Defying Physics
By: Ridley C. James
A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Hannukah, and all the other beautiful holidays being celebrated this season. I am a sucker for Christmas, for so many reasons, the ultimate one being the coming of Jesus, but also because it seems to make everyone a little softer and so much kinder. I hope the day finds you surrounded by those you love, and if not, I wish you peace and comfort. This is a bit of a love letter to the soldiers, police officers, fire fighters and first responders who sacrifice to keep us safe. It is also a gift to the wonderful friends I have made in this MacGyver fandom. You are such gifts. Thanks to Mary who made this so much better, and please note that Boxer and Cooper belong to the talented Gib-who is a hero in her own right! PS-This is set in the Between Brothers Universe so definitely reading Fireflies in the Rain first!
RcJ
"Love is when the other person's happiness is more important than your own." –H. Jackson Brown, Jr
"That is a mighty fine tree, Wyatt." Beth Dalton was nestled on her leather sofa in Austin, Texas some eight thousand miles away, but when she leaned closer to the computer screen checking out her grandson and the two foot pine that sat on the makeshift table just beyond his shoulder, Jack could almost imagine catching a whiff of her familiar scent-vanilla and lavender, the slightest hint of turpentine from hours spent in her art studio.
"Operation Christmas Tree at its finest." Jack jerked his thumb towards the gift that had arrived a week after Thanksgiving. He was quite certain the woman before him knew good and well how the tree had found its way across the desert to Kabul, but she pretended to be unaware.
"What a nice surprise." Beth declared, her southern accent ringing clear as a bell over the speaker as if Jack was in the room with her, instead of the temporary quarters his unit currently found themselves stationed. It struck a pang of homesickness he promised himself he wasn't going to feel, so he bit the inside of his cheek to keep the overpowering longing in check as Beth re-situated herself on the couch. She tucked her feet beneath her like she did when Jack was boy and she'd have him climb up next to her for a story. Instead of Jack, Dodger the piglet who'd seemed to double in size since Thanksgiving was nestled on his back at her side. Beth scratched the pig's exposed belly, eliciting low rapturous grunts of pleasure. "How fortuitous that Angus and I sent you that strung popcorn and those beautiful paper snowflakes."
"Very fortuitous." Jack studied the tree with fondness replacing the feelings of melancholy with thoughts of the big kick he and his unit had gotten out of decorating it. Any tiny bit of Christmas joy was appreciated considering the bleakness of their current deployment. They'd even played Christmas music loud enough to drown out the distant thunder of shelling that seemed to never stop. Most of the songs were in Spanish, having been contributed by their teammate Big Sal, his simple handle spurning from the fact his given moniker was a run on sentence of names that none of them besides their language specialist could pronounce before ending with the simple Salazar. "Mac must have spent hours cutting out all those snowflakes," Jack gestured to one of the intricate patterns, returning his gaze to the screen. The guys were impressed that the kid made them all different. They go really well with the rifle cartridges Box used for ornaments."
"I prefer those spent shells to the bottle caps I can see from here." Beth shook her head, clucking her tongue. A strand of her came loose from her braid, curtaining her face. "I suppose those are all from colas?"
"Of course," Jack's grin widened, thinking of the stash of beer he and the boys had drunk on their day off. "You know how we good southern boys love our colas, but don't go fretting about my teeth rotting out because most of those were contributed by Coop."
"Then I am more worried about Cooper's liver going to waste than I am your oral hygiene." Beth tucked her hair behind her ear, picking up her tea. She shot Jack a knowing look over the rim as she took a careful sip, her dark eyes twinkling with mirth.
"I'll be sure to impart your concern to him, Nana." Jack would relate to his teammate how he'd thrown him under the bus just to get the big New Yorker riled.
"Should I remind you that getting fresh this close to Christmas could be a great tactical error on your part?" Beth returned the tea cup to the table beside her.
