By the time they reached shore, both Mac and Jack vowed, silently and to each other aloud, that they were never going swimming again. They stood on the rocky sand near the water trying to ring out their clothes a little.

"I'm ffff...freaking fffree...eezing."

"Yeah," Mac agreed, his teeth chattering now that the cool night air was hitting him, too. "Good. Thing. We … Have clothes … in the … van," Mac managed through his shivers.

"Can't wait to get bbb...back to LA," Jack said, only marginally more intelligibly.

"First stop, Vienna," Mac said, holding up the canister.

"Let's go, kid."

They took off at a steady clip, rehashing the mission already, knowing Thornton was going to play Monday morning quarterback no matter what. They liked to talk it through before hand. It was just another way they had each other's backs.

"Come on, Jack, let's hurry up. I'm freezing."

"I am too, kid."

Jack didn't think either of them could stand too much time cold and wet like this without regretting it. And Mac had like zero body fat. Well, realistically not zero. But not a lot. And it wasn't like the kid didn't eat. When he thought about it, Mac ate like a teenage football player. Just … getting him to think about it was sometimes a challenge. That and he ran half marathons. Like for fun.

One thing all that running was apparently good for was not getting winded even after you'd swam over a mile in freezing water and had to practically climb a cliff to get to your van. Mac didn't even slow down until he realized Jack wasn't right beside him.

"You okay, Jack?" he asked as he stopped and gave his partner a hand up a gravelly section of hill he'd already scaled more through speed than skill.

"Yeah," Jack puffed. "Just don't have legs like a gazelle."

Mac smirked. "Keep telling you you should run with me."

"I run!" he said defensively.

"On the treadmill."

"That's still runnin'."

Mac snickered. "Basic must've been Hell for you, seriously."

"That's the thing, Mr. Gazelle. We ain't in the Army anymore and I don't see any reason to run every morning like you're in trouble. You'd think you were still in the Army, the way you kick your own ass every morning. I somehow think you must've loved it."

Mac shrugged as they finally made it to the paved road. "There's the van," he pointed to parking lights, just visible in the distance. "I'll be honest, the running was the only part I liked. I always liked to run."

"You were good at all of it," Jack observed.

"Sure." Mac shrugged again. Then he grinned. "Including getting the best of you, old man," he teased.

"You wish," Jack laughed, taking a playful swing at his partner.

Mac danced out of his way. "And here I thought you didn't want to start the zombie apocalypse." Mac waved the canister at Jack, laughing at Jack's immediate look of horror.

"Shit! I forgot all about that!"

Mac laughed. "Oh, man, I wish you could see your face."

"Not funny, there, Angus!"

"False." He laughed again. "Nikki'll think it's funny."

"As funny as you using a drink tray as body armor?" Jack asked with a raise of his eyebrows.

"You think stuff like that'll get me in trouble with her, but actually…" He trailed off.

"Actually, what?" Jack smirked.

Suddenly Mac didn't feel as cold. He hated how easily he blushed. But at least he felt a little warmer.

"Nothing. Forget it."

"You mean she thinks it's hot." Jack chucked. "Is that what's doubled your crazy assed reckless streak lately?"

"Shut up, Jack," Mac said, giving Jack shove, knowing he wouldn't get shoved in return now with the glowing biohazard in his hand.

"Oh, ima tell her and ima tell her you did it to try to get some."

Mac grinned as they approached the van. "That's not gonna discourage her." He laughed. But he decided he wanted to get ahead of Jack anyway. "Nikki!"

When she didn't answer, despite the doors of the van being open, he said more questioningly, "Nikki?" Still nothing. "Nikki?"

Then he froze.

Nikki was right in front of them. But so was someone else. And that someone was holding her by her neck, and had a gun to her head. Tears ran down her face.

Mac didn't think it was possible to be much colder than he already felt, but seeing her like that turned his blood to ice water.

She choked out. "I'm sorry. I…"

The man choked her off. "The canister, please."

Mac saw Jack positioning himself to try to get the upper hand out of the corner of his eye. He managed to keep his voice completely level. "You let her go."

