wouldn't you say."
The general didn't give Mac a chance to answer, turning and marching, stiff-backed out the door. Mac found it hard to swallow the lump that had sprung to his throat in the man's wake. Madame Curie was the first woman to win the Nobel Prize, a fact that was almost laughable considering. Talk about your coincidences. She was also the first and only woman to win twice, and the only person to win a Nobel Prize in two different sciences. She was on Mac's short list of historical figures he admired the most.
But now, the fact that none of her merits, none of those brilliant insights she'd brought into the world could change her fate struck a new chord in Mac. Like Hammond pointed out, Curie hadn't recognized the enemy until it was far too late, that dark and insidious predator inside her that was born from the pursuit of her accomplishments. Mac couldn't help to wonder at what the general had implied. Perhaps sometimes a man's greatest enemy, his inevitable downfall, was lurking quietly inside him all along, wreaking all sorts of unknowable havoc.
RcJ
"That makes the third time you've cleaned your gun," Danny Williams said to Jack from his spot behind Steve's desk, raising a brow. "I'm no expert on sniper rifles or anything but I'm pretty sure it's not required that they are sterile enough to serve food from."
"What time did Steve say he'd be back?" Jack dodged the detective's comment, sitting the rifle and cleaning kit to the side to stand and pace. He ignored the sudden wave of lightheadedness, a result of the concussion and lack of sleep. Nervous energy demanded he do something, the need for action and dealing with Nobel consuming his thoughts. He felt Danny's gaze follow him as he moved to the far wall, glancing out at the blinds to the main office area.
"He and Chin should be back any time." Danny propped his feet on Steve's desk, looking calm and collected. Jack figured a few hours of sleep and a shower had done the man good. He appreciated the fact Danny had been thoughtful enough to bring Jack not only another shirt, one without Kamekona's face as well as breakfast. "Did you get any rest last night?" Williams asked as if he had read Jack's thoughts.
"Enough." Jack lied, moving to grab the cup of tea Jerry had brought him earlier, absently pressing a hand to his injured side when the quick movement pulled at the wound. He'd have actually preferred coffee for a change, but even as weary as he was the extra caffeine wasn't something he wanted to add to the equation when he needed his nerves steady. Worrying about Mac was enough of a dynamic to throw into the mix and although shooting was like riding a bike, Jack hadn't stretched those particular muscles in a while. He gave Danny a forced grin. "I've survived on a lot less."
"How's your partner?" Danny gestured to the phone Jerry had set up for Jack seeing as he'd ditched his back in LA when the whole mess had started. "Was that him on the phone earlier?" The detective's eyes gave him a once over.
"No." Jack shook his head giving a slight grimace when unwanted pictures assaulted his mind, increasing the still present pounding. He chose not to talk about Mac's condition, instead focusing on the ladder question. "That was our version of Jerry, Riley. She's not exactly happy with me at the moment." He ran a hand through his short hair. "In fact, she's pretty pissed which isn't unusual when it comes to us."
"You seem to really have that effect on all your people." Danny said seriously, scratching his chin. "Steven seems to have better social skills, which isn't saying much considering his inept ability to communicate like a human being."
Jack rolled his eyes, fighting to not get defensive. "I'm merely on a bad streak at the moment. Typically, my people love me."
Danny tilted his head to the side, moving his feet on the table and sitting up a bit straighter. "Loveable isn't exactly a phrase I'd use to describe you."
"That's because you've only known me for like two days." Jack took a drink of the herbal tea, wincing at the bitterness. He had no idea what concoction Jerry had come up with but he'd seen him messing with the bag he'd gotten from William's girlfriend, the naturalist.
"Yet I had you pegged as trouble from the beginning." Danny propped his hands behind his head. "I've already been shot at and blown up. It's like my first few hours with Steven all over again."
Jack pinched at the bridge of his nose. He couldn't even deny that accusation. "Yeah, well, I never claimed to be easy to love, only that the people who know me best seem to think I'm worth the effort."
"The all too real threat of death does force a person to have a more forgiving nature."
"Is that why you put up with McGarrett?" Jack raised a brow, his eyes focusing back on Danny. He already knew the answer. "Death an all too familiar shadow?"