"Are you seriously cautioning me from ending up on Santa's Naughty List?" Jack chided knowing good and well it was not beyond his grandmother to fill his stocking full of coal and a bundle of switches just for fun. Mac, whose stocking would undoubtedly be overflowing with riches, would never let him live it down. "Because you know I stopped believing in the big guy way before I was Mac's age."
"Well, you were always more precocious than your brother. Angus has a much sweeter nature that's for sure, which I attribute to your kind-hearted mother. You are unflinchingly your father's son."
"The only reason Mac has given Santa the benefit of the doubt this long is that he hasn't quite figured out how to empirically prove that the man doesn't exist." Jack smirked, remembering his little brother's adamant theory that quantum physics might allow for the time and distance constraints.
"I'm sure it has nothing to do with my motto of those who don't believe, don't receive. That rule always seemed to keep you writing your annual letter to the North Pole each year." Beth grinned to take the sting from her observation. "I see your scarf also arrived." She gestured to the blue and gray wrap Jack had wound around his neck when he'd gone out for his last patrol of the evening and had purposively left on for their Skype session knowing it would please his grandmother to see him using the gift she'd sent. He'd forgone the gloves and hat that had come with it not wanting her to think he didn't have any heat at all in his quarters and worry herself needlessly over him and the others catching their deaths of pneumonia. The last thing Jack needed was Beth penning a letter of her own to his commanding officer. "Did Boxer and Coop like the ones I sent them?"
"They were more than grateful." Jack nodded, thinking how Box's eyes had even misted over as he tore into the present. He marveled how being far from home could make the most simple acts of kindness seem like a tremendous gift. "Coop balked at wearing Cowboy colors at first, but considering it's in the twenties here today, he swallowed his pride really quick like and donned that blue and silver like he'd been birthed and brought up on the hallowed ground of Texas."
"I'm convinced it's his New York upbringing that's led that nice boy astray. We'll convert him before long." The sparkle returned to her eye. "My daddy, God rest his soul, once brought twenty Ne'er-do-wells to Jesus just a few feet away from a well-known house of ill repute in the red-light district of Pittsburgh. If a bunch of randy, drunken Steelers can be saved, well one Giant's fan can surely be converted to the better team. You keep working on him Wyatt and I'll add him to my prayer list."
Jack laughed at his grandmother's equating of football to religious affiliations. Devoted Southern Baptist and Jesus lover that she was, Beth was still more likely to show grace to a polytheistic star-gazer than lovingly embrace a Steelers fan. "Well, Coop and his ungodly choice of teams aside, the rest of the boys sure did love your handiwork. You didn't have to go to all that trouble, Nana. It's not like the Army is going to let us freeze to death. They actually provide cold weather gear."
"Well, they're not going to let you starve either, but that doesn't stop me from worrying about what they're feeding you over there. If I could figure a way to send you a decent Christmas dinner I'd have done it by now." Nana picked up her tea once more as Renfro, the big diluted Calico sprung from the floor to land lightly on the back of the couch where he set upon kneading the cushion closest to Beth before curling into a tight furry ball near her head. "Besides no matter how high-tech the gear the government provides, I know for a fact it wasn't hand-knitted with love, care and an abundance of prayer like the ones I sent. It gave the ladies at my Sunday school class a project to tackle between Easter and Thanksgiving. We embrace the motto that idleness is the devil's handiwork you know."
"Well, I'm pretty sure old Satan's let you be seeing as how you've not had much idle time since my brother showed up. How'd the kid do on the solo flight there?" Mac had flown to Austin as soon as school had let out for the holiday break. Harry was on his annual hunting trip with some old war buddies at his cabin in Colorado. Jack had never known them to bag anything remotely like a wild turkey or a deer, but suspected they spent most of their time foraging for food, smoking cigars and reminiscing about the good old days. He would make his way into Austin before Christmas. Jack only wished he could claim the same, but he and his war buddies were on active duty, still making memories that he only prayed might someday stop waking them up in a cold sweat and be dulled enough by time that they could share them with any fondness over a beer and steaks.
