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"Scott?"
Alan's quiet voice made him glance over, hoping his brother wasn't about to protest being left behind.
Alan offered a small smile. "Bring him home?"
Scott nodded. "F.A.B."
He looked at John, who had one shoe on, an earpiece in one hand and was typing with the other. It would have been comical in any other situation.
"We need to go," Scott said, drawing his brother's attention.
John tossed him the headset. "Monitor that," he ordered. Scott held it up, realising John was already in the military systems and was listening to the radio chatter as Shawn assembled a strike force.
John pulled his shoes on, tapping a final command before closing his laptop and tucking it under his arm. Scott tossed the earpiece back, moving towards the door. As he did so, Gordon made a muffled noise, rolling over as he stirred. They'd been careful to keep quiet but John froze, looking at Scott with a helpless expression.
They didn't have time to argue about why Gordon couldn't come with them.
"Go," Alan said, his voice stronger than Scott had expected. "I'll handle him."
Scott nodded, then jerked his head at the door. John followed him out and they hurried through the hotel, taking the stairs and spilling out into the deserted lobby. It was dark outside and Scott tried not to dwell on how much time he'd wasted talking to the cops and their agents. He only hoped his delay hadn't cost his brother.
There was a light on at reception, but no one was on the desk. The brothers hurried through without being stopped, to Scott's relief. He unlocked the car and John didn't break his stride as he slid in, already opening his laptop again and putting the earpiece in properly.
Scott got in, starting the engine.
"Belt," he said, old habits surfacing subconsciously. John did as he was told before turning his attention to his screen.
They pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway. The traffic was lighter than it had been and Scott increased his speed whenever he could, heading back the way he'd come a few hours earlier. John stayed quiet, a sign they were going in the right direction.
Eventually, the road narrowed.
"Left," John muttered, the first thing he'd said since leaving the hotel. Scott turned off and as they started down winding roads leading further away from civilisation, he had to rely on John's directions: the GPS showing nothing but a blank screen.
John shivered as they entered the forest. The raid that morning might have been in the wrong place, but there was still something foreboding about the way the road snaked through the towering trees.
"Wait," John said. He was hunched forward, listening. Scott slowed the car to a crawl, then stopped while he waited for John to speak. He knew better than rushing his brother.
"We're almost there," John muttered, "I just-," he shrugged.
Scott understood: the track wasn't exactly signposted and it was hard to pick out where they were. Scott pulled John's screen towards him, trying to make sense of the map.
The heat spots showed a large group gathered nearby but the army chatter was enough to reassure them they were allies. The building John had picked out before was a dark smudge. They were close… but Scott had no idea how to get closer.
He started the engine again. As soon as there was a gap in the trees, he'd head in the right direction – regardless of where the track led. But although he took the first opening, it didn't take long before the path ahead was barred by more vegetation, and there wasn't space to turn around.
"Damn," Scott cursed, stalling as he tried to reverse and had to avoid a tree he was certain hadn't been there a moment ago. He restarted the car, but the wheels spun uselessly, kicking up leaves and doing little else.
"For f-,"
"Look," John lent forward. He pointed through the trees. "Lights."
"Right." Scott unclipped his belt.
"Where are you going?"
"Where'd you think?"
"You're going by foot?"
Scott gave his brother a sideways glance. "Knew you were the clever one for a reason."
"But-," Despite his protests, John scrabbled to undo his own seatbelt, tossing his laptop on the seat as they both got out of the car.
"You can't just walk in there. They'll take you for the enemy."
"It's no better than driving in, and you know it." Scott started walking. "You coming or what?"
He didn't need to look to know John would follow. He wondered what it cost his brother to leave his laptop behind, though he still had his earpiece.
"Coming through my watch," he said in response to Scott's quizzical look.
Scott grinned, picking up the pace. It felt the entire forest was fighting back as they forced their way through branches and roots.
"They're getting ready to move in," John said. Scott moved faster. He trusted Shawn but he needed to be with that team. He had to be there, had to find Virgil…
"Halt!" The voice was loud and both brothers jumped. "Stay where you are!"
"We're in the right place at least," John muttered, putting the headset in his pocket and pressing something on his watch. As flashlights lit up the area, Scott realised those left to guard the perimeter had found them. The task force was still preparing to move in.
John realised it at the same time.
"Go!" he hissed, before moving towards the soldiers. A flash of guilt shot through Scott but he pushed it aside. John would be fine: Virgil needed him.
