Jaz and McG hurried along the alley, hastening towards the spot where everything had gone to shit.
Not wanting to look at gift horse in the mouth the team had thrown together the mission plan in record time. Quickly executing it before the deputy director had any time to change her mind.
Although she honestly hadn't put up too much resistance.
Jaz suspected that deep down the director had wanted to have an excuse to send them back in, and had been happy to be able to justify it with Amir's idea.
She had barely put up a fight, greenlighting Amir's proposal after only a few minor changes. Those changes, being wired and having Preach nearby for backup, had made Amir scowl. He'd started to argue that it was unnecessary, but with a little prompting in the form of a well aimed kick to the shins, he'd gotten the hint and plastered on an entirely unconvincingly fake smile and "happily" agreed.
McG kept hissing at her to slow down from behind, but she was a women on a mission. Her training instructors probably would have torn a strip off her for the speed at which she was clearing corners. Top likely would have as well. But she was confident that she was taking adequate care to ensure they went undetected and arrived safely… probably.
It didn't help that her attention was split listening to Amir hold court in her ear. Before her and McG set off she had anxiously listened to him make contact with the cell leaders, crafting an elaborate tale about how he had escaped from Paris, journeyed southbound into Spain and crossed into North Africa by sea. He claimed to have been laying low for several months in this area, but now that the fight had come to his doorstep he was offering his services.
They had lapped it up.
Apparently his infamous escape off the bridge had put him over the top as some sort of terrorist folk hero. She honestly had been expecting someone to ask for his autograph with the way they were gushing about his adventures. So it had been child's play for Amir to plant the seed of doubt about an incoming attack. He casually mentioned being aware of an American team that was operating in the region, acting surprised at the confirmation that the cell had already made contact with them. Then he had faked concern, hoping that the American's hadn't been able to get a call for aid to their reinforcements he knew were located a few miles due south.
The terrorists were thoroughly proud of themselves when "they" came up with the idea to pull troops from the north and eastern sectors to reinforce the southern borders. Jaz had smirked, remembering Amir in Mongolia earnestly explaining his preferred tactic to Top. The best way to manipulate people is to nudge them to act of their own accord. The terrorists had no clue they were being nudged off a ledge.
In a matter of moments, Noah and Hannah confirmed sufficient troop movement had occurred to allow McG and Jaz to begin the recovery mission.
Rescue mission. Jaz was calling it a rescue mission until it wasn't.
As they walked she could still hear Amir creating conversation in her ear piece. Probably gaining valuable intel as he stalled for time. Another perk of this mission that had likely helped get it cleared. She no longer spared the attention to keep up with translating it. Just letting the general tone reassure her that it was working, they were buying it, he was safe.
Both too soon, and far too late, they approached their target. Her feet slowed of their own accord and McG had to slam on the brakes to avoid crashing into her. He looked past her and his mouth hardened into a grim line.
There was so much blood.
With his eyes closed, Top could have been sleeping if it weren't for that one very obvious red tell. He lay exactly where he had fallen. Where they had left him. The entire side of his head and shoulder were barely recognizable underneath the dark congealed fluid that pooled out onto the concrete around him and would surely leave a nice stain for the property owner.
Jaz's breath caught at the sight. Her stomach twisted in physical pain. Maybe it would have been better not to have seen this. Maybe it wouldn't have been such a bad thing to live in denial a little bit longer.
That finality she wanted, it was overrated. It hurt.
McG squeezed her shoulder gently before moving past her down the stairs into the shallow landing below to kneel beside Dalton.
He laid a hand gently on Adam's shoulder, grief making his movements slower than normal, almost reverent. He gently tugged at a limp arm, bringing Dalton off his side to lay flat on his back. With a sigh he reached out towards his neck, hand trembling almost imperceptibly. Jaz had seen him take a pulse hundreds of times in his life, fingers quick and assured. The way he hesitated, it was clear this time he didn't want the answer.
Suddenly he stiffened, head shooting up to look at her as all the colour drained from his face.
