"Mac. Yo, Mac, c'mon, bud," Jack tried for the second time to get Mac moving.

Once again, all Mac managed was, "Mmmm."

Jack shook Mac by the shoulder firmly. "Kid, I got called into work early. If you want a ride in to grab your Jeep, I'm on the road in five."

Mac rolled over and pulled the blanket sort of over his head, but also kind of wadded it up under his arm, looking, to Jack's amusement, much younger than his twenty-three years. "Mmmm. Later … I'll call … cab."

Jack frowned. Mac was kind of an up at the sun guy, and they'd crashed kind of early. It had been such a rough couple of months. He wasn't all that big a worry wart (despite many testimonials to the contrary from people he'd served with), but Mac had a particularly tough go lately.

"You okay kid?"

"Mmmm. Stayed up too late. Played Madden. Beat the Cowboys … Super Bowl," he smiled sleepily but didn't open his eyes.

"Little shit," Jack chuckled. "Like the Chargers are ever gonna beat my boys."

"Maybe I'll beat 'em again. It was easy," he teased sleepily, turning his face back into his pillow. "Don't have to work," he said, gesturing at his phone, so Jack assumed Don had texted Mac.

"Keep it up, kid, and I'll dump you in your pool, I swear. That oughta wake you up and teach you to have some manners about the greatest team to ever grace the gridiron," Jack teased back.

Mac mumbled something, but was mostly back asleep.

Jack made sure the blankets he'd used to crash on the couch were neatly folded, then he headed out to DXS. Staying up too late playing Xbox was just so normal. Jack thought maybe the kid was really settling in to his life.

When Patty first suggested Mac might be a good fit for DXS, he thought she'd meant Applied Sciences. Since the events of the warehouse and how eager she'd been to bring him into the fold, he thought maybe that had been the goal all along. Seeing Mac just being a regular twenty-something made Jack think maybe his young friend was better off saving classic cars than trying to save the world.

0-0-0

When Mac finally rolled out of bed he was stiff from having been idle for so long. He didn't even pause long enough to really eat breakfast … lunch … whatever. He pulled on his running gear, downed a cup of room temperature coffee out of Jack's morning pot, that was, as usual, barely touched, chugged a water, and headed out the door for a run to shake the cobwebs out, grateful Don had called him off last night and he could just relax a little today.

It was rare that he spared himself the luxury of a real "day off", even now that his job was much lower pressure. Mac realized he could maybe get a little intense about things. Jack and Boze had been going out of their way to get him to back up, slow down, smell the roses, or whatever old man terms either of his parentally inclined best friends tried to couch it in.

He thought they'd both approve of his approach to today. He looped around the neighborhood on his way home and bought a bagel with an obscene amount of cream cheese on it, along with a properly hot coffee to make up for the tepid one he'd had before his run.

He'd finished both by the time he got back to his house. On his way to the shower he grabbed his phone off the charging station so he could listen to music while he let the hot water diminish the last of his video game and sleeping in induced stiffness. Immediately he noticed a text from Jack. He expected it to be Jack checking up on him. But it wasn't.

Stay away from X-Com today

Huh. Weird.

Mac smirked and texted back. Still pissed that I thrashed Dallas?

He turned on Spotify, cranked the volume on his phone, and took a much longer shower than he usually allowed himself; water conservation be damned.

After he got dressed and was contemplating going back out for another bagel it occurred to him to check his phone to see if Jack responded to his ribbing.

There were several texts.

Forget what I said earlier.

You should come in.

At least come have lunch.

Jack's texting game was getting weirder and weirder, Mac thought. Instead of texting back, this time Mac thumbed the call icon. It rang repeatedly and Mac was getting ready to leave a voicemail when Jack finally answered.

"Hey, kid."

Mac frowned. Jack's voice sounded oddly cool.

"Hey. What's up? I just saw all your texts - stay away nevermind come visit. Figured I'd call so I could tell you to make up your damn mind," he said lightly.

"Crazy day," Jack said stiffly.

Mac's frown deepened. "Why am I on speaker, Jack?"

"Oh, I'm a little tied up at the moment, kid."

Mac had known Jack to get in some strange moods from time to time, but this was a little beyond his usual. Something was up. "Then I guess I'll make up your mind for you. I wanna go surfing this afternoon so I'm gonna get an Über and come get the Jeep."

"No!" Jack said sharply and then Mac heard a distinct hiss, definitely a pained sort of sound.

"So you don't want to grab lunch then?" he asked carefully.

There was a long pause, so long Mac actually pulled his phone away to check if he'd dropped the call. Then he heard another muffled gasping sound. "Nah, kid, you're better off where you are," Jack bit out, then groaned more audibly this time.

"What's going on, Jack?" Mac asked, thinking not for the first time that Jack might be right about spidey senses because all of his were tingling.

There was more silence, followed by what sounded like muffled scuffling. Then Mac very distinctly heard Jack growl, "Go to hell."

Mac felt cold all over by then. "Jack. Jack!"

The voice that came out of the phone next wasn't Jack's, but it was familiar. "Hey there, Hollywood. Jack's busy at the moment. But I'm absolutely sure he'd love to see you here. I know I would."

"Let him go, O'Neill," Mac ordered, sounding much more level than he felt.

"You and I both know that's not gonna happen. I owe you both for screwing up my operation. And I showed up here ready to pay you in full."

Mac was pretty grateful they hadn't just shown up at his house. He wondered why but decided to not look a gift horse in the mouth. "What is it you want from me?"

"For starters? To get your ass down here to whatever this place you work really is, cuz I've disarmed too many guys with guns to buy what it says on the sign outside."

"Then what?" he asked, mouth dry.

"We'll see. Might have use for you. But if you don't come we'll never know. And your buddy here will pay the price all by his lonesome."

A strangled cry in the background made Mac's whole body tense. "I'm on my way."

He ended the call, not sure if he should have let O'Neill be the one to feo it or not. Negotiating with Terrorists 101 wasn't exactly part of MITs curriculum.

As far as what he actually needed to do to have a chance at getting anyone out of this alive? He was pretty sure of his next steps.

He used an app to summon a ride since his bike currently lacked an engine because he was rebuilding it. Then he got his phone back out and dialed.

"Hey, man, sorry to bother you. But I need a favor."