"From what I understand he greatly impressed his fellow passengers with his vast knowledge of jet propulsion and charmed one of the stewardesses," His Nana's report cut through Jack's grim thoughts. Her smile had changed with talk of Jack's kid brother. It was obvious that ten year old Angus MacGyver was the apple of her eye and instead of eliciting even a twinge of jealousy in her oldest grandson, it always brought a lump to Jack's throat to know his grandmother was a benefactor in the joy that was Mac on most days. "A couple of them it appears if the fact he was loaded up with enough free peanuts and pretzels to survive in the woods for a few weeks was any indication. Your grandfather also received a glowing report about his manners which pleased me to no end as I sometimes worry about him living with Harry MacGyver, which when it comes to manners is the equivalent to turning him over to a pack of wolves." She rolled her eyes, smiling. "JP made sure to tell me that during the relating, the young women was also kind enough to comment on how she could see where Angus got his lovely eyes and handsome features. He came home from the airport all puffed up like a tick on hound and feeling his oats, as if his ego needed anymore inflation."
"Are we talking about JP or Mac?" Jack asked, feigning seriousness. Mac might not have technically been a Dalton by blood but Jack's grandfather didn't let that stop him from believing Mac was his mini me, and imparting all his Dalton wisdom to the kid. He'd bought Mac chaps and a Stetson before he could walk and was still trying to reconcile himself to the fact that although Mac enjoyed the ranch immensely and loved horses almost as much as he did the combined works of Einstein and Darwin, the kid preferred to love the massive animals from safely on the ground instead of astride their backs.
"I think you know the answer to that, considering the apple does not fall far from the tree and I have never met a Dalton man who couldn't do with being taken down a notch or two."
"So both?" Jack grinned, enjoying his grandmother's vexation at her husband's antics. The woman's lamenting eased a bit more of Jack's sadness although he couldn't help but wish he would be around for the fireworks show that Christmas dinner always provided when JP's extended family flooded through the gates of The Narrow Path ranch with all the grace of a wild stampede.
"Well, Angus is far from cocky, but he does seem to have about as good a grasp on the sway of a sweet smile as he does on the workings of gravitational pull. It's why he had chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast and has eaten more sugar cookies than a boy ever should at this time of the morning. I won't even go into how he is still puttering about out in the horse barn when I gave specific directions that he be back up here before the frost melted from the fence posts." Beth looked to the wall beyond the computer and Jack knew she was checking the time on the old cuckoo clock that hung above the stone mantle of the fireplace.
"Did you tell him I was going to try and set up our Skype for ten?" Jack knew the answer before he asked. The sympathetic look his grandmother gave him only confirmed what he'd suspected from the moment Mac hadn't been front and center of the screen when the satellite worked its magic and instead his grandmother had greeted him.
"I did but he's quite worked up about the new state of the art cooling system your grandfather is having installed in the horse barn. He's been trailing the workmen around these last couple of days like their boots are smeared with peanut butter and he's one of the Retrievers that your grandfather keeps bringing home. If we get many more Labradors we might as well be in the dog breeding business instead of fine equine stock." She rolled her eyes. "Just the other day JP was going on about getting 'Angus' another puppy to have here. Angus my foot. He wants another one for himself and…"
"So he is mad at me." Jack saw Beth's rant about his grandfather for what it was, a distraction from the fact Mac had not shown up for a rare opportunity to talk with Jack face to face-well, at least as face to face as they could get considering they were separated by continents. He wasn't exactly surprised considering how their last call had gone. Mac had politely suffered through it, dutifully answering Jack's questions about how school was going and what new cinematic genius he and Bozer were currently filming with clipped one syllable answers instead of his typical enthusiastic stories. He hadn't even laughed at any of Jack's corny jokes, or offered any in return, which was a sure sign they were most definitely not in a good place.
"Who? JP?"
