The rhythmic thud of feet pounding against the treadmill echoed through the empty gym. At 0300 hours, most of the base was shrouded in darkness, save for the harsh fluorescent lights illuminating one determined figure. Jaz ran as if she could outpace her demons, her breaths coming in short, controlled bursts.
The door to the gym creaked open, McG stepped inside. His eyes narrowed as he spotted Jaz, her form a blur of motion in the otherwise still room. She was pale, soaked in sweat and looked like she was about to collapse. Without a word, he made his way to the treadmill beside hers and started his own grueling pace.
Minutes ticked by in silence, broken only by the sound of their synchronized footfalls and labored breathing. The door opened again, admitting Amir Al-Raisani, who took in the scene with a mixture of concern and understanding. He claimed the treadmill on Jaz's other side, falling into step with his teammates.
The three of them ran side by side, a testament to their unity even in the face of unspoken troubles.
Finally, Jaz slowed her pace, the others following suit. As they came to a stop, she braced herself against the treadmill, her knuckles white from the tight grip to steady herself.
"Jaz," McG began, his voice gentle but firm. "Whatever this is, whatever's coming, you can trust us. You're not alone."
Amir nodded in agreement. "We have your back, I would hope you'd know this by now."
Jaz's eyes, usually sharp and focused, now held a haunted look. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, her mind drifted back to the market in Syria, just days ago, where everything had changed.
One week earlier - Syria
The bustling open-air market was a riot of colors, sounds, and smells. It was meant to be a simple supply run during their downtime, a chance to stretch their legs and gather some local intel. Jaz moved through the crowd with practiced ease, her eyes constantly scanning for potential threats.
She ducked into a small shop, ostensibly to examine some local textiles, but really to get a better vantage point of the street. As she ran her fingers over a richly embroidered cloth, the bell above the door chimed, announcing new customers.
A woman entered, accompanied by a boy who looked to be in his early teens. Jaz paid them little mind at first, continuing her subtle surveillance of the area outside. But then the boy's voice cut through the ambient noise, sharp and clear.
"Mother, isn't that the girl you have a picture of at home?"
Jaz froze, her hand still on the fabric. Slowly, she turned, her eyes locking onto the woman's face. It was older, more lined than in her faded memories, but the same eyes she looked at everyday. Nadia Khan, the mother who had abandoned her so many years ago, stood just feet away.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Jaz's mind reeled, unable to process the reality before her. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, her training kicked in. Without a word, she bolted for the door, shouldering past her mother and the boy.
"Jaz!" McG's voice rang out as she burst onto the street, but she didn't stop. She ran, weaving through the crowded market, her heart pounding in her ears.
Behind her, she could hear the pounding of feet – her team in pursuit, and beyond them, the frantic calls of the woman she'd left behind. Jaz ran faster, desperate to put distance between herself and the ghosts of her past.
She rounded a corner, only to collide with a solid form. Strong arms wrapped around her, halting her flight. Jaz struggled for a moment before recognizing McG's familiar grip.
"Easy, easy," he murmured, holding her steady in his arms as Top caught up to them.
"Jaz, what's going on?" Top demanded, his eyes scanning the area for threats even as he focused on his sniper.
Before Jaz could answer, the woman and boy appeared, both breathing heavily from the chase. The woman's eyes were wide, filled with a mixture of emotions as she gazed at Jaz. But she remained silent, her gaze intense and unreadable.
McG felt Jaz tense in his arms, ready to bolt again. He tightened his hold slightly, a silent reminder of his support.
The boy, however, showed no such hesitation. He strode forward, his face contorted with contempt. "So this is the pathetic Jasmine," he sneered, looking her up and down. "You aren't much."
Top stepped between them, his posture radiating authority. "Back off, kid," he warned, his voice low and dangerous.
The boy's eyes flashed with anger. "You stupid American," he spat. "You don't know who you're dealing with."
Jaz tried to move away, but the boy lunged forward, grabbing her arm. Before anyone could react, he slapped her hard across the face. "You're going to get what you deserve," he hissed.
In an instant, the entire team was in motion. McG pulled Jaz back, his medical training kicking in as he gently tilted her face to examine the rapidly reddening mark. His eyes blazed with a mixture of concern and fury. Top grabbed the boy, forcibly separating him from Jaz. Amir, who had caught up just in time to witness the assault, positioned himself between Jaz and her mother, who stood frozen, her face a mask of conflicting emotions.
"That's enough!" Top's voice thundered through the suddenly silent street. He glared at the woman, Nadia. "Control your son, or I will."
Nadia seemed to shake herself out of her stupor. "Rami," she said, her voice trembling slightly. But she made no move to approach or comfort Jaz, her eyes darting nervously between her son and the team.
The boy, Rami, sneered. "Why should I stop? She deserves it. She's the reason—"
"Enough!" Nadia cut him off sharply, her eyes wide with fear.
Jaz, still protected behind McG, found her voice at last. "Why are you here?" she demanded, her tone cold and hard, fighting to keep her emotions in check.
Nadia took a hesitant step forward, only to be blocked by Amir. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she just stared at Jaz, her expression a mixture of sorrow and anger.
Top, still restraining a seething Rami, addressed Nadia. "Ma'am, I suggest you take your son and leave. Now."
Nadia's eyes never left Jaz's direction, but she nodded silently. As they turned to leave, Rami looked back over his shoulder, his eyes burning with hatred. "This isn't over," he promised.
The team watched in tense silence as mother and son disappeared into the crowd. Only when they were out of sight did Top turn to Jaz, his face etched with concern.
