A/N: Oh my god, my reviewers are ganging up on me! That's never happened before! Seriously, you guys are fantastic. I couldn't be a happier writer than I am right now. :) If I had this kind of feedback more often, I might be a little more inspired in my other fields….
"I said no, Jensen," Clay says, a slight edge to his voice.
"But it won't even take that much time," Jensen argues, "I go up, set up a link to the satellite, and - presto! - Sasha can pinpoint our exact location."
Pooch steps forward. "At risk of sounding crazy for agreeing with the crazy guy, it would be nice to be able to find the fastest, safest way out of here."
Jensen gestures toward Pooch with both hands. "There, see? That's two votes against the current let's-just-head-west-and-hope-we-don't-die plan. Anyone else?"
Clay speaks before anyone else has a chance to. "You think I like walking through hostile, unfamiliar territory without a map?"
Jensen sucks air through clenched teeth, half shrugging, "Weeeellll,,,,," he implies.
"I don't," Clay snaps. "The problem I have with your plan is that the only person who can carry it out just spent the last twenty minutes laughing uncontrollably over a joke on the inside of his gum wrapper."
"Hey, that was a funny joke," Jensen says, trying to defend himself. He looks around at the others for support. "Right? The computers eat chips! When they get hungry, they…" Aisha rolls her eyes, Pooch shakes his head, and Cougar pulls his hat down a little further. "No? Not fu – okay, so it wasn't all that funny. I had another 'fit' or whatever we want to call them; but I'm completely fine now. I'll be up and down in ten minutes, tops."
Clay grabs Jensen's arm, pulling him forward as he points up at the nearest tree. "See that branch, there?" he asks, making sure Jensen nods before continuing, "If you fall from the top of that tree, odds are you're going to hit that branch. Do you know what'll happen when you do?"
Jensen squints his eyes at it. "I would, uh, yeah, I'd probably become Jensen-kabob."
"Exactly," Clay nods, "and no one here wants to see that."
"Okay, fine. I get it," Jensen relents.
"Good," Clay responds, only able to take a few steps forward before Jensen speaks again.
"But that tree…" he says, pointing up at a different one. "Yeah, there are definitely no kabob-skewer branches up there. That is the money tree."
"Jensen," Clay starts, turning around just in time to see the techie leap up towards the lowest branch. "Dammit, Jensen, that was an order!" he yells.
"That was an order," Jensen mocks quietly, making a quick ascent up the branches.
Cougar watches for a second, then looks at Clay. "Should I go after him?" he asks.
"No," Clay sighs, "We can't risk stirring him up. Just be ready to catch him if he falls."
Concentrating on the thinner branches, Jensen continues to pull himself up, singing to himself.
"I said your love, keeps liftin' me higher," he sings, "high-igh-er-er, higher and higher. Higher!" A branch he reaches up to snaps as he pulls on it, and he quickly swings his weight back to the arm still gripping a solid hold.
"Woops, guess you aren't liftin' me any higher than this, Jackie" he mutters, situating himself so he can freely use his hands. He pulls his computer from the bag along with a small box that folds out into a mini satellite dish. Screwing a collapsible, thin metal rod onto the bottom of the satellite, he gently extends it out, feeding the dish up through the top of the tree. Satisfied that he has wedged it tightly in place, he cracks his knuckles and turns his attention to the laptop.
"All right, Sasha, I know this isn't your usual environment, but sometimes we have to work in shitty conditions to avoid being gunned down by The Man. Or, The Man's evil scientists. Or, I guess it would technically be the goons of The Man's evil scientists." He starts typing. "Now that would just be sad, being killed by the minions of the minions. That'd be like third-gen inbred hamsters. With guns." The computer chimes a few times. "Scary thought, I know, but that's the way it is in this crazy world. I'd like to tell you that you'll learn all about it when you get older, but I can't lie to ya, Sasha – I go through laptops like Batman goes through Robins. This is a dangerous line of business you've gotten yourself into."
He types in a few more keys, sits back a bit, frowns, then flicks at the metal rod a couple times. The computer dings and he goes back to work, smiling satisfactorily, then suddenly jerks his head over his shoulder. He freezes in place, listening for a second, then turns further around as he tries to scan the forest behind and below him.
"Oh, fuck," he suddenly mutters. He takes a second to secure the computer within the tighter branches before swinging down the tree as fast, but as quietly, as he can.