Jack supposed turn-about was fair play as his grandmother attempted a puzzled countenance, but his Nana was almost as terrible as her grandson at hiding her feelings so the careful attempts to avoid the truth of the matter was overshadowed by the concern and heartache in her dark eyes.
"Mac. He's mad that I'm not coming home." Jack forced a smile when his grandmother looked forlorn that her diversionary tactic had failed so miserably. "It's not like he doesn't have every right to be."
"He's angry with the situation that's keeping his big brother from being with his family at Christmas. He's mad at the war, and at the hate-filled terrorists that make it necessary for boys to run around shooting each other and blowing one another up, and I'd wager he has a fair bit of wrath built up for his spineless scoundrel of a father that chose the most terrible time to disappear but he isn't angry with you, Wyatt. Never with you." Jack recognized the new torrent of emotions that flashed through his grandmother's gaze, much like streaks of lighting flashing over the rolling hills in a summer thunderstorm and was quite certain his little brother wasn't the only one pissed.
"He should be mad at me. I damn well deserve it." Jack's chest tightened, his stomach churning. He ran a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. In his darkest moments he felt as much a deserter as James MacGyver.
"That's not true and mad isn't the right word for what Angus is at the moment. Disappointed and a bit downtrodden is a better description."
"I'd almost rather him be mad than hurt, Nana." Jack could not stand the thought of his kid brother suffering. He ran a hand over his hair, wishing he had the power to make things right. "He's been hurt enough for ten lifetimes and I'm sick of not being able to protect him."
"We are not always meant to protect the ones we love from life, Jack Wyatt Dalton. Trust me when I say that believing you, a mere mortal, can always fend off the monsters will get you nothing but blindsided when one makes it past you-which it will-inevitably and always." Beth leaned forward, her dark eyes holding Jack's as sure as her arms would have if she'd been close enough. "Angus has had a rough start in life, but he has a family that cherishes him. He has a brother who would move mountains for him. Love like that can get a person through just about anything and despite this little patch of rough times, your boy is thriving. Don't' discount his incredible spirit."
Jack knew his grandmother spoke from experience. She'd had her own rough start, not to mention heartache as an adult. Her mother had died when she was a child, and she'd buried not only her father as a young newly married woman but lost her only son not so many years later. But Jack also understood she loved him fiercely and would do or say anything to make him feel better. It was what grandparents were good at, but Jack wasn't willing to let himself off the hook so easily.
"I shouldn't have gotten his hopes up about me coming home. I should have told him flat out weeks ago that it wasn't happening."
"Hope can be a cruel heartbreaker, but we are still the better for it. Life would be bleak without faith in the miraculous and I hate to break it to you, but Angus naturally bends towards the light, like a sunflower. He would have opened himself to the best possibility no matter what you'd have cautioned." Beth's eyebrow arched in the way it did when she was about to make a very important point. "Besides, Christmas is still over a week away and the last time I checked it didn't take these modern planes 10 days to make their way eight thousand miles."
"Nana…" Jack started, with a sigh. Mac wasn't the only eternal optimist in the family. He was set on reminding his grandmother that he'd had no luck on his request for leave, nor did he expect to. There was no miracle coming down the pipeline for him and Santa wouldn't be delivering him with a big red bow anytime soon but she was having none of it.
"Don't say it," Beth cut him off resolutely. "Unless you have developed the gift of divine prophecy without revealing such a blessing to me, then you have no way of knowing what possibility God could present. He is known to open doors when we least expect it."
"When Jesus shows up here in an Apache to exchange the satellite images and topographic maps of my current mission with a one-way ticket to Austin then I'll be apt to have a little more faith in one your miracles, Nana." Jack's tone was clipped and harsher than he meant and he could already see his Nana's wheels turning, the sermon bubbling, one that would no doubt warn against tempting the Lord and sassing his elders but any tongue-lashing-deserved or not-was put on hold by the sound of the kitchen door slamming and hurried feet on the hardwood floors.