He scrambled, pulling off his bag and wrenching it open. Digging madly through he pulled out gauze and hastily began wrapping it around Adam's head.
"McG?!"
He didn't answer her, too consumed with what he was doing.
But he didn't have to. You didn't wrap a wound for a dead man.
"Holy shit, he's alive"
She didn't realize she'd spoken the words out loud until voices in her ear started buzzing furiously. Preach and the DIA demanding to know what was happening.
Relief made her dizzy, and sitting down seemed like a good idea at that exact moment.
He was alive.
McG leaned over and listened to his breathing.
"Jaz, get me the vent kit"... She heard him, and nodded slowly. It seemed like a good idea, alive people needed oxygen.
"Jaz, I need your help here" the increased urgency in his voice finally forced her into action.
She managed to rise on shaky legs and stumbled to his side. Digging through the pack numbly she found protein bars, and ammo and everything but the bloody vent kit.
Where the fuck was it.
"Bottom left."
McG spat out the direction around a mouthful of unopened gauze packs, obviously impatient with her struggles.
Aha. There it was. Her fingers closed on the hard casing in the bottom corner exactly as described.
He paused his wrapping, quickly plucking the kit from her hand and threading the tube down the unconscious man's throat with ease. McG handed her the pump with a quick, "here take that" but then paused for a second, apparently unsure if she was up for the task.
"1,2 squeeze.. I've got it McG." She tried to sound convincing.
He didn't look entirely reassured, but after watching her hold the steady rhythm for a second he went back to wrapping.
The demands for information in their ear reached a more frenzied pitch and McG finally answered them.
"Yes, he's alive, barely…...No, I have no idea how. There's too much blood to see where the bullets gone or what kind of damage it's done. So don't go planning any celebrations yet,
McG's cautious voice was speaking to the team in his ear, but his eyes stayed locked on Jaz. The warning not to get her hopes up was plain as day.
He pulled open the final pack of gauze as he explained the situation.
"Just finishing packing it. Amir and Preach you guys are going to have to come to us instead. I don't want to move him more than strictly necessary. I have no idea what kind of structural damage we are talking about here. Command how close can we get our helo?"
Jaz zoned out, only half listening as her team worked out the logistics. She didn't want to think about the fact that the could lose him again on the way back. Or that even if they managed to get him back they still might not actually get him back. Instead she focused on squeezing the balloon.
1,2 squeeze….
1,2 squeeze….
Focusing on the task kept the overwhelming feelings at bay. Relief, panic, despair, worry, there would be time for all of that later. It was one of the first things she learned in the military. How to compartmentalize and stay connected to the task at hand no matter what.
Every task had a rhythm, a pattern to tune into. With her rifle she had it down to an exact science, each precise moment and sensation prior to a shot was always the same. She never got rattled no matter how desperate the shot, how big the target, because it was just her and the same routine, feeling the same sensations for the thousandth time. The solid bracing of the stock against her shoulder, the familiar feel of metal indenting her right cheek, the same way the trigger sat lightly under her curled pointer finger, and the way her brow furrowed and her right eye squinted just so as the target aligned with the scope.
Then all there was left to do was pull.
Just like all she had to do right now was keep squeezing.
To stay completely focused on the feel of the plastic bubble in her hands, the exact amount of force needed to deliver a full breath, the hiss of the air rushing through the tube, the slight rise of his chest with each squeeze.
1,2 squeeze….
1,2 squeeze….
She vaguely heard Amir making up an excuse to leave the terrorists right before a large explosion rocked the skyline in the distance.
That she paid attention to for a second, taking satisfaction in watching the large plume of fire and smoke that meant that Top's shooter was probably dead. She also couldn't help but be impressed with how big an explosive force come from Amir's shoes, "accidentally" left behind. Apparently there was a good reason you had to take your shoes off to go through airport security these days. You could pack quite a lot of explosives in one pair. Especially if your name was Preach.
1,2 squeeze….
1,2 squeeze….
