Content warning for this chapter: Brief speculative mention of threats of disturbing violence against a child (no such thing actually happens).
Spenser called for help.
That thought keeps rattling around inside Sonny's head. He's spent the past week barely daring to hope that their kid might still be breathing. Clay being in good enough shape to rescue his own ass and figure out a way to let his team know where he is? It seems too damn good to be true.
Apparently Mandy thinks the same thing, because after Bravo has geared up and received a quick briefing on the terrain and situation they're headed into, she turns to Jason, takes a deep breath, and says, "We have to consider the possibility that this is a trap."
For a moment, no one responds. Then Sonny says, very pleasantly, "Exactly what're you suggestin' there, Mandy?"
Ray's hand lands on his arm, an unspoken warning. Sonny shrugs it off.
Ellis doesn't bother even looking at Sonny. She keeps her gaze fixed on Hayes. "Eight days, Jason," she says softly.
Hayes shakes his head, jaw set. "No. Spenser wouldn't. No matter what they did to him-"
"And if they brought in a child and threatened to rape her to death in front of him if he didn't cooperate?" Mandy asks bluntly.
Jason goes pale. "Jesus, Mandy."
She sighs, closes her eyes, opens them again. "I don't want to believe it any more than you do, okay? But it isn't so simple as 'he would never.' Everyone has a breaking point. Everyone. You know that."
He looks away, then back. Nods. "Point taken. But we're going anyway, and you know that."
She returns his nod. "I do. But while you're en route, my people and I are going to analyze that conversation. If Clay made the call under duress, I believe he would have tried to come up with a way to communicate that. To warn us."
"Fair enough. You find something, let us know. Otherwise, we're going to get our boy."
At that, Mandy gives them all a hint of a smile. "I know. Stay safe. Bring him home."
"We'll do our best," Ray promises, clapping her on the shoulder briefly before moving on. Sonny can't bring himself to talk to her. He knows she feels bad about how they lost Spenser, has seen the circles under her eyes and the guilt shadowing her every move, but he can't forgive her yet. Especially not after what she just said.
Maybe once they have Clay back. Maybe then.
Much as they all want to hear their kid's voice, there wasn't time for them to listen to the recording of the conversation. Spenser made it clear that he's still in danger, likely being pursued into the mountains, so they need to get their asses in the air and to him ASAP. They can figure out how he's doing once they find him.
Mandy pinpointed the location of the call, but Clay will have moved by the time they get there. Which means they need Cerberus. Which means they need Brock.
He immediately made it clear that he's good to go. Trent made a face but then nodded reluctantly, so that's that: five members of Bravo, plus a hair missile, are going to bring their sixth man home.
The helo sets down in the flat, empty desert on the other side of the hills from the compound. The stretch of steep terrain in which Clay is hopefully safely hidden isn't big as far as acreage goes, but it's jagged as hell, littered with caves and outcrops, peaks and gullies.
Mandy wasn't able to get real-time ISR on such short notice. They'll have to find Clay, and avoid getting shot by his pursuers, the old-fashioned way.
Ellis doesn't pass along any warnings of impending ambush, so the team heads out. With the desert morning now well past, the sun is scorching, sending up ripples of heat waves that distort the horizon.
They move as quickly and quietly as possible, using the vantage points offered by higher terrain to check ahead, make sure they don't run into any surprises.
As expected, they're not the only ones out looking for Spenser. The tangos are moving in pairs, searching in what looks to be a fairly random pattern. If at all possible, Bravo needs to avoid contact. It would be easy enough to take out any of the individual pairs, or even a couple of them, but having the whole hornet's nest converge on their position would not be ideal.
They're hoping they'll run across Spenser's trail so Cerberus can lead them straight to him. For the first hour, that doesn't happen.
Hot and thirsty, they take a break on a sheltered slope to drink water and scout the terrain ahead. Brock is already starting to look a little pale, but when Trent checks in with him, he insists he's fine.
Peering through his scope, Ray reports quietly, "Got another tango to the..." He cuts off. "Hold on."
Sonny's heart pounds. "Is it him?"
Ray lets out a breath. "Local clothing. Can't make out the face. But he's alone and moving like he's hurt." He glances up at Jason. "Could be."
Sonny looks. The man on the other side of the scope has his back turned, headed away from them. He stumbles, goes down to a knee, pushes himself up and staggers on.
"That's him," Sonny says.
Jason gives him a searching look. "You sure?"
"That's Clay. We got to get to him." Sonny can't quite keep the desperation out of his voice, because they're so close but they don't have him yet. He isn't safe yet.
Hayes hesitates. Sonny figures he's remembering Mandy's warning, wondering if they're being baited, but after a second, he nods. "Okay. Let's get our boy."
Leaving the high ground means losing sight of their target. Turns out that's fine, because the dog almost immediately picks up Clay's scent.
Cerberus takes off, claws scrabbling in the sand and loose gravel. The hope that grips Sonny's heart is almost painful, because if Cerb has the scent, then it really is Clay.