Jack had his own bout of hope bubbling, anticipating seeing his grandfather and Mac appear, both red-cheeked and breathless from the cold snap they were having in Austin. Jack's grandmother had boasted it was a sunny 37 degrees that morning, which was frosty for Texas but still warmer than where Jack was currently, and couldn't contain her excitement for the chance of a rare snowfall on Christmas Eve. Unfortunately, no familiar face appeared alongside his grandmother, but instead a jean-clad leg made its way into Jack's view and a heavily accented voice Jack imagined belonging to one of the ranch hands but didn't recognize specifically reverberated through the speakers.
"Ms. Beth, there's been an accident at the barn. You need to come quickly."
The panicked tone had Beth standing immediately, dislodging the cat that pounced grumpily from the couch. Jack could only see the bottom of his grandmother's skirt now, the braided belt she always wore.
"Miguel? What's happened?"
"Nana?" Jack called, not liking the hint of fear he could hear in his grandmother's voice. It was like watching a movie scene that had been filmed when a camera had fallen, catching an angle that was of no interest or help to the viewer, but had somehow made it past the editing floor. Even if he couldn't see faces, now that he had a name Jack could picture Miguel, the burly wrangler with a silver goatee and trademark intricate bolo ties who'd been at the ranch for at least a decade.
"Your grandson took a tumble from the rafters. He's hurt."
"What about Mac?" Jack latched onto the computer without thought, his hands gripping both sides of the screen as his heart kicked into overdrive. If he could have climbed through the computer he would have, grabbing Miguel and shaking him until a more specific explanation tumbled out. As it was, Jack was left as helpless as any audience member in a theater, forced to listen without any real effect on the unhelpful cinematography. He couldn't even gauge how serious the fall might have been by the man's expression. Jack was left to pray he'd misheard, that his brother was fine and not anywhere near broken or bleeding or any of the other awful images assaulting Jack's fertile imagination. "Nana, talk to me, damn it!"
"Wyatt." Beth's face appeared in the screen as she quickly bent in front of the camera once more to catch his eye. Her fine features were pinched, the peaches and cream skin his grandfather loved to compliment her on, as white as the snow she was hoping for on Christmas. Jack could see the fear light in her eyes but the calm certainty that was telling of her stalwart grittiness was also present. "I've got to go, but I promise you I'll call you back as soon as I can. We'll take care of Angus."
"Nana, wait!" Beth didn't stop and Jack was left with the image of Dodger the piglet, who had sat up from his nap with a grunt and was looking almost as bumfuzzled and panicked at being abandoned and left out of the action as Jack. "Nana!"
"Wyatt, what's going on?" Boxer and a few more men from their unit entered the barracks just as Jack slammed his fist on the table, bouncing the computer and other things as the shabby piece of furniture balked under his assault.
"It's Mac." Jack stood, roughly twisting the scarf from around his neck, wishing he could unwind time so easily. He balled the wool up, throwing it on his bunk and regretting it lacked the mass of a baseball when there was no satisfying thud.
"Baby brother still pissed at you?" Box looked uncertain, his face twisted in confusion as he exchanged unsure glances with Coop. "I told you he'd get over it. By New Year…"
"He's hurt, Boxer." Jack snapped, pacing like a cage tiger as his mind quickly calculated every possible scenario that might score him a way to Austin. "Mac is hurt, damn it."
"Hold up." Boxer gripped his arm, Cooper closing ranks. "What do you mean Mac is hurt? What happened?"
"I don't know." Jack took a seat on the bed when the others cornered him to keep him in place. "I was on the computer with Nana when Miguel, one of my grandfather's ranch hands, came into to tell her Mac was hurt, that he'd fallen from the rafters in one of the horse barns."
"Shit, Tombstone, that sucks." Coop took a seat on the cot next to him. "But you know kid's practically bounce, man. If one of us took a ten foot header that's one thing, but anyone under 12 can pretty much defy gravity."
