10 Talismans
The moment the rebels left the pilot alone, Corbett clocked his weapon and rushed forward. Walter followed and crouched down in front of the man, mentally tallying up his injuries in order to plan the best way out of here.
"Who are you?"
"Lieutenant Jim Corbett, U.S. Navy SEALs" He replied, sawing through the ropes, "I'm bringing you home".
Barrios slowly nodded, obviously concussed, and turned to face Walter, a silent question in his eyes.
"I'm the tech guy" He eventually replied, "I'm helping".
It took a lot longer than Walter liked for Corbett to cut through the ropes tying the man to the chair, and he desperately hoped that the rebels wouldn't return anytime soon.
"I got him" the Lieutenant said, "Grab the tech, let's go".
"Okay!"
Stumbling to feet under the weight of the backpack, Walter turned and-
"Oh".
Two rebels stepped in, assault rifles locked and loaded in their hands. He slowly raised his arms in surrender and swallowed thickly. It was completely illogical to get scared, of course, not only because the fear would act as an inhibitor for his other senses, therefore making it more likely that he'd miss something crucial that could get him out of this disaster, but also, you know, he'd been in worse situations than this and survived, so who's to say he wouldn't live through this one too?
He hoped.
Five minutes later, and he was kneeling on the floor with his hands behind his head while Corbett got punched in the stomach in front of him.
"You think you can come here, take what you want?" the rebel leader growled, "From me? From my country?!"
Corbett fell to the ground and the man raised his fist to hit him again. Based on the angle, the man's anger, and his very obvious strength, the next punch could quite possibly kill-
"Stop!"
They all turned to him.
"Beat him all you like, it's useless" Walter quickly continued, "He can't help you. I can".
They dropped Corbett and he fell silently to the floor.
"You? I don't even know what you are".
Which- fair.
"Alright. I'll tell you what I'm not, I'm not a soldier" He slowly got to his feet, "I'm a tech specialist sent in to get that software, and I will get it for you, but you have to let us go".
"You- You really think they're gonna let us go?" Corbett snorted.
"You tried your way" He shot back, "Do we have a deal?"
The head rebel smirked, "You decode it, you leave".
Walter nodded and quickly stepped towards the laptop. He wasn't going to actually decode the message of course, he was far from being stupid. He just had to buy them some time, time where neither Corbett nor Barrios were being beaten, time where Cabe would hopefully get the truck running so that they could all escape. He just needed time.
Tapping a few keys, he waited until the 'download' window appeared on the screen.
"Okay" He said, stepping aside, "We're done. Now can we go?"
"No, you not leave till software's fully downloaded".
He'd expected that. Still didn't mean that he liked it, though. Carefully stepping back against the wall, he subtly put both hands on the pipe he'd seen earlier. It was an old base with old pumping, and old pumping meant old pipes, and old pipes meant-
It twisted in his hands.
Perfect.
Trying to keep his movements to a minimum, Walter started unscrewing the pipe. He gave Corbett a rather pointed look, be ready, and the man nodded slightly in return. The download bar continued to increase, faster than he'd anticipated, but if he moved any faster then the rebels would know he was up to something.
Come on, he begged, just a few seconds more-
The laptop screen went blank.
"You erased it?!"
Fuck.
The leader charged at him, delivering a powerful blow to the stomach that had him doubling over with a gasp. The pipe slipped from his grip and he mentally swore, just as another hit landed.
"You erased it?!" the rebel repeated, "You erased the software?! Why?!"
Walter groaned and blindly reached for the wall behind him.
"Kind of feel like that's self explanatory".
The leader punched him across the face and he went sprawling to the floor. His stomach was aching, his head was reeling, and there was something oddly tight in his chest whenever he tried to breathe.
"Get up".
The rebel kicked him in the stomach again.
"Get up!"
With a snarl, he delivered one final kick that had stars flash before Walter's eyes, before grabbing him by the collar and hauling him to his feet. The rebel slammed him back against the wall, the metal pipe viciously biting into his shoulders, before wrapping both hands around his throat.
Behind him, Walter saw Corbett jerk forward, but he was quickly stopped when the other two rebels pointed their guns at him.
He clawed desperately at the man's arms as he tightened his hold around his neck and squeezed. He was already struggling to breathe from being punched and kicked and now he was being strangled and once, just once, he wanted to have a normal calm non-violent mission. Was that really too much to ask?!
His vision started darkening at the edges and the only thing he could hear were his own desperate gasps for air that just wasn't coming. The rebel tightened his grip even more, strong fingers constricting around his throat, slowly but surely crushing him- carotid artery, jugular vein, laryngopharynx, larynx, trachea, carotid sinus reflex -to death. Cerebral ischemia would be first, the restriction of oxygen-rich blood to the brain eventually resulting in damage to brain tissue, followed by asphyxia as he suffocates, and then bradycardia, a slow heart rate, or hypotension, a low blood pressure, or both.
