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The cold, frigid water all around her pulls and pushes, threatening to pull her down to her death, but Riley keeps on swimming towards the lifeboat. She can barely see it in the night’s darkness - it’s just out of reach, bobbing up and down at the tips of her fingers, kept just out of reach by the howling wind and the rough waves.
Riley takes a moment to gasp for air between the crests of two waves, before kicking her legs with renewed strength. She knows she has to get on that lifeboat. If she doesn’t - the water is too cold. She’ll die of hypothermia, if she doesn’t succumb to the ferocious waves first. Cold water slaps across her face, her lungs strain, burning with need for more oxygen and she pushes herself, kicking her alarmly numb legs until finally- finally, her hand touches the side of the lifeboat.
Riley grabs onto the rope along the side and holds on for dear life. A wave crashes over her and she goes under the water, but she squeezes the rope in her hand and pulls herself upward, until her face is above water. In the dim lighting, she spots the back of the lifeboat. Praying that it doesn’t flip over, Riley scoots over to the back of the lifeboat keeping both her hands on the side of the lifeboat. Finally, at the back of the lifeboat the sides are lower and Riley drags herself foot by foot onto the lifeboat, before rolling over and collapsing on her back.
Riley stares upward at the moon and the tiny, tiny stars glinting in the night as she gasps and tries to catch her breath. She is freezing cold, and her body is trembling in exhaustion, but she’s alive. After a few moments, Riley sits up and tries to get her bearings. Now that she’s not currently struggling for her life - something insistent and alarming at the back of her mind rings out. She was supposed to escape with Mac, Bozer and Cage on the lifeboat, at least before the mission had gone sideways. Mac, Bozer and Cage should’ve been here.
The mission had been simple. Eric Taylor was an arms dealer, circulating weapons using his cruise boat between the Caribbean to the USA. Riley, Mac, Bozer and Cage were supposed to infiltrate the cruise posing as couples on their honeymoon, find Eric Taylors weapons stache and his ledger. After Riley and Mac had managed to drop a bug on Eric, they found out that Eric was on to them - and he had hired an assassin on top of his regular security to hunt down the undercover agents and kill them.
Bozer was the first one to spot Murdoc, of all assassins, speaking to Eric Taylor and his team. Murdoc had turned, spotted the Phoenix agents and grinned, that creepy smile of his, and then cheerfully called out to Mac.
Mac and Riley had made a beeline for the lifeboats with Cage and Bozer at their heels. Somewhere they must’ve gotten separated, because when Riley and Mac made it to the lifeboats. Seconds Eric Taylor’s men had caught up; there was no time to lower the lifeboat over the side. They threw it over the side, and then jumped overboard, into the ice cold North Atlantic Ocean, hundreds of miles away from shore. Eric Taylor’s cruise boat had sped up after that, and within a few minutes it had been a mere spot of light in the distance.
Riley looks around the lifeboat. She’s alone. There’s no sign of Mac, Bozer or Cage; they would have noticed her when she climbed aboard. That’s when the lifeboat bobs in the waves, and Riley sees a still figure lying face down, head in a puddle.
Lifeless.
The lifeboat rocks with the waves, and blond hair glints in the moonlight.
“No no no no!” Riley mutters, terrified as she scrambles toward Mac. She rolls him over onto his back. His head lolls, unrestrained. Riley holds his head in place, two fingers on his forehead and another two under the chin. Her leans down, her cheek over his mouth, eyes looking at his chest.
His chest doesn’t move.
No breath reaches her cheek.
But. His skin is still warm to her touch.
There’s still hope. There has to be. Mac can’t be - he can’t be dead. Everything had been going so well - Mac had somehow realized Riley’s feelings, confronted her and returned them. They had started dating and it was nearly everything she had hoped for. It wasn’t perfect - they both had their fair share of trauma to heal from, and some days were better than others, but they were together. They were happy. They only had a few precious months together.
Riley squeezes Mac’s nose closed, nudges his mouth open by gently pushing down on his chin. She forces her head and hands to stop shivering long enough to give Mac a breath, making sure that the air goes in and his chest rises. She moves back, the air leaves. Riley gives Mac another breath, watches his chest rise and sink, and then turns her attention to his chest.
Riley arranges her position so she’s kneeling beside Mac, both her knees just barely touching his body, his arm up above his head out of the way. She struggles to remember where to put her hands. She vaguely remembers the instructor at the Phoenix saying something about landmarking? Then the memory comes to her. She puts both hands, flat beneath his armpits, and then drags them to the center of his chest. There. Next, she puts one hand on top of the other, and aligns the bottom of his palm over the spot she landmarked. She remembers the instructor saying at least two inches.
Riley pushes down - one inch, two inches. It’s hard. Harder than the practise dummies they used at the Phoenix. Her arms shake with effort, cold and exhaustion. Riley leans up, and Mac chest moves back up. One. Riley does it again, two, and again, three, and four, five, six.
There’s no change. Riley pushes on, droplets flying off her face. Riley isn’t sure if it's water or tears.
“Please, Mac. Come back.”
Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve.
There’s a dull crack, and Riley feels something break beneath her palm. A rib, broken. Riley feels nauseous, and her the contents of her stomach wants to come up but Riley grinds her teeth and shoves it down. She doesn’t have a second to waste, Mac doesn’t have a second to lose.
Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen.
Another rib cracks beneath her hands, and a sob escapes her lips. Her eyesight blurs with tears, but she blinks them away. They roll down her face, leaving hot tracks in their wake.
“Mac please. Wake up.”
Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four.
Another rib breaks, and Riley can’t hold back her sobs anymore. Her body’s shaking in fear, horror, exhaustion, but she keeps her hands steady. She can’t lose Mac. Not now. She-she just can’t. Mac means so much to her, ever since he came and rescued her from prison. They had been strangers then, but they had quickly grown to be good friends, and recently after months of pining, into lovers. Mac means the world to her. He can’t die.
“Mac, I love you. I need you. Wake up! Wake up!”
The lifeboat tilts to the side, and Riley grabs Mac and the lifeboat, stopping them from slipping. She looks toward whatever caused the tilt and -
- sees Murdoc’s face, soaking wet but alive, pulling himself onto the lifeboat. He used his left hand to pull himself up, and then his right hand comes up and no.
He has a gun. A gun that he’s currently pointing at Riley.
This is it.
This is the end of her story.
Mac is dead, Bozer and Cage have disappeared, and Riley has no idea where Jack and Matty are.
Riley’s so tired, so overwhelmed, and hard shivers wrack through her body. She doesn’t have any final words. But at the same time, she doesn’t have any regrets. She doesn’t regret joining the Phoenix, working with Jack, and meeting Mac, Bozer, Cage and Matty. She doesn’t regret loving Mac either.
Murdoc’s eyes flicker between her, Mac, and something in the distance. Something in his face hardens, and he presses the trigger.
The shot rings loud, although not as loud as it would have without the howling ring. Riley flinches, and then realizes she’s still alive. Murdoc’s shot went wide. Riley looks at Murdoc in shock.
From somewhere behind Riley, there’s shouting, and then the sound of someone starting to return fire. Had Eric Taylor’s security stayed behind to make sure they didn’t board the lifeboat? And why is Murdoc firing at them? Why is he helping Riley and Mac?
Murdoc turns to Riley and snarls, “Don’t stop now!” Before moving past Riley to the other side of the boat, while shooting away.
Riley quickly repositions her arms, and continues the compressions.
Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.
Riley moves towards Mac’s head. She squeezes his nose closed, nudges his chin down and gives him another breath.
Mac jolts, and starts coughing.
Riley jerks backward, and then quickly rolls him onto his side, facing her. She gently keeps a firm hand on his head and his side as he coughs up water. After a moment, Mac stops coughing. There’s no vomit from what Riley can see, so she turns him over onto his back and reassesses.
In the dim moonlight, Riley sees Mac’s blue eyes, open, unfocuses, but open and blinking all the same. Thank God. Riley prays, and then grabs his hand, holding on tightly as tears of relief stream down her face. Her voice, wet with emotion, she chokes out, “Mac.”
Mac manages a to croak a groggy response. “ ‘iles? What-” He tries to move up.
Riley puts a hand on his chest. “No, stay here. It’s -” Truth be told, it’s not okay. They’re on a lifeboat in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, with Murdoc of all people onboard, shooting at Eric Taylor’s men who are undoubtedly armed to the teeth with ammunition. It’s only a matter of time before Murdoc runs out of bullets. Bozer and Cage are still missing. Jack and Matty are somewhere, probably looking for them.
As if on cue, the lifeboat tilts again, and Riley looks over to see Bozer. He’s struggling to hold onto the lifeboat, there something with him, someone-
Riley sees the top of a slumped figure, soaked blond hair glinting in the moonlight. Deja vu.
“Mac, Riley!” Bozer gasps out. “Help me pull her up!”
Riley tells Mac to stay where he is - he was not breathing for at least a minute and Riley knows that there could be severe consequences - tissue damage - from that. He’s in no shape to help out.
Riley moves over to Bozer and Cage, making sure to keep low and not become a target for whoever Murdoc’s shooting at. Riley gets her hands under Cage’s armpits, and together they manage to lift Cage onboard. Riley drags her back to lie next to Mac, as Bozer drags himself onto the lifeboat and collapses, completely exhausted.
Heart back in her throat, Riley checks Cage’s vitals - she’s breathing and her chest is rising.
Riley exhales in relief. They’re alive. They’re all alive, for now.
Barely moving, Bozer pulls something out of his pocket and mumbles, “Riley,” while trying to catch his breath.
Riley looks, and in Bozer’s hand is a dry satellite phone in a ziplock bag.
Riley scrambles for it, and quickly puts in Jack’s number.
He picks up instantly. “Mac? Riles?”
Instantly, relief floods through Riley. “Jack, it’s me.”
“Riles? Are you okay? Is the team with you?”
“Yea, I’m okay. Mac’s - well he’s semi conscious now. Cage is unconscious, but breathing. Bozer here too - and Murdoc’s shooting the bad guys.”
At that, Jack swears. “Hang tight. We’re on our way. We’ll get you guys out of trouble in no-time.” There’s a slight ruffle over the phone, and then Matty’s voice comes through. “We have your general location, and we’re pinpointing your exact coordinates right now. Stay on the phone okay? We’re almost there.”
“Okay.” Riley slumps back against the lifeboat in relief. Jack and Matty are on the way.
They’re going to be okay.
The End.