AN:
Hey guys! I really hope all of you are still healthy and stay this way. I don't know why, but I was struggling with this story. I'm still not happy about it, but rereading and rewriting it again and again didn't make it much better. So I decided to post it anyway. I got the idea for the opening scene from a movie with Jim Caviezel. I don't remember the title, but I thought that was definitely a situation our boys could find them in. So enjoy and maybe let me know what you think about it. Still no medic and still no native English speaker, so sorry for the mistakes.
Chapter 1
A burning pain in his side woke him up. Instinctively he touched it and hissed in pain. He could feel a wet stickiness and looked at his hand. Blood. Well damn. He rolled on his side and pushed up to his elbow to get a better look. Carefully he peeled away his shirt and saw an angry looking wound above his right hipbone. Shot. Fuck. He touched his back to search for an exit wound, but didn't find one. So bullet's still in. Great. He felt sick, the room was spinning a bit and his mouth felt like a small animal had died in there. His left eye hurt like bitch and he felt the pull of a split lip. He sighed and started to take in his surroundings. What the fuck?
He was in a big room, kinda looked like a former factory. Several men were laying around. Two of them were obviously dead, sporting a bullseye. Whoever had killed them was a great shot. That left five other guys. They all were still out. What the hell had happened in here? Guns were laying near them, except one guy. He was a lean blond one. Geez, kid looked like he still belonged in college. He wore khakis and a light blue dress shirt, one of his thighs was bleeding. The fabric already dark with his blood. One of the others had a broken nose, another one had a bullet graze on his hand. The four men as well as the dead ones were dressed similar to himself. Dark clothes, leather, military hair cut. Only the blond stood out. With a groan he pushed himself to sitting. A gun was lying beside him and he picked it up and put it in his thigh holster, after checking it.
There wasn't much stuff in the factory hall. Crates, some rusty old machines, a work bench with some tools. A bunch of gas cylinders, one of them was laying on the floor. The valve destroyed. The only exit a steel door. No. Another door seemed to lead into a hallway.
The blond started to stir. A moan escaped his lips and he rolled his head from side to side. Ignoring the pain in his side he moved over. The kid didn't look good, he was awfully pale. His eyes opened and two blue orbs were roaming around the room, not quite focusing. „Easy there kid." The other man looked at the leg, it was still bleeding. He took off his leather jacket and ripped off the sleeves of his shirt. He wadded one sleeve into a bandage and pressed down on the wound. The blond screamed and the man said. „Sorry, I'm sorry, but I have to stop the bleeding." After a while he was satisfied and tied the other sleeve around his thigh.
The pain had brought the blond back to the present. „What happened?" He looked around the room and his brow furrowed. „What?" He turned to the other man, but the guy held up his hands.
„Don't ask me. I am the first one who woke up a few minutes ago, but I have no idea what's going on." He shrugged.
The blond sat up, but that was too much for his stomach to handle. He leaned to the side and hurled all over the floor. The other man steadied him. „Geez Hollywood, what did you eat?" He wrinkled his nose in disgust. When the heaving stopped he helped the shaking kid to move away from the mess. He leaned him against a stack of crates and waited until he had recovered a bit.
„Thanks," he breathed.
„You're welcome Hollywood." The man drawled.
„Why are you calling me Hollywood?" the blond wanted to know.
„Well, kid you look like you sprung right from a movie or so. Smooth babyface, blond hair, blue eyes and so on. Although when I consider your clothes, I would guess you're selling bibles or something like that. Geez, my grandpa wouldn't wear that," he frowned „well, if I could remember him. Tell me Hollywood. Who are you and who am I?"
The blond looked at him with wide eyes. He opened his mouth to answer, but a moment later he shut it and shook his head. Eyes searching the room for some clue. „I … I can't remember … my name." He started to search his pockets. „No wallet and no phone," he said disappointed.
The other man nodded grimly. „Same here. Whatever knocked all of us out obviously messed with our heads. I feel sick and you …" He motioned to the mess the blond had made.