"That and my kids are rather attached to him. Steven has his good qualities. Add to that I'm not much one for quitting anything, especially family, so I take the good with the bad and increase my life insurance police every year and keep my will updated." Danny met Jack's gaze, a slight grin twitching around his mouth.
"Family should always be there." Jack took another drink of the tea, at least relishing in the warmth if not the taste.
"Except when we can't be everywhere." Danny took his feet from the desk, leaning forward, his gaze going distant for a moment. "I'm sure it sucks for you not to be able to be with the kid."
"Sucks doesn't even begin to cover it." Jack couldn't quite get the images from earlier in the morning to leave his mind's eye. Mac ripped from sleep, albeit a fitful rest, to be slammed with another round of torment from Nobel's mad science experiment. Jack had seen the kid hurt before, knew Mac was in the big leagues when it came to dealing with pain. Add to that the fact Angus MacGyver didn't dare show weakness or vulnerability and ninety-nine percent of the time only offered a stoic, determined sheer will power when confronted with mere things such as bruised ribs and the occasional broken bone. But Nobel's drug obliterated all of Mac's well-honed defenses like they were constructed of fine china instead of reinforced steel, leaving Jack charged with the task of picking up the pieces. Jack would say he sucked at that, too, but the word also failed to cover the spectrum at which Jack felt he'd failed.
"At least he knows where you are, that you're doing everything you can to help him." Danny's voice was quiet, void of any recrimination.
"Maybe, but as nice as sentiment as it is, it doesn't seem like much in the grand scheme of things." Jack tossed back the last of the tea, crushing the paper cup in his fist. The only help Jack had been able to offer last night seemed miniscule at best. He'd crawled onto the hospital bed, holding onto the shaking kid as Mac screamed until he was hoarse. Jack would have sworn his partner was being torn apart from the inside, although for all outward pretenses he was intact. There was only so much pain a body could take and Mac had obviously reached his limit, was way past it. Nobel had been right when he'd promised Jack he'd suffer, that Mac would beg him to stop what was happening, because Mac did beg. He pleaded for Jack to help him, which ironically made Jack feel like he was being ripped apart right along with his best friend. It was a side of Mac Jack had never seen and never wanted to see again. If someone had told him a week ago that he could actually feel more responsible for and more protective of his younger partner than he already did, Jack wouldn't have thought it possible. That misconception was proof that ignorance was indeed bliss.
"I would give anything for my kid brother to have known I was trying to save him, that I was doing everything in my power to help him." Jack was pulled from his dark thoughts not only by the detective's sudden confession, but by the change in his tone. Gone was the sarcasm and dry wit, replaced by complete sincerity. "Instead I'm pretty sure he died thinking I was pissed at him, that I had written him off." Danny clasped and unclasped his hands absently. "Matty would have gotten a hell of a kick out of the fact I helped steal millions of dollars to pay his ransom, that I'd have done anything to save him."
"What happened?" Jack wasn't surprised by the fact that Williams was capable of committing a felony for his family, after all, Steve McGarrett had chosen him as a partner and Steve was a man capable of anything if it meant saving someone he loved. They had never disagreed on that sentiment. Jack was only surprised that Williams hadn't succeeded in saving his brother. After all, he'd pegged Williams as one stubborn sonofabitch long before the man had confessed to not being any kind of quitter. The cold revelation that he'd failed at something as important as rescuing a brother sent a spike of fear through Jack's gut.
Danny folded his arms over his chest, hiding the flash of pain Jack had watched race across his face with a tight smile. "Same old story. Misguided youth takes one of many wrong roads, makes a really bad business deal with a very bad bad guy. Stupid kid gets greedy and thinks he can outsmart said bad guy. Bad guy puts a bullet in my little brother's brain and seals him up in an oil barrel before I can pay him back the money Matty stole."
"I'm sorry." Jack felt bile rise up in the back of his throat. Him dropping the ball in his attempt to protect Mac last night paling in comparison to Danny's personal nightmare. He'd once told Mac that having his death on his conscious would kill him, but looking at Danny Jack knew the truth. Sometimes a man just had to keep on living with what should have killed him. Jack was pretty sure that was a much worse fate.
