The steady beep of the heart monitor filled thedimlylit hospital room. Jaz lay motionless, her face pale against the stark white sheets. McG sat beside her, his eyes fixed on the vitals display, a deep furrow etched between his brows.
"Come on, Jaz," he muttered, more to himself than to his unconscious teammate. "You've got to stabilize."
The door opened quietly, and Top stepped in. "Any change?" he asked, his voice low.
McG shook his head, frustration evident in every line of his body. "Her BP's all over the place. She's fighting, but..." He trailed off, running a hand through his hair.
Top placed a reassuring hand on McG's shoulder. "She's tough. She'll pull through."
"Yeah," McG agreed, but the worry in his eyes belied his words.
The team had been taking shifts, ensuring that Jaz was never left alone. They all knew the dangers weren't over yet, not with Nadia still out there.
Suddenly, Jaz's face contorted in her sleep, her breathing becoming rapid and shallow. The monitors began to beep erratically, their urgent sounds filling the room.
"What's happening?" Top demanded, moving closer to the bed.
McG's hands flew over the equipment, his eyes darting between Jaz and the monitors. "She's having some kind of nightmare or flashback. Her heart rate and blood pressure are spiking."
In Jaz's mind, she was no longer in the hospital. She was a little girl again, cowering under a table as the sounds of shattering glass and her father's enraged shouts filled the air.
"You worthless piece of trash!" her father roared, his words slurring together. "She left because of you! Because you're not worth staying for!"
Little Jaz curled into herself, trying to make herself as small as possible. Tears streamed down her face as she watched her father's feet stumble around the room, kicking aside broken furniture and glass.
"Come out, you little bitch!" he screamed, and suddenly the table was thrown aside. Jaz screamed as her father's hand closed around her hair, dragging her across the floor strewn with broken glass.
"Please, Daddy, no!" she sobbed, but her pleas fell on deaf ears as he hauled her towards the door.
In the hospital room, silent tears rolled down Jaz's cheeks. Her body trembled, and the monitors continued their frantic beeping.
"Jaz, it's okay," McG said urgently, taking her hand. "You're safe. It's just a dream."
Top moved to her other side, his voice low and steady. "We're here, Jaz. You're not alone."
With a gasp, Jaz's eyes flew open. For a moment, she stared wildly around the room, disoriented and panicked. Then her gaze locked onto McG, and reality seemed to rush back in.
"Easy, easy," McG soothed as Jaz tried to sit up, her hands scrabbling at the wires and tubes attached to her. "You're okay. You're in the hospital."
"I... I was..." Jaz gasped, her voice hoarse.
"It was just a nightmare," Top said gently. "You're safe now."
Gradually, Jaz's breathing steadied, and the monitors returned to their normal rhythms. She sank back against the pillows, exhaustion etched in every line of her face.
"Do you want to talk about it?" McG asked softly.
Jaz shook her head, turning her face away. The team exchanged worried glances, knowing that the road to recovery would be long and difficult.
Amir appeared in the doorway, his face grim. "Top, Patricia's on the line. Says it's urgent." With a last glance at Jaz, Top followed Amir out into the hallway. He put the phone on speaker as Preach joined them. "What've you got for us, Patricia?" Top asked, his voice tight. Patricia's voice crackled through the speaker. "We've got a location on Nadia. She's operating out of Adana." The team exchanged glances. Adana wasn't far – less than a four-hour drive. "That close?" Preach murmured. "She's still hoping to get her hands on Jaz," Patricia confirmed. Top's jaw clenched. "Not gonna happen." From inside the room, they heard McG's voice rise in frustration. "Why now? Why is this happening now if she's been watching Jaz for years, even before us?" There was a pause on the line, and when Patricia spoke again, her voice was hesitant. "Because... she owes a lot of money to some very dangerous people. Dealers with ties to Russia and various terrorist groups." The team fell silent, the implications sinking in. Patricia continued, her voice heavy. "She offered Jaz up as payment. An American woman who's also a special ops sniper... she goes for a lot of money. And Nadia finally found the highest bidder." "Jesus," Amir breathed. Inside the room, the heart monitor's beeping increased, and McG called out, "Guys, get in here!" They rushed back into the room to find Jaz stirring restlessly, her face contorted in pain. The monitors showed her vitals spiking erratically. "Jaz, Jaz, it's okay," McG soothed, trying to calm her. "You're safe. We're