Estimated time to unconsciousness: Seven seconds.
Walter dug his nails into his assailant's hands, but that just made the man squeeze even tighter. So instead, he went limp, forcing the rebel to take the brunt of his weight which, granted, wasn't much, but it was still more than he was expecting. As the leader stumbled forward a step, Walter reached back blindly, frantically searching for that same metal pipe so that he could twist and-
There.
Using the last reserves of energy, he yanked on the pipe one final time, swung it around and threw.
Corbett jumped to his feet, grabbing it from mid-air and spun around to hit the first rebel over the head. The second rebel raised his gun, but the lieutenant managed to hit him too, before kicking the gun out of the third attacker's hands, knocking him unconscious, before spinning back to get the leader and-
Walter gasped as he was suddenly let go, and he fell to the floor, hard, hands coming up to claw at his throat.
"Drop it" the man ordered, pointing a gun at Corbett, "My bosses be upset I not bring them software. So, instead, I bring them your head".
The soldier obediently let the metal pipe fall to the floor, just as Walter's vision slowly started to clear once more. The first thing he saw, were the jumper cables they'd used to torture Barrios. The jumper cables that were very much still live. And there was a canister of gasoline next to him. As the rebel leader took aim, Walter jerked forward and knocked over the container.
A split second of confusion, a burst of sparks, and then the man's leg caught on fire.
Corbett immediately threw himself forwards, knocking the man to the ground as he punched him over and over and over and-
"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey" Walter grabbed him, "We gotta go".
Every word felt like he was downing shards of glass.
"Oscar Mike".
They rushed forwards to grab Barrios so they could escape.
"Oh, so you're speaking the lingo now?" Corbett taunted, but Walter couldn't reply. Whatever few words his throat had allowed him to speak had been used up, and now the ringing in his ears was worse and the dots in front of his eyes were back again.
They stumbled outside, the unconscious captain between them, and he looked around frantically for Cabe. If his calculations were right, and they always were, then the rebel base was gonna blow in four-point-nine minutes. If his other calculations were correct, then unless he sat down immediately, there was about an eight-seven percent chance that he was gonna pass out.
"Welcome to the Charmin Express!"
Cabe.
They hobbled around the side of the van and climbed in. Paige immediately took Barrios from them, and the man half sat, half collapsed in the middle seat of their ride. Walter was shoved in next, which was good because it kept him away from Gallo and his Walter-bullshit detector, but bad because Paige was slowly developing one herself.
"I was nervous you wouldn't show" Paige said, and Cabe smirked, "Wasn't without its drama".
"Your wife wanted you to have this".
Barrios gratefully took the photo of his family from her.
"Thank you… Thanks to all of you".
Except 'all' of them weren't quite here. Walter peered out the window to the dark road on either side of them, trying to catch a glimpse of Happy or Toby. He thought they would have seen them by now, and the fact that they hadn't…
Turning back, Cabe met his gaze in the rearview mirror as if sensing his concern.
"When we get to the plane, we'll call the embassy and form a search party".
He swallowed, immediately winced, and nodded. The agent frowned, briefly, clearly sensing that something was amiss, but before he could question him-
"Don't know if that's necessary" Paige said, suddenly leaning forward in her seat. Ahead of them, the van's headlights flashed against two figures in combat uniform. Cabe slowed down as they passed, and Corbett quickly slid open the door.
Happy was clinging to Toby's back.
They stared.
The pair stared back.
Happy glared.
"None of you saw this".
"Not bad for two days' work" Cabe said, watching as Barrios ran towards his family.
"Not at all" Paige replied, "But I really want to see my son now".
"Copy that. Glad to give you a lift" He replied, and she nodded.
Following him towards the nearest jeep, Paige smirked and turned back to Walter.
"You know the sad thing? That was my first time outside the U.S."
He smiled briefly and nodded, and hoped that she wouldn't question him about his sudden silence.
"Hey".
Walter turned as Corbett walked up to him.
"Yea. I want you to have this" He said, holding out a piece of metal, "It's our unit's challenge coin... for exemplary service on a mission".
He stared at him.
What the fuck was he meant to say to that?!
The lieutenant stared back.
"... Okay" Corbett finally said awkwardly, making a move to leave, but Walter quickly reached out to stop him.
"Okay. Hey, okay, um... hold on a second".
His throat protested against every syllable, and he longed to head back to the garage and drown himself in ice-cream. But he kind of did owe it to the soldier to do something nice in return since apparently friendships were based on equal give and take and he wasn't saying that he wanted to be friends with the man but-
"Take this" Walter said, holding out the piece of paper he'd hastily scribbled on, "It's an override code for your DVR. Free war movies for life".
