Archive of Our Own

The mission had started off as any other, until it turned into something bad.

Their unit was EOD, a specialty unit that was tasked with finding and disabling explosive ordinances in whatever surrounding area. They’d never been tasked with official mission missions before; even when they had to deal with the mega IEDs. Sure, that was a mission, but one that fit into their category.

Why Mac and Jack were the only ones from their unit traveling in a weird sort of caravan with groups of infantry guys, they still didn’t quite understand.

“I know this is something different than you two are used to, but orders came from the top. My hands are tied. First Sergeant Watts can brief you on what to expect, but to be perfectly honest you’re going in mostly blind. You’ll be told what you need to know, and whatever your commanding officer sees fit to tell you. You have three days to pack your essential gear then you’ll be headed out.”

Jack didn’t like secrets. He had years of experience with them, all the covert ops while he was Delta and the aliases when he was in the CIA. Most had been settled smoothly, no biggie, but the ones that ended badly were the ones that were always very hush hush. There was always a lack of information that could end up getting people killed. If they had been told they were going out with infantry from their unit, he wouldn’t have been so worried by it. The fact that they were to be heading out with an actual infantry unit was something that Jack knew was trouble all in itself. EOD units handled bombs with a chance of human interaction. Infantry units handled humans with a chance of IEDs.

“I don’t like it. No good ever comes from a need to know basis. Withholdin information from the guys that gotta do the job always factors in an unnecessary risk and good men end up dyin.”

Mac knew there were stories behind those words, knew that Jack would tell him if he asked, but he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to trudge up old hurtful memories. And he didn’t fault him for not wanting to risk anything. But Mac was used to risks. He risked his life every time they went out into the sandbox. In a moment he could be shot, or cut the wrong wire and be blown up. Joining up had been a risk. And even before that, he took risks when he was still a child; breaking into school to do experiments, or agreeing to stay in the woods by himself for days. But then those were calculated risks; knowing all the information and still going through with it. Not exactly the same scenario they had been facing.

“Watts said we’re being put with the highest ranked infantry unit. If they’re getting together the best people for this, it has to be something important. I hate to say it but they wouldn’t risk their best guys for something second rate.”

They’d unfortunately had no choice in the matter. Or they did, but neither of them thought going AWOL would look good, given their status.

Surprisingly, someone had actually been sent to retrieve them. That in itself actually told a lot more about the mission than first. Two First Class Privates had loaded their things into a Humvee while Mac and Jack bid farewells to their squad members.

“Man I hate when you guys get loaned out. Don’t people know this is the army not a library?”

“Hey bring back some souvenirs.”

“I am so gonna switch off sleeping in yer guys’ bunks while yer gone.”

“Don’t give our unit a bad name. Hollywood I don’t wanna hear any new rumors starting up while you’re out there. Tex for the love of god, don’t try to sing Sweet Caroline with anyone else.”

They hadn’t been told the exact amount of time they’d be gone, only it was somewhere between a few days to a month, maybe longer.

Jack was used to it, having to be lost in the sandbox for sometimes weeks at a time with radio silence to ensure the target would be secured properly. Mac wasn’t used to it, at least Jack didn’t think he was. Mac had told him about the few times he’d been camping with nothing but his pocket knife. The concepts were the same, but they couldn’t be more different. Mac was a soldier, yes, but in terms of any sort of actual mission, Jack had more experience.

It had taken a few hours to get to their temporary base, heavy on the temporary. While their home base had supported structure tents, their current residence looked like a campsite. Nomad bases weren’t exactly uncommon, but it had been the first time either of them had seen one. It had given them a bit of insight in what to expect from the whole thing; whatever they were actually supposed to be dealing with was big.

They’d been given a quick overview of the camp, told to not bother remembering because it changed every time they relocated, and shown where they’d be sleeping. If they weren’t in danger of waking up with desert creatures invading their very persons, they would’ve definitely been sleeping on the sand and not two foot cot.

They’d been introduced to their commanding officer, a one Adam Greer, and like expected, he gave them nearly no insight as to why they were there in the first place.

“Martinez said you were the best, and I only take the best in my unit. Do as your told and help us carry out this mission and you’ll be granted back to your unit.”

“With all due respect sir, we don’t know what we’re doin here in the first place. Gonna be rather hard to carry out this mission if we don’t know what the mission even is. How we supposed to prepare if we don’t know anythin?”

Jack had a thing with challenging authority when the time called for it. He knew what questions to ask to get the answers he wanted, even if the answer was getting told off, it still gave him more information than what he had before.

“You were told it’s a need to know basis mission. You don’t need to know any particular details, Sergeant.”

