A/N: Welcome to the second installation in the Book of Bravo series! Just as a side note, this is based in Season 1, after Clay joins the team, and before they go to Afghanistan, so he's still very wet around the ears!

Enjoy!

0830 – Blackburn house, Virginia Beach

When Eric woke up that morning, he knew something was off.

Physically, he felt fine. No sore muscles from his workout the day before, sinuses were clear, shoulders and neck weren't tense. But there was this light… niggle. The smallest amount of pressure in the back of his head.

He'd long ago learned not to ignore changes, no matter how small they were, because they often signified something greater.

But what that could be, he had no idea.

Bravo were stateside, having returned from their last spin up two days ago, so it couldn't be them. His various other support staff; Mandy, Lisa, and the like – they were all home too.

If he really wanted to include them, Alpha were on a joint op with Charlie team in Ethiopia, as they'd been the only ones available to back them up. But as they technically weren't his responsibility for another two months - when their LC retired and they officially shifted under his command - he didn't think they should be included in his list of concerns. Besides, they were done and on their way back home – so even if they were included on that list, it couldn't be them, either.

It was… peculiar, to say the least.

When he sat down at the table to enjoy breakfast with his family, still that niggle persisted; barely there, but obvious enough to be annoying. When he mentioned it to his wife, she gave his neck a gentle squeeze, followed by a kiss to the forehead, and told him to stop looking for trouble when it didn't exist; least he inadvertently bring it on himself.

His daughter laughed at him, said it was like his Spidey-senses were tingling.

That… was a pretty apt description, actually.

They were in the process of discussing what they were going to do for the weekend, given he actually happened to be home for once, when his phone rang.

"I told you," his wife sighed, clearing his plate for him as he made the rounds of kissing his kids on the forehead. It was easier to do it now while they were all gathered, then hunt them down individually. "You look for trouble when there isn't any, and you somehow find it."

"Is this your way of telling me I don't listen to you?" he asked, nodding in thanks when she got the coffee percolating for him. At the very least, he'd go onto base fortified with his favourite brand.

It was the weekend, after all.

His wife smirked at him. "Well, if the shoe fits."

"Touché," he laughed as he headed to the bedroom to get changed. "Touché."

1000 – Virginia Naval Base, Briefing Room – Virginia Beach

"Thank you all for coming in," Mandy said the moment they were seated. "And I'm sorry for pulling you in on the weekend, but we're short on time."

Jason sighed and leaned back in his chair, drumming his fingers on his thigh. He'd had plans to watch Mikey train for an upcoming hockey match; now it sounded like it wouldn't be happening any time soon. As soon as he was done, he'd need to text him and tell him he couldn't make it. "Let me guess; arms dealer out in the open that the agency is getting all hot under the collar over."

"Drug lord meet up," Clay added, smirking slightly as he rubbed his eyes. The kid had been at some charity ball at Stella's school the night before, so he hadn't gotten to bed until well after midnight, apparently.

"Another Jihadi Jane rescue," Sonny drawled, looking less than impressed. "Always love me one-a those."

"Yeah 'cause it was your twin that was bitching so much about the last one," Lisa muttered. Brock, who was sitting beside her, snorted and gave her a not so subtle high five.

"Try Hezbollah kidnapping an American school group from Brazil." Any humour that had been in the room, evaporated instantly.

Mandy nodded once, her lips drawn in a thin line; an expression Jason was well familiar with – because it was her patented no-nonsense, 'shit is about to hit the fan' look. With the click of a button, Mandy pulled up the few photos they had. "Every three months, as part of an extra credit effort, an outreach programme arranges for groups of American students to go overseas to cities that are riddled with poverty. They're there for three weeks, where they build houses or classrooms to assist those areas and give the local families a better chance at life."

"I know those programs," he said, fiddling with the alarmingly thin folder in front of him. "Emma's school constantly advertises it. She wanted to go, but the price to send your kid is ridiculous, and that's for the basic options. It's obvious it's a way for rich parents to feel like they're giving their kids perspective by showing them how the other half live; give them a bit of a reality check from their pampered lives."

"Wow, Jase – tell us how you really feel," Trent laughed.

He smirked at his medic, but didn't reply; instead waving for Mandy to continue.

"Two weeks ago, a group of fifty American students along with ten teachers flew to São Paulo where they met up with three outreach officials, who arranged for them to build four new classrooms at a school on the outskirts of one of the favelas. When the group failed to check in this morning, another outreach official went looking for them at the homestead they house participants in, and it was empty."

