Chapter 6: The Rescue
"I swear to God, I can't sit here for another day with my thumb up my ass!" Sonny paced the length of their temporary quarters, running his hands aggressively through his hair. "This is fucking ridiculous! We should be out there."
Ever the voice of reason, Trent looked at him sympathetically from the couch. "I think we can all agree on that, Son. But what we can't do is rush into a heavily fortified compound without a serious plan. We're no use to them if we all get captured or killed."
"Stop being so rational!" Sonny scowled at him and continued his angry pacing, causing Trent to sigh. Jason wasn't doing much better, sitting in the armchair with his leg bouncing restlessly. It had been five days since they had lost their teammates. Five days of anxiously waiting for news on whether their friends were still alive, whether they were finally going to be given the okay to go in for a rescue attempt.
Five days of hell.
The remaining members of Bravo team had been virtually inconsolable. Not even Lisa was able to talk them off the ledge of anger they stood balanced on. No, the only thing that would right their mood would be to go kick some doors and get their friends back.
Zaman had reached out to negotiate on day two, asking for wild demands and the release of many prisoners that the United States government would never agree to. Jason was assured that negotiations took time, that this was a good start. But he failed to see how this long, drawn-out process was going to get his guys back.
Multiple phones went off simultaneously, and the team exchanged looks at what this might mean. Confirming the order on the screen said to report to the command center, they took off running as fast as their feet would take them, completely unconcerned with decorum in their current state of mind.
The team burst through the doors less than a minute after the text was received, surprising no one already present in the room. Davis and Blackburn were waiting for them, both looking positive.
"What do we have?" Jason asked, trying not to let the hope seep through in his tone. This had to be good news. He didn't know what he would do if it wasn't.
Lisa smiled encouragingly from her position at the head of the table. "We may have an opportunity. We're running it up the ladder now." She pointed to the aerial surveillance image on the screen behind her. "This was taken twenty minutes ago. A sizable force left Zaman's compound in a hurry."
"Going where?" Clay asked, brows furrowed in confusion. Zaman would know they were after him. He wouldn't send half of his army out on a mission for just anything.
"Unknown. They headed southwest towards the Iranian border, but we can't be sure of their target destination."
"Is this Zaman's planned trip?" Trent asked as he rubbed a hand across his jaw, trying not to get too excited about the window they had been waiting for.
Blackburn shrugged a shoulder, eyes on the information spread out across the table. "We don't think so. The intel suggested that would be later in the week, and we don't think he'd venture out with such a large target on his back."
"What the hell is out that way?" came the question from Sonny. "All I've seen is dirt and more dirt that close to the border. And why go out at night?"
"Both excellent questions," Davis replied. "We really can't guess where they're going. They seem geared up for a fight, so potentially they're expecting to meet an enemy force at the border and hope the dark will provide them cover. Whatever it is, it gives us a narrow window to get in and get out of the compound. The plan is to send you, Charlie, and Delta in to find our friends and potentially locate Zaman. Intel would suggest he hasn't left, so this could be our chance to grab him. And if we can confirm none of his civilian family was traveling with the convoy, we could potentially get the green light for an airstrike on them before they get back."
"This sounds too easy," Clay said, only half-joking.
"Well, the tricky part is the timing." Blackburn sighed, hating to knock the wind from their sails even a little. "We can't predict how long they'll be gone. The border is only an hour away, so they could potentially be back by midnight. That means we need to move as soon as we get the green light from command, which should be any minute." He turned to Ray, already knowing he was wasting his breath. "You know I have to ask, are you good to be in the field?"
Ray was already nodding his head, the look on his face leaving no room for argument. "No way am I sitting this one out, Commander."
After staring at him for a second, Blackburn nodded. "This will be quick and dirty, gentlemen. You know I hate going into an op with little intel and no plan, but we just don't have the time."
"We'll figure it out on the helios," Jason replied, already running through scenarios in his head.
