Chapter 33

Stretching from the alarm rang through all of Clay's senses as he still lay there with Liz wrapped in his arms. He refused to get up, move on with his day, and head onto base. Why should he when he is so comfy? This is where he needed to be; he finally accepted his reality. He got Liz. He was happy.

"Come on, lazy; time to get up. You got to get going and meet your team." Liz cooed in his ear as her lips grazed his beard, and her hand looped in his tangled curls at the side of his face. Her other hand skimmed over his chest, leaving a stinging feeling along his skin and finally landed on his shoulder, giving a tight squeeze.

Every part of his body she touched soon lit a fire, sending a burning pain through his skin into his muscle and bone. Pain overtook all his senses as he squeezed his eyes shut and let out a soft whimper.

"Clay! WAKE UP!"

"Please, you need to get up... for me." Her whisper filled his ear as she seemed to get farther away.

Clay popped his eyes open, and the only thing he found in front of him was green. His soft bed quickly turned into dirt, leaves and tree roots as he winced back into reality. Clay hoped he would open his eyes again and see Liz back in his arms, leaning over him. Back in his haven.

No luck. Of course not; why would he finally have something go his way? He was doomed since birth, having Ash in his life, and today would be no different. Karma and his unlucky horseshoe would most certainly see to that.

As Clay lay there, he felt something warm against his cheek. And it was growing. Slowly reaching up, he could feel a thick sticky sensation along his temple disappearing into his thick hairline, and with a wince, following the trail of blood, he finally found the source. Oh right. He hit his head earlier. Concussion. That would explain a lot as to why he can not focus. Everything for him was choppy, blurry, and could not seem to stick around. His memories were fuzzy, and randomly his brain decided it was fun to send him jolts of images. Images of him somewhere in a wooded area, water, mud, blood and a random face of a man with stone-cold eyes staring him down as he raised a fist. What is going on?

A faint rustling and shouting shot him out of his daze as he stayed there, trying to assess his body. Tracking each injury and radiating pain area, he tried to recall instances that led to each hole, bruise, cut and bump. Coming up mostly short, he could still determine the severity of each injury, and although his chest was still bleeding profusely, his vision always seemed to revisit his shin. He knew there was something he needed to remember about the wrapped skin and painfully hot skin surrounding the area. A small drip of sweat trickled down his forehead as he felt his hair stick to his face, followed by another and another. Damn, it was hot in here. But why is he shivering, cold and clammy?

Another shout shot his eyes up as he tried to scan the area. Was his team here to help him? It's about time; based on how thirsty and hungry he was, it must have been separated from them for a while. They would never leave him behind. No matter how much Trent threatened each mission, he ended up with a scrape, bruise, break or bullet hole. Jason, Liz and Sonny would never let that happen. They enjoyed watching their normally calm and calculated medic shake his head and go into a whirlwind of furry treating the one and only accident-prone Clay Spenser.

Clay tried to sit upright, and a low groan creeped out his firmly pressed lips. He was unsure what was going on, but his instincts told him he needed to stay quiet and get up. Get back to safety, even if he was not sure where that was right now, but his feet seemed to have an idea as he finally managed to get fully on them and take one step.

Soon that faint shouting became a muffled tone as his head filled up with a fevered fire and dizzy orientation from his concussion. But as he blinked the darkness away that surrounded his vision, he looked down and was met with a pair of black boots that seemed frozen in place facing him. As Clay's eyes entirely focused, he travelled up and was met with black pants and a tucked-in black long-sleeve. Oddly familiar to the ones he was wearing. His team! Finally! His eyes shot up, eager to see the friendly face of his brother and the image they were met with made his heartbeat falter as he furrowed his brows and focused on the barrel of a gun pointed at him with a sly grin behind it.

Fuck.

Didn't he have enough bullet holes in his body already? They were still bleeding, so not a secret. He did not need anymore, but the irony behind this image caused him to shake his head. He was used to being on the other side of the gun barrel.

….

Seven sets of eyes landed on Blackburn as they stared him down, waiting for answers, and one dog let out a small yip trying to be involved in the team's circle as they gathered around the table.

