When Scarlet rushes into the office - interrupting the phone call to a contact in Iraq who might have seen Killian three weeks ago - Liam wants to fire him, tear a strip off him, and maybe knock him to the ground and beat out some of his frustrations. But before he can even rise from his seat, Will sweeps Liam's feet out from under him as surely as a rip tide.
"We've got an incoming livestream in Ops. It's your brother."
He's running before he's even aware that he's stood up. The sound of Scarlet's body colliding with the door is only secondary to the relief that is coursing through him.
Killian is okay.
Liam is already plotting the weeks of paperwork that he's going to saddle his little brother with for worrying him, already planning out the welcome home meal that he'll feed Killian after weeks and months of surviving on rations and who-knows-what mystery meat, already strategizing how to get his brother home in the quickest way possible.
He's seething a bit by the time he gets to the Operations Center, understanding that his brother probably got caught up in the chase and the mission, but pissed to bloody hell nevertheless. I'm bloody well going to kill him this time, he thinks in pure exasperation as the analyst in front of him transfers the video to the main screen. They had protocols in place for a reason, and whatever Killian's justifications were, there was no excuse for going weeks without checking in.
Whatever he was expecting to see - mostly a bruised but smirking version of Killian's face as he centered the camera - Liam doesn't get it.
What he does see as the camera comes into focus doesn't make any sense whatsoever. The room is dark and grungy, looking as if it were an underused office in a warehouse somewhere. Definitely not one of their safe houses or a seedy motel room that Killian had holed up in.
There's a flag pinned to the wall that the camera is facing and Liam thinks he recognizes it.
But that's not what captures his attention and steals his breath.
No.
No, it can't be.
Scarlet was wrong. This isn't an incoming message from his brother. This isn't...
No.
The video plays for a few minutes, two men soundly beating another until the man goes limp, falling to the floor and no longer struggling to rise. A voice calls out in another language and only then do the men stop. They haul the man up - their grip is clearly the only thing keeping him upright now - and Liam begins to realize that something is very, very wrong.
"You thought you could infiltrate our organization?" a voice calls out in a heavy accent from somewhere out of sight of the camera. Liam's heart begins to pound. "This will be your only warning not to try again. This man will be given an easy death, but if you persist, we'll send the next one back to your firm in pieces."
Liam locks his knees and grips the back of the analyst's chair to keep himself from collapsing to the ground. The hooded man is struggling to kneel on his own, the proud line of his shoulders calling to Liam in a way that he wishes it wouldn't.
Then they tear the hood away and even the sight of the gun pointed at the base of the man's skull isn't nearly as terrifying as the fear in the wide blue eyes that lock onto the camera's lens.
Killian.
His little brother's face is bruised and bloody, a gash under his eye and a split lip that - on this huge screen with its startlingly clear resolution - gapes wide and needs stitches.
The wild stare quickly shutters and turns defiant.
"No," Liam whispers in spite of himself, his voice wavering on just those two little letters. "No, please."
There are men and women around him, Liam can hear their shocked whispers and harsh breathing. He is in charge here, he can't fall apart simply because his brother is… his brother is… he can't… he…
He's barely breathing, watching as Killian spits out blood and hisses insults that Liam wants to clap him upside the head for daring to utter.
"Your only warning," the voice repeats, and then orders something in his own language.
Liam has only half a second to brace himself before the sharp retort of the gun echoes through the room. He's dimly aware of the scream that tears from his throat and the way he flinches away as blood sprays across the screen, obliterating the view.
But not the sound.
He'll never forget the sound of his brother's body hitting the floor and the chilling laughter that follows.
Half a moment more and a succinct, "He's dead," before the video cuts out.
Liam is frozen, staring at the screen as it goes black.
He can't move, he can't breathe, he can't think.
Just a few minutes ago he was joking with himself about how he was going to kill his little brother for worrying him and now… now Killian is… he's…
Liam orders the analysts to download the videos to their screens and to start combing the data for clues. He's not sure what he says after that, but he calmly walks out of the room and down the hall, shocked stares following in his wake.
It isn't until he's safely in his office, the door locked and the blinds shut tightly that Liam Jones falls to his knees and begins to sob.