“Sir I’ve been on many need to know missions, and I can tell ya bout all the ones that went wrong because of lack of intel, and I can certainly say those numbers greatly outweigh any that went right. If you want this whole thing to not go sideways, we need somethin that gives us an idea of what we’re gonna be dealin with.”

It wasn’t a completely failed attempt. Greer had slipped up when he dismissed them, saying they didn’t need to know anything at that point, giving a hint that they’d at least be told something before the whole thing started. They knew just from the fact that they were there that it was something to do with IEDs, and having requested them specifically meant it was something much more difficult. That wasn’t anything new to them though.

What was new was the base as a whole, the Nomads. A few guys had introduced themselves as Mac and Jack ventured around the camp, but for the most part they kept their distance.

“It’s nothing against either of you. Just gotta adapt to the lifestyle. Nomads don’t really connect with anything or anyone outside of our own group because we move around so much. This’ll probably be the only time we’ll ever work together. Guys’ll be helpful and whatnot, but they aren’t looking to make friends.”

That was completely fine. Most guys didn’t join the army to make friends anyways.

They were sitting in the same spot in the desert for two days without so much as a peep from any commanding officer about what to do. And since there wasn’t an actual base, Mac and Jack just stayed in their small tent for most of that time, more or less just talking about nonsensical things.

The third day is when they were moving. Guys had packed up everything they had into the back of a large covered truck, then got in to two other ones themselves. Mac and Jack were still situated in Humvee at the front of the caravan with five other people. They made polite small talk; asking where they were from and whatnot. Someone asked what made them the best tech and watch in the army. While Mac just shrugged it off saying he’s not the best, Jack bragged about everything he’d done, saying they should give him a statue to commemorate him when he’s gone.

They ended up driving through the night, stopping only once so everyone could stretch their legs and switch drivers. They’d also stopped the following day for the same reason. Jack had tried to get more information out of Greer, but the man had still stayed silent.

It was like that for two more days, endless driving through the desert. Definitely a different life than Mac and Jack were used to. They were getting restless; stuck in a car all day and night with an hour or so of stretching every couple of hours. Maybe if they had chosen different paths they’d be used to it but the so-called Nomad Troops were something different.

It was the fourth day of driving, the sun barely starting to descend from the sky, when Mac shouted at the driver.

“Stop!”

It startled everyone in the vehicle. The driver slammed on the breaks, causing everyone to lurch forward at the sudden lack of movement. All the traffic behind them also came to a halt, and the one that had been beside them to stop further ahead. The radio in the humvee whirled to life with a commanding voice asking about the stop, but no one gave an answer.

Instead, Mac exited the humvee, walking to the front of it before taking out a small pair of binoculars from a pocket and peering into the distance.

“Whatcha got hoss?” Jack was standing right next to him, looking off in the same direction.

Mac handed him the binoculars and pointed to the distance. “Flatland dunes, a lot of them.”

“You better have a sterling reason we’re stopped.” Greer spoke as he approached. Several other men from all vehicles had stepped out to see if they could spot what Mac had seen.

“Gotta bit of a problem in front of us sir.”

“And that would be?”

“Flatland dunes. Looks like they go on for nearly a klick in all directions.”

“Dunes aren’t a reason to be stopped, soldier. Our vehicles are more than capable to handle their terrain.”

“I doubt even your things can handle flatland dunes sir.” When Greer gestured, Mac continued. “If you pay attention to the lay of the land, you can see its extremely flat. Dunes wouldn’t form normally here in any circumstance. Those are man made, and typically have IEDs hiding in them. Driving through the convenient path wouldn’t be a good idea either, because those low spots could also hold IEDs or pressure plates.”

“You’re saying there’s no way to get through it?”

“No. The pattern is so indistinct that for all we know, there could be an IED in every dune or flat spot.”

Greer frowned. “How do you deal with them if there’s so many?”

Mac shrugged slightly. “It’s too dangerous for me to try to get in there. The few times we’ve come across them, Jack normally shoots pop shots in the flat space to check for pressure plates. If that doesn’t work, a grenade always seemed to do the trick.”

“Those were some weird days I tell ya. Some of the biggest earth shatterin kabooms I’ve been witness to.” Jack snorted. “Somethin bout this whole thing tells me that we don’t wanna make any loud noises if we can help it.”

That time, Greer told them why they’d been recruited to that mission. They’d been on a trail of an insurgent group like themselves, never staying in one spot for more than a few days, but recently they’d been sat in one spot for weeks. Each time they moved positions, IEDs had been left in their wake, and they’d lost some good men to them. He had figured at having the IEDs detonate was a sort of warning system for them to pack up and leave, and since they had been stationary for so long, it was finally their chance.