The young man looked around once more. „Has to be the broken gas cylinder. Maybe a kind of benzodiazepine, a polycyclic organic compound, but I wouldn't feel any pain, so scratch that. Probably some kind of barbiturate, that would explain …"
„Whoa hoss slow down. I've already got a headache. What's with that mumbo-jumbo? Are you a science guy or what?" The man stood up, but immediately fell down with a cry, reaching for his injured side.
„Hey, what's wrong?" The blond crawled over to the older man. „Talk to me Mohawk." He odered.
„'s my side. Caught a bullet, it's still in there." The man gasped out. The blond pushed aside the jacket and lifted the blood soaked shirt. „Shit, that looks painful."
„What did you expect? It's a GSW not a scratch from a cat." The older man remarked sarcastically.
„Sorry." The blond ripped of his sleeve and folded it, then he used his belt to keep the bandage in place. „Not great, but it should hold for now. What do we do about our situation Mohawk?"
The older man slowly pushed himself into a sitting positon. „Why are you calling me Mohawk?"
The blond smiled. „Touch your head."
The man did and a grin spread over his face. „Dude, I'm obviously one of the cool guys." His smile faded. „But I'm pretty sure I'm one of the bad guys." He added.
„What makes you think that? You helped me." The blond looked confused.
„Look around Hollywood. There was a fight in here. Bad versus good. You are one of the good guys for sure. With that angel face and the fact that you are the only one who isn't carrying a gun it points in that direction." The man explained.
„But that doesn't automatically make you one of the bad guys." The blond disagreed.
„Yeah, you're right Hollywood. But the gun in my hand feels familiar. I have calluses, which means I use it a lot and I have a feeling that I have killed people before. And I know I have been shot before, because that sensation isn't also something new for me. I am dressed like the rest of them and you should probably get out of here, before they wake up or I remember why I should kill you." His face showed pain and not only physical one. He didn't know why, but he liked the kid and to think that maybe he tried to kill him minutes or hours before made him even more nauseous.
The blond shook his head. „I can't deny the facts you pointed out. But you could also be a cop or a soldier. I … I don't know why, but something about you seems familiar. I feel safe around you. You patched me up and I think you feel the same about me. Maybe it's our subconsciousness that helps us out now Mohawk."
„Maybe, but we can't be sure. Man that sucks big time. You really should go now hoss, you need a hospital. Better get out of here before they wake up. Why are they still out?" Mohawk wondered.
„Look, they are nearer to the gas cylinder. They must have inhaled more of the substance. And I won't go. I think you are worse off than me and I need to find out what happened." The blond stated determined.
„You are really a stubborn kid. Ok, Hollywood. I say we have a look around. Maybe we find something that helps us clear this mess up." Mohawk smiled and stood up, he had to close his eyes for a moment and hold onto the pile of crates. He felt a steadying hand under his elbow and couldn't help but feel grateful for that little gesture.
Hollywood watched the older man stagger to his feet, but almost loose his balance. The blond stood up, he ignored the searing pain in his leg and reached out to keep Mohawk from falling. „You ok? Take a deep breath." The blond froze. These words … there was something about them .. but Hollywood couldn't point his finger on it.
Mohawk straightened and opened his eyes. „Yeah, I'm good. How's the leg?"
„Fine." The older mans brow furrowed, there was a memory lingering, but he couldn't grasp it. „Fine? You look anything but fine hoss."
„Whatever, let's go." Hollywood tried to make a step but his leg gave out immediately and he would have fallen, if it weren't for Mohawks strong arms.
„Easy, maybe we should look around for something for you to use as a crutch."
The blue eyes brightened and were roaming the room like a kid in a toy store.
Meanwhile Jack went over and tried the door that led outside. „It's locked. Massive metal. Damn!"
With an eagerness that made Mohawk smile the blond grabbed a few things that were lying around and had improvised a rude crutch a minute later. „Wow, now I'm impressed Hollywood. Are you a kind of Gyro Gearloose, or what?"
The blond smiled. „It came to me easily. Maybe I'm some kind of engineer?"
