The Budapest night air was crisp and biting as McG stepped out of the taxi, his medical bag clutched tightly in his hand. He scanned the street quickly, years of training kicking in despite the urgency pounding in his chest. The safehouse was just ahead, an unassuming apartment building that blended seamlessly into the quiet neighborhood.

As he approached the entrance, McG's mind raced through possible scenarios. Jaz's symptoms, as relayed by Amir, were concerning and didn't fit any standard diagnosis. Taking a deep breath, McG pressed the buzzer for Amir and Jaz's apartment.

A moment later, Amir's voice crackled through the intercom, tense and weary. "Yes?"

"Hey, cousin," McG replied, falling into his cover story seamlessly. "Surprise visit. Mind if I come up?"

The door buzzed open without further comment. As McG climbed the stairs, he could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him. This wasn't just any patient. This was Jaz. His teammate, his friend.

Amir was waiting at the apartment door, his usual composed demeanor cracking under the strain. "Thank God you're here," he said, ushering McG inside and securing the door behind them.

The small apartment was dimly lit, the air heavy with tension. McG's eyes immediately went to the bedroom door. "How is she?"

Amir ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "Not good. She's... she's not herself."

McG nodded grimly, already moving towards the bedroom. "I need you to fill me in on everything. When did this start?"

Amir's voice was low and strained as he recounted the past month. "She's been off for weeks. I mentioned it to Top, but he dismissed it, said I was looking for problems where there weren't any."

McG's jaw clenched at this information. "What did you notice?"

"At first, it was just restless sleep, small headaches. Then she started eating less. Over the past few days, she's had dizzy spells, but she brushed them off, said the floors were uneven." Amir hesitated. "And... I could have sworn there were a few nights I heard her up vomiting, but she always denied it."

As they approached the bedroom, McG's hand paused on the doorknob. "Anything else?"

Amir's eyes were haunted. "She's been... talking in her sleep. Names I don't recognize. And sometimes... sometimes she sounds scared."

McG took a deep breath and opened the door. The sight that greeted them made both men's hearts clench.

Jaz was huddled in the corner of the room, her knees drawn up to her chest, a knife clutched tightly in her trembling hands. Tears streamed down her face as she rocked back and forth, muttering under her breath.

"Jaz?" McG called softly, taking a cautious step forward.

Her head snapped up, eyes wild and unfocused. "Stay back!" she snarled, brandishing the knife. "I won't let you hurt me again!"

McG and Amir exchanged a pained glance. Jaz was clearly trapped in a memory, reliving some past trauma.

"It's okay, Jaz," McG said, keeping his voice low and soothing. "It's us. It's McG and Amir. You're safe."

Jaz's gaze darted between them, confusion warring with fear on her face. "No... no, you can't be here. He'll hurt you too. He always hurts everyone..."

"No one's going to hurt us, Jaz," Amir said gently. "Or you. We're in Budapest, remember? In our safehouse."

For a moment, recognition flickered in Jaz's eyes. But then she shook her head violently. "Lies! It's all lies!" Her grip on the knife tightened. "You can't see them, but the scars are there. On the inside of my leg. He... he..."

McG's heart broke. He knew the scars she was talking about, had treated her injuries before. But he'd never known their origin. "I know, Jaz," he said softly. "I've seen them. But that was then. This is now. You're not there anymore."

Jaz's eyes locked onto McG's, a desperate hope warring with her fear. "McG?" she whispered.

"That's right," he nodded, taking another careful step forward. "It's me. I'm here to help you, just like always."

For a moment, it seemed like they were getting through to her. But then Jaz's face contorted in anguish. "No! It's a trick!" she cried out, suddenly turning the knife towards herself.

"Jaz, no!" Amir shouted, lunging forward.

What followed was a heart-stopping struggle. Jaz, driven by desperation and delirium, fought against the invisible threats only she could see. Her movements were erratic, fueled by adrenaline and fear. McG and Amir worked in tandem, their love for Jaz evident in every careful move they made.