All in all, Mac was basically acting as an IED detector.

They knew that wasn’t the whole story though. If it was, Greer would’ve told them from the beginning, since it wouldn’t have been the first time someone requested Mac specifically because he had the best stats when it came to identifying normal and abnormal patterns in the sand.

But they settled for that information. And it also meant that they were close to whatever camp they had set out for.

The whole caravan ended up driving at least a full klick out of the way to make sure they didn’t hit any sort of trigger devise that could set everything off.

It was another full day of driving that lead into the night before they stopped and set up camp. In the far distance, barely seeable without binoculars, there was a town. It was new looking, probably only been in that spot for a few weeks. It made sense why the insurgents had stopped suddenly.

They were given a more detail filling debrief in the morning. That unit had been tracking the insurgents for months, and they’d finally been given a break from chasing. They apparently held two very smart and powerful figure heads. A plan had been devised and modified every time they got close enough for capture, but because of the IEDs, they’d always been set back weeks. Since Mac and Jack had joined them, they were finally able to put the plan into motion.

Jack didn’t like the plan though, not one bit.

He and Mac had been pulled away to actually have the plan explained, which involved Mac heading in to the town with a handful of other guys to set charges under the cover of darkness, rig it to explode once they got the guys they were looking for. Okay, simple enough, but when Greer said Jack wouldn’t be one of the guys with him is when he put his foot down.

“Dalton you’re the best sniper anyone had to offer. I need you hanging back to take out guys that might give our guys trouble.”

“And I’m tellin ya that if Mac goes into that town then you can bet yer ass I’m gonna be right there with him.”

“Having you go in with them will just set the risk higher. Now I trust my guys to snipe, but your stats make them look like they’re still in basic. The best way to keep your tech safe is if you do as you’re used to, and hang back and pick guys off if they get too close to anything.”

Jack couldn’t counter with anything. He’d had his share of up close and personal attacks but for years he’s been a sniper, and he most likely was the best that was there, not to mention he definitely wouldn’t trust anyone else there to watch Mac’s back.

“We’ll be alright Jack. These guys are the best at what they do, and apparently we also are. Besides, laying IEDs is a lot quicker than disarming them.”

Jack hated it. He hated watching the guys get geared up. Hated watching Mac get geared up. Hated the agonizing wait until the following night. Hated clapping Mac on the shoulder as they started to head out. Hated when he got to his post and watched them through his night vision scope.

It was one of those gut feelings he had, the one where something was most definitely going to go wrong. Guys at their base would be making fun of him, but ultimately know he was right, because he’d always been right when it came to those things. Or rather, when it came to Mac.

He watched as they walked single file across the dark desert, slowly making their way to the enemy base. He kept his scope trained on Mac as the group split so they could cover ground faster. He only took eyes off Mac when they had gone around a building and he was out of sight. From then he scanned the surroundings, making sure the enemies that were stationed outside kept their dull, unaltered patrolling pattern.

But then something had happened. Something had caught their attention.

Something had gone wrong.

Jack couldn’t see Mac. All the infantry guys in the town had scattered and the distant sound of gunfire echoed through the night.

“Come on… where are ya kid.”

Everyone was still scoped in, shooting every enemy they could see. And then, everything went silent. Everything stopped, an echoing crack of a gunshot being the last thing anyone heard.

Nothing for a minute, then another. Then lights had turned on; large, overcast ones that flooded the front of the town in light. That’s when he saw Mac again.

He and three others, kneeling, restrained in the front of the town with rifles at the back of their heads.

Jack wanted to vomit. Need to know missions rarely went smoothly.

He watched through his scope as the four of them were inspected. Things were ripped from their pockets, helmets and vests had been pulled off. One of the guys had put up a bit of a fight, but it only ended with him getting a rifle to the back of the head and knelt on as he slumped to the ground.

He was keyed in on Mac’s position in the whole thing. There was a man behind him, to the side, and in front. They’d noticed Mac was different, not the usual army man they’d been used to seeing. The man to the side, different type of uniform— most likely a higher up, was picking at Mac’s shoulder, where his EOD patch was. He was asked something, but didn’t answer, which ended up with him getting his hair pulled up, forcing out some sort of answer.

Jack’s finger was still, but how he wanted to pull the trigger and take all those guys out.

Instead he just watched.

Watched as Mac and two others were hoisted up, nearly dragged into the town. The fourth guy, the one that had been knelt on was let up, but quickly went back down as a shot was heard. A moment after that, the town appeared as it once did before; dark and nearly deserted.