"He's right, Wy," Box agreed, crossing his arms over his chest. "There's even science to back that shit up. Something about their distribution of mass or something. Hell, Mac could probably rattle off the specifics for you, I'm sure."
"If he's able." Jack ran a hand through his hair. He wanted to let the reassurances of his teammates sink in, but all he could think about was the fact he nor Mac seemed to catch a break these days. As a rule of thumb he and his brother were by far more likely to have bad luck than good.
"Dude, we've fallen out of plenty of barns." Box gripped his shoulder and gave him a hard shake. "Remember that summer you broke your leg and not more than a week or so later I cracked my elbow."
"I don't think your trip down memory lane is helping, Box," Cooper said, when Jack's face paled at the memories. He could easily recall writhing in pain on the unforgiving barn floor, his leg twisted in an unnatural angle as his horse Damascus dropped his head over his stall to stare at the boy who'd just seemingly fallen from the sky to land not so softly on a fresh pile of hay.
"Mac's his kid brother, right?" Jack heard Clay Craddock, the most recent addition to their team inquire of Big Sal. The guy was a former Ranger, having come in while Jack was on leave during the summer. The two of them had hit it off right away, having similar backgrounds. Craddock was a southern boy, born and bred in Kentucky. As fate would have it, his father had also been killed in the line of duty, an injustice Jack could relate with easily. The two had bonded over an affinity for horses, Johnny Cash, and football.
"Yeah, but Tombstone has custody. He's the only parent the kid has." Sal answered quietly.
"Which is why I need to be home." Jack stood once more, determined more than ever that he was going to find a way to Mac if he had to steal a bird to get him there.
"Now hold up there, cowboy." Boxer once more blocked his way, the voice of reason to Jack's impulsive nature. "That's all Mac needs is for you to go and get yourself shot by an MP or court-martialed all for a bump and a bruise he'll have forgotten about by Christmas Day. Who'll take care of him then?"
"Boxer's right, Jack," Coop joined in. "How about you wait and find out how serious the kid is before you mount an outright AWOL."
"My gut's telling me this ain't some harmless tumble, Boxer." Jack raked both hands through his hair, knowing that his little brother was quite possibly seriously hurt and he was thousands of miles away from offering any kind of help.
Boxer's hand found its way to Jack's shoulder again, giving a hard squeeze this time. "If that's true then me and the boys will distract the MP's while you steal that bird you were considering taking. Hell, I'll even co-pilot."
Despite everything, Jack smirked. "You might be good with tanks and anything with wheels, Box, but we both know you'd suck as a co-pilot as your internal compass is cracked and your ADD kicks in as soon as we're off the ground and in the air. You're easily distracted by a gnat."
"That's why I stick to my strengths, one of which is procuring anything our little band of merry men might need." Boxer met Jack's gaze. "Cooper and I are going to go round us up a satphone. Calling JP or the hospital if necessary will be easier on that. Big Sal is going to go let Hammond know what's going on so he's in the loop and understands if his whole unit ends up in custody."
"I am?" Sal spoke up, eyebrows arched dramatically. "Why me?"
"Because he likes you."
Sal swore in Spanish, shaking his head. "Hammond doesn't like anyone."
"Well, he doesn't find you as annoying as he does the rest of us," Boxer reframed.
"That's because he doesn't understand half the shit Sal goes on with," Coop pointed out. "If the Cap was bi-lingual Sal would be on his shit list, maybe even in the stockade."
"Just do it," Box narrowed his gaze at Sal and Jack had to admire his old friend's ability to take command when needed, but Jack wasn't one to stay on the sidelines, especially in the middle of a crisis and a situation that involved his family.
"I'm not going to sit here and twiddle my thumbs, Box. Mac needs me." He hated the hint of palpable desperation in his tone.
"That's why, you're going to sit your ass down and see if you can find out what flights might be going out of Kabul. If we can get you that far, maybe there's an AMC charter you could pick up to Berlin." Boxer gestured to Jack's laptop. "You might want to check Kandahar, too while you're at it."