here." Top moved to her other side, taking her hand. "We've got you, Jaz. You're okay." Slowly, her vitals began to stabilize, but the team's worry only increased. "Top," Patricia's voice came through the forgotten phone, "we need to end this." "Agreed," Top said grimly. "What's the plan?" There was another pause. "We have one, but... you're not going to like it." Top's eyes narrowed. "Patricia..." "We need to use Jaz as bait." The reaction was immediate. Top's "Absolutely not" overlapped with McG's vehement "No way in hell." "Hear me out," Patricia insisted. "We leak information that Jaz is being released early. That she'll be in the city with you. We set up a controlled scenario where Nadia can make her move, and we take her down." "Have you lost your mind?" McG exploded, his voice rising despite his efforts to keep quiet. "Look at her! She can barely stay conscious, let alone defend herself if this goes sideways!" "McG," Top warned, but the medic was too worked up to stop. "No, Top! This is insane. We can't risk her like this. There has to be another way." "I need this over with." The weak voice from the bed silenced them all. Jaz's eyes were open, glazed with pain but determined. "Jaz," Top began, but she cut him off. "No, Top. I can't... I can't keep living like this. Looking over my shoulder, wondering when she'll strike next." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of years of pain. "I need it to end." The team exchanged worried glances. They knew that look in Jaz's eyes – she wouldn't be dissuaded. Top sighed heavily. "Alright, Patricia. What's the full plan?" As Patricia laid out the details, the team's unease grew. It was risky, with too many variables, too many things that could go wrong. But they also knew it might be their best shot at ending this nightmare once and for all. The next 48 hours were a flurry of preparation. Jaz insisted on being as involved as possible, despite McG's protests that she needed to rest. They went over the plan countless times, refining every detail. Finally, the day arrived. Jaz was officially "discharged," wheeled out of the hospital by McG. The rest of the team surrounded them, all on high alert as they made their way to the waiting SUVs. As they pulled away from the hospital, the tension in the vehicles was palpable. Jaz sat in the back of one SUV with McG, her face pale but determined.
Top drove, with Amir in the passenger seat. Preach followed in the second SUV with a team of operatives posing as additional security. They were about ten minutes into their drive when it happened. A vehicle slammed into the back of Jaz and McG's SUV, the impact sending them lurching forward. Before Top could react, another car T-boned them, spinning their SUV around. In the chaos that followed, Jaz felt rough hands grabbing her, dragging her out of the vehicle. She heard McG's shout cut off abruptly and felt a surge of panic. Then she was being hauled upright, an arm around her throat. "Finally," a cold voice hissed in her ear. Nadia. Jaz struggled weakly, but her body betrayed her. She could barely stand, let alone fight back. "Stop squirming," Nadia snapped. "Your life is finally going to be worth something to me." From somewhere behind her, Jaz heard a man speaking rapidly in Russian. The buyer, she realized. This was really happening. Suddenly, there was a commotion. Gunshots rang out, and Jaz heard the familiar sounds of her team in action. Hope surged through her. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, McG appeared. His face was streaked with blood from a cut on his forehead, but his eyes were clear and focused. In one fluid motion, he tackled the buyer, breaking his hold on Jaz. At the same moment, Top emerged from the smoke, his gun trained on Nadia. "It's over," he growled. Nadia's face contorted with rage, but before she could move, Preach was there, cuffing her hands behind her back. "Nadia Tareen, you're under arrest for treason against the United States," he recited grimly. As the military police moved in to take custody of Nadia and the buyer, Jaz felt her legs give out. McG caught her before she hit the ground. "Whoa, easy there," he murmured, lowering her gently. His hands moved quickly, assessing her condition. "Top!" he called out, his voice urgent. "We need to get her back to the hospital now. She's reopened her wound." Top was there in an instant, his face tight with concern. "How bad?" "Bad enough," McG replied grimly. "She needs surgery to clean and restitch the wound." Within minutes, they were racing back to the hospital, Jaz drifting in and out of consciousness in the back seat. McG worked furiously to stabilize her, muttering encouragement and the occasional curse under his breath. The next few hours passed in a blur of activity.