"Then gear up, fellas. You should be wheels up in thirty."
Full Metal and Brock sat in a heavy silence.
They had brought him back a few hours ago, and Brock had promptly asked what had gone down, eyeing the bloody bandage on his shoulder wearily. Metal supplied a very brief summary that lacked any detail, ending with the fact that Feiyaz was still alive for the time being. He left out the fact that she had told Zaman… something. As his anger cooled, his head cleared and allowed him to view things a bit more objectively. Without understanding a word of the Pashto that had fallen from her mouth, he could only hope her asking for his trust meant she had some kind of plan.
Brock was starting to fade, his skin pale and clammy. Metal was also slowly losing blood from the hole in his shoulder, the makeshift bandage not doing much to stop it.
They were running out of time.
Sounds of gunfire echoed softly into the room, and the two started, eyes locking as they silently conversed with each other. They waited with bated breath, trying not to get their hopes up.
Several minutes passed as random spurts of gunfire got closer and closer. Sounds of a scuffle and a single shot were suddenly loud in the hallway outside their door. There were muffled voices then the jingle of keys as the lock began to turn. The door swung open with a bang, revealing three Navy SEALs with guns at the ready.
"Clear," Jason shouted, quickly scanning the room for hostiles. "Three, door." Sonny set up a defensive position as commanded, keeping an eye on the hall for any incoming enemy. Jason let out a relieved sigh at the sight of his missing team members. "I sure am glad to see you two."
"Likewise," came Brock's soft wheeze in response.
Trent switched to medic mode and approached Full Metal, crouching down and immediately turning a concerned gaze to the poorly-bandaged shoulder.
"I'm fine," Metal said before Trent could ask any questions.
"You don't look fine," came the reply as quick hands performed cursory checks of the injuries visible to him. "Concussion? Blood loss? Anything life or death I need to put a band-aid on?"
"I'm fine." The tough glare Metal tried to give him was lessened by the eye that was swollen almost completely shut.
Trent sighed but didn't waste his breath and instead moved over to Brock. Jason used the ring of keys they'd found on the wall outside to begin unshackling Metal.
"What about you, Five?" Trent asked, visually taking in the damage.
"I'm definitely not fine," Brock croaked, feeling no need for bravado when he knew he looked as bad as he felt. "Broken arm is the worst of it. If you can strap it to my chest, I can probably walk out of here with a little help."
Trent pulled a roll of bandage and a packaged syringe from his kit to comply with the request. "Would half a dose of morphine help too?"
A relieved grin broke out on the younger man's face. "If you insist."
With the immediate medical situation under control, Jason felt like he could ask. "Seven?" He let the question linger in the air, not wanting to voice the possibility that they were too late for her.
"Took her a while ago," Brock replied with a hiss as Trent secured his injured arm. "Never brought her back."
Jason hummed under his breath, turning the key in the final lock to set Metal free from his bonds. He tossed the ring to Trent, who set to work on the shackles attached to Brock's ankles, as they hadn't bothered with his wrists once his arm was broken.
"Are we at the compound?" Metal asked, a bit slow to get to his feet as his body made its painful injuries known. At Jason's affirmative, he continued his question. "How the fuck did you get in here? Did you bring half the damn Navy?"
"And then some," was Trent's distracted reply as he got Brock untangled from the metal chain.
"We were hoping you could tell us what happened," Jason said to Metal, hands on his hips. "Two hours ago, a sizeable group left here and headed south to an unknown location. Any ideas where they're headed?"
Metal shook his head immediately, not having overheard anything that might help. "They weren't very-" he paused as something dawned on him, a guilty sigh escaping his lips before he could stop it. "Damn." Jason raised his brows expectantly when he didn't get an immediate response. "Seven caved when they threatened to kill me, or at least I thought she had. When I asked her what she'd said to them, she just told me to trust her."
Jason picked up on the defeat in his voice. "And you weren't sure you could." Metal didn't respond, the hard mask slipping back onto his face. "So she sent them on a wild goose chase assuming if enough of them left, we'd get the green light to come in."