"Yeah." Jack ran a hand over his face, knowing Boxer was giving him some logical options for a plan of attack but he hated that any scenario he could imagine would take a couple of days to reach his brother. The helplessness he felt as reality sat in was nearly overwhelming.
Boxer took his admission as an all clear, as did Coop and Sal it seemed who followed him out of the tent, leaving only Jack and Clay, who had watched the scene with a sense of detached aloofness that Jack understood came from being the new guy.
"Don't think I expect you to be a part of any crazy getaway I might have to pull, Craddock." Jack gestured to where the other teammates had just disappeared. "I won't let them put themselves at risk either if I have to do something extreme."
"Hey man, I'm in for whatever goes down." Clay shrugged. "We're a team, right? If one of us is in trouble, the rest of us are in the same boat."
"I appreciate that, but this isn't exactly a mission."
"It's family, which is even more important."
"My family, my problem." Jack moved to the computer before the other man could disagree. He was grateful for the support, but the last thing he wanted was to put anyone else at risk. Leading men into battle was one thing, but charging into a situation that could mean a dishonorable discharge at best, jail time at worst was not something he could stomach.
Craddock followed him to the table. "You didn't tell me you had custody of your brother."
"It's still a little new to me." Jack opened the lap top once more, hoping connection held as he accessed the website he'd need. "It happened this summer while I was on leave."
"Not to be a nosy bastard but how'd that happen? I mean, I know your dad is gone, but what about your mom?" Clay leaned his hip precariously against the table shooting Jack a questioning glance.
"She died a few years back." Jack cleared his throat of the lump that still sprang to his throat at any mention of his mother. "Mac has a different dad, and he decided to pull his own AWOL in May leaving his ten year old kid behind."
"That sucks." Clay said with sincere feeling.
"Especially for Mac." Jack typed in the passwords required, linking up to the network. "He's left with some really awesome grandparents and a brother who might make it home on a permanent basis before he gets through middle school."
"I guess you joined up before you knew you were going to be stepping in as a parent."
"I joined up because I wanted to serve my country," Jack glanced at Craddock. It wasn't a cliché. Jack loved what he did. He wanted to serve and he was good at it, but there was also a deeper reason that had brought him to the Army in the first place. "And because I was on a bad road and needed a fresh start if I was ever going to be in a place to take care of my brother in case his old man flaked, which he did, albeit in a way I wasn't exactly expecting or with the best timing."
"There's other ways to serve your country, man," Craddock pulled another chair over, and spun it around, straddling it to sit. "You forget I've seen you out in the field. You love the action and damn if you're not hella good at it. It's as natural as breathing. You're one of the best snipers I've seen, pulling off shots that would baffle most. A man like you isn't going to be satisfied riding some desk or wearing a tie and working 9 to 5."
"For Mac, I could don some coveralls and keep grease under my nails." Jack knew he had a steady job at the bodyshop back in Mission City waiting for him. He could always pick up extra cash doing some work for Mama Colton both at the bar and with her bounty hunting business. "I'm a pretty good mechanic."
Craddock was quiet for a moment. "But your true calling is behind the scope of a rifle, or the stick of a bird."
"Sometimes we make sacrifices for the people we love." Jack growled deep in throat when the earliest flights to anywhere in Europe were the day after tomorrow. If Mac was seriously hurt that wasn't going to work. "Mac is my priority at this point."
"What if I told you there might be a way you could maintain that priority and still use your talents to serve the great U S of A." Craddock tapped the desk to claim Jack's attention. "It could also help with the ride back to the states."
"You going to tell me you got an Apache in your pocket and an F-4 Phantom or a Valkyrie waiting on standby to whisk me away."
"What I have is a job offer that could get you something better than a chopper and a plane capable of pulling six mach. It could get you out of the fucking desert for good."