Tires squealing nearby broke her rhythm. She looked up long enough to assess the threat. As soon as she recognized Preach driving the car her hand released her gun and returned quickly to the plastic.
1,2 squeeze….
1,2 squeeze….
It became a little trickier as they moved him into the car. Even harder to maintain the rhythm as the car weaved through the streets to the newly designated LZ. McG offered to take over in the car, and again in the helicopter, but she shook him off wordlessly each time. He took one look at her and apparently knew better than to argue.
She wasn't just keeping him alive, she was keeping herself sane
1,2 squeeze….
1,2 squeeze….
So when they finally reached the hospital and she had to relinquish her task to someone else she lost it.
She was probably fortunate that her team knew her better than she knew herself. Preach's strong arms pulled her away from doing something stupid for the second time in as many days.
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Waiting was agony.
Absolute agony.
Amir was probably better at it than the average person. He understood the long game, the need to wait and let things develop at their own pace.
None of that applied to this situation. He was very much as impatient as the next person when it came to someone he cared about.
Each day brought small pieces of news.
First they learned Dalton had a hard head and unbelievable luck. The man should probably buy some lottery tickets, having turned his head at exactly the right moment so that the bullet hit at the exactly the perfect angle, skimming more than puncturing. His skull was spectacularly fractured, they'd seen the X-ray, but the bullet hadn't penetrated further.
In fact, when he had been lurking in the hallways near where the doctors met to discuss things, purely coincidentally of course, he had actually heard one of the specialized neurologists mutter under his breath "I don't fucking believe it" after reviewing Adam's x-rays and scans. Given the length of time he had been without treatment and the severity of the impact to his skull it was apparently a miracle that he wasn't brain dead, or just plain dead dead.
He had been lucky in that respect, but the bullets force had still done it's damage. He remained in an induced coma, intracranial pressure off the charts. Shunts were bringing it down bit by bit, but nowhere near fast enough or definitively enough for anyone's comfort level. And there were no clear answers about what would be left when it did finally lower.
So they waited.
And waited.
Dalton was always an overachiever. He blew the record out of the water for the longest coma by one of their team members. Preach had previously held the record at 5 days.
By the time Dalton hit a week, Jaz was a wreck.
They forced her to eat, they forced her to try to sleep, but she still barely functioned. She subsisted on one word answers, 20 minute cat naps and horrendous hospital coffee, long past the point that was healthy for anyone.
Finally just before he hit the 2 week mark Top's stats had improved enough that they weaned him off the heavy drugs that kept him in a coma.
It was great news, until nothing changed.
He breathed on his own, his brain activity was promising, but his eyes never opened. And still they waited and the days continued counting.
He was hardly surprised when he neared Top's room and saw her sitting there. He was supposed to be relieving Preach and McG, but she rarely left, even when it wasn't her shift. He crossed the threshold into the room, watching sadly as his movement had her lifting her head out of her hands. Her eyes automatically searching the still frame on the bed in front of her in vain, hoping it was the source.
Instead Amir sat delicately in the chair next to her. Giving her a small nod in greeting.
She sighed, and visibly deflated in disappointment. He would have been offended but he understood the reaction. He would rather see Dalton move too.
"Where are Preach and McG?"
She tore her eyes away from Adam in order to roll them at him "McG hadn't eaten anything in like 2 hours. You know how he gets, the world was about to end. Preach took him to get a snack"
"Yes, I am well acquainted with Hungry Joseph", he laughed.
It was comforting to have her sound more like herself again. Her sarcasm dearly welcomed after so many days of eerie silence and minimal responses that had been reminiscent of his first few weeks with the team. Except he hadn't been the only target this time, she had frozen out the whole team from whatever dark place she had been in.
They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, until he noticed her shifting next to him. She seemed to be working herself up to say something, mouth opening and closing several times as the right words escaped her. He stared straight ahead, watching the numbers on the monitors, watching Adam's chest rise and fall, looking anywhere but directly at her, allowing her to take her time.
