The hidden compartment in the floor of the truck felt like a coffin, even with the faint glimmer of hope that came from knowing they had finally crossed the border into Turkey. Jaz kept her breathing shallow to minimize the pain radiating from her ribs. Her body was a mess of bruises, cuts, and raw wounds, but she kept her focus on the fact that she was alive—they all were.
When the truck finally came to a halt, the muffled sounds of Amir's voice signaled it was safe to emerge. The floor panel creaked as Amir jumped on the back. McG and Top pushed the panels while Amir pulled, revealing Jaz curled up in the cramped space between the both of them. Preach was the first out and was already on the lookout, scanning their surroundings.
As Top and McG climbed out McG's eyes immediately went to Jaz, his medic instincts kicking in. "Alright, Jaz, let's get you out," McG said softly, extending a hand to help her. His tone was professional, but the worry etched into his face was unmistakable. Jaz accepted his help, wincing as he pulled her up.
The cold night air hit her like a slap, and she swayed slightly on her feet. McG's arm was around her in an instant, steadying her. "You good?" he asked, his voice low but urgent.
"Yeah," she lied, her voice hoarse. The truth was she felt like she could collapse at any moment, but she wasn't about to admit that—not to McG, not to anyone.
McG's mind raced with the list of injuries she might be hiding. He had seen the blood, the bruises, the cuts, and the sheer exhaustion in her eyes. It angered him knowing what she had been through, knowing he couldn't have gotten to her sooner. He swallowed the frustration, focusing on what he could do now.
Top climbed down and began stretching and rubbing his face. "Let's get moving as soon as we can. Amir, how long until we're back at base?"
"5 hours," Amir replied, climbing into the drivers seat to grab some water.
Preach leaned against the truck, speaking into the radio. "Command, this is Preach. Package secure, we're an hour into friendly territory. ETA five hours."
Noah's voice crackled in response, calm but firm. "Copy, Preach. Keep us posted. We are monitoring comms and medical is on standby for Jaz the moment you arrive on base."
McG took the opportunity to give Jaz a more thorough check-up, away from the hurried glances and makeshift treatments he'd managed during the rescue. He paced a little bit and yanked his comms when he heard Noah said they were being monitored. He couldn't take back what she had endured but he could adleast give her privacy.
He moved to stand in front of where she was sitting on the truck bed and crouched in front of her, his expression serious. "Jaz, I need to ask you some things," he began, his voice softer than usual. "It's important."
Her eyes flickered with unease, but she nodded. "Did they…" He hesitated, the words catching in his throat. "Did they rape you?"
Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she couldn't meet his eyes. Her eyes began to fill with tears that she refused to shed nearly causing panic to raise in McG's throat. Then she shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. "No."
McG exhaled, relief and anger mingling on his face. He hated having to ask her that, hated what they had done to her. "How badly did they hurt you?"
"Pretty bad," she admitted, her voice cracking. He nodded, trying to keep his emotions in check. He had to stay solid for her, but inside, his chest burned with helpless rage. "Okay. We'll deal with it. But you're safe now."
He reached out, brushing her hair back gently. "You scared us really bad back there, Jaz," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "We thought we were too late."
Top returned with a spare jacket, draping it over Jaz's shoulders. "Put this on. You're shivering."
Instead of leaving, he lingered, hovering too close as McG began his examination. His pacing and constant questioning grated on McG's nerves. "Top," McG said firmly, his patience thinning. "Give me some space to work."
Top hesitated, looking like he wanted to argue, but Preach clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, Top. Let's give them some room."
Top reluctantly followed Preach to the front of the truck, grumbling under his breath. Preach shot McG a knowing look before leading Top away, understanding the need for privacy. As Preach walked with Top, he thought about how much weight the mission had put on all of them. He knew Top felt responsible in a way none of them could fully grasp, and giving him space to breathe was the only way to help.
Amir walked around and offered a small bottle of water, giving Jaz's hand a reassuring squeeze before returning to the front of the truck where Preach was trying to keep Top sequestered. That small gesture didn't go unnoticed by McG. Amir had been the quiet, steady presence through all of this. In his mind, Amir was already calculating the safest route back, scanning for any potential threats. As tumultuous as their beginning relationship had been, Jaz held a great deal of meaning to the rather complicated man. She had a way of getting under his skin like no one else.
McG dug through his pack, pulling out gauze, antiseptic wipes, and painkillers. As he crouched in front of Jaz again, his expression serious yet gentle. She couldn't help but notice how stuffed and orderly his ready bag was.