"How the hell do you lose sixty three people without anyone noticing?" Sonny asked, looking confused and far more alert than he had when he walked in. "It's not like you can misplace a group that size in a crowd."

"From what we've been told, standard operating procedures are that one of the officials calls into base to let them know they're done for the day before they head back to the homestead. The official confirmed they checked in when they finished yesterday, but it looks like they never made it back."

Mandy pulled up a photo of some kids posing in the kitchen wearing aprons and those stupidly tall chefs' hats you could get, with grins plastered on their faces. Jason couldn't help the dread that filled him at the sight. The kids were so young, having fun on what was likely their first trip away without their parents, and now they were missing. Just the thought of that happening to Emma or Mikey… "As the students help with the cooking and cleaning, there was no one at the premises to report them missing," Mandy continued. "Unfortunately, this means no one knew anything was wrong until they missed this morning's check-in."

Jason scratched his cheek, scenarios running through his head as to how someone managed to take such a large group without anyone noticing. It was either a fortuitous snatch-and-grab gone right, or it was a coordinated attack. "Do we know what happened?"

Mandy shook her head. "After gaining access to the nearest traffic cameras in the area, we found the bus that they use to transport the students to and from the favela taking a backroad out of the city. We suspect hijackers were either waiting on board for them, or intercepted them on route to their homestead. Due to the poverty of the area they were working in, there aren't any cameras in the immediate vicinity to show us exactly what went down, or if there were any injuries or casualties. We've been tracking the bus via satellite since we found it, and its heading west; we believe towards Foz do Iguaçu."

"You believe?" Clay murmured thoughtfully. "You don't know?"

"It's still travelling." Mandy pulled up a map, showing three main roads leading from São Paulo to Foz do Iguaçu. "The toll road takes thirteen hours, non-toll – which they're on – is fourteen; that's by car, and without stops. Accounting for the fact that they're travelling by bus and stops for at least the hijackers, if not the group as well, it's clearly taken longer than that.

"What worries us is that there've been no reports to the Polícia Federal of a bus travelling with people in distress or calling for help, so we suspect drugs or a knock-out gas may be involved; which given the number of hostages, is very probable to avoid being overpowered, even with casualties. The bus will be arriving in Cascavel in the next hour; from there it'll either continue on to Foz do Iguaçu, or it could head south into Argentina."

"The good ol' Triple Frontier region," Sonny muttered before pointing at Clay. "Last time we were there, you were just a lil tadpole, Spense; waiting for yours truly to rescue you from the pits of SERE. Oh how far our baby frogman has come."

"Case of beer for the not-so-new guy going on his first mission in South America?" Ray asked, smirking when Clay glared at him. "I woulda said mission to a repeat location, but we were there – you weren't."

"The Triple Frontier area is still Hezbollah territory, I'm guessing?" Jason asked, ignoring Clay's irritated mumblings as he looked over his notes. He sighed when he found his answer. "Yep. Guess some things stay the same. Where are the Brazilian Cotê Commandos in all of this? That, uh… what was his name, the one we worked with last time?"

"Commander Barbosa," Brock said after a beat of silence. Jason looked at him, disbelieving, and the K-9 handler shrugged. "I remember because of Pirates of the Caribbean."

Jason rolled his eyes. "Okay. Anyway, Barbosa and his lot were good to work with last time, and you said this is their area of expertise, so…"

"The Cotê Commandos are currently tied up in another skirmish in Pico da Neblina National Park, which is on Brazils northern border, and they aren't expected to leave the jungle they're in the middle of until next week," Mandy told them. "Because of this, the Brazilian government has given us permission to operate on their soil and execute this mission as required. However I must stress that they will be watching us closely, so we need to avoid civilian casualties at all costs."

"That could be a big ask," Clay mused, looking at his folder. "Given the places they could go with the group, there's every likelihood this will turn into a bloodbath."

"Agreed, which the Brazilian government is aware of." Mandy folded her arms, and sighed heavily. "Like I said, we suspect this is a Hezbollah backed op; however until a ransom is made, it could be anyone; which means they could be easier, or harder, to take down than we expect."

Ray dropped his head back and groaned. "Plan for the worst, hope for the best. I love these missions."

"We're wheels up in thirty," Blackburn told them, not bothering to acknowledge Ray's complaint. "The State Department has ordered us to do whatever we have too to bring those kids home. Obviously, we want to try avoid angering our allies and making things worse with the Paraguayans; but as the Brazilians aren't available for tasking, and the Argentinians and Paraguayans are unwilling to incur further Hezbollah wrath and – if it is indeed them – as well as international scorn, they're giving us free rein on this."

