AN: For any of you that haven't read my America's Elite fic, Jessie is the OC that I have created as a significant other for Brock. I haven't explained or delved into their relationship too much yet, but I hope to in the future!
Day 6 - Gunpoint (replacement for the "Insomnia" prompt)
The team moved silently and swiftly through the halls of their target building. They eliminated targets before any of them managed to get a shot off, as the element of surprise was heavily in their favor. After a few more minutes of searching, they came up with nothing.
"Havoc this is one, it's a dry hole. HVT does not appear to be present in the target building. Gathering evidence now." Jason said as the team relaxed and began to look over the main room.
"Brock, Sonny, Clay, check the rooms we passed on the way in, make sure we didn't miss anything. Ray, post up on overwatch. The rest of us will start bagging everything." Jason directed the team and they each split off to do as they were told.
Brock walked calmly into one of the rooms they had passed on the way in, hand on the weapon at his side just in case. He started to reach into his pack to get bags for the intel in the room when he sensed movement behind him. He turned around just in time to watch the butt of a gun coming at his face before it was lights out.
Sony was one room over and stopped what he was doing abruptly at the sound of a heavy thud. He thought for a second that maybe one of the other guys had just knocked over a table, but this sound was different. It sounded more solid, almost like a body dropping. He tried to ignore it, but his gut was telling him something was wrong. He decided to listen to it and carefully crept down the hallway and turned the corner into the room he had seen Brock enter moments earlier. Red-hot anger gripped him and he snapped his weapon up from his side and loudly clicked the safety off, announcing his presence to their HVT, who was standing over and unconscious Brock.
"I'm not sure if you understand me or not, but I suggest you step away from him." Sonny said in a tone that would make any normal person's blood run cold. But their HVT was not a normal person. They never were. Instead of doing as he was instructed, the man harshly grabbed Brock under his shoulder and hauled his limp body to his feet, and pressed the barrel of Brock's own sidearm into his temple.
"Three to all Bravo elements we have a situation. I have eyes on the HVT." Sonny said into his mic, without moving his right finger far from the trigger.
"Copy three this is one. Can you engage?" Jason asked, sensing the tension in Sonny's voice, as they all did. Something was wrong, very wrong.
"Negative one. He's got a gun to Five's head." There it was. Everyone dropped what they were doing and began forming a plan. Clay moved from his room to stand next to Sonny, the target - who seemed to be unnervingly calm - barely flinched at the sight of another gun trained on him. Worry flooded Clay at the sight of their brother, who still had yet to regain consciousness from what he figured had been a nasty blow to the head. He began to try the different languages he knew, hoping the man would respond to one of them.
"Two, do you have eyes on the situation?" Jason asked, moving towards the room where the standoff was taking place.
"Affirmative. I've got a shot." Ray replied.
"Copy. Wait for my signal." Jason said.
"Havoc this is one, we've got a situation. We found our HVT, but he's holding a weapon on Five. Permission to change mission objective." Jason asked, fully prepared to change the objective anyway. He tried to stick to the rules but when the life of one of his men hung in the balance. Blackburn shared worried glances with the other members of Havoc.
"Copy Bravo one, shoot to wound if possible, but permission to shoot to kill if there is no other option." Commander replied, feeling as though he could cut the tension in the room with a knife.
"You got that Two?" Jason asked.
"Affirmative. I've got a shot to wound. Waiting on your go ahead." Ray replied, trying to keep his nerves down. He could see the situation through his scope from his overwatch position in the building across the street. This meant he could see that Brock had finally come to, and started to stir as his current state registered and panic began to set in.
"Hey, hey Brock, easy. We have a plan but I need you to relax, ok? Understand?" Sonny said, trying to soothe the fear he could see in his brother's eyes. After a few seconds, Brock managed a short nod.
"Two, take the shot."
In the next breath, Brock heard the ping of a small piece of glass breaking behind him, and then suddenly felt dropped to the ground, gasping for air as the arm that had been around his neck had started to cut off his airway. The man who had been holding him crumpled into a heap as the sidearm was propelled out of his hand by a bullet from Ray's sniper rifle. The HVT cuffed roughly by Sonny, who caught a roll of gauze tossed to him by Trent as the medic made his way to Brock's side.
"Hey, that's it, just take deep breaths. Anything hurt other than your head?" Trent asked, checking his friend's pupils as he had already begun his assessment.
"Ok good, that's good. I think he might have busted your cheekbone, it looks like there's a small divot. The sooner we get you an ice pack, the sooner we'll know how big of a shiner you'll be sporting when you get home to Jessie." Trent said, not missing the sluggish pupils and dazed look in his friend's eyes. Brock nodded though, which meant he was able to keep up with the conversation which was a good sign.
"Metal, help me lift him. We gotta go slow, I don't want him to pass out until I'm able to fully monitor his breathing." Trent said, and Metal quickly came to support Brock's other side. The change from laying to standing, however slow, was still enough to make him see stars. He didn't notice how heavily he was leaning on Trent and Metal until they started moving. He tried to keep pace, doing what he could despite the dizziness. The sound of the rotors of their exfil birds made his head pound and his eyes twist shut in pain, so much so that he didn't even notice being lifted into the chopper or laid gently on the floor, soon surrounded by his team, but that could have been partly due to the fact that he soon again lost consciousness.
Later…
Brock ran his hand over the grip again and again. It had been a few days since the mission, and he had been at home with Jessie and even Cerberus tending to him as he nursed a fractured cheekbone and yet another concussion. He had finally convinced Jessie to let him out of the house, even if it was just to do some mild cleaning on base. And she had made him promise it would be mild... He must've cleaned the sidearm at least 7 times. It was almost as if he was trying to wash away the fingerprints of the man that nearly killed him.
"You polish that metal too many more times and it might just fall apart!" Brock looked up at the voice talking to him. He had heard Ray approaching but figured he was just going for his own locker. He laughed a little when he looked down at the weapon in his hand and realized he could almost see his reflection in it.
"Yea I guess you're right." He admitted and set the gun down next to him.
"How's the head feeling?" Ray asked, leaning against the open doorway of Brocks's cage.
"Eh, it's fine. Not my first concussion, probably won't be my last." Brock said dismissively.
"That's only part of what I meant. You seem more rattled by this than usual. What's going on?" Ray pressed further.
"I...I don't know. I guess there's just something about being nearly killed by your open weapon, ya know? I mean… I've stared down the barrel of a gun plenty of times, this just felt… different. I don't know… sorry to keep you from training." Brock answered with a sigh, dropping his gaze to his boot laces.
"Hey, no, no apologizing for decompressing, especially after something like that. We can't expect ourselves to just grin and bear it with everything." Ray said, waiting for Brock to make eye contact with him again. When he did, Brock saw how much he meant it, and wished he knew how to express his gratitude. For getting him to talk, and for saving his life. After a nod from Ray, he knew the silent message was received. That was the beauty of the bond this team had, where they knew how each other was feeling without even using words.
"Naima heard we've got a few days off and you'll be on the dl for a few weeks, she's planning a little team cookout. Gonna let the rest of the guys know too, but Naima made me promise you'd get the first invite." Ray said as he finally made his way into his locker.
"Sounds great! Jessie's had a few recipes she's been wanting to try out and as much as I love her cooking, I'm gonna gain way too much weight while I'm hangin' around here!" Brock replied, happily changing the subject and feeling the mood change. But most of all, he was happy to have again been reminded that he will always have his brothers by his side.