No one said anything after that. No one could think of anything to say besides swearing up a storm. Jack had called it, said the mission was going to go belly up from the start. The whole thing was a red flag from the day Martinez told them about it. Eight guys had gone, none came back; five KIA and three captured, zero information on why they hadn’t been straight out killed along with the others.

It was a small miracle though. Mac was alive. In enemy hands but alive.

Jack hadn’t moved an inch after the camp went dark. He stayed in his spot though the remaining hours of the night and into the morning and midday, looking for any sign of Mac or the other guys.

“Take a break Dalton. There hasn’t been movement for hours.” The audacity of Captain Greer had honestly surprised him.

“Yer not lookin in the right place.” Jack had lost whatever respect he had for the man. Chain of command be damned.

“You’re going to tire yourself out more quickly if you don’t eat or rest.”

“I know what my body can handle. A few hours without food or sleep is a drop in the bucket in comparison to what I’ve had to go through.”

“Don’t make me pull rank to make you listen, soldier.”

Jack blinked through the scope before setting his rifle aside and facing the man. “Yer mad at me not listenin? Why should I listen to you when listenin to you got the guys in this mess in the first place? I told you this plan was a bad idea, that people would end up getting hurt, but you just had to go through with it, even though you didn’t have all the information. Five of yer guys are dead, and three of them are bein held hostage, maybe even tortured over there, all because you didn’t listen. So I’m sorry, sir, that I ain’t listenin to you. It hasn’t proved well in the past.”

“I suppose I deserved that.” Greer pinched the bridge of his nose then crossed his arms. “This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve made a bad call, but it is the first someone other than my commanding officer has reamed me for it, mostly because no one else has had the balls to. I pride myself with being the captain of the best goddamn nomad infantry unit there is, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know humility or when I’ve been beaten. I made a horrible call and lost today, so I’m going to ask for your insight on what you think we should do to get our boys back.”

***

It had taken some convincing for Jack to leave his post, only after two of the better snipers of the unit took his place. He’d been in the officer’s tent and gotten food and water but refused any sort of rest. All the information had been laid out in front of him; who they’d been trailing, their importance in the matter, how many men were supposedly stationed there, what kinds of munitions they had. The only thing they didn’t have, which was what Jack believed they needed the most, was some sort of view of the town.

They spent hours thinking of strategies and tactics, of using other layouts of the towns that they regularly ran into to try and see if they could use anything. The plans worked in theory, but nothing was a definite because they didn’t know the exact anything of the town, or where their guys were being held, if they were even still alive.

Jack had been holding on to a thread of believing Mac was alright. He knew in his gut, his weird sixth sense all the guys joked about, that Mac was still alive. He wasn’t going to be in the best position when he was going to be found, but Jack could deal with that. He could deal with Mac being a bit banged up and bruised, so long as he was alive, he didn’t care what state he would be found in.

He had honestly lost track of time, but the night had been over with and the sun was creeping into the sky. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t tired, stress and worry playing a big part in it, but a spike of adrenaline shoved everything away when a private came barging in.

“Toms’s alive.”

Warren Toms, a lieutenant that had gone in to the town, assumed KIA, had somehow made it back to their camp, and was now a resident in the med tent with a bullet wound to his back.

“Crazy sonofabitch said he went down and played dead until everything cooled off and wormed most of the way here. He’s holding on to consciousness to give you information about the town.”

As much as Jack wanted to get back to his lookout, he went with the others to med. At least there he might get some more information.

“Guy had popped open a window; hit Summers in the shoulder. Guy thought it was one of his own but only took a sec for him to see it wasn’t. All shit hit the fan after that. I played dead once I felt a hit. They piled all the dead, so I guess— they didn’t see me wiggling my way out. At least double guys we thought. Not enough— not enough coverage for who went in. I don’t think they saw— Tech’s stuff anywhere; think they thought they got us before he could do anything. Don’t know anything beyond that. Sorry Cap.”

“Don’t be sorry. That’s more than we had before. Get yourself some rest and we’ll get healed up in no time.”

More information than they had before. The information they had before wasn’t even correct, and Jack didn’t have any problem telling Greer off about it. He expected himself to yell, scream at his temporary commanding officer yet again for the misinformation, but every ounce of anger momentarily faded when they’d gone back to the officer’s tent and the radio flared to life.

“This is Specialist Macgyver. Does anyone read me?”

Jack had gone pale at the voice that had sounded over the radio. Mac sounded hoarse, like he hadn’t had anything to drink for days. But he was alive.