Danny was spared a response by the buzz of the phone on Steve's desk. The detective picked it up. "What's up, Jerry?" Danny glanced at Jack. "We'll be right out."
"What is it?"
"It seems we just got a text on Nobel's phone." Danny stood, coming around the desk to start for the door. "Jerry said we needed to see it."
Jack nodded, but stopped Danny before he could open the door.
Danny glanced at Jack's hand that had latched onto his wrist, but stayed where he was.
"Your brother?"
"What about him?"
"What did you do to the man that took him from you?" Jack's face was dark, his voice void of emotions. He needed to know that there was more to the story, even if the fairytale ending was impossible.
"I killed the sorry sonofabitch." Danny didn't hesitate. "I just wish I could have drawn it out. Made him suffer more than he did when I put that bullet in his brain."
Jack had expected as much, but wasn't sure if the confirmation made him feel better or worse. "Did it help?"
"What do you think, Dalton?" Danny's voice held no heat, his eyes full of something like sympathy as he met Jack's expectant gaze.
"I think your kid brother is still dead." Jack felt deflated, exhausted.
"Exactly." Danny gave a slow nod. "Now let's go make sure you never know how much that really sucks."
Jack followed him out of the room, not liking the expression on Jerry's face as he handed him the burner phone.
"Sonofabitch!" Jack grit out as he looked at the picture, tilting it so Danny could see the message as well. It was a shot of Mac. Alone, except for Curie, who was stretched on the bed beside him, both of them looked to be asleep. There was a caption that read, 'Tick-Tock', followed by a number and the words 'call me'.
"Jerry, call HPD," Danny ordered. "Double the security we already have on MacGyver's room and make sure they have the photos of Nobel. I also want you to pull video surveillance from the time since Dalton left that room. I want to see who came and went in the last hour."
"I already gave photos to all the officers," Jerry explained his hand already on the phone. "Duke put his best men on patrol. They're stationed at Mac's door and at every entrance. He gave orders for only hospital staff and our people to enter the room."
"Nobel's partner could have passed himself off as staff maybe. We don't have any visual on him, or her." Jack proposed, swallowing hard as it sunk in just how defenseless he'd left his partner. He knew Nobel was trying to shake him, adding salt to the wound in the most effective way. Jonas wanted Jack desperate. "We need every person in and out of that room verified by Mac's doctor."
"Are you going to call him?" Danny asked, his eyes meeting Jack's, then going back to the message on the phone.
"First I need to check on Mac." Jack needed to hear his partner's voice, just to be certain. He handed Nobel's phone to Danny, making his way back into Steve's office where he'd left the cell Jerry had set up for him. He had never been so relieved when Mac picked up on the third ring, his voice scratchy and sleep rough.
"Riley? That was quick."
"It's me, bud." Jack ran a hand down his face, letting out the breath he'd been holding as he listened to the ringing on the other end.
"Jack."
Jack wasn't sure if he detected relief or concern in the way his best friend sort of exhaled his name, but he was too damn relieved to put too much thought into it. He paced in front of Steve's desk, knowing Danny and Jerry were watching him through the blinds. "You alright, kid?"
"Did Hammond call you?"
The question once more set off alarms in Jack's 'Mac radar'. "Should Ham have called me?"
"Do you know how annoying it is when someone answers a question with a question?"
Jack snorted at the exasperation he easily detected in the younger man's voice this time. He gave a slight chuckle. "Believe me when I say I have a good idea. Now tell me how you're doing, kid."
"I'm no better or worse, man. How about you?"
Jack looked up at the clock, doubtful of his partner's honesty, especially with the pained and exhausted quality in his voice, but knowing it was useless to push for more. "Oh, in the hour or so since I last saw you I got reamed a new one by Riley, had a not so peppy pep talk with Williams, and have been somewhat of a guinea pig for Jerry's new interest in homeopathic teas, but he is calling me by my first name instead of 'Agent Dalton'."
"Sounds about par for the course for us. Have you heard from Nobel?"
Jack squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm about to make contact, but I wanted to talk to you first."