Corbett glanced down at it before huffing a laugh, and Walter suddenly realised that maybe giving war movies to a soldier wasn't the socially correct thing to do. But the man just shook his head, before throwing an arm over his shoulder.
"Come on".
So- So they were friends now?
"Okay".
It was two hours later before they got back to HQ, and Walter had never been more grateful to see the unfriendly concrete and metal structure before.
"If I was any more exhausted, I'd melt into a puddle" Toby complained, trudging along next to him. He merely smiled in response, hoping the collar of his shirt was still hiding the bruises that had already undoubtedly started to form around his neck.
"You guys are back!" Sylvester exclaimed, "Walter!"
"Hey" He greeted gladly, "How you doing?"
The man dragged him into a tight hug.
"Next time, Walter, I will be with you on the mission, I promise".
"You were, pal, you were right there".
"No. Bullets weren't flying in here. I'll be there".
Sylvester patted him on the shoulder before muttering a quick greeting to Toby and walking away. Walter watched him leave, fondness and pride swelling in his heart, before making his way back to his desk. He had barely sat down before an ice pack landed right in front of him.
Blinking, he stared at it for a moment before frowning.
"Thought you might need it".
Turning, he found Toby reclining in his chair, his feet crossed up on the desk.
"... For what?"
"For whatever the hell's up with your throat".
His hand automatically raised to his collar, only to find that it was still buttoned up as high as it could do. Toby smirked and nodded at the ice pack.
"How did you-?"
"You haven't been this quiet since you got your wisdom teeth pulled, 197" Hereplied dryly, "So I knew it had to be throat-and-or-mouth related. Considering you're still smiling and frowning fine, I'd put money on the former. What's the damage?"
He hesitated for a moment, making sure that Megan couldn't see him and start to worry, before reaching up and tugging at his tie. Loosening it completely, he undid the first few buttons on his shirt and pulled down the collar to reveal-
"Woah".
Toby gave a low whistle.
"Woah… Man, someone really did a number on that neck of yours. You should have gotten that checked out before we left the military base".
"I'm fine".
"Kid, I can see the individual fingers of the bastard who strangled you" He shot back, "You are not fine".
Swinging his legs off the desk, Toby jumped up and made his way over, immediately taking hold of his face and tilting his head up to the light. The pull of bruised skin made him wince, and the doctor muttered out a quick apology even as he continued to poke and prod at his throat.
"Hmm… no bones broken, or blood vessels, either. You got off lucky, kid".
"Don't feel very lucky" He muttered, "And what have I told you about calling me that?"
Toby picked up the ice pack, shoved it into his hand, and then pressed it against his neck.
"You shouldn't be telling anyone anything right now" He scolded, "Keep that there until the swelling goes down".
Perching on the edge of his desk, he picked up Walter's other hand and turned it palm up. His nails were stained red.
"Huh. Defensive wounds. Good for you, kid".
Walter glowered at him, but the doctor took no notice.
"You tell Cabe yet?"
"Why-"
"Don't speak" He interrupted, more than loving the younger man's forced silence, "As for why, because he's your dad, 197. And- No, no, don't you even pretend to deny it, kid, he is one-hundred-percent your father and I don't need to be a psychologist to work that out. The fact that I noticed you were hiding something, means that he did too".
Walter winced, already dreading the inevitable phone call later that night.
"Paige" He tried to explain briefly.
Toby frowned, "Paige? Gallo gave her a lift home, right? Or- Hang on, that's your excuse?"
He shrugged sheepishly, the ice doing wonders for the ache in his throat.
"Seriously?" Toby gave him a dry look, "Seriously? You didn't tell Cabe some rebel whackjob strangled you because he was too busy driving Paige home?! What about in Bosnia? What about on the plane ride here?!"
"... Sleeping".
"He was-"
Toby stopped, pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a deep breath.
"Okay, 197. Remember when you and I had that little discussion about telling people when you were hurt?"
Walter reluctantly nodded.
"Very good. Now, do you remember me saying that when you are hurt, that takes priority over less-important things?"
Another nod, despite his automatic response to snap, that he had an eidetic memory.
"Excellent. Well, you see, kid, here's the thing. Your injury, i.e. strangulation, is one of those little 'hurt' things that takes priority over less important things, i.e. Cabe taking a nap. Got it?"
He opened his mouth to protest but Toby shot him a dark look.
Walter slowly shut his mouth once more.
"I'm gonna take that as a yes" the doctor said simply, "And I'm also gonna let one Agent Gallo know that you currently cannot talk, so if he wants to lecture you about safety and injuries and general acting-like-a-human-ness again, then now's the perfect time to do so!"
He stood up, clapped him on the shoulder, and returned to his desk.
"It was nice not talking with you, Walt".