"Beauty and brains," Sonny chimed in from the door. "I knew I liked that girl for a reason."
Ignoring the comment, Jason laid out the rest of the mission for the two newcomers. "This is a three-part plan. Part one was the rescue. Part two, if we can confirm the families are still here, TOC will execute an airstrike on the enemy convoy to put a serious dent in Zaman's soldier count. Part three, we assume Zaman is still here. Capturing him alive would be the icing on this shitpile cake."
"Agreed," Metal grunted angrily. "So give me a gun and let's go crush some skulls."
"Woah there, big guy." The Master Chief held out a hand placatingly. "You two are in no shape to fight. Charlie and Delta teams will find him. We need to get you guys to the exfil choppers before Five here passes out or one of the injuries you're not telling us about gets worse."
"I'm-"
"Fine," Jason mocked with an eye roll. "Yeah, we heard you."
"What about Seven?" Brock more-or-less mumbled as the morphine began to do its job. "We gotta find her."
Jason and Trent had a silent conversation that ended with the medic softly shaking his head. They couldn't risk getting caught up in a gunfight with two team members who had injuries unknown. Making the call that would hopefully appease both sides, Jason replied, "We'll take a different route back to the helios to look for her. If we don't find her, one of the other teams will. Four, you're with Five. Three, you take point. I'll bring up the back."
Trent handed his rifle over to Metal with a nod of his head. "You might want this." Metal grinned and accepted it, leaving Trent to help Brock up from the floor. He wrapped the man's uninjured arm around his shoulder for support as they moved out of the cell.
"Turn right," Metal said as they made their way down the hall and approached a branch. Sonny complied and immediately took out two tangos at the end of it, keeping the team on high alert. Metal again gave Sonny directions to divert his course.
"Wanna tell me where we're headed there, Iron Giant?" the Texan asked curiously.
"The room they tortured us in is just up ahead," he said with no emotion. "They might have her there."
They encountered minimal resistance as they came upon the door to the large room they'd taken turns visiting over the last several days. Sonny posted up down the hall slightly to cover their front while Trent left Brock leaning against the wall and got his sidearm at the ready on their six.
Grabbing the door handle, Jason nodded to Metal and pushed the door open, gun at the ready as he entered with the big man just behind him. The large room was void of any tangos and Jason was quick to yell, "Clear!" followed by, "Four, get in here!"
Sonny kept watch at the door as Trent helped Brock into the safety of the room, leaving him to sit on a crate before turning to face the latest disaster.
Hanging from her wrists was a naked and unconscious Feiyaz.
Or maybe not unconscious, maybe dead.
Trent swore under his breath and approached her carefully, reaching out to feel for a pulse and nearly crying out in relief when he found one. "She's alive, but this is way beyond my skills." He took in the various bleeding wounds, the bruises indicating probable internal damage. "There's nothing I can do until we get her to a helo."
"Then let's get her down and move out," Jason demanded angrily, trying to control his emotions and focus on the mission.
"I got her," Metal said lowly, handing Trent's gun back to him.
"Your shoul-" the medic's interruption was met with a glare.
"I said I got her." Alpha One moved forward and scooped the woman's legs under one arm before wrapping the other around her shoulders to lift her from the hook she dangled from. With uncharacteristic gentleness, he shifted her body in his hold to cradle it against his chest.
"Here." Brock was standing now, a discarded linen tunic in his outstretched hand. Grabbing it from the injured man, Trent did his best to wrap it around Feiyaz's body and tuck it into place.
"Let's go," Jason said, allowing his Bravo One mask to slip into place so he didn't have to deal with his rising anger. "Sonny, stay on point. Quickest route to the helos. Move."
Author's note: Hopefully this makes up for Yaz's actions in the last chapter. Let me know what you guys think, you're awfully quiet so I can't tell if you're liking it!