“This is Specialist Macgyver. Does anybody hear me?”

“We read you Specialist. It’s good to hear your voice.” A man answered.

“Is Captain Greer right there?”

“I’m right here Macgyver. Can you give us a status update?”

A voice had taken over, a man with a heavy middle eastern accent. “I must say, you have new people in your group Captain. I’ve not seen an explosives expert in an infantry group before.”

Jack wanted to be there. He wanted to run across the desert to punch the guy in the face.

“Your men are alive Captain. They stay alive as long as you stay put and they behave.”

“How do I know that you won’t just kill them after we stop talking?”

“I am a man of my word, Captain. I don’t suppose I could ask you merely trust me?” Silence for a moment. “I figure as much. Each day at the same time, I will allow your men to call for proof, as long as they behave. As for now, it is time for us to say goodbye.”

And just like that, the anger had appeared again.

They had called command, told them about the current situation. Jack heard the same line as when they started.

Orders from the top. Their hands were tied.

They had to sit there and just wait to see what would happen. The United States Army had a thing of never negotiating with terrorists, but Jack was willing to do whatever it took to get Mac back.

Surprisingly, for four days after, they received calls at the same time every day. They weren’t very long lasting, maybe ten minutes at most, but just hearing the other guys’ voices was calming, even if it was the same thing said every day.

Then the fifth day came, and Jack knew something was going to happen. Besides the first time, Mac hadn’t said anything other than an I’m alright, but that day, Mac was the one that called, and the only one that did any talking.

“Hey Jack?”

“Yeah hoss. I’m here. Whatcha need?” He had always waited at the radio, hoping to get something more each time, but that was something he didn’t want.

“You and Bozer— you two would get along well. Sorry I won’t be there to introduce you.” There was a terrifying calm in Mac’s voice as he spoke that sentence.

“What’re you talkin about Mac?” Jack couldn’t help the unexpected quiver in his own voice. “We’re gonna get you and the other guys outta there.”

“You heard him Jack. If there’s any movement of you coming their direction, they’re just gonna kill us. We— we’ve already talked amongst ourselves, and decided our course of action.”

There were sounds coming through the radio; a door opening and shuffling of feet. A man said something Jack didn’t understand but could’ve guessed that he was talking about the radio.

“It’s a small building on the right about two thirds of the way down the main center street.”

“Mac, whatever yer gonna do—”

“I’m sorry Jack—” Louder footsteps, a scuffle, some gunfire.

Everything around Jack froze. The air felt like it had been knocked out of him. His heartbeat was so extremely loud in his ears that the  sudden static on the radio and several blasts in the far distance sounded muffled. The silence of every other person that had been listening was horrifying.

And it seemed like forever until Greer had finally spoken. “Ted, get a hold of command. Tell them— send some choppers to our location.”

Location.

Small building two thirds of the way down on the right.

Small building down on the right.

Small building.

Location.

Mac had given Jack their location.

Jack grabbed his rifle and charged out of the tent, heading straight for the nearest Humvee. He ignored everyone who was speaking to him, started it up, and drove through the desert to the now destroyed town in the distance.

He didn’t know how long it was, mere minutes most likely with how fast he had been going. Every building Jack saw upon arriving had been collapsed, both fully and partly. There were a few things that were still on fire, barrels and crates filled with who knew what, one somewhere that probably held an ammo supply with all the popping that was going on.

He walked through what had been the main street carefully, his handgun at the ready. He would be lying if he said he felt something when he shot someone who survived the blast. He felt no pity or sorrow for the men he saw that had been caught right near the blast, skin burned to nonexistence, or for the men he saw that were trapped under slabs that used to be buildings. He felt absolutely nothing as he shot every one of them that was still alive. He was just doing his job, clearing out a sector of all threats like he’d done several times in the past.

Maybe it wasn’t right saying he didn’t feel anything. Jack had actually been feeling quite a lot at that moment, but everything was mixing together, or switching too quickly to properly determine one.

He remembered feeling like that only one other time before, and that was when his dad died. He remembered the sorrowful rage he felt, how unfair it was for him to lose his father. He didn’t think he’d have to experience that rage again in his lifetime.

But there was also guilt.

Guilt because Jack promised he’d have Mac’s back.

Guilt because Jack promised Mac he’d get him home.

Guilt because even though it was unintentional, Jack broke his promises.

He wouldn’t leave him there. Jack refused to leave Mac there. He would bring him home.