"Please, Jaz," McG pleaded, narrowly avoiding the blade as it slashed through the air. "We're not here to hurt you. We're your team, your family!"

Jaz's eyes were wild, darting around the room. "You don't understand," she sobbed, her voice breaking. "They're coming for me. They're always coming for me!"

Amir managed to grab her wrist, trying to steady the knife. "No one's coming, Jaz. You're safe. We've got you."

For a moment, Jaz seemed to falter, confusion clouding her features. McG seized the opportunity, wrapping his arms around her from behind and pinning her arms to her sides. "It's okay, Jazzy," he murmured. "Let it go. Let us help you."

With a heart-wrenching cry, Jaz's fingers finally loosened on the knife. It clattered to the floor, the sound impossibly loud in the sudden silence.

As the fight drained out of her, recognition slowly dawned in Jaz's eyes. "McG? Amir?" she whispered, her voice small and broken. "What... what happened?"

Relief washed over both men. "You're okay now," McG assured her, carefully scooping her up in his arms. "Let's get you back to bed."

As he laid her gently on the bed, Jaz grabbed his hand. "It hurts," she whimpered, her admission sending chills down both men's spines. Jaz never admitted to pain. "It hurts so bad."

McG and Amir exchanged a terrified glance. "Where does it hurt, Jaz?" McG asked, already reaching for his medical bag.

"Everywhere," Jaz whispered, her eyes fluttering closed. "Inside. Like fire."

McG's mind raced. This wasn't normal. "Amir," he said urgently, "call Patricia. Now. We need to know if there's any chatter about new biological agents being tested in Europe. This isn't like anything I've seen before."

As Amir rushed to make the call, McG turned back to Jaz, his heart heavy with worry.

Across town, oblivious to the drama unfolding at the safehouse, Top and Mia crouched in the shadows outside a nondescript warehouse. The lead Mia had been so excited about had led them here, to what she claimed was a meeting place for the group responsible for the British team's murder.

"You need to focus," Mia whispered, her eyes gleaming with intensity. "Finding Hannah's killers, that's what matters now. Everything else is just noise."

Top nodded, pushing down the nagging worry about his team. Mia was right. The results here could outweigh any cost. He silenced his buzzing phone without looking at it, missing the urgent messages from Patricia.

Back at the TOC, Patricia paced anxiously. "Noah, I need answers. Now. Anything on new bioweapons, experimental drugs, anything that could explain Jaz's symptoms."

As Noah's fingers flew over the keyboard, Patricia made another call. "Preach? I need you to track down Top. He's gone dark, and we need him at that safehouse yesterday."

In the dim bedroom of the safehouse, McG worked with grim determination. "Amir, I need your help," he said, his voice tight with worry. "We need to cool her down and get some fluids in her."

Together, they carefully stripped Jaz down to her sports bra and boy shorts. McG's practiced eyes noted every detail - the pallor of her skin, the way her ribs stood out too sharply.

"Okay, let's wipe her down," McG instructed, dipping a cloth in cool water. As they worked to bring down her fever, Jaz drifted in and out of consciousness, occasionally whimpering in pain.

"Hang in there, Jaz," Amir murmured, his usually steady hands shaking slightly as he wrung out another cloth.

McG turned to his medical bag, pulling out IV supplies. "She's severely dehydrated. We need to get fluids in her, fast."

But starting the IV proved challenging. Jaz's veins, normally so prominent, had all but collapsed. McG's first attempt failed, drawing a pained whimper from Jaz.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," McG whispered, blinking back his own tears as he saw the small drops rolling down Jaz's cheeks. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "One more try, okay?"

This time, the needle found its mark. As the life-giving fluids began to flow, McG allowed himself a small moment of relief. But he knew they were far from out of the woods.

As the night deepened over Budapest, the team remained fractured. In a small apartment, two men fought desperately for their friend's life. In a shadowy alley, their leader waited for a breakthrough that might cost him everything. And in a busy operations center an ocean away, the hunt for answers intensified.

For Special Ops Team 7, the longest night of their lives was only beginning.