It's the yelling that lets them know they didn't get to Spenser first.
They round a ridge of broken stone to see Clay fighting like a man possessed against the two tangos who are trying to pin his arms to his sides.
He manages to pull a knife from somewhere, goes after one of them with it, only to drop it when his wrist gets twisted back. One of the men backhands him and he goes down hard.
An instant later, so does the tango, with a bullet in his head.
Cerberus takes a flying leap into the other one, whom Sonny casually shoots as soon as the dog is clear.
Ears ringing in the sudden silence, Sonny says, "Clay? You good?"
Nothing. Spenser doesn't move.
Brock catches hold of Cerb's harness and pulls him back. The dog whines, trembling with eagerness to check his boy, but obeys. Sonny, staying out of the way so Trent can work, knows the feeling.
Trent kicks the knife out of Spenser's reach, then crouches beside him. "Clay? Hey, buddy, you okay?"
He reaches out to check Clay's pulse, then scrambles back, barely getting his arm up in time to block the hands going for his throat. "Clay! Clay, it's me!"
"Spenser, stand down!" Jason lunges forward to grab Clay by the shoulders, dragging him off the teammate he's attempting to strangle.
The commanding tone finally seems to get through. Spenser stops fighting and collapses back into Jason's grip, face pale beneath all the dirt and bruises, breathing raspy. "Jace?" He whispers.
"Yeah, kid, it's me. You're okay. We've got you. You're safe."
Clay wheezes, grabbing at Jason's sleeve with his right hand while tucking his left arm tight against his ribs. He squeezes his eyes shut. Tears cut trails through the dust caked on his cheeks.
Those tears hit Sonny like a punch to the solar plexus. Like any of them, Spenser doesn't like showing weakness. Sonny has never actually seen him cry before.
Cautiously, Trent kneels in front of his patient. "You with me now, Clay?"
Spenser nods, gasping in another rusty-hinge breath. "Yeah. Sorry."
"No worries. How bad are you hurt? Can you move?"
"'M okay. Yeah. With help."
Trent's face says he doesn't buy the 'okay' claim any more than Sonny does, but their first priority is getting the hell out of here. If Spenser is ambulatory and reasonably stable, that'll have to be good enough for now.
Sonny steps forward to help Clay to his feet and slide an arm around his shoulders, ignoring the stench of old sweat and blood. The kid is trembling violently and feels lighter than he should. It's wrong. He's only been gone just over a week.
A lot can happen in a week.
Soon as Jason turns loose of him, Clay transfers his grip to Sonny's arm, clinging tight. Up close, heat radiates off Spenser's skin, and his breathing sounds even worse; ragged with a deep, crackly rattle on each exhale. Over Clay's shoulder, Trent catches Sonny's gaze and shakes his head a little, face grim.
Sonny's heart sinks into his gut.
Focus, dammit, he tells himself. Sooner we get him out of here, the sooner he can be in a hospital gettin' his lungs fixed.
Sonny glances down at the hand clinging to his arm, which is when he realizes several of Clay's fingers are broken and he doesn't have any fingernails left, and also coincidentally when Sonny realizes he desperately needs to commit more violence. Right now.
Even more than that, though, he needs for Clay to be safe, so he stows the anger and hauls the kid away, toward the helo that's waiting for them on the other side of the hills.
Through a combination of skill and luck, they manage to avoid contact with any more tangos on the way out. About halfway there, Clay's eyes roll back in his head and he drops. Sonny carries him the rest of the way - while trying not to breathe through his nose, because the kid reeks.
The brutal heat gets to Brock, too. He ends up leaning on Trent and needing help to climb up into the helo when they reach it.
They put Spenser on the floor, prop his feet up while Jason yells to the pilot to go. They're high off the ground by the time Trent leans down to lay a wet cloth across Clay's neck, and things immediately go to hell.
Spenser explodes into motion, kneeing Trent in the chest and then scrambling backward.
Toward the open door and the empty space beyond.
Sonny lunges, manages to snag a fistful of Clay's shirt, and hauls him forward, locking his arms around the kid's torso. Spenser fights, gasping for air, yelling something in French. His skin is hot enough to fry an egg.
He's not strong enough to break free, but he's gonna hurt himself more if he doesn't stop.
"Clay, calm down," Sonny says loudly. "Clay, it's me. It's Sonny. Come on, brother. Please."
He can't even bring himself to be ashamed of the way his voice breaks on that last word.
Spenser quiets and gradually stops struggling, though Sonny can't tell whether it's because he's realized he's safe or because he just doesn't have the energy to fight anymore.
Trent taps Sonny on the shoulder, gets him to shift to the side so that he can have better access to his patient, but Sonny doesn't turn loose of Clay until they land at the base and the medical team whisks the kid away.
Once it's over, once Clay is safe and receiving treatment and not there to hang onto anymore, Sonny looks down at his shaking hands and breathes, "Jesus Christ."
What the hell did they do to him?