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Mac hated those calls.
He and Jack had been given weekend passes to spend somewhere off base. They were looking forward to it; Jack hadn’t remembered the last time he was able to leave without it being to another base or being stuck somewhere for a while, and Mac had actually never been, not because he never got passes, but he never really had a need to, or anyone to accompany him. Not that he needed anyone to, but being alone in a foreign country and not having a decent enough grasp on the language wasn’t on top of his to do list.
“Whaddya mean you’ve never been? Command just hate you and take yer passes and give them to someone else?”
“That was more or less me. I just— never really cared about it. When I did get them I traded them for things other guys had. And a lot of the times they’d bring me back something as a thanks.”
“You ain’t givin this one away. We’re goin to one of the big military hangout spot; good food and drinks, a pool, and if you know the right people you can get a decent room for cheap.”
“And you just happen to know the right people?”
“Matter a fact I do.”
Besides the fact that Mac didn’t have local currency, at least not more than a few bills, he was excited to have a day where he could more or less relax for a while. Jack apparently had contacts that could get them whatever they wanted while they were there, and he seemed eager to treat Mac to whatever he could.
That was the general plan, until the night before they were supposed to go.
“The hell you mean our passes are cancelled?” Jack barked at the staff sergeant. “We’ve been lookin forward to this all week. You know how long it’s been since I’ve been off base? Hell, Mac ain’t ever been off base and yer takin away his one chance.”
“Calm down Dalton. This isn’t my decision.” The sergeant said, paying no mind to Jack’s raised voice.
“Who’s decision is it then?”
“Even if I tell you and you try this shit on him, it’s not going to change anything.”
“Why did it?” Mac asked. “It’s not often that our schedules get changed around a lot.”
“All I know is there’s been reports of weird IEDs and you specifically were asked to take care of the issue.” He huffed. “Sorry, I know this sucks. If everything goes right, you two will have your passes for next week.”
“Yeah, sure, like that’ll ever happen.” Jack scoffed as he and Mac were dismissed, and practically stomped his way back to the bunks. “You know, I should go find out who call this. Tell them they suck and use my favors to get us back out tomorrow.”
“You’re just going to get yourself thrown in the guardhouse for talking back to a superior officer, then they’ll still send me out to deal with whatever it is without you.”
“Like hell they would. If they just wanted you then they’d still let me go off base tomorrow.”
“And you’d still go?”
“What kinda guy do you take me for? Think I’d just go have fun without you? Where’d the fun be in that?”
Mac rolled his eyes. “Well it’s too late to change anything. Let’s just get it done and go through the week until we’re actually able to leave.”
***
“Y’know, not that I’m complainin, but, I thought it was just us goin out for this thing. Why the hell are you two here?”
Mac shook his head at Jack’s words as they walked through the town. They’d been briefed on what they were expected to find; an IED that wasn’t necessarily complicated, but was more or less given the description of a lot. A team the previous day had dealt with one in the same vicinity, documenting and taking pictures of it before intimately detonating it with very little actual defusal. Apparently the brass didn’t appreciate not trying to disarm it. Mac’s affinity to disarm and completely take apart everything he came across was the main reason he was requested to take care of it.
But at that moment, he was in the same boat as Jack, wondering why Joe and Patrick had been sent out with them.
“Well fuck you too Dalton.” Joe said, head on a swivel just like Mac. “Thought this was going to be some nice, quality time together— maybe we get to know each other a little better, find out our similar hobbies, you know, form that cliché unbreakable bond that’s in every single army film and movie.”
“Is he alright?” Mac nudged to ask Patrick.
“He’s supposed to be on a call with his wife for their kid’s birthday. Been a long time and he’s pissed. Not that I blame him— I had plans too.”
“Like…?”
“You know, catching up on sleep, maybe seeing the soap opera they keep playing for the twenty-seventh time. I heard you two got your weekend passes yoinked. Think you’re the ones who should be more pissed in this situation.”
A shrug. “I don’t know what I’m missing out on so I don’t really care that much. I mean Jack told me, but I really don’t think it’s such a big deal. Come to think of it, I never really went out while I was at MIT either. My roommate dragged me to a party or two, but I always just preferred to stay in.”
“To each their own I guess, but, on the chance that you get another pass any time soon, I’d be more than happy to take it.”
They kept walking for a little while longer, the small amount of villagers keeping their distance, until Mac finally caught sight of what he thought was the IED. Jack and Patrick had taken separate nest areas while Mac and Joe started assessing what they were dealing with.