Jaz was rushed into surgery while the team paced anxiously in the waiting room. When the doctor finally emerged, his face was cautiously optimistic. "We've managed to clean out the wound and restitch it," he explained. "She lost a fair amount of blood, but she's stable now. The next 24 hours will be critical." As soon as they were allowed, the team resumed their bedside vigil. Jaz slept fitfully, occasionally mumbling in her sleep. Each time, one of them would be there, holding her hand, assuring her she was safe. It was during one of these quiet moments that Top's phone rang. He stepped out into the hallway to take the call, returning a few minutes later with a grim expression. "That was Patricia," he said quietly. "Nadia's being transported to DC to stand trial for treason. Rami's being taken to a detention center stateside. He's offering up more intel on the cell Nadia was involved with." "What's going to happen to Nadia?" Amir asked, his voice low. Top's jaw clenched. "If convicted, she'll face the death penalty for treason." A heavy silence fell over the room. "Patricia's agreed to keep Jaz out of the rest of this," Top added. "She's been through enough." McG nodded approvingly. "Damn straight she has." They lapsed into silence again, each lost in their own thoughts. It was Amir who finally voiced the question they were all grappling with. "How do we get Jaz through this?" Preach looked around at his team, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and determination. "Like we always have," he said softly. "Together." McG straightened in his chair, his face set. "She'll be in the hospital for at least several more days, even if I have to tie her to the bed myself." Despite the gravity of the situation, the others couldn't help but smile at the image. "And once she's released?" Amir prompted. "We'll be off rotation for a few weeks," Top decided. "She'll need time to rest and recover once we're back at the hut. We all will. We need time to decompress and deal with what's happened." As if on cue, Jaz began to stir. McG was instantly at her side, offering her some ice chips. "Easy does it," he murmured as she blinked groggily. "Is it over?" she asked weakly, her eyes searching their faces. Top stepped forward, taking her hand. "Yeah, Jaz," he said softly. "It's over." The relief that washed over her face was palpable.
For the first time in days, the tension seemed to drain from her body. Over the next few days, the team fell into a rhythm. They took turns sitting with Jaz, talking to her, reading to her, or simply being a comforting presence. When she was asleep, they used the time to process their own emotions about what had happened. McG threw himself into overseeing Jaz's medical care, scrutinizing every detail of her treatment plan. Top spent hours on the phone with Patricia, ensuring that every loose end was tied up. Amir took it upon himself to research trauma recovery, determined to be as supportive as possible. Preach, ever the calm center of the team, was always there with a word of wisdom or a comforting silence. As Jaz grew stronger, the conversations turned towards the future.
They talked about their upcoming downtime, making plans for movie marathons and video game tournaments. Anything to keep Jaz's mind occupied and give her something to look forward to. One evening, as the setting sun cast a warm glow over the hospital room, Jaz looked around at her team – her family – and felt a surge of emotion. "I don't know how to thank you guys," she said, her voice thick. "For everything." "You don't have to," Top replied, his eyes soft. "This is what family does." "He's right," Preach added. "Remember what I always say? The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. We chose each other, Jaz. And we'll always be here for you." McG grinned, lightening the mood. "Besides, who else is going to keep you out of trouble?" Jaz managed a weak laugh. "You're one to talk, McG." As the laughter subsided, a comfortable silence fell over the room. There was still a long road ahead – physical recovery for Jaz, emotional healing for all of them. But in that moment, surrounded by the people who knew her best and loved her most, Jaz felt a flicker of hope.
Weeks later, back at the team's safe house, life was slowly returning to a new normal. Jaz, though still recovering, was regaining her strength day by day.
"Come on, Jazzy," McG called from the living room. "Time for PT!"
Jaz groaned dramatically as she limped into the room. "You're worse than the actual physical therapist, McG."
"That's because I care," he retorted with a grin, helping her settle onto the exercise mat.
As McG guided Jaz through her exercises, the rest of the team moved around them, a comforting presence. Amir was in the kitchen, the smell of something delicious wafting through the air. Preach sat nearby, ostensibly reading but keeping a watchful eye on Jaz's progress.
Top's phone rang, breaking the peaceful atmosphere. He stepped out onto the porch to take the call, his brow furrowing as he listened.
When he returned, his face was grim. The team immediately sensed the shift in mood.
"What is it?" Preach asked, setting aside his book.
Top's eyes met Jaz's. "That was Patricia," he said quietly. "Nadia... she was found hung in her cell this morning."
A heavy silence fell over the room. Jaz's face was unreadable, a mix of emotions flickering across her features too quickly to interpret.
"Jaz?" McG prompted gently.
She took a deep breath. "I... I don't know how to feel," she admitted.
"That's okay," Preach said, moving to sit beside her. "There's no right way to feel about something like this."
Top's phone buzzed again. "Patricia's asking if you want her to contact your father," he said hesitantly. "To let him know or... make any arrangements."
Jaz's jaw tightened. "She can contact him if she needs to," she said, her voice hard. "But I want nothing to do with any of it going forward."
The team nodded, understanding and accepting her decision without question.
"You know we're here for you, right?" Amir said, emerging from the kitchen. "Whatever you need."
Jaz looked around at her team – her family – and felt a surge of gratitude. "I know," she said softly. "And that's... that's everything."
As the day wore on, the team stayed close, their presence a silent but powerful support. They knew that the journey ahead would be challenging, but they would face it together, as they always had.