The man's cool blue eyes looked almost amused. "That's not how these exchanges work, Mr. MacGyver." The man gestured toward Mac. "You hand over the canister, and I will let your friend live."

Jack took a step toward them, thinking I he changed his angle a little, he might be able to get a shot around Nikki. "Don't do it, Mac."

The man pulled Nikki against him roughly, choking her to the point of gasping and coughing. Mac's eyes widened. The man raised an eyebrow. "Give it to me, and nobody else will get hurt."

Mac held the canister out in front of him. "Maybe I drop this right now, we all die."

His voice said he'd do it, but something in his face must've given him away. The man smirked at him. "You won't kill her, but I will."

One of the man's henchmen cracked Jack across the back of the head and Mac's one real hope of taking this guy out dropped heavily to the pavement.

Nikki's eyes widened and her lip quivered but she bit out, "Don't give it to him, Mac."

The man drove the gun into her, hard. She cried out.

"You son of a bitch!" Mac growled. But he felt a thread of panic. There was no way out of this. He swallowed hard.

The man was getting impatient. Finally, he simply demanded the canister. Then he said with icy certainty, "I will not ask you again.

Feeling like he was teetering on the edge of a cliff, Mac passed the man the canister. At least if he could get his team out of here alive, they could chase this guy down."

The man gave him a tight smile. "Thank you."

He shoved Nikki away from him, and before Mac could even react, he pulled the trigger and the deafening shot rang out.

Nikki disappeared over the edge of the bridge and Mac acted purely on reflex reaching out, screaming, "No!"

There was another explosive pop, and Mac felt like a truck hit him. He was falling, falling. He crashed into a wall of ice. Then, nothing.

Jack groaned. A lightning bolt lanced through his head. It took a minute to get on top of the pain. A few deep breaths and memories of how he got onto the ground started surfacing.

He slowly opened his eyes, hoping he was where he remembered falling and not being held prisoner somewhere.

The van's headlights were still on and he could see the faint glow of equipment, but it didn't seem anyone else was around. "Mac?" he called softly.

He was answered only by the distant sounds of a few party boats and traffic, and the somewhat closer sound of the waters of Lake Como lapping against the shore.

He tried again. "Mac? Nikki?"

When he got no answer again, his stomach knotted into a tight ball of fear. He started scrambling to his feet, but was struck by a wave of dizziness and nausea that dropped him promptly back onto the pavement. It also told him he probably had a pretty breathtaking concussion.

"Mac!" he called loudly, this time getting to his feet more slowly.

When Mac still didn't answer, cold fear tightened its band around him, now including his throat. His main gun was gone, so he grabbed his back up piece out of his ankle holster and moved toward the van.

It quickly became clear that he was alone. "Mac!?" he shouted loudly, not really expecting, and not getting an answer.

He climbed into the van and picked up the headset he knew was connected to HQ. "Patty?" he tried, hoping like Hell this wasn't as fried as his earpiece had been.

"Dalton? What's going on?" the familiar voice asked sharply, and a shade less calmly than he was used to.

Jack rapidly ran down everything he remembered.

"Something is jamming our satellite view," Thornton said, frustration clear. "I'm calling for an extraction. We have interorganizational assets in the area."

"Mac isn't…"

"They'll be there in ten minutes Jack. Your job just became getting out of Italy before their intelligence services pick you up. I'll send a crew to look for Mac and Nikki."

"I'm not leavin' here without them! They're my team. I'm Mac's Overwatch, and…"

"Perhaps you should have thought of that before he disappeared from under your nose, Dalton," she snapped.

Jack tore off the headset and leapt out of the van. He paced around outside of it, running his hands through his short hair. "Goddamnit!" he more or less shouted. She was right of course. He'd been so focused on the guy he could see with a gun, he'd left himself wide open.

He took a ragged breath. Ten minutes. Okay, Dalton. That's not much, but it's not nothin'. Jack started to scan the scene more carefully. As he slowed himself down, the throbbing headache became a little easier to deal with. He squinted at the bridge. Blood.