"I didn't think you could fit that much into that bag and it be that organized" she muttered amused
He laughed a little and smiled "Yea well, Top had me prep it and restock it a half a dozen times while we worked to find you. I had plenty of practice. Alright, let's take a proper look now. You need to tell me if anything's too much, okay?"
Jaz nodded, eyes flickering with exhaustion. McG carefully lifted the hem of her shirt, revealing dark bruises spreading across her ribs. He pressed lightly, watching her face for any sign of pain.
She sucked in a breath sharply. "That bad, huh?" McG frowned. "Yeah. Some deep bruising, maybe a cracked rib or 5. You're running on fumes, Jaz."
"I know," she whispered, her head falling back against the side of the truck. McG's thoughts churned as he examined her. Every bruise, every scrape told a story of pain he couldn't erase. He wanted to fix it all, but there was only so much he could do in the back of a truck. The reality of their situation weighed heavily on him. He had to push aside his emotions and focus on stabilizing her.
Top, watching from the front, couldn't shake the feeling that he had let her down. Deep down he knew, he pushed her into this. In away they all had. He was supposed to keep his team safe, and seeing Jaz like this gnawed at his gut. He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face.
McG continued his examination, checking her wrists where the restraints had bitten into her skin. His fingers were gentle, but she still flinched. "Sorry," he murmured, dabbing at the raw, broken skin.
Jaz swallowed hard. "It's fine."
McG worked silently for a while, cleaning her wounds and wrapping her ribs with expert precision. As he finished, he sat back and studied her carefully. "When's the last time you ate?"
Jaz gave a weak smirk. "You know the answer to that."
He sighed, handing her the water Amir had given. "Take small sips. If your scans are clean we will get you something to eat at the hospital."
"Now you want me to be poisoned by Army food." Jaz tried her best to channel her inner smart ass but it fell flat.
McG rolled his eyes at her but felt a bit of relief knowing no matter how badly they had hurt her his Jaz was still in there somewhere.
Top and McG had tried to get Jaz to ride up front with Amir so she could rest and stay warm but she wouldn't have it. Before it became an all out fight between her and Top she finally managed in the smallest of voices "I just need fresh air..I need air."
McG pulled a blanket over Jaz's shoulders and assured her "If air is what you need air is what you will get. Top, I saw a rug in the back. Why don't you set up a place for her to sit and we can put the rug behind her for extra support."
Preach jumped in the front with Amir as McG settled Jaz on her perch and got comfortable next to her. He allowed his leg to gentle rest against hers. Enough to let her know he was there but enough also give her space.
Top found a small corner of the truck bed to rest against and quickly began to realize his exhaustion was about to pull him under and slowly closed his eyes.
As the truck rumbled on through the night, McG noticed Jaz growing quieter, her breathing shallow and uneven. She tried to mask it, but he caught the faint tremor in her frame.
"Jaz," he said softly, leaning closer. "Talk to me. What's going on?"
She hesitated, then finally admitted, "I don't feel so great."
McG was already moving before the words were fully out. "Okay, come here," he said, easing her down from the crate she was sitting on. He positioned her head in his lap, adjusting the blanket around her to keep her warm. His hands were gentle as he checked her vitals, and he was thankful for the darkness to mask his concern.
Amir kept glancing in the rearview mirror, his dark eyes flicking between the road ahead and Jaz lying on McG's lap. His grip on the wheel tightened with each glance, worry etched into his face as he silently counted the miles left to base. He tried hard not to think about his years of undercover work knowing first hand what those monsters could have put Jaz through.
Top sat off to the side, his body tense even in sleep. His face twisted in a grimace, trapped in a nightmare where he found Jaz lifeless in the back of a van, the horror playing on repeat in his subconscious. He jolted awake with a sharp intake of breath, rubbing a hand over his face, trying to shake the lingering fear. But sleep quickly claimed him once again.
Preach sat up front with Amir, staring out into the dark, his mind heavy with thoughts. He prayed silently, asking for healing, for normalcy, for the pieces of their team to fit back together again.
McG looked down at Jaz, curled up in his lap, her death grip on his hand sending a silent plea for security. Normally feisty and stubborn, seeing her so vulnerable shattered something in him.
Jaz's small hand reached for his sleeve, her grip weak but deliberate. Hidden from Top, the gesture felt like a silent plea. McG covered her hand with his own, squeezing it reassuringly. "I've got you," he said quietly. "Just hang on. We're almost home." The team continued forward, each lost in their own thoughts, but with a shared understanding that they had survived—and now they just had to get home.