"Are you sure you're okay? Did something else happen? You sound shaken up."
Shaken up didn't begin to cover it. "You know I'm going to get you out of this right?" Jack couldn't get Danny's remorse about the things left unsaid between him and his brother out of his head.
"Jack…"
"I've got to go, but I also need you to know something else," Jack interrupted, not giving his partner a chance to counter with an argument which Jack knew would include some long preamble about him not risking himself or prison to see his priority mission through. "I need you to know…" Jack sighed, shaking his head at his own inability to actually say what he was feeling, frustrated to no ends that three little words could be so hard to articulate, especially when they were undeniably true. Determined not to let Danny's regret from earlier ever be his own, Jack pushed past his emotional shortcomings, tough guy image be damned. "I love you, brother."
It was cowardly to hang up before Mac could respond, and Jack hated knowing that the declaration probably scared the kid more than offered any comfort, but he hoped if things did go south, that if he for some reason didn't make it back that the words Jack spoke to his best friend would someday be a gift, instead of a burden.
Danny gave him a questioning glance when he pushed through the door, to which Jack responded with a quick nod. "He's okay. At least as okay as he's going to be until we get that antidote."
"Duke's going to put a man in the room until this is over. Your partner will probably think its overkill but better safe than sorry." Danny passed Jack the burner. "Jerry's going to try for a trace, but we all know that's not going to be likely." He pointed to a window. "Steve and Chin are back from their meeting with the governor. They're parking as we speak."
Jack slid his cell in his pocket, ignoring the buzzing telling him that Mac was trying to call him back. He focused on the burner, punching in the number Nobel had sent. He hit the speaker button before placing the phone on the computer table between him and the other two men.
"Tombstone."
"Jonas." Jack clenched his jaw, imagining the gloating look on his former friend's scarred face.
"Your young partner's not looking so good. I hate that I missed visiting in person, especially after the morning you two had. My associate said the boy's screams could be heard all the way down the hall, but I'd have liked to seen the results of my work in person or at least had great video like I did for your and Steve's little surprise."
"I know my next lines are supposed to be filled with threats and promises of what I'm going to do to you for making the kid suffer, but how about we just go off script and I let you know that the meet's been set so you can get your jollies watching me off your old pal Quesan insead of tormenting Mac." Jack briefly lifted his gaze as Steve and Chin entered the room, Danny motioning to the phone before they could speak. Jack gripped the edge of the table channeling his anger to keep his voice neutral. "How will I get the antidote when it's done?"
"I guess you'll find that out when I see for myself that Quesan's dead from your bullet. I want a head shot, not a sloppy body shot like you tried with me."
"You'll get it." Jack said, praying the cadaver Bozer was convinced he could make look exactly like Quesan would be good enough to fool Nobel. He'd use blood packs like they did in the movies to create the effects of a shot to a live body. Despite Jack's concerns, Hammond and Steve had convinced Jack that going along with their plan was preferable to Jack actually killing a federal prisoner. Jack wasn't completely convinced but had to agree that shooting a dead man wouldn't weigh quite so much on his, or more importantly Mac's, conscience nor would it get Jack a stretch in jail unless the Army decided to prosecute. "But I want a guarantee that my partner is going to get that antidote in time. I hate to sound like I don't trust you, but let's be real, I don't trust you, you fucking bastard."
"The antidote is in a secure location and as soon as I watch Quesan go down I will send the coordinates to Steve."
Jack started to open his mouth to object, but Nobel cut him off.
"You can watch me send them, right before I kill you."
"That's not going to happen, Jonas." Steve stepped beside Jack, glaring at the phone as if Jonas could see him.
"Surely you didn't think I ever planned on letting Jack live through this, Smooth Dawg." There was an evil glee easily detected in Jonas's tone. "You're lucky I'm not going to kill you and Hammond as well, but I figure Hammond having to bury his pet will push him over that edge I hear he's been teetering on for a while now, and you, well, you knowing you failed not only to save Freddie but Jack as well will at least stick in your craw, Commander. I can live with that."