"Jaz," he began, his voice gentle but firm.
"Don't," she said, her voice tight. "Just... don't. We need to get back. We've drawn too much attention."
Top exchanged worried glances with McG and Amir. McG was still examining Jaz's face, his touch gentle but his eyes blazing with protective fury. Amir stood close, ready to offer support if needed.
"Alright," Top agreed, his mind already racing with plans and contingencies. "But this isn't over"
As they made their way back to their safe house, Top hung back slightly, observing his team. McG stayed close to Jaz, his protective instincts in full force. Amir flanked her other side, his usually calm demeanor replaced by tightly coiled tension. And Jaz... Top could see the cracks in her armor, the way she fought to hold back tears, to maintain her composure.
Top knew he needed to be the calm in this storm. He needed to lead, to find out what they were really up against, and to protect his team – especially Jaz. As they reached the safe house, he made a mental note to contact Deputy Director Patricia Campbell as soon as possible. They needed answers, and they needed them fast.
Present Day
In the gym, Jaz's teammates watched her with growing concern. The tumultuous look in her eyes spoke volumes about the pain within.
"Jaz," McG tried again, his voice soft but insistent. "Talk to us. What happened in Syria?"
Jaz shook her head, struggling to find the words. "I... I can't," she finally managed. "I don't even know where to start."
Amir stepped closer, his voice gentle. "Start at the beginning. Who were those people?"
Jaz took a deep breath, steeling herself. "The woman... she's my mother. Nadia Khan. She left when I was eight. Just packed up and disappeared one day." Her voice cracked slightly. "And the boy... I don't...I don't know."
McG's fists clenched at his sides, barely containing his anger. "But why were they there? In Syria, of all places?"
"I don't know," Jaz admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But it can't be a coincidence. The things that boy said..." She trailed off, her mind racing with possibilities, none of them good.
As the sky outside began to lighten, the three of them made their way back to the common area. Top was already there, his face grim as he pored over reports and files spread across the table.
"Top," McG called out as they entered. "We need to talk about what happened."
Top looked up, his eyes immediately locking onto Jaz. "I know," he said, his voice steady and reassuring. "We also need to talk about why half my team has joined the insomnia club but I've been in touch with Patricia. I'm waiting to hear back from her and Noah."
Just then, Preach entered, his tablet in hand. "I've got something," he announced, his face serious.
Top nodded for him to continue, feeling the tension in the room ratchet up a notch.
Preach pulled up a series of documents on the main screen. "Nadia Khan," he began, "disappeared from New York City in 1999, right around the time Jaz said she left. But she didn't just vanish into thin air. She fled the country, first documented in Azerbaijan and then ending up in Syria."
Jaz's breath caught audibly, but she remained silent, her eyes fixed on the screen.
"It turns out," Preach continued, "Nadia had connections to a group that was just starting to make waves back then. A group that would eventually become a significant player in the Syrian conflict."
"What kind of group?" Amir asked, his voice tight.
Preach's expression darkened. "The kind that deals in information. And sometimes, people. They've been linked to human trafficking, arms deals, you name it."
The implications hung heavy in the air. Top's mind raced, connecting the dots. "The boy," he said quietly. "Rami. He said Jaz was going to get what she deserved."
Preach nodded grimly. "It looks like Nadia remarried after fleeing to Syria. Her new husband is high up in the organization. And Rami... well, it seems he's being groomed to take over someday."
Jaz's voice, when she finally spoke, was barely above a whisper. "She never divorced my Father..so what does this mean? Why now?"
"That's what we need to figure out," Top said, his voice firm and laced with agitation. " Jaz, I need you to tell me everything you remember about your mother, about when she left. Even the smallest detail could be important."
As Jaz began to speak, haltingly at first but then with more surety, the team listened intently. Top made notes, his mind already formulating plans and strategies. McG moved closer to Jaz, offering silent support, while Amir and Preach continued to dig through the information they had gathered.
Hours passed, the team working tirelessly to piece together the puzzle. As night fell, exhaustion began to take its toll. Jaz, who had been running on adrenaline and caffeine for days, finally succumbed to sleep on the couch in the common area.
The guys busied themselves around her, speaking in hushed tones and continuing their research. But their protective instincts were on high alert, each of them keeping a watchful eye on their sleeping teammate.
Suddenly, Jaz began to thrash in her sleep, her face contorted in fear. "No... please... don't..." she mumbled, her voice filled with terror.
McG was at her side in an instant, gently shaking her shoulder. "Jazzy, wake up. It's just a dream."
Jaz's eyes flew open, wild and unfocused. She lashed out instinctively, her fist connecting with McG's jaw before she fully regained consciousness.
"Whoa, easy there, Rocky," McG said, managing a small smile despite the throbbing in his jaw. "You're safe. We're here."
Jaz looked around, her breathing ragged, as reality slowly sank in. The entire team had gathered around her, their faces etched with concern.
"I... I'm sorry," she stammered, her usual composure shattered. "I didn't mean to..."
"You've hit him harder than that during workouts," Top said gently, kneeling beside the couch. "We've got you, Jaz. Whatever's coming, we face it together."
As the team rallied around her, offering comfort and support, Jaz felt something inside her begin to crack. The walls she had built so carefully over the years started to crumble.
In that moment, Top knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, she was going to need every member of their team to face this. He hoped that would be enough to make them unbeatable.
Whatever Nadia Khan and her new family were planning, whatever threats they posed, it was going to change their team dynamics forever.