***

Death in itself was a part of life, theoretically speaking. It was the end, and no one knew what happened when someone died. Mac didn’t really believe in reincarnation, but didn’t really believe that it was just the end and that person would cease to exist. There was no science behind either way, because the only people that would be able to provide anything had no way of actually answering, on account of the whole death thing. Quantum immortality was also a stretch for him to believe, but it still wasn’t the same as anything else.

Mac wasn’t scared to die. Pieces of him already did when his family seemed to just break apart as a child. No, Mac wasn’t scared of death itself, but he was pretty terrified about how he’d go.

As a child, he always thought it would be old age. The more he grew, the more the cause changed; saying something to the wrong person, an experiment gone wrong, car accident, explosion, bullet. The thought of getting shot had nearly been erased when he and Jack had been paired, because Jack had been so incredibly insistent that he would get Mac back home in one piece.

It was almost laughable, looking back and thinking he’d die of old age. He knew the thought was from Grandpa Harry, the only person in his family to actually live to what was considered old.

Mac should’ve known better, especially after joining the army.

He wanted to call Jack out on his worrying when they first had joined the nomad unit. It wasn’t the first time they’d gone to help out others, and it probably wouldn’t have been the last. It was Mac’s first need to know mission though, officially anyways, and he knew from stories Jack and other guys had told him that those missions usually meant trouble. He had sort of expected things to go crooked or bend slightly, not do a complete turn and snap.

Hearing the gunshot took a second to register in his head, that even though that sound had been normal for the last two years of his life, hearing it at that moment meant something had gone extremely wrong. Mac had a good handle on a sense of time because if he didn’t, he would’ve been blown away years ago, but everything after that first shot seemed to happen so fast that it was almost like he got whiplash from it.

The insurgents had surrounded them, but no shots were fired between either group. Instead, everything was quiet for what seemed like the longest time, before some important higher up came into view. He spoke with a heavy Persian accent, telling the three men Mac was with to lower their guns.

They were lowered after a few seconds, and the insurgents were upon them, forcing them to their knees and binding their hands behind there backs. They were marched through the town, out to the front, where they were again forced to kneel and giant floodlights had been turned on. Then their gear was stripped away, tossed to the side like trash.

Mac had a good understanding of what was going on, that they were being shown to their own unit across the desert and were now prisoners. He had glanced at some men to his right, watched for a brief second before setting his eyes back on the ground upon realizing they were carrying bodies of both side’s deceased.

The supposed captain of the insurgents had stepped aside of Mac, brushing his fingers on the EOD patch on his arm.

“You are new. We’ve not seen this patch with this group before. How long have you been with them?”

Mac kept his eyes focused on the ground. He would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t terrified in that moment. A hand had gone on his head, and his hair was pulled up and back so he was forced to look at who was speaking to him.

“How long have you been with them?”

He peered at a scarred face, deep ones across the left cheek and forehead. They could’ve been shrapnel wounds, or left by someone close enough with a knife.

“Two weeks! About two weeks!”

It could’ve been more than that, or less. Mac honestly didn’t remember.

The hand had let go of his hair, but two other sets had grabbed either of his arms and hoisted him up, along with the others, at an assumed order in Persian. Mac glanced at the others, only one had attempted any sort of resistance upon being pulled up, and watched as he was shot and his body dropped. It was something he wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

The three of them were marched down the street, into a building on the right that seemed significantly smaller than the rest. It was more like a box in all honesty; single small room, single window, single lamp hanging from the ceiling. Most likely apart of another building that just hadn’t been built yet.

That was where they were for hours, with guards on every side to make sure there was zero chance of their escape. It had been somewhat of a surprise when the captain had entered the next day, having their hands rebound in front of them and handing Mac one of the radios from their gear, telling him to call their unit. It wasn’t the action in itself, but how civil he was. Mac knew better though, that the whole thing was just a ploy of showing they weren’t actually that bad. He knew about that from basic, and through Jack and other guys drilling it into his head of they ain’t friendly. Don’t believe them for a second, otherwise yer a goner.

But Mac called, and the three of them listened to the man have a conversation with Greer about daily calls for proof of life before abruptly cutting the whole thing short and leaving once again.

“They’re trying to wear us down with that bullshit. No goddamn way in hell is this gonna end good for either side. Someone’s gonna lose.”

Mac didn’t actually know the names of the guys he was with. He had probably been told before they went out, but they were lost on him at that point. But he was right; a call each day to establish and earn trust before ultimately naming the price they’d have to pay. The United States Army didn’t negotiate with terrorists, so there was zero chance it was going to work.

None of them had to actually say it. They knew what was most likely going to happen.

Each day after that, they’d been given a single bottle of water and a radio to call their unit. The other two guys were the ones that did all the talking, offering the comm to Mac but he denied it each time.