“Gonna be honest, never seen something that complex before.” Joe’s face scrunched as he got a look at it. “But I get why the other just seemed to detonate it, and why you specifically were asked to deal with it.”
Mac’s own face held a frown. “I’ve seen something like this before. Day of a thousand IEDs while working with Charlie.”
“That’s good then, right? Means you’ll be able to disarm it relatively quick.”
“No, not for this one.” He got on the radio. “Jack, you guys might wanna make yourselves comfortable where you are. This is going to take much longer than originally anticipated.”
“Longer by regular standards or longer by yer standards?”
“Much longer than my standards.”
“Finally found something challenging, Hollywood?” Patrick asked, slight humor in his tone.
“This might be The Ghost.” There was no humor in Mac’s reply, and the quiet following his answer somehow sealed the idea of how actually serious it was. “This doesn’t completely match the complexity of the one I’ve seen in the past, but judging by how actually complex it is, I don’t think it was made by anyone run-of-the-mill. Just looking at it now I can see three failsafes, and if this is actually from him, then there’s probably more that we’ll have to work to see.”
“Want me to call it in? Tell the big man of the possibility and maybe get some guys to look at the other things?” Jack asked after a momentary silence.
“Yeah, at least let them know who we might be dealing with. Probably have a few guys try to cross reference, but the only people who really dealt with these types of devices are me and Charlie, and we don’t know if he’s available to help out.”
“You just worry bout gettin that thing disarmed. I’ll get all the info.”
Mac exhaled deeply, turning to Joe so they could get started. The look on the other’s face had him confused. “What?”
“Nothing, just thinking I’ve never actually seen you work in the field. Not really what I expected.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just with Dalton saying how you disarm using, I don’t know, duct tape and a rock, I guess I figured it would be more— pronounced.”
A quiet snort. “That’s your own fault because I know I tell everyone what I actually do and that you shouldn’t listen to Jack.”
They started working, slowly peeling away the outside cover to get a better handle on what they were working with. Joe had been making notes of everything he saw and everything that happened while Mac was more or less the actual one having hands on and defusing the thing. It wasn’t a regular thing for him, having another tech be on the ground, but it wasn’t a completely new concept. Having a second pair of hands and eyes always proved fruitful in the end.
When a the first hour bled well into the second, there was something in the IED that caught Mac’s eye that he hadn’t seen before.
“Hey, what do you make of this?” He shined his light on a covering for some wires, a two etched crudely onto it.
Joe looked, the situated himself to try and see under it. “Got me. The thing just looks like an unnecessary housing cover. It’s soldered on but it’s not actually touching anything; wires are just hanging loosely under it. The number could just be from whatever scrap they used.”
Mac hoped that was what it was, but bombs like that always had something bigger going on with them, and if that was from The Ghost, then it was definitely anything but an unimportant piece of scrap.
It took another hour before it was finally disabled. Everything Mac had taken off was separated, bagged, and tagged for reference in the future. The cruel explosive part itself was placed in a secure container for later disposal.
“Shit, you mean you do this on the regular? I know it’s my job to sit for how ever long it takes for the job to get done but damn.” Patrick said, stretching and shaking his limbs. “Joe what’s your longest disarm? Half hour maybe?”
“I don’t keep track.”
“I got an idea.” Jack said. “Why don’t we pack it up and get back? We can argue through radios the whole way.”
***
“I don’t get it. The concept of them are extremely similar and a lot of the materials used are high end and not just scrap, but the explosive itself is different. The chemical balance and composure is completely wrong and mismatched.” Mac leaned back in his chair, pushing components out of the way on the desk he was sat at.
“So— this isn’t The Ghost then.” Jack said. “That’s good, right?”
“I don’t know! If it is The Ghost then he’s changing his MO and trying to keep us from finding him, but in classic cases of serial bombers the only thing that changes is the time spent between making and setting them off, usually always speeding up. If it’s not The Ghost, then someone else out there has extensive knowledge of chemistry and mathematics and is putting it to no good use.”
“In all fairness, this ain’t a classic case of a serial bomber. This is a war zone.”
“I know, which is why it’s difficult to decide one way or another.”
“Look, you’ve been here every day whenever we get back, wrackin yer brain over tryin to find out if this is Casper or not. I know ya wanted to give the big man an answer before we left, but I just don’t see that happenin. And it ain’t yer fault neither. Ain’t in yer job description.”