Just when he was about to reconsider his strategy and try to coax whatever it was out of her she finally spoke.
"Thank you… for believing me. Thank you for doing what you did"
He considered her and quirked a smile, "Oh, I didn't believe you. I thought you were bat shit crazy… I just didn't care"
He watched her sort through all sorts of emotions caused by his glib response. She looked like she didn't know exactly what to say back to that, finally just giving him a sheepish smile and raising an eyebrow at his word choice
"Bat shit crazy huh?"
He laughed slightly, holding up his hands in gesture of peace
"McG's words not mine, don't shoot the messenger…...Although if the shoe fits… Oww!"
He rubbed his shoulder only somewhat in jest, she had put some good force behind her punch. Another hopeful sign that she was turning the corner.
They fell silent, and he sobered slightly, his mind continuing to think about what he had just said. The phrasing and the sentiment behind it reminded him strongly of Hussein's words to him in the van in Iran, before they had started out on an improbable rescue mission of their own. "Oh I'm not arguing with you, I'm just stating a fact…. I love madness"
He hadn't really understood it before. Why the man had been so willing to go along with their plan when clearly he thought it was nuts. But in that moment, when Jaz had pleaded with him to believe her, when he had felt the overwhelming devastation and despair that her denial was masking, he had finally understood what Hussein had meant. That the man had known the risks, embraced the madness and was willing to do whatever it took, including sacrificing his life, all so that his longtime friend would stop hurting.
Amir got it now. He'd been willing to do the same.
Jaz apparently wasn't done thinking either, frowning slightly as she turned somethng over in her mind. Unwilling to let it go that easily she probed further "but you gave up your cover?"
That was true. There was no way someone didn't survive who could link Khedani to that bombing. People would know Khedani had been there and someone would be smart enough to start connecting the dots. He could never trust that cover again.
But he had known that going in. Had accepted it as the price to be paid and was long over it. In fact it was almost freeing to have some closure to that part of his life.
He shrugged, "Like I said before, if I can save one person with it, it's worth it" repeating what he had told her on the train that day. It felt like forever ago. They'd come so far since then, building a friendship and then something stronger. She was the little sister he'd never gotten a chance to know as an adult. The one who would have teased him and encouraged him, challenged him and inspired him.
She looked sadly at the figure on the bed who still hadn't so much as twitched a finger in weeks... "I hope it's worth it."
She yawned and settled back in her chair. He hardly dared to move as her breathing evened out and her head began to nod. It slowly tilted down, inching lower and lower until it came to rest on his shoulder.
She hadn't understood what he meant, but it didn't really matter.
Maybe one day he would explain that he hadn't done it for Dalton. He certainly would have if he'd known the man was alive, but he hadn't been lying about not believing her. Finding the man still breathing had been a very welcome surprise, but hadn't been the driving force behind his actions.
There was just something about a girl in trouble, that still pushed his buttons. It probably always would.
But he had been determined to save this one.
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Jaz woke with a start, eyes going straight to the bed, only to be disappointed again. She hadn't thought she had any hopes left to dash. But there they were sinking again.
Instead she saw McG and Preach at the doorway watching her with amuesement. She lifted her head, realizing belatedly that she was using Amir's arm as a pillow.
"Careful Amir, she drools." Of course McG couldn't let the hallmark worthy moment go without some sort of jibe. In all honestly she probably got of lightly because he was just happy to see her sleeping. Maybe it would postpone her getting yet another lecture about how she needed to get some rest for at least a couple more hours. Small price to pay.
She stood up to stretch, body complaining about spending too many hours in this very plastic, very unergonomic hospital chair. She really missed her comfy recliner back at the base. Her eyes automatically scanned the vitals on the monitor, way too well acquainted with Top's cardiac rhythms and blood pressure fluctuations.
She turned back around just in time to watch McG park his large butt in her chair and prop his feet up on the bed with an exaggerated sigh of contentment.
He smirked at her "snooze you lose Jazzie."