He was lost in thought, how his life could’ve been if he didn’t join. He would’ve graduated MIT, maybe gone on to be some sort of scientist or physicist, maybe a teacher, maybe even had a relationship and family at some point. He and Bozer would’ve gotten into a lot more trouble while living together in his grandfather’s house.

All of that was in the nonexistent past.

Instead he had wanted to join the army, to be out in the world actually making a difference.

Some difference he made.

He didn’t regret his decision, no. He had met a lot of amazing people, saved a lot of them, been saved by a lot of them.

And he’d met Jack. Even though they started out practically hating each other and only actually known each other for a few months, Mac felt like they’d known each other for years. It was like his friendship with Bozer, but it also didn’t feel right calling Jack just a friend. Bozer was Mac’s brother in every way but blood. Jack was like a brother forged through blood.

He hated that he wouldn’t see either of them again.

Mac didn’t know if the other guys were thinking something similar. No one really did much talking besides saying they were going to try to get some sleep. The third day, the older one had finally said what was on his mind.

“Sorry you got roped into this Specialist. We, uh, we know what’ll most likely happen in coming time. I’m under the impression that you’ve never been in this type of situation, so you might not be able to handle the types of things they’ll do in order to get information. Worse for you since you’re EOD. So me and Rob, we’ll try to keep their attention on us if anything happens so you have a chance to get away. We’ve been through this song and dance before, and a guy as young as you shouldn’t have to go through the torture. If you see a chance, we want you to take it.”

Mac’s heart had dropped, not at the mention of torture, but the fact that both of those men were willing to put themselves in harms way and possibly die to give him a chance to escape. That’s not how he wanted things to go. He shouldn’t be the only one that ended up getting out of there.

“I can— I can finish all this.” He was a bit startled by the quiver in his own voice. He reached into his boot and pulled out a small detonator. “I don’t think they’ve found anything that was set, and even if they did, even if all but one had been disarmed, it can set off a chain reaction taking everything down like originally planned.”

He wanted to vomit at the thought. Not for himself but the other two men that were with him. If it were just him, he would’ve done it sooner. Given he was with people, he didn’t want to do it at all, maybe save it as a last ditch effort when they escaped, but hearing what they’d gone through, and what methods would be used, detonating everything would be rather quick.

The two of them had ultimately agreed, and they decided it would happen in two days.

Day four had passed by too slow, and day five had gotten there too fast. Mac had been the one to take the radio that day, the other guys not having a problem with it. So he called, and he knew without a doubt that Jack was waiting by the radio to hear from him.

“Hey Jack.”

“Yeah hoss. I’m here. Whatcha need?”

“You and Bozer— you two would get along well. Sorry I won’t be there to introduce you.” He tried to keep his voice calm and steady despite the fact his eyes were stinging with unshed tears.

“What’re you talkin about Mac?” There was a tone in Jack’s voice, one Mac hadn’t ever heard from him before. “We’re gonna get you and the other guys outta there.”

“You heard him Jack. If there’s any movement of you coming their direction, they’re just gonna kill us. We— we’ve already talked amongst ourselves, and decided our course of action.” He hated himself. He hated his plan. He hated how he felt back into a corner with nowhere else to go.

A man had entered the room, making a grabbing gesture for the radio in Mac’s hands, but the two other guys had stopped him, pushed him away despite the gun that was on his back.

The families of the two soldiers would want their bodies, so mac told Jack where to find them as he pulled the detonator out of his boot.

“It’s a small building on the right about two thirds of the way down the main center street.”

“Mac, whatever yer gonna do—”

“I’m sorry Jack—” Mac couldn’t hear any reply if there was one. He couldn’t hear the scuffle or gunfire happening mere feet from him. All he heard was the high pitched whine from the detonator being armed, then the beep then the button had been pressed.

***

Mac wasn’t afraid of dying, and he wasn’t afraid of the way he would go. He was afraid that the thing would fail, that he and the others would somehow live through it and still be held captive. He was afraid that all the explosives that were set were all disarmed. He was afraid that he would be spared the horrendous future but the other two wouldn’t be. Mac was afraid his failure would lead to more horrible things.

So when he cracked opened his eyes ever so slightly and realized that he was still very much alive, he panicked.

He didn’t recognize where he was or any of the people around him. There were pains in his hands and wrists, nor could he move them much, so it meant he had been bound somewhere. There was a smell of chemicals filling the air, so he was meant to be experimented on. And there was a pressure on his face that made it difficult for him to talk, so he’d been gagged as well so no one could hear his cries.