“It’s literally my job to deal with IEDs.”
“Not like this. If it was then all the other EODs would be doin the same. Now, tomorrow is the last day until we can finally head out for some relaxation, and they were kind enough to give us an off day, so really get a three day weekend. I know yer gonna be in here all day tomorrow, but at least try and relax a bit tomorrow so we can actually relax while we’re gone, alright?”
Mac huffed, his head hanging back off the chair. “I just can’t get my head to shut up. There has to be something.”
“Maybe there’s not cuz this ain’t The Ghost.” Jack crossed his arms. “Maybe this is just another crazy kook who’s poppin up who’s tryin to give you a run for yer money. Whatever the deal, yer not gonna figure it out tonight, at least not when yer barely an hour of rest after comin back.” He clapped Mac on his shoulder. “Take a break for a little at least, then work until lights out.”
“Okay, just— give me a sec to at least order everything, then I’ll be out.”
“You better. If I have to come back in here, I’ll drag you out by yer ears.”
It wasn’t an empty threat, Mac knew that for sure because it had happened on several previous occasions. He had to at least get something to eat so he could think straight. He quickly piled the papers and headed out.
He’d actually gone to the canteen to get something, not intending to sit and eat, but rather get a bit of everything in a cup and just sort of eat while he was on the hunt for more information. Really, he knew he had to avoid his previous workspace for nearly half an hour because anytime in that frame, Jack would definitely go back and pull him away.
So he went to storage, or junk storage, to ask to see all the pieces of the IED he brought back and whatever bits were left of the IEDs that got detonated by the other team. There was really only one piece he was looking for to see if his barely-making-sense-hunch was right.
He didn’t expect much while going through everything; there wasn’t even really a lot to look through with the other one since it had been detonated, but thankfully he did find the piece he was looking for, or at least most of it. He couldn’t tell exactly, but what was left looked like it also had a number etched on it, possibly a one or four. It was enough to solidify his hunch into something more, so Mac went to get some more information so further his hunch.
***
Mac wasn’t where Jack had left him, which could go either way. Mac had enough sense to know that Jack would actually check on him periodically and actually drag him away from his work if necessary. Jack had been keeping a tally at how many times it actually happened and didn’t want to add another mark.
But Mac wasn’t there, which means he could’ve been taking a break— but Mac wasn’t in the canteen, or bunks, or any of his regular spots when he needed to clear his head. So, ultimately, Mac wasn’t taking a break, and was actively avoiding Jack, subconsciously or not.
So Jack had been walking around the base checking all of the places Mac went to work, asking everyone nearby if they’d seen him in the past hour with no luck.
To say he was a bit surprised and confused when Mac was sitting on his bunk was a bit of an understatement.
“Well, this sure is surprisin.” Jack crossed his arms. “I checked all yer normal spots and it turns out yer right here. What’re you doin?”
“Working.” Mac didn’t look up from the papers.
“Don’t bother, Jack. He’s been sitting there for the good part of an hour and hasn’t said more than two words to anyone.” Joe said, flipping through a book. “Don’t think you of all people need to be told what he’s like when he gets like that; didn’t even want my help for anything.”
Jack walked to their shared bunk, picking up a paper to see what Mac was working on, only to have said man snatch it back, placing it exactly where Jack took it from.
“Don’t touch.”
Jack, in turn, rolled his eyes, settling for just looking at everything.
“Those reports from other bases? They all got the same type of IEDs that you dealt with?”
“Yeah.”
Jack went for a paper again, not grabbing it but just seeing how many there were. “Seems a bit excessive. There’s, what, a dozen of them?”
“Seventeen, from five different bases, ours included.” Mac stopped and looked at him. “Anything else?”
Jack raised his hands in defeat. “Someone’s a little cranky.”
“Well I knew you’d be searching for me after the first time and I knew I wouldn’t be able to get anything done with you trying to pull me away, so I decided to just get it done here, but this hardly does a desk justice.”
“Yeah, that’s because it’s yer bed, where yer supposed to sleep and not do work.”
“Sacred areas Macgyver; you’re breaking the no work in the barracks rule.” Someone called out. “If I hear papers rustling tonight while I’m trying to sleep, I won’t hesitate.”
Mac rolled his eyes, but did end up gathering all the papers into a pile and placed them in his bag for the night. “You’re lucky I can’t keep information orderly here.”
