Author's Note: The summary doesn't make it super clear, so for the record, this is the OC's story first and foremost. The boys definitely have a big part, but I don't want someone coming here for a proper team story and getting a surprise.

Let me know what you think of this one. Sorry that it's so short but I should have another chapter up this weekend.

Chapter 3: The Captives

"What do we know?" Jason yelled as he stormed into the command center on base, holding a wad of gauze pads to his bleeding head.

"Christ, Hayes," Blackburn replied at seeing the man's disheveled state. "Go get patched up. I'll send for you when we have an update."

"What do we know?" Bravo One asked again more forcefully, his glare daring anyone to send him from the room.

With a sigh, Blackburn motioned Davis over for intel. "Good news and bad news. Good news, we think they're alive. Bad news, Zaman's men grabbed them before they could get out of there." She pulled up aerial footage of the area. "ISR shows them pulling three bodies from the rubble. One is actively moving, we think it's Brock. The other two weren't, but since they took them as well, we can assume they were still alive."

"Where'd they take them?" he asked expectantly, not liking the slow pace of the conversation.

Blackburn and Davis shared a look before she answered. "Zaman's compound."

With a curse, Jason put his hands on his hips as he spun in a circle at the news. No way was Command going to greenlight an op to go in there, even to rescue three of their own. Blackburn answered the question before he could even ask.

"We've been told to hold until more information can be made available. They have denied our requests to send a rescue team into the compound."

"Then what the hell do we need to do, Blackburn?" Jason asked loudly, trying to figure out how he was going to get his team home. "What info do they want other than there are three Navy soldiers being held captive right now?!"

"Hayes," Blackburn said with a tone of warning as he leveled the man with a patient stare. "You know I'm on your side with this. I'm doing everything I can to get the okay from Command. Right now, there are too many enemy combatants in that compound for us to risk more lives."

Davis shifted her weight, earning herself a spot under Jason's glare. "We're hoping Zaman will still move forward with his planned trip out of the compound. If he takes enough of his army with him, we may be able to convince Command to take the opportunity."

"That's a week from now!" he replied angrily, not understanding why they weren't reacting in the same fashion. "Besides, no way in hell he leaves knowing we're on the warpath for him. He'll never take the chance!"

"They have time, Jason." Her tone was understanding and showed frustration with the situation, but it did little to appease Bravo One. "Zaman won't kill valuable assets. He'll likely reach out to negotiate soon."

Jason rolled his eyes skyward, hands waving wildly. "Great, so they only have to get tortured in the meantime. Besides, you and I both know Feiyaz isn't getting out of there on a trade. They will kill her. So unless the Navy is admitting to being okay with leaving one of their own to die, we need to figure something out!"

"That's enough, Master Chief!" Blackburn barked with authority, leveling his hotheaded team leader with a glare. "Your emotions are not an excuse for disrespect. You will report to the medical center to get checked over and we will update you when we know more." Jason opened his mouth to speak but was quickly cut off. "You are dismissed."

The two stared at each other for several tense moments where Davis wasn't positive that Jason would back down despite the direct order. He finally did, and she let out a breath as he angrily stalked from the room.

"We need to find something for Command," Blackburn said, voice back to a normal level as he stared after the man. "Anything. And find it fast."

Davis nodded determinedly and headed back to her station to do her thing.

Outside, Jason stalked across the base fuming, his obvious anger sending grunts and officers alike out of his path. He was furious at being told to sit on his ass while three of his own were being subjected to God knows what kind of violence and torture. They couldn't even be positive they were all alive. He needed to get the rest of his team out there hunting these bastards down.

He slammed his way into the medical center, eyeing the sole member of his team sitting in the waiting area. Trent was the only one to escape the carnage without much of an injury. He adjusted the ice pack on his shoulder and stood when he saw Bravo One.

"Any update on our team?" he asked as Jason approached, only to receive a shake of the head.

"Just the usual 'we're working on it' bullshit." Jason sighed, hands going to his hips again. "What about the guys? Everyone whole?"

"Yeah, more or less. Sonny has a couple of cracked ribs, Clay will have a limp for a while, and Ray got pretty banged up in the crash, but he'll live." Trent motioned to the still-bleeding head wound. "You're gonna need some stitches in that."

Jason dabbed at the wound with the bloody gauze in his hand. "I need to be out there looking for them," he said quietly, a layer of guilt laced into his words.

"Hey, this isn't on you, Boss," Trent replied sincerely, laying a hand on the taller man's shoulder comfortingly. "Nobody saw that shit coming."

