Plot: Clay is injured and doesn't tell the team. But that's only because he doesn't know.
5: When the Morning Comes (One-Shot)
No mission is easy.
Sure, some are not as hard as others, and some require more effort than others, but there is no such thing as an easy mission. Straightforward maybe, but definitely not easy.
"Bravo Two, take Six and get high. Let me know the second our target convoy enters our kill zone." Commands Bravo One.
"Copy that. Let's roll, kid." Ray says as he gets to his feet and takes the dirt path that will give him and Clay a better vantage point of the area.
"Right behind you." Says Clay as he follows Ray footsteps, using his NVGs and the low hanging moon to light his path.
"Three, how we lookin'?" Jason asks into his comms. He'd sent Sonny and Trent to set explosives in the path of their target vehicle, effectively stopping the motorcade in the kill zone they set.
"Three to One, all set. Waiting for your word."
"Copy. Hold for my signal." Says Jason.
Trent adjusts his scope when he sees the target vehicles approaching. "I've got eyes on, Boss."
"Two?"
"Getting set."
"Copy. As soon as Three blows the charges and the motorcade stops, we take them out."
Five copies resounded through Hayes' comms.
Bravo Team waited.
The mission was to eliminate a local drug lord, who was rumored to be in the game for something more deadly than lowly heroine or meth. Mandy's intel suggested he was on the market for biological explosives. Brass and the CIA wanted the problem taken care of before things could get worse.
Straightforward enough. Right?
"Motorcade has entered the kill zone." Ray says.
"On my mark." Jason waits a few more seconds. "Three… two… one… blow it."
BOOOOOOOOM!
The three vehicles slam to a halt and fighting aged males pour out, taking aim and firing in no particular direction. Within a few, short seconds, those same men lay dead on the dirt ground, eliminated with expert shots from each member of Bravo.
"We're in the clear, Boss." Clay says after waiting a few moments.
"Bravo One to HAVOC base. Target eliminated."
"Good copy, One. Get what you came for and head for exfil." Lt. Commander Blackburn says from base.
"Good copy, out. All right. Sonny, Clay, Ray take watch. The rest of us will check the vehicles and then head for exfil."
After Two, Three and Six set up watch, One, Four and Five begin to look for any intel in the target vehicle and on the dead men. Trent took a photo of the drug lord for confirmation and then searched his body for anything they could use to find out who was selling deadly bioweapons. After a few minutes of searching, he'd found something that looked promising.
"Boss. I've got a briefcase over here." Trent says from the middle car. Jason, having come up empty in the lead car, jogs over to see what Four found. "I've got an address book, dates, meeting times and locations. Some sort of badge or key."
"One to HAVOC, come in?"
"Go for HAVOC."
"We've got a briefcase of intel here. Jackpot."
"That's a strong copy, One. Be advised the sun comes up in two hours. Best to be outta there before the drug lord's pals realize he didn't show up for work."
Jason can't help but smile as he takes the intel and secures it into his bag. "Copy, HAVOC. Heading for exf—"
"Contact east!" Clay suddenly shouts when he sees a small group of fighters materialize out of the darkness of night. The sound of gunfire breaks the once silent night as Bravo engages with the enemy.
"I've got more coming in hot. Southwest side!" shouts Ray as he ducks down and reloads his weapon. "There's too many, Jason!" he jumps back up and aims at the men quickly advancing but it doesn't appear to be doing them any good.
"HAVOC to One, you many fighting aged males closing on your current location. You'll be overrun unless you deviate from your position and make for the tree line that is due North of your position."
Hayes looks north, sees the trees Blackburn mentioned. It wasn't their original exfil plan, as he recalls seeing the backup area on the map before they arrived earlier in the day. He also recalls that route added 45 mikes to their exfil time.
"One to HAVOC. Can you get exfil any closer?"
"Stand by One."
Jason returns fire while he waits, covers Brock as he reloads his weapon, ducks back down to do the same.
"HAVOC to One. Exfil can meet you at a clearing 20 mikes from your current location, but the terrain in that area is less than ideal." Says Eric as he himself looks at a map Davis pulled up. "You'll have cover from the trees, but we won't have eyes on you with ISR."