He covered the ground quickly and looked over the edge.

The light was low, even with the headlights from the van still on, but Mac's white shirt stood out starkly against the dark water. He was floating face down. "Nonononono," Jack said, not even realizing he was speaking aloud. His first impulse was to just jump right in and fish out his motionless partner. "Mac!" he shouted.

The figure in the water jerked, and his head came up. Jack heard his gasp for breath. "Mac!" he shouted again.

Over the sound of the water, he heard a feeble reply, "Jack."

Jack kicked his boots off. "I'm comin' kid."

Mac flipped over with some effort and cried out in pain. Jack didn't need more light to see the front of Mac's shirt was stained bright red. "Shit … Hang on Mac!"

Jack ran back over to the van and picked up the headset again. Thornton was still there. "Dalton. Dalton, respond! Dalton, do you copy?"

"Patty," he started.

"Dalton, you need…"

"Patty, I ain't got time for you to chew me a new one. I found Mac. He's in the water and it looks like he's hit. So I'd take it as a great kindness if you'd make sure there's some help on the way with that extraction. I'm goin' in."

"Dalton!"

Jack tossed the headset again. He ran the short distance to the edge of the bridge and went right over.

He splashed down about ten feet from Mac. He took a quick look around. Nikki definitely wasn't in the water, too. A few quick strokes had him at Mac's side. Mac was just floating there on his back. "Come on Mac, don't be dead."

"I'm not dead. I'm trying to minimize blood loss," he said softly, then coughed. "Ow, hell."

"There's an extraction on the way, kid. Now, let's get you…"

"Nikki," he said weakly. "Is Nikki…?"

"I don't see her anywhere, bud," Jack said, treading water and trying to decide how best to get a hold on his friend without making his pain any worse than he had to.

"She," he started and then started coughing again. "Ah," he gasped like it was a twisted ankle and not a gsw to the chest, Jack thought. "She has to be. He shot her, Jack," he said urgently. Mac seemed to forget he was trying to minimize blood loss and shifted trying to look around. She went in the water right before me … He shot her," he said again, more breathlessly.

Finally, Jack was able to get an arm under him. "We'll find her, Mac. Okay?"

"We have to," he tried again, but this time it was damn near a sob to Jack's trained ear.

"Let's get you out of the water before you freeze, okay?"

"Cold is good," he managed. "Slows heart rate, reduces the need for oxygen."

"Okay, kid, but let's get you closer to shore anyway."

"I … okay," he said, and it was almost a sigh. He moaned when Jack changed his hold on him. "Bullet's still in there," he gasped.

The fact that when Mac coughed there hadn't been blood was good. But the bullet still rattling around in there was not.

Jack was trying to be insanely careful moving them through the water, but Mac coughed again and Jack lost his hold. Mac dropped below the water and Jack grabbed at him in a moment of near panic.

He pulled Mac back up, but he'd grabbed the shoulder near the bullet wound. Mac yelped, and then his head dropped. "Mac?"

No answer this time. Jack's hands were so cold now, he couldn't feel Mac's pulse. He did his best to get them to the nearby shore with the least amount of jostling possible. He placed Mac on the ground and put a hand in the middle of his chest. He could feel the rise and fall of his partner's breath.

He thought he could hear some sort of vehicle crunching to a stop above them. Jack could hear voices now, and he hoped like Hell it was whoever offered aid to Thornton, but right now, he'd take what he could get.

"Hey! Down here!"

A head appeared and a flashlight struck Jack in the eyes. "You Dalton?"

"Yeah. My partner's been shot."

"Stay put. We'll come to you."

Jack sat shivering on the ground next to Mac, hand resting on Mac's chest so he could continue to assure himself that Mac was still breathing.

The blood soaking Mac's shirt was warm, telling Jack he was still bleeding heavily.

After what seemed like forever, their rescuers reached them, and absolved Jack of the responsibility of monitoring the young man, but not of his guilt that he'd been lying on the pavement while someone put a bullet in his partner's chest.