He changed direction, using the trees to conceal him as he darted away from his brother. He was still in earshot when the guards apprehended John, wincing when he heard him give a soft grunt, but he kept moving.
"Scott!"
It was Shawn's voice. Scott froze. He couldn't move quietly in the forest… and he'd been planning to find Shawn anyway.
"I know you're out here," Shawn called. "Come out - slowly!"
He checked he'd hidden his gun but backtracked. He hadn't gone far and he glared at the sight in front of him. John was on his knees, hands on his head. Two soldiers flanked him and Scott saw one of them holding the earpiece. John pulled a wry face when Scott caught his eye.
"Let him up," Scott said. He looked around and saw Shawn next to his men. His hand was resting on his gun, his expression irritated.
"No can do." Shawn moved forward, letting go of his weapon but pulling out a set of handcuffs. Scott raised his hands, taking a step back.
"You don't need to do this."
"How the hell did you find this place?" Shawn asked. Scott swallowed. He couldn't rely on John to talk their way out of this one.
"Evening drive?"
"Scott."
"A tip-off, alright? Did you really think I wasn't going to follow every lead I got?"
"Who tipped you off?"
"How did you find out?" Scott demanded in return. He was half-curious whether Shawn would admit to being contacted by International Rescue. "Have you sent your men in yet?"
Shawn shook his head. "You shouldn't be here, Scott."
Scott shrugged. "This is exactly where I should be."
Shawn gave the guards a signal and they let John stand up. Scott moved so he was next to his brother.
"Shawn-,"
"You two, with me," Shawn ordered.
He stared walking. Scott glanced at John, who shrugged, and they both followed. Scott tried to ignore the soldiers flanking them.
"You okay?" he asked and his brother nodded. He could feel the tension coming from John and understood. This was the right place; he could sense it. But while Shawn escorted them through the trees to where he had set up command, no one was storming the building; no one was finding Virgil.
Shawn led them to a cluster of vehicles parked a small distance away. Scott looked around: Shawn had grouped the soldiers in small units, spread out through the trees, taking their positions, waiting for the signal to move.
They stopped next to a jeep. Shawn tossed something in the front, shut the door and turned to face them.
"Let me help," Scott said. The guard put a hand on his shoulder. Scott ignored it, his attention on Shawn. "You know I can."
"All I know," Shawn said pointedly, "is that you and your brother are civilians. And you still haven't given me an answer about how you found this place."
"But-,"
"The only reason I'm not hauling you back to the city now is we can't risk the engines being heard. We move in five."
"Let me-,"
"No."
"You did this morning," Scott argued. "What's changed?"
"This morning nearly cost me my captaincy!" Shawn hissed. "Command found out I let two civilians on a raid that went wrong. They've been on my ass all day. There's no way I'm letting you in there."
"Shawn-," Again, Scott tried to step forward and, again, the guard held him back.
"Sorry about this," Shawn said, sounding far from apologetic. John's guard suddenly took his arm, marching him around the car before they could react.
"What are you-," Scott moved, and his own guard tightened his grip.
The snick of metal made Scott jump as a cuff locked around his wrist before latching onto the door handle.
"Hey!"
John's protest meant Scott was certain the same thing had happened to his brother.
"Don't..." Scott began but Shawn shook his head, scowling. He pulled out a key, pressed a button and with a loud beep, the jeep locked. Scott tugged, but the handle didn't budge and he couldn't pull free.
"You stepped away from the military, Scott," he said, "so let us do our job. We'll get your brother out, then I'll let you go. If you're lucky, my commanding officer won't ask too many questions about how you found this place. It's the best I can do."
"Shawn-," Scott didn't know what he was going to say. He'd react the same if someone was getting in their way out on a mission. That didn't make it any easier being on the receiving end of it though.
Shawn stepped away, then turned back.
"One more thing," he said, nodding at the man behind him. The soldier put a strong arm across Scott's back, holding him against the car. Before Scott could protest, Shawn pulled the gun out of his waistband and the guard let go again.
"You forget that I know you," Shawn said.
He moved away without giving Scott time to say anything. He watched, helpless, as Shawn lifted a radio and the men moved away, ready for action. His friend's words had hurt more than they had any right to. Despite what his old colleagues believed, it wasn't as if he'd left the Air Force to sit around…
"Let it go," John suddenly said from the other side of the car. He didn't need to ask to know what Scott was thinking. "He can't know, and wouldn't believe you if you said it now anyway."
"I'm not staying here," Scott said, tugging at the handcuff again. All it did was rattle and bite into his wrist.
"Did I say that?" John snapped. Taken aback, Scott glanced at him.