"Copy that. We'll take it." Jason relays the info to his team and takes aim at the fighters. When given the word, each man makes for the trees. Trent and Sonny are the first to head for the tree line, covered by their brothers until they blended with the branches and leaves. Next were Ray and Brock, who double timed it as the fighters got closer and closer. Then it came down to Jason and Clay. "Kid, you're up."
Clay knew better than to argue with Jason at a time like this, so he readies himself, waits for his brothers to open fire, then runs for the trees.
The distance looked far at first, and he stumbled a couple times, but as fast as Clay ran, he crossed it in no time. Hands quickly grabbed onto his gear and pulled him down to the ground and he quickly joined his brothers in giving Jason cover as he ran for the trees himself.
Once within the cover of foliage, Bravo Team made their way towards their new exfil point, pushing themselves to go faster knowing they had many fighters on their tail. After a few minutes, Jason orders them to stop and take cover behind the large trees. He needed to know that everyone was good after that firefight.
"One minute. Everyone look yourselves over, let Trent know what, if any, injuries you have. No surprises." Orders Hayes as he worked to even out his breathing.
The injuries sustained were as minor as cuts from running into a tree branch to a twisted ankle from stepping on a rock. Jason found a graze on his left bicep and couldn't tell if it were from a bullet or branch, but other than that there were no serious injuries. Small victories.
Jason looks at Bravo, then to the slopped hill before them. "Okay, Blackburn said this terrain was rough, so let's go as easily as we can. Ray, you're up first, set up watch once there. I'll hold the back while everyone else moves."
Ray climbed the hill using rocks and roots as foot holds. He knew the others were watching his every step, so he didn't waste time in telling this what was safe to use and what wasn't.
One by one Bravo Team made their way up the hill. Sonny and Brock did so in little time, took up watch positions once topside with Ray. Trent took a little longer with his twisted ankle, but still moved at a good pace. Clay was moving well until he got about halfway up the hill. He lost his grip on a root but recovered quick enough to where no one noticed. At least, that's what he told himself. By the time he hauled himself over the dirt edge, breathing got a bit harder. He coughed a couple of times, then joined the others on watch while Jason made his was up to them.
Bravo Team continued their way towards exfil. Ray was still on point and Jason in the rear, but Brock had to throw Trent's arm over his shoulder as the medic's ankle was getting anything but better. No one said a word as they pushed on, listening for any sign of the fighters—or any other enemy that may be close by.
Spenser was really feeling like crap. And he didn't know why, which was slightly worrisome. Did I get hit back there? He thinks to himself. He knows Hayes—well, all the guys for that matter—hate it when someone keeps injuries from the team. But he looked himself over, saw no signs of injuries. So why is it getting harder to breathe?
"Clay? Clay?!" someone grabs his shoulders, places a hand under his bearded chin. "You good?"
Spenser blinks a few times. Jason? "Yeah, yeah, Boss, I'm good." He coughs a few times, then moves again, before Jason can question him further.
Bravo One isn't convinced. He'll have the kid get checked out back at base.
Soon, after what felt like hours after the firefight, the exfil site came into view. A chopper was waiting for them, someone waved them forward while another watched their six. Ray is the first on in the chopper, helping Sonny, then Trent inside. Brock was next when sparks bounced off the side of the aircraft right as someone shouted.
Jason turned around and took aim at one, four, fighters. The number multiplied. "Six, get in the chopper!" he yells.
Clay hears the words, but his mind and body are not one the same page. He, somehow, manages to take three steps before his legs give out completely.
Gravity takes over and he falls to the ground.
He tires, really he does, but he can't move.
"Man down!" Brock wastes no time in running back to the youngest SEALs side, kneeling over him and returning fire. Something catches his leg, but he does waver. When there is a lull in the gunfire, he grabs Spenser by his vest and limps the rest of the way to the still waiting chopper while his brothers gave him cover. "Jason! Last man!"
Hayes makes a break for the chopper, diving into the cab as it takes off. Multiple sets of hands grab hold of him and his gear, pulling him the rest of the way as the chopper fades into the dawn sky with bullets still striking the underbelly.
This is when he finally sees the state of his brothers.
Ray looks worn down, but relatively unhurt. Sonny has cuts all over his face and small leaves in his beard from running into the tree. Brock is holding a towel to the wound on his lower leg. And Trent is propped on his side as he tries to get a better look at—
"Clay!" says Jason as his eyes settle on the kid. Their kid. "What the hell happened? Trent?"