He nodded at the varying murmurs of surprise. "It's a nine hour flight to Foz do Iguaçu; which by that point we'll have a plan of attack as to how best to get you in and the kids out of there. If needed, we'll wait in São Paulo until its dark to HAHO you in, so prepare for that, too. Pack your gear; I'll see you on board."

Jason heaved a sigh as he stood, ruffling Cerberus' ears as the Malagator trotted past. Sixty three people, most of them kids who would be scared out of their minds – they'd be lucky if they completed the mission with everyone alive.

1045 – Virginia Beach Runway, C130 Hercules Cargo Hold – Virginia Beach

On board the plane, Jason set up his hammock, his phone wedged between his shoulder and his ear as he spoke with Mikey and gave him the bad news. Once again, his plans went out the window because someone – or in this case a lot of someone's – needed saving. Which meant he lost out on time with his family. He'd always known what he was signing up for, both when he joined the teams and decided to settle down, but sometimes it was just… hard.

His kids were growing up; Emma was preparing for college, and Mikey was getting ready for high school. They wouldn't be at home for much longer – they might not want to spend time with him much longer; which meant he wanted to make the most of it while he could. Unfortunately, missions like this made it almost impossible to be the dad he wanted to be. "I'm really sorry I can't be there to watch, Mikey; we're being spun up – I'm hanging my hammock as we speak."

"It's okay, dad, really," Mikey mumbled. Despite the reassurances, he could tell that his son was upset. They'd been planning on him watching this training for weeks, as it was the weekend before his team's first match. "It's just training."

"That's not the point," he sighed, before an idea hit him. "Hang on, your mum's going to be watching, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell her to video call me when she's there, okay? I can't watch in person, but that doesn't mean I can't still watch you live."

"You mean that?" As he'd hoped, his son suddenly sounded ten times happier. Jason smiled at that.

"Absolutely. In fact, tell her to take her tablet." He had another idea forming, but it did mean sweet talking Davis to get her to help.

"Okay, will do. Talk to you in a couple hours?"

"Sounds good, bud." He ended the call and slid his phone into his pocket, nodding at Blackburn as he wandered past. His CO was frowning slightly and rubbing his forehead, which was never a good sign. Side-lining his plan to find Davis for a few minutes, he tapped Eric on the shoulder. "Hey, you good?"

"Fine," Eric replied, lowering his hand and heaving a sigh. "Just… I think I can feel a headache coming on."

"Go see Trent, he'll pilfer the on board first aid kit for you. If you don't want to see him, then go see Danny, but I think he was going through the supplies Doc gave him." After saving Brock's life in South Sudan, Bravo had made the unanimous decision that Danny permanently belonged to Bravo; which meant the medic suddenly found himself on far more trips overseas than he'd ever expected, as well as overseeing a group of Tier One operators who… liked to challenge him. Apparently.

Jason had no idea what that was supposed to mean.

Doc had been thrilled, though, having someone he trusted on site to patch their sorry asses up straight away, rather than when they got back stateside. Danny was decidedly less so. Apparently.

Jason had no idea why. Bravo were delightful to deal with. Hardly ever hurt. A medic's best dream.

Danny was just confusing.

Shaking out the material of his hammock to make sure it wasn't twisted, Jason dropped his bag onto the jump seat before turning back to his LC. "The last thing we need is you fighting a full blown headache in the middle of this op, Blackburn," he added, ignoring Sonny's ranting and Clay's needling from somewhere in the hold. "I need all my guys at 100% - that includes you." Eric sighed, but went to Trent as suggested without a word of protest. That in itself was indication enough that the headache was bothering Blackburn more than he let on.

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. If you can please sit your asses down on a surface that is to your liking, we'll get airborne in five mikes."

Following the pilot's request, Jason parked himself onto one of the jump seats and strapped in. This mission would be an interesting one for sure, he just hoped it would also have a happy ending.

Story notes

HAHO – High Altitude High Opening Jump

Brazil's police are known as the Federal Police of Brazil, or Polícia Federal in Portuguese

Parque Nacional do Pico da Neblina = Pico da Neblina National Park

Brazilian Cotê Commandos are the Brazilian Special Forces group that Bravo partnered with in S1E07 – Borderlines. Commander Barbosa was the man they spoke with on the plane before the entered the forest.