Author's note:The italics are what's going on on the video/in the warehouse. Regular print is the folks at the Phoenix. There's a bit of flip flopping with no visual cues, so this was the best way I could do it. Thanks for reading, chaps. Feedback welcome (and squealed over.)

Chapter 3~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

The red light clicked on next to the camera indicating that someone had opened the feed. Since that link was only shared to one place, it would only be a matter of minutes before their intended audience was watching. It was almost showtime. Within minutes the hits were growing exponentially, undoubtedly by the code monkeys at the Phoenix trying to get a location, but the same type of systems Phoenix used to prevent people seeing them were also being used by the cartel to be untraceable.

The goon squad all donned black hoods to hide from facial recognition software. If this crew were recognized, with clever deduction by the talented agents at the Phoenix, their identities could give away their location. The only face that would be seen on camera was Sancola's. He stepped into the frame of view and stopped in front of Jack, blocking him from view.

"Agent MacGyver, you've eluded capture far too long, so I've taken matters into my own hands. He walked back to where Jack was hanging limply with only the balls of his bare feet reaching the floor. "I have your guard dog." He grabbed the front of Jack's hair and yanked his head back, revealing his unmarred yet unconscious face. He gave the captive a hard slap across the cheek garnering no response, and let his head flop back down with a bounce, lolling slightly from side to side. Riley and Bozer had to look away.

"What's he gonna do?" Bozer whispered, not realizing he'd said it aloud. He knew what El Noche did to Mac, and he was afraid he was about to witness an execution of one of his closest friends.

Mac muttered quietly with hopelessness "I think they're going to torture him in front of us until I turn myself over to them."

El Noche walked out of frame as a masked assailant entered from the other side of the screen with a cattle prod. He put it to Jack's abdomen and Jack roared to life with an agonized scream. A little cattle prodding was nothing to Jack when he expected it, but he was pulled out of unconsciousness with an extended high voltage shock. He instinctively tried to pull away from the offender, but his feet couldn't get a hold on the ground to flee and his arms were shackled above his head. Jack's vision cleared once the prod was pulled away, and he noticed the camera pointed at him.

Sancola stepped back into frame, "Until you turn yourself in to me, my people will mercilessly beat your guard dog."

Jack cut him off, "do your worst, El Nacho. I can take it."

"And after we finish him, we will come for your other friends. Their blood will be on your hands."

"Don't listen to him Mac!" Jack called to the camera, "I can take it, stall 'im long enough for you to find us and take 'em out. I got this under control, hoss. Just do your thing and come find me."

"Shut up."

"I don't think you've said anything nice to me since I got here. Is this how you treat all your guests?" Jack sassed to the drug lord who responded by punching Jack in the stomach and knocking the wind out of him. He gasped and fought to catch his breath and stop himself from swinging with his feet.

Jack started to mentally prepare and psych himself out for the long day ahead. He couldn't crack knowing his kids were watching, no matter what happened he needed to remain unflappable for their sake. One of the hooded gangsters approached Jack slowly, he could see the extensive facial tattoos peeking through the eye holes of the hood, he'd gotten a good look at this guy earlier.

"Nice," Jack started, "you're sending the biggest amigo first. Not gonna send one of the smaller guys in to warm me up. Just straight to the…" he was cut off by a punch to the left side of his face. Jack shook it off immediately and continued with his taunt, "ok, I see why now, Lurch here hits like a girl. I know some fuckin badass girls, and you hit nothing like them. Hell, I know a toddler that could probably kick your ass." That comment landed a Jack another punch to the same spot.

Jack spat near his assailant, blood and a piece of a tooth hitting the ground by the guy's shoe. His tongue skimmed each of his molars in search of the broken one. He feigned delight upon discovery of the broken tooth, "oh thank goodness it was that one, that bastard has been bothering me for weeks, at least now I can get it fixed on a worker's comp claim. Remind me to get you to sign off as a witness on the first report of injury paperwork."

Bozer cringed, "why is he taunting them? For a guy who claims to have a great sense of self preservation, he sure is trying to provoke them into hurting him more."

"It's just what he does," Mac explained, "but he usually taunts them to draw attention away from me." Mac grabbed a notebook and pen and started scribbling something down. "This time he's trying to tell us something. Riley, check the gang database for a-" he stretched the vowel sound in thought as he decoded Jack's message, "Hispanic male at least 6'3" heavily tattooed and affiliated with El Noche's cartel"

Riley began her search, "Mac, that's bringing up a lot of hits, how do we narrow them down?"

"Ok, um the tattoo criteria, at least one of them is money related like dollar signs or something, one a woman or a woman's name. No, a picture of a woman...no, a tattoo of a child!"

Bozer was thoroughly confused, "Mac, I know you guys are close, like soulmate level bros, but since when have you had a telepathy thing."

"Jack is telling us all of this." Mac replied.

"No, he's taunting the guy punching him while he's chained up hanging from the ceiling."

"No. Look." Mac pointed to the screen, thankful for the opportunity to look beyond what's actually happening in front of him to distance himself from the pain of having to watch his partner be beaten instead of him. "See Jack's hands, it looks like a nervous tick, but he keeps alternating between Morse code and ASL, constantly making the letters T and A."

"T and A means something else in my book." Bozer mentioned awkwardly.

"No, t and a. Watch. T-A-T T-A-T." Mac explained, trying not to sound frustrated; Riley and Bozer both gasped at the realization. "He referred to him as amigo, so a Hispanic male. He called him Lurch, so he's at least 6'3". And a toddler that could kick his ass meant he has a tattoo of a little girl, and the insurance thing about money told us some tattoos to look for."

"You guys have a secret code?" Riley tried to repress the shock in her voice.

"Not really, but working together for so long, you pick up things about a person."

"So you could be completely off base and Jack is actually just taunting them." Bozer's voice was apprehensive.

"No," Matty decided to chime in, "he's a very skilled operative. You guys may see him as the goofy muscle of this operation most of the time, but he's not just here playing bodyguard. He's been in intelligence since you guys were in diapers. Jack is definitely sending a message."