"I don't know!"
"I c-ca-n't… I… brea'the!" gasps Spenser. His hands fumble around, trying to grip something—someone—but he came up empty. "…c-can't… I… ca't… I…"
Trent is working through his own pain, running his hands over the kid's body, trying to find the source of –
"Did he get hit?"
"He didn't say anything if he did."
"There's no blood! I can't see what's wr—" Trent stops himself short when his fingers find a dent, no, two dents in Spenser's gear. "He took a couple rounds to his back plate, probably cracked his ribs. Help me get his gear off."
Jason and Sonny expertly removed Clay's gear, then Trent cuts away his shirt. Ray turns on a light, making sure that Trent could see well enough. Brock sits back out of the way, but ready by Trent's medical bag when needed.
"If this is from the first ambush, then the bullets could've cracked or broken his ribs." Trent repeats, though he is mostly talking to himself at this point. "That could've punctured his lungs and have only gotten worse since—"
Clay is still gasping. His eyes are darting around. He barely feels someone place a hand on his arm, his leg, but those sensations are quickly fading as the edges of his vision darken.
"Stay with me, Spenser! Just a little longer."
"ETA two mikes!" the pilot shouts, knowing the situation behind him is dire.
"You hear that, kid? Just a couple more minutes and Trent and the docs are gonna patch you up." Clay can see Ray's mouth moving, but the words are jumbled. "Clay? Clay?!"
Clay doesn't hear his name.
His eyes slip shut.
He stops breathing right as the chopper lands.
Bravo Team has had better days. One could tell just by looking at the men that this mission, as straightforward as it was, was really anything but. Missions were never easy, and rarely straightforward.
The dawning day found the team in various places. Jason paced in the waiting room with his hands either shoved in his pockets or clasped behind his head. It switched often. Ray sat slumped in a chair, too tired to change his position after the many hours that passed. Sonny, with cleaned and bandaged cuts on his face, leaned against the wall. He would say he was holding it up, but it was really the other way around. Trent, after Blackburn and Hayes ordered him to, finally got his ankle looked at. Hairline fracture. He'd have to wear a boot for a couple of weeks, but he'd be fine. Brock, having bled in the chopper and in the base hospital entrance, willingly went with a nurse who gently grabbed his arm. He'd probably fall it is wasn't for her firm grip. That and the wheelchair she brought for him.
And Clay? Well, the doctors haven't told them yet.
"Bravo Team?"
Everyone whips around at the sound of the doctor's voice. "Spenser is going to be fine. He gave us a scare on the table, but after we fixed his ribs and repaired his lungs, he stabilized quickly."
There was an audible sigh of relief in the room.
"Can we see him?" Hayes asks, knowing it was on everyone's mind.
The doctor considers this, and the rules they have in place. "Sure. But make it quick. He's just had surgery and really needs his rest."
Bravo says their thanks and follow the small woman to Clay's room. Once there, she leaves them to attend to her other duties, telling them to call should they need something.
Jason is the first on in the room, stopping by Spenser's side. He looks small, like an actual kid, even though they know he isn't. Six's eyes flutter open at the slight change in the room.
"Hey, Ken Doll."
Clay cracks a half smile, but nothing more than that. Doing so would take too much energy. And that was something he sorely lacked.
"We really need to work on some things with you, kid." Hayes pats Clay's leg. "Why didn't you say anything?"
Clay pushes himself up as much as he can, which isn't very much at all. "I di't… know."
Seems reasonable enough.
"We're just glad your okay. Gave us a real scare." Ray tells the young SEAL.
"S'ry." Clay closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them again, looks at the state of brothers. "You… 'kay?"
Ray points at each man as he says, "Well, Sonny ran into a tree, Trent lost a fight with a rock, and Brock took a bullet meant for your skinny ass."
Sonny adds, "It came out of nowhere."
"It was dark!" Trent quickly jumps in, defending himself. "And the rock was larger than it looked!"
Brock simply shrugs from his seat, his leg propped up. "And Jase and Ray are just old. Could barely keep up."
"Oh, shit!"
"Zing!"
-FIN-