"I don't understand." Jack furrowed his brow, studying his teammate with a fair mix of confusion and irritation. "What job offer?" He didn't have time to play games but from what he knew of Craddock it wasn't like the man to yank a brother's chain.
"We have a mutual friend, Jack, more of an acquaintance for you I suppose. She's actually the reason I found my way to Delta." Clay arched a brow. "The reason I've been watching you."
"Watching me?" Jack frowned, his Spidey sense tingling. "What the hell does that mean?"
"The people I work for aren't really in the habit of extending offers without a thorough knowledge of the potential employee." Craddock folded his arms over his chest, looking completely relaxed and confident in the light of just hinting to his being less than upfront about his assignment to Delta. "They like to have a personal and up close observation of what skills and assets one might offer."
"Who the hell is this mysterious lady who turned you onto me?" Jack wasn't sure what to make of Craddock's revelation. The idea that the other operator had been sent to watch Jack was as unnerving as all get out. If it hadn't been for the situation with Mac, Jack would quite possibly have had the guy against the wall with his hands around his throat, but then again, Craddock might have just taken advantage of the most opportune moment he could have hoped for to come clean.
"Matilda Weber," Craddock answered with a grin. "I believe your lovely girlfriend Sarah introduced the two of you this summer."
"The lawyer that helped push my paperwork on Mac through?"Jack's frown deepened. "And Sarah's not exactly my girlfriend, at least not anymore."
"That's okay because Matty's not exactly a lawyer."
"But Sarah is interning at her firm." Jack started, thrown by the unexpected turn in conversation.
"Sarah wasn't at law school these last couple of years, Jack. Well, at least not all of them. She has been interning for a much different career, although her analytical mind got her noticed, just like your skills made you stand out. Locking that girl away in a courtroom would be as bad as letting your talents go to waste under the hood of a car."
"I don't understand," Jack started only to have any explanation he might have gotten interrupted by Boxer and Coop's return.
"Jack, we got it." Boxer didn't seem to notice the look of baffled confusion on Jack's face or either he took it as a sign of distress because he quickly handed the satellite phone to his teammate. "Maybe try JP first. You know he always has his phone on him."
"Yeah, right." Jack took the phone, ignoring the way Craddock was grinning like a kid who'd just caught a glimpse of Santa under his tree. At the moment there were more pressing matters than what the hell kind of rabbit hole Jack had just fallen into, like the pressing feeling of fear that had once more presented front and center now that he'd been presented with the means to find out what had happened to Mac. He could deal with feeling like Alice in Wonderland after he knew what was happening with his brother.
"Did he have any luck with the flights?" Jack heard Boxer ask Clay as Jack focused on dialing his grandfather's number.
"I think he uncovered some options he wasn't expecting," Craddock answered cryptically. "In fact, he might have discovered his perfect ticket home."
Jack had a feeling that the last part of Clay's reply was meant solely for him.
"And a cliffhanger in a pear tree…."
To be continued…so sorry guys. I had hoped to have the entire thing finished, but have not had as much time as I had hoped. Will have the last chapter up soon as well as the next installment of 'Those We Gather Close'.
A/N/N: Just a little poem for all those who are sacrificing…
Creeping through the silent night,
Things that move are things of fright,
Sleigh bells never ringing now
Angels seldom singing now
Nothing comes to make their season bright.
Helicopters-guns and tanks
Moving now in guarded ranks,
Not a bit of Christmas cheer
That must wait 'til they're home next year,
Since their only present is your "Thanks."
Now with many flags unfurled
Boys and girls from 'round the world
Lift their voices-battle cry
Bound to win or bound to die
Brave young heroes all-to chaos hurled.
Here at home with Christmas cheer
In this fun time of the year,
Let's pause a bit from what we've planned,
Singing songs-with praises-and
Send a loving hug to soldiers dear.
Ring the bells and praise the Lord
For our soldiers' love outpoured,
Post their names upon your tree
AS they fight to keep us free.
Remember their gift forevermore.-
Ted L. Glines2