Jack gripped Steve's arm, giving a shake of his head when the Navy Seal started to speak again. "Where do you want to meet?" Jack asked Nobel, not completely surprised at the turn of events.
"Just keep my phone with you and turned on. I'll find you, Tombstone. You can count on that."
Jack looked to Jerry as the conversation ended. The computer tech still tapping on his screen.
"I got nothing," He admitted, glancing up to the big screen where a larger than life image of Riley suddenly appeared. "How about you, Artemus?"
It was one of the hacker names Jack knew Riley had used before her incarceration and he hadn't missed the hint of admiration and star struck awe in Jerry's voice as he asked the question. Jack hadn't thought about the two computer geeks knowing each other, but considering Jerry's distrust of the government and Riley's history, it wasn't exactly a far reach.
"He's rerouting through too many servers, bouncing off a network of towers. You said he's not a hacker, but he has to have someone my skill set or higher on his payroll." Riley flicked her gaze to Jack. "We're talking Murdoc smart if you know what I mean."
"How much of that conversation did you hear, Artemus?" Jack growled, flashing Jerry a scowl he was glad to see brought a flush of guilt to the man's face.
"Enough to know you're an idiot." Riley glared at Jack, the fact she was wearing some kind of shirt with a kitten of all things on it and sitting on the same pink frilly comforter Jack remembered her having as a ten year old not helping her attempt to look menacing.
"Well let's just keep that little revelation between us, darlin'. Along with Nobel's latest curve ball. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal." The voice that answered wasn't Riley's and as Jack tried to quickly wrap his mind around the recent turn of events, the screen split and Mac's flushed, scowling face now appeared proving Jack had been completely wrong about the impossibility of his day getting any worse. This was classic Jack Dalton luck. He glanced to Riley, who to her credit, seemed somewhat apologetic, then back to Mac, who only looked pissed off, though Jack could easily make out the weariness beneath the anger. "You just ordered her to keep me out of the loop."
"Well, hell." Jack dropped his chin to his chest, feeling the uncomfortable stares of everyone in the room. He sure as hell would leave an impression with Steve's team, and not a good one. He lifted his gaze to meet Mac's challenging glower, noting the subtle cracks in the attitude. The fact Mac was in a hospital gown, unable to hide the fact he was trembling like a leaf in a thunderstorm and had a giant fluffy lap dog draped over him was more of a deterrent to his attempts to pull off badass than Riley's cutesy shirt and frilly backdrop had been. He was paler than before if that were possible, or maybe Curie's big white body only accentuated Mac's lack of color. "I guess you don't want to talk about this in private?"
"Privacy's not really an option for me considering I have a couple of officers in my room." Mac glanced to the side of him, then back to Jack. "But I guess that's just another piece of information you were going to keep to yourself."
"We'll call you back, Mac." Steve looked to Jerry, making a slashing sign across his neck. The screen instantly went black, but not before Jack caught the flash of indignation and protest on Mac's face. If Jack made it out of this alive, there would be hell to pay.
"Sorry, boss." Jerry motioned to Jack. "Agent Dalton's the one who told me to work with Bozer and Artem…I mean Riley to set up surveillance and comms with the hospital." Jack rubbed his eyes giving a heavy sigh. He and Jerry were back to formalities. "Considering her expertise I was hoping she might have better luck with a trace."
"It's fine." Steve held up a hand to halt any further apologies. "Maybe just let us know who all's on board next time."
"Before I stick my foot in my mouth would be preferable," Jack added, groaning when he felt his cell phone start to vibrate once more in his pocket. He ignored it, knowing nothing he said to his partner was going to smooth over the fact Jack had pretty much conceded to what might constitute as a freaking suicide mission.
"Jack?" Steve raised a brow. "You know what you're doing?"
"I do." Jack met his old friend's gaze, but then turned to Steve's partner before continuing. He kept his eyes locked with Danny's as he gave a resolute nod. "I'm doing whatever it takes to save my brother."
To be continued….
PS. I have a special story coming up tomorrow or at the latest, Wednesday, which is a bit different, but I hope you will enjoy just the same. It's probably no surprise but it is Mac and Jack centric as I tend to be a purist when it comes to those lovely boys.