"What are you planning?"
"Something," John said. Scott wished he could see what his brother was doing, but somehow wasn't surprised when John appeared around his side of the car. The handcuff dangled from one wrist.
"What did you do?"
John glanced around, smirking. He stepped closer, taking Scott's free wrist. It wasn't his wrist he wanted, but his watch. Scott couldn't see what he was doing but with a soft click, the door unlocked.
"Short range EMP burst," John said, "there's enough power in each watch for one pulse."
Scott raised his eyebrows, impressed. He slid the cuff off the door but John had crouched down by the time he looked back. Dropping to his haunches, he saw his brother had his ear piece back – and was currently pulling a thread of wire from it. At his gesture, Scott held out his hand and John wriggled the wire into the lock. A few seconds later and the cuffs fell open. He pulled them off, dropping them to the floor as John tried to find the right angle to do his own. He reached out but John shook his head.
"Go find Virg," he said.
He squeezed John's shoulder and disappeared the way Shawn had gone.
He didn't have to go far. Brushing past a tree, Scott stopped as the building appeared in front of him. He didn't know what he was expecting: something hellish after Gordon's reaction. But it looked like some kind of medical or military facility, abandoned long ago. It couldn't have been anything good, given it was so secretive even the army hadn't known it was here. A coldness radiated from it, as if warning them to leave. It was foreboding and Scott shivered before reminding himself Virgil was in there.
Even as he stared at it, he noticed a pinprick of light darting across the wall. He blinked and when he looked again, there were several red dots. The soldiers were fanning out, their weapons trained on the building in front of them. Scott stepped forward, then remembered Shawn had taken his gun. As much as he wanted to get to Virgil, he couldn't charge in there without a weapon.
Looking around, he caught sight of his friend. Shawn's attention was focused on his men and as Scott approached, his arm rose in a signal. Scott ran – he had to get there before they went in without him.
"For God's sake," Shawn grumbled as Scott stopped next to him. A soldier raised his gun but Shawn shook his head. "What part of no didn't you get?"
"I need to go in," Scott said. Something in his tone betrayed him: even after all these years, he was used to his orders being followed. Shawn stiffened, although Scott was certain it wasn't a conscious action.
"Scott-,"
"Please," Scott pressed. "My brother's in there. You know how many innocents get caught in the crossfire, especially in the dark."
He could see Shawn wavering.
"Fine!" he said and Scott grinned.
"You won't regret this."
"Find your brother," Shawn said, "but do not get in our way. No one's got your back, you hear?"
Scott nodded. He was doing this on his own – Shawn wouldn't risk his own men deviating from their mission to watch out for him. If any of them got hurt because of Scott being there, there'd be hell to pay.
But as soon as he stepped away from Shawn, a figure sprinted out of the darkness, coming to a stop next to him.
"What's the plan?" John asked, panting. Scott ignored Shawn's mutter and clapped his brother on the shoulder.
"Talk me in," he said, a familiar expression that made John straighten and nod. Shawn was the only one close enough to hear their words and he already had enough questions.
There was nothing John could do – he didn't have his equipment to hand. But he stepped away, his quick gaze taking in the positions of the men, the potential entry points to the building and their surroundings. Shawn was wrong: someone always had his back and this was no exception.
"Small door at your three," John murmured, "the cross-fire should cover you." There were men covering it, but not as many as the main entrance. He had more chance getting closer.
Scott nodded, grateful that John wasn't insisting he came. The crack of gun fire filled the air as the soldiers began their assault and Scott stepped forward, knowing he couldn't wait any longer.
As the men burst through the main entrance, something caught Scott's eye. The orange hue was undeniable – a sight he had seen more times than he could count. The building was on fire, and smoke started billowing out of the open door. Knowing the air flow had the potential to turn the entire thing into an inferno, Scott snatched at John's sleeve, pulling him to one side. Shawn's men would have to deal with the flames. This time, Scott wasn't here to put out a fire: he'd burn the place down if that's what it took.
The door that John indicated appeared to be far enough away from the main entrance that Scott only hoped the flames hadn't spread.
Both brothers moved. Scott looked around, judging where the men were and who could offer him the best cover but before he decided, John spoke again.
"Scott."
His voice was quiet, barely more than a breath. Scott glanced at him, then followed John's gaze from where it was fixed, unblinking, on the building. Scott looked over, not noticing what had caught his attention. Then he looked again, suddenly realising the side-door he was planning to go through was open.
Someone was stumbling out.
And Scott was running.