Pooch, leaning against the trunk of the tree, feels a twig land on his head and he looks up. "Oh shit, he's comin' down fast," he says, stepping back.
Clay and Cougar rush forward, getting ready to catch him. Jensen jumps from a high branch, going over them and rolling when he hits the ground.
"Jensen, dammit, this is why I told you-" Clay begins.
"Shut up," Jensen says, and Clay flinches back just a tad in surprise. "Sorry, I didn't mean 'shut up,' in the same sense as – ah, fuck, nevermind that. There's guys coming up on us from the north and southeast, and they're circling around. They don't have our exact coordinates, yet, but we gotta move or they're gonna have us surrounded."
"How far out are they?" Aisha asks.
"I don't, I don't know. My hearing's all," Jensen sticks a finger in his ear and wiggles it a little. "Probably farther than it sounds like, which is exactly why we have to go while we still have time."
The others look at each other, unsure.
"Guys, please trust me on this," Jensen pleads. "This isn't a Crazy Jensen moment, this is real. Like the other day when I overheard you talking from like fifty feet away? Remember that?"
Clay thinks for just another second, then steps forward, pulling a gun out of his vest. He holds it out to Jensen. "You aim this at any of us, I will shoot you in the leg, you understand?" he asks, dead serious.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Jensen mutters sarcastically, tucking the gun away.
"Can you still hear them?" Clay asks, undaunted by Jensen's tone.
He listens for a few seconds before answering. "Yeah, they're somewhere over there" – he points as he talks – "and over there, getting ready to split up and move around like this…" he continues to gesture with his arms.
"You can hear all that?" Aisha asks, looking around.
"Like a damn bat," Jensen nods.
"Okay, losers, so what do we want to do?" Clay asks, "With bat boy, here, we can approximate they're location; so do we want to run, or do we want to go get 'em?"
Cougar picks up his rifle, pushing on the slide to put a round in the chamber.
"Good answer," Clay says, smiling. "Let's take those fuckers down."
"Delta, this is Beta, do you have confirmation?" a camouflaged soldier asks into his comm.
He waits a second before the voice on the other end replies. "Affirmative, Beta, it's a clean trail. Targets are maintaining a course of due west."
"How far out?" he asks.
"Estimated five hundred meters, sir."
"Affirmative, Delta, close in from your position. Beta Team 2 and Delta Team 2, close from the north and south, we'll hit 'em from the front."
He waits to hear from each unit before signaling his own team of four men to move. They only go a few paces before the one on the far left suddenly falls to the ground.
"What the?" the man beside him gets out, and then he, too, goes down. The man on the right gets pulled into the bushes, unable to make any sound, at all.
"Delta, this is-" the team leader starts to say, but goes quiet as a gun is pressed to his neck. He glances over to see that his last remaining man is also being held at gunpoint.
"I don't think so," Aisha hisses into his ear.
Jensen and Clay walk out of the bushes, Jensen moving up to pull the comm. off the team leader's ear.
"I'll just be taking this," he smiles. Holding it up to his mouth, he does his best to mimic their captive's voice. "Delta, this is Beta. We have located one of the targets. Repeat, we have located one of the targets. Target appears to be injured." He pulls the comm. away. "Pooch, sound like you're injured."
Pooch, holding the other soldier at gunpoint, looks at Jensen, annoyed. "I am holding a hostage, here, man, what's wrong with you?"
"Just yell a little, I'll hold the comm. out," Jensen says, holding it up. To his surprise, Aisha is the one who cries out, and very convincingly. He pulls it back, mouthing a wow at her and giving her a thumbs up as he speaks. "Target may be hostile, be advised that we are moving in."
Clay claps his hands together. "All right, fellas, we can have a nice, calm conversation and you can tell us whatever we want to know, or we can put on a nice little radio show for your friends out there. What do ya say?"
"Go to hell," the team leader sneers.
Clay smiles. "I admire your loyalty. Too bad it's for a guy I wouldn't even bother spitting on if I saw his dead corpse in the street, nice as that sight would be. Aisha," he says, not breaking eye contact with the soldier, "make it sound hostile."
"Absofuckinglutely," she smiles.
Jensen holds the comm. out in front of him and takes a step back, cringing as the man starts to scream.
A/N: *note - Jackie Wilson is the singer for "Higher and Higher"