„And a damn good, by the looks of it. So, I say we find out what's behind that other door." Mohawk moved slowly, but at least he could remain upright. He pulled his gun just in case and Hollywood followed him into the hallway. The factory must have been abandoned for some time. There was a lot of dust and old papers strewn around. They opened the first door that came into view. It lead them into an office, but there was only a desk and a few chairs left.
„That's weird," Mohawk pointed at the landline.
„Yeah the phone looks new. There's a message on the answering machine." Hollywood hit play.
There was an angry voice. „You idiots! Are you too stupid to answer a phone? Listen! Get every information out of that agents and then kill them. I'll be there in two hours. If you failed to make them talk until then, you are dead too."
„Wow, what a nice fella. Do you think we are these agents?" Mohawk wondered.
Hollywood slowly nodded. „Could be …" He broke off, suddenly swaying. There was something he needed to do, something important. In his mind the picture of a small woman appeared. He blinked, he was sitting in a chair. He couldn't remember sitting down.
Mohawk was crouching in front of him. „Are you with me Mac?" His eyes widened. „Mac! I remembered your name! Fuck! I still don't remember who I am, but you are Mac!" His expression changed from excited to frustrated back to excited.
Mac smiled relieved. „Yeah, that's my name. And your name is … Jakob … no … Jack! You are Jack and we are partner! I remembered something else. A small woman, a fierce lady."
„Matty! Oh man, am I happy, that we are on the same side. We are agents for the Phoenix foundation." Jacks memory came back in a rush. „But I have no idea, what we are supposed to do here, do you?"
Mac shook his head. „I remember everything apart from our misssion. It's still blurry, the gas must have affected our short time memory. Let's call Matty." He grabbed the phone and dialled.
„About time you made contact. Give me a sitrep. Have you completed the mission?" Matty was in full boss mode.
„Uh uh, about the mission Matty. We … um … we kinda forgot what the mission was?" Mac stumbled over the words.
„Forgot? For heavens sake. Have you been drinking?" Matty stormed.
Jack chimed in. „Take it down a notch Matty. We're in a shitty situation. We are in some old factory or something like that. There had obviously been a fight, where a gas cylinder was hit and knocked us and the bad guys out. They should be coming round soon. The gas messed up our heads pretty good. We only remembered a minute ago who we are. Mac's been stabbed in the leg and I'm shot. We're both not firing on all cylinders. There's a message on the answering machine. Whoever is behind this, is on the way here and expects us to be dead by then. We've got less than two hours. The only door is locked and I have the mother of all headaches. So now would be a good time to send us some back up instead of giving us shit!"
The director could hear the anger as well as the pain in Jacks voice. And the fact that he was reporting an injury and admitting to not feeling well, let Mattys worry skyrocket. „OK we got your location. But exfil is at least two hours away. This is gonna be a close one, I'm afraid you have to get out of there on your own. There's a forrest one klick east of the factory, try to get there and hide out until our team arrives."
„Snafu as always. Matty we have no coms, no phones, I'm not sure we even had one at the start of this mission. So we don't have a way to contact you again. Make sure our guys meet us in the woods." Jack was calm again.
Mac spoke up. „What about the mission Matty?"
„The mission is blown. Getting you guys out is the priority now. Don't get yourself killed or I will have your hide." Matty sounded casual, but they both knew how much she cared about them.
„Understood." Mac ended the call and turned to find his partner on the floor, panting.
„What is it Jack?" Mac kneeled down, ignoring the flare of pain that shot through his leg.
Jack shook his head. He tried to take a deep breath, but turned to the side suddenly and vomitted on the floor.
Mac rubbed his back and Jack sunk back against the wall groaning. „Ugh, remind me next time not to ralph, when I'm shot. That sucks big time bro."
Mac smiled. „Hey at least the bad guys will feel as rotten as we do, when they wake up."
„Yeah, minus a gun shot wound and a stabbed leg." Jack growled.
„Come on, where's your spirit big guy." Mac tried to cheer his partner up.
„Welcome to the party, pal." Jack said with a faint smile.
„You wann go with Die Hard now? Ok, I'd rather be in Philadelphia." Mac answered.
Jack chuckled. „I have no idea, where we are. Could even be Philadelphia."
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