Amir swatted at his legs half heartedly from where he sat, "That's just cruel, Top can't defend himself against the your biohazardous foot odor right now"
Preach snorted "Actually Amir, I think your feet are the more lethal ones these days"
McG crowed victoriously, "That's true, just ask that terrorist cell. Oh wait. We can't.… Might be your best one yet Preach"
Jaz wasn't sure if he was referencing Preach's joke or the bomb, but either way the medic apparently felt it deserved a high five. McG reached out, stretching his heavy bodyweight over the chair's armrest to span the distance to the other man. His chair tipped precariously and Jaz couldn't resist. She leaned across the bed and gave his feet a hard shove off their perch. Without that anchor point, his chair lurched dangerously and he flailed hard the opposite way, overcompensating and bringing the chair back down again with a hard slam.
Jaz snickered but then had to bite her lip to keep from full on laughing when a nurse poked her head in the door and surveyed the room, looking for the source of the noise. McG tried to put on his best innocent expression but she still zeroed in on the culprit and stared suspiciously at him for several long seconds.
She gave them all one last stern look and then left the room. The team was silent for a second, but then burst out in raucous laughter. There was no way the departing nurse didn't hear them but they didn't care, having had precious little to laugh about the last couple weeks. Preach, and Amir continued chortling, imitating McG's flailing, mocking his "innocent" expression, even McG joined in laughing at his own expense.
All except Jaz.
Jaz was frozen, unable to find words. Staring down at the thin slit of familiar bluey grey eyes that were finally open on the bed below her.
McG was the first to notice her reaction. Shooting out of his chair to join her standing by the bed, sobering quickly into his medic mode.
"Adam?
"You awake?"
McG's gentle prompts didn't get a response. Several long seconds later his eyes drifted shut again and another few seconds later there was a low groan.
"Top...can you hear me?
He said it a little more firmly this time and Adam's eyes flickered open again to half mast.
There was no hint of recognition, just another unintelligible groan before heavy lids closed again.
McG reached behind the bedframe and flipped a switch, dimming the lights in the room. He pulled the call button paging the doctor while he was at it.
"Alright, that should be better, try again Adam" he encouraged.
Eyes fluttered open more comfortably, staying open longer but still not focusing on the medic or anyone else in the room.
Jaz was pretty sure she had forgotten how to breathe.
"Can you tell me your name?"
There was no response and she exchanged a worried glance with Amir and Preach.
McG didn't seem alarmed through continuing to talk reassuringly, "That's okay, give it a minute for things to start making sense again. Lets go a little easier here" He picked up one of Top's hands. "Can you squeeze my hand?"
All eyes were glued to his fingers and they collectively exhaled when they saw a slight twitch. Weak as a kitten, barely classified as a squeeze, but it was a defined movement nonetheless.
"Thats it… And the other one… Great"
Smiles all around.
"Do you know where you are?"
No response.
"How are you feeling?"
His eyes slid shut again and stayed shut.
Jaz sunk into the closest chair, thoroughly discouraged, her stomach churning with disappointment. She knew she should be happy he was awake but all of the worst case scenarios they had been warned about suddenly seemed much more possible. What if he couldn't talk? What if he didn't know them? What if he was just a shell of himself?
Then, low and quiet he mumbled something, barely more than a whisper.
McG leaned in closer, "what was that Top?"
Adam murmured it again, just loud enough to be heard in the silent room "Headache"
It was the most glorious word she had ever heard.
McG huffed a laugh, giving a relieved smile that was matched 3 times over "I'll bet you do. I'll bet you do…"
The tension in Adam's face slowly smoothed out as he drifted back off to sleep.
Amir's shoulder found her's with a friendly bump. "Remind me never to doubt your gut again."
She laughed, wiping a few errant happy tears off her cheeks. "Remind me to dig my pink helmet out for Top. We can paint it camo, but he is wearing it every mission from now on."
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That's all she wrote. Thanks for reading :) Hope everyone enjoyed it.
Would love to hear your feedback before the next one takes off. I have the start of a McG story brewing in my mind.