"I should have, that's my job. I'm supposed to catch these things to keep my team out of situations like this." He sighed in frustration and defeat, feeling like he had failed his guys when they needed him most.

"Jay, it's no one's fault." The medic gave him a sympathetic look. They were all blaming themselves for what had happened, all wishing their brothers and temporary teammate were safely back on base. "We'll get them. Metal and Brock are tough and have been trained for this. They know what to do, and they'll help Feiyaz get through it until we can figure out a rescue. We will get them back."

Nodding reluctantly, Jason let out a breath as he wiped a hand over his face. "Yeah, I just hope we get to them in time."

"Let's fix what we can right now and get you looked at," Trent said, physically directing the team leader toward the triage desk. "C'mon."

Feiyaz woke with a groan, confusion clouding her thoughts as she tried to remember why everything hurt. Her head throbbed incessantly, her ribs were on fire despite her shallow breathing, and what was that weird pain in her hip?

"Easy, Bravo Seven," came Brock's soft voice off to her right. "Take it slow."

That didn't help clarify what was going on at all. She opened her eyes and raised a hand to her aching head. Or at least, she tried to raise her hand and instead found that her wrists were shackled to a chain attached to the floor next to her.

That got her attention.

Her eyes flew around the space as she pushed herself into a sitting position gingerly. Brock and Full Metal were sitting opposite her in the small concrete room, similarly shackled and looking about as rough as she felt. She took note of the lack of windows and the large metal door to her left. Looking down at herself, she confirmed she had been stripped of her tactical gear, outer shirt, and boots, just as the boys had.

"What the fuck?" left her mouth without much thought, the fuzziness in her brain still preventing her from connecting the dots. "What happened?"

"We got blown up," Brock replied, leaning forward as much as he could to close some of the space between them. "RPG, you and Alpha got hit pretty hard. I was coming to when they grabbed us. How you feeling?"

Feiyaz made a face, impatiently pulling at the chains on her wrists in an attempt to get free. "Like I got blown up, Five." She was at least coherent enough to catch on to the fact that he was intentionally not using their names.

"We've tried that already," Full Metal replied gruffly, his head leaning back against the concrete behind him almost casually.

She sighed, slumping back against the wall in resignation. "You guys okay?"

"One popped his dislocated shoulder back in, but his leg is pretty messed up." She looked at the blood-stained fabric on Metal's right leg and grimaced. "I'm okay except for the cut on my head that won't quit bleeding." He motioned to the wound that had left a streak of red down the side of his face. "You?"

Feiyaz shook her head slowly and closed her eyes at the wave of dizziness that took over her. "Concussion for sure, my head is swimming. Probably a couple cracked ribs, hurts to breathe."

"It's about to get a whole lot worse for us."

She glared over at the older man, though he couldn't see it with his eyes closed. "Thanks for that comforting thought," she replied sarcastically.

Brock also sent a look at Metal for the thoughtless comment. While Feiyaz had completed the standard Navy training, she hadn't been through the intense SERE required of the SEALs. They would need to be as encouraging and supportive as they could to help get her through this. He turned his attention back to their strap.

"Bravo is coming for us," he said, his voice firm but kind. "We just have to hold out until then. I'm not gonna lie and say this will be easy, but you'll get through. We all will." Feiyaz nodded resolutely, though Brock could see the tension in her eyes. "They're not looking to kill us. We're way too valuable as bargaining chips, yeah? They'll put on a show, make themselves look tough, probably kick the shit out of us. But then they'll want to negotiate, and they can't do that if we're dead."

She appreciated the enthusiastic pep talk, and it did help, for the most part. But she knew her role in this hostage situation was much different. This was her country, these were her people - they weren't going to go easy on one of their own that had become a traitor in their eyes. But if Brock and Metal made it out alive while Zaman's men were focused on her, she would consider that a good outcome.

Not wanting to spoil Brock's positive mindset, she simply nodded her head in agreement. He continued, oblivious to her inner turmoil.

"Think of the friends and family back home you'll see again when this is all over. Think of your favorite foods, your favorite places, hell, even your favorite books. Whatever it takes to distract yourself from what's happening."

Realizing his misstep from earlier, Metal chimed in as well. "Stay calm, remember your training, and keep breathing." She looked over at him, surprised by the encouragement and by the fact that his eyes were open and staring straight at her. The steely gaze held no signs of fear, and Feiyaz took that as added courage.

And so they sat, waiting for the unknown.