Then there were hands on him. Too many. He was being restricted. He didn’t want to be there. He wanted to leave, to be back at his base, back home with Bozer. He didn’t want to die on some experiment table somewhere in the Afghanistan desert.

Another hand had gone on him, large and callused. A voice accompanied it.

“Ya need to calm down. These people ain’t lookin to hurt you. They’re stoppin you from hurtin yerself.”

Mac knew that voice, but couldn’t see where it was coming from.

“Just listen to me. Yer gonna be okay. All these people have made sure of it. Ya just need some rest. I’ll be right here the whole time so ya don’t got nothin to worry about.”

The struggling slowly stopped and the hands left his person.

“That’s it. Just listen to me. Ain’t nothin gonna happen to ya. I gotcha. You just go back to sleep.”

It was that drawl that put him at ease. Only being able to hear Jack at that moment was enough to calm him down. Not like he had the strength to look around or even open his eyes more than the crack they were; everything he was looking at was a blur anyways. But knowing that Jack was nearby in any case, drained all the fight out of him, and he was able to drift back to sleep.

***

The next time he awoke was both somehow more and less pleasant than the first. He didn’t wake up in a blind panic, but there was a somewhat overwhelming amount of general soreness and specific pain.

He opened his eyes, blinking away the feeling of heaviness that still had its hold, and was surprised when he saw he was in a room. An actual room, in a building, and not a section of a tent. There were medical machines to his side, which explained the constant beep that was making itself known in his ears, and IVs going into either arm. His left hand and going up his forearm, stopping just before the IV, was wrapped in bandages. He didn’t have the energy to try to move anything to get a better look at himself, but figured there were a lot more bandages than just his arms.

Then the door opened, and Mac’s sleep ridden eyes landed on Jack as he shuffled his way into the room.

He was haggard; looked like he hadn’t slept or had a decent meal in days, which, knowing Jack when it came to anything related to Mac’s safety, was probably true. Mac couldn’t count the times he’d been injured to warrant staying in med then waking up and Jack was there, because it was nearly every time. Every time he put his own well-being on the back burner to keep a silent vigil over Mac to make sure he was alright.

And that’s exactly what had happened that time, because Jack had stepped through the door and gone for a chair and hadn’t even noticed mac was looking at him.

“You look like shit.”

Mac nearly laughed at the face Jack made. Like a deer in the headlights. But he was out of the chair and by Mac’s side in a second.

“Hey. How ya feelin?” Jack had sounded just as bad as Mac did.

“Sore overall. Where are we?”

“Hospital in Kabul. You and the other boys… you were in it pretty bad.”

“They’re okay? The other two guys I was with?”

“Bout as okay as you are right now, though they woke up sooner than you if that says anythin.” Jack let out a sigh. “I ain’t gonna lie hoss, you really scared me this time.”

“Jack—”

He held up a hand. “I don’t want yer apology. The other guys filled us in on what happened. I know you were doin what y’all agreed so you could escape but… the way we found all of ya, gonna be somethin I won’t be able to get outta my head for a while. So pardon me if I’m a bit clingy.”

There was a pit in Mac’s stomach that just seemed to get deeper at Jack’s words. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious of the whole thing, but he didn’t know if he would be able to handle seeing Jack recount the whole thing of how they were found.

“What, uh, what’s my damage? How long have I been out?”

“Today’s day six. Ya woke up two days ago, but you were pretty out of it and went back to sleep after a bit. Long list short is yer ankle’s busted, few ribs to go along with it, lots of scrapes and cuts, bruised to high hell and back, probably a concussion, and ya needed stitches in a few separate places, but the doc says yer gonna make a full recovery if ya stay on bed rest and take yer meds like yer supposed to.”

Mac nodded and settled into his pillow. Everything appeared to be superficial and he’d be fine after a couple weeks.

“The doctor has me on low dose sedatives for sleep, don’t they?” Jack nodded. “I have you to thank for that, don’t I?”

“I may have said somethin bout you always bein up and about.”

“Will you do something for me before I pass out then?”

“Anythin ya need.”

“Will you go and rest before you end up in a bed next to me? You look as bad as I feel.”

Jack snorted and shook his head. “Leave it to you to be worryin bout others while yer in that state.”

“I’ll fight the sedatives until you promise me you’ll get some sleep. You know I’m capable of it.”

“Yeah, yeah I do. Okay hoss, I’ll skedaddle outta here and tell the doc how yer doin if ya promise me ya won’t fight those meds.”

“I’d raise my pinky to promise but I’m honestly too exhausted.”

“I’ll take it. Get some rest.”

“Goodnight Jack.”

“Goodnight hoss.”