"I don't have too much info here as I am almost as much in the dark as the rest of you. But I guess the Mongolians were not too pleased with our entrance into their hospitable command, and word got back to a General, and he took that as his opening. I believe this is the General that sends us after the Russian as a favour, more so for the benefit of his knowledge. Reading between the lines, we were the stepping stone to get what he wanted to move up, and once we accomplished this, we were not supposed to return. They took me to the back before I could pass what I heard to Davis to warn you guys. The surprise you all came across along the cliff was no surprise for some." Blackburn rambled as he tried to collect his thoughts again in order as he ended up taking a few to the head when he was detained. They claimed he was not cooperating, but it's funny how a fist can meet a standstill head sitting on firm, collective shoulders that did nothing but comply with being thrust into a chair. Multiple times… It looks like Blackburn has taken some of Liz and Clay's Karma for always having Bravo's back. They needed to take back the Karma jar; he was not wanting to keep his hand dipped in there like a greedy child looking for the last cookie. No, thank you. "I'm sorry I don't have more. I don't know what to make of this but I have called Lindell back to try and get some answers."

"Well, looks like we are taking a play from Clay's book, being used to gain some rings on the cake-eating ladder." Sonny huffed as he rolled his eyes.

"So now, on top of getting our boy back, we need to walk on eggshells around the command. We don't know who has their hand dipped into the Generals pocket." Ray shook his head as he looked towards a tight-lipped Jason.

"So, what's the plan? It has been too long, and we are bringing the kid back. We have no idea the status he is in, and I am worried things may turn for the worse with the weather. The rain has stopped, but things are wet and cold. We all know how much of a danger magnet he is. I'm sure he propels all military troops, wildlife, bugs and weather towards him." Trent huffed as he started to make a mental list of things he would need to back in his med bag and a few items he may take a leisurely walk to try and scoop up around the base. Cerb had to go out to pee and stretch his legs, right? Knowing Brock would jump at his heels to get out, Trent eyed the others to get into motion.

"Have any ideas what we may be up against?" Jason squared his jaw, knowing he was not a fan of the answer that may come next.

"Well, seeing him get shot if he's alive.."Trent started.

"He IS alive." Liz cut him off with fire.

"Sorry." Trent bowed his head. He knew Clay was the most stubborn bastard he knew, and with that, he would not die easily. He was too stubborn even to let death come knocking on his door, let alone into his house. He knew Liz needed this win, and he needed to believe it as well. Still, the logical medic in him won moments before and blurted out facts as someone getting shot who knows how many times, falling into a cliff, hitting who knows what, and then making it out of the water and not drowning was very low on the plausible scale. And if they did manage to create miracles, then the fever from the dirty water would surely take him. But then again, Clay was always against all odds. Well, some odds. If there were a danger, he was at high odds he would find it, but if it was to do with anything that would take him away from his family, those odds of dying were near zero. Again stubbornness always won. "When we find him alive, as that man is like a cockroach, he will be very low on blood, running a high fever, and that can always lead to sepsis and more than likely, he has a concussion from the fall and who knows what else is broken from whatever his body managed to hit. Then there is also the fact of where he got shot in the torso. What organs may be damaged and where his breathing maybe can be a huge factor. So, in short, we need to find him yesterday."

"So, in other words, what you are saying, is it's just a normal Monday for Peter Pan." Sonny let out a low whistle before huffed out a breathy laugh trying to see any plausible scenario; they may find him wandering around the border with only a mild concussion, and some bruised ribs as the bullets all hit his vest.

"Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. We all know he does not do things easy, and it's go big or go home for him." Brock piped in as he walked over to Cerb and looked around the room for his lead. He had an inclining he knew Trent's plan as soon as he zoned out and let out a few whispered mumbles while he went into his zone and created a mental inventory. Well, the mind reading and the fact that he heard Trent mumble a few words like gauze, oxygen and blood bags.

"What? You say that like it's a bad thing? Not our fault you're all old and can't handle a three-day party. Go big or go home is our daily motto." Liz laughed as she tried to get out of her zone and relax to help devise a plan. She and Sonny would know his actions and directions best as they have lived in his head for a year now. At his point, she ate, slept and breathed Clay. Ok, maybe not entirely, as he could still be a closed book with some subjects like his childhood, but when it came to strategy and survival, she aced her course in Clay. Hell, she took the same course, and they seemed to be co-writers in that textbook, working together so well. Two minds into one; maybe that was why they were such a good team and always sought after by other teams. The Wonder Twins never let anyone down.

"Ok, Trent, you get what you need; Davis, you and Blackburn need to see what you can get from our support team still in TOC. Let's get to studying everything we have here and devise a plan. I am not leaving here without the kid, and we need to get to him with no support, in total darkness and back before anyone knows we have left these barracks." Bravo 1 was back in action. Jason was pushed to the side. "Let's move. I want this all done in an hour and suited up in two. We got to get out and back before nightfall to be on the plane and out of here at 21:00 hrs, and we have no idea where his delirious ass may be."

"This will not be easy." Ray chimed in but started to gather a few maps to begin studying. He always liked a challenge. And time started now.