“Yeah, sure.” Jack snorted. “Now how’s about you get a good night sleep and eat a hardy breakfast tomorrow before you run yer brain ragged on that stuff, huh?”
“Dalton you’re like a dad trying to control a child; first let’s do this then we can do that. I would know, I am a dad.”
***
Truth be told, Mac did actually sleep through most of the night, and even sat and ate with Jack in the morning before gathering his papers and going to a relatively secluded area. He debated if he should’ve asked Doc Roe if he could work in med because that was the least chaotic place on the base currently. He went into the place that was their would-be theater that played the same three movies every week. It was mostly empty, save for a few guys sitting and talking. Mac had seen fit to utilize the table that was used for the projector.
He hoped Jack meant it when he said the whole day would be spent on working on it, meaning Jack wouldn’t pull him away to take breaks or get food. Ultimately, he would do it on his own when the time called for it. Maybe. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d forgone food and breaks, mainly because time always got away from him. When he was focused on a project, he saw only that for hours on end, fatigue never really hitting him until the sun started to set or Jack finding him and pointing out how long he’d been working. The makeshift movie theater wasn’t one of his regular spots though, so he was using that to his advantage that it would take longer for Jack to find him.
Mac organized the papers by base, drawing up a mock grid system for each to show where in their quadrants each IED was found. Initially, with the two that his base had come across, he figured each IED would correspond with a number that he found, but much like the first one from his base, none of the others were intact enough to tell, and none of the reports mentioned anything about specific numbering, so that theory had to go out the window.
He instead turned to plotting the generalized location of each IED, which led to each base having its own small cluster of them each a few miles apart. He then placed each location to relevant locations they would be on a map to see if there was something in the bigger overall picture. Each IED was in relative proximity to each other and the base they were reported at, and each base was in completely different sectors.
That was really as far as he got and had been staring at the paperwork for the last few hours, trying to find anything that would explain what was going on in the long run. There wasn’t anything significant about the places they were found or who found them, and there didn’t seem to be a pattern of when they were found either. The only real connection between any of them without all his extra work was the reports given by the EODs, stating the complexity of them. His makeshift map didn’t show anything either, merely just restating information he already had.
It was annoying, and to be Frank, Mac was a bit glad when someone had more or less kicked him out so they could set up for a movie. He gathered everything and decided to just head to bunks and take a break. It was passed lunch, and no doubt Jack was looking for him to force him into a meal, but the frustration of not finding anything took away his appetite.
There were a handful of guys in the bunks, mostly keeping to their own. No one really paid him much kind as he shoves the papers into his pack and hopped onto his own bunk, laying facedown with a pillow over his head.
He didn’t know if he actually fell asleep or not, won’t in that weird state of shutting his eyes for a second seemed to make time pass at a rate that shouldn’t have been possible. Each time his eyes opened, the pillow was still over his head but the voices and volume around his changed. He wondered how many more times it had to happen before Jack’s got added to the mix.
Oddly enough, Jack wasn’t the one to disturb him, but a private that had been sent to look for him and happened to be lucky enough to find Mac him a normal place.
“Specialist MacGyver, they want to see you in comms, sir.”
Mac had only ever been called sir a handful of times in his life, and most of them were from the few times he went out to eat. He held the same rank as a Corporal, having only three ranks below him that would even warrant it, but hardly anyone really cared, not to mention no one had any identification on their fatigues. Nonetheless, Mac assumed they wanted to talk about what he’d found out, or in that case the significant lack of what he found out. He gathered all the papers and information and made his way to the communication tent.
“What do you have for me, MacGyver?” Communication Officer McKinnley said. “They’re busting my balls so I think it’s only fair I bust yours.”
“I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart. It’s not on me if you don’t get the information they want.”
Mac liked McKinnley. They’ve worked together to map out locations of insurgent camps based on the information Mac could pull from the literal rubble of IEDs. He was probably one of the only officers that he had a relationship with where he could call him his first name and not be reprimanded for it, just like Jack’s relationships with nearly every superior officer. Not to mention, he was only other guy that went by Mack, even if spelt different.
“Breaking my heart over here. Yesterday and today and you got nothing? Am I going to be known as the man that finally stumped the great MacGyver?”
Mac shrugged. “I was able to find groupings of everything and generalized locations, but other than that I got nothing. Since they were so already outside of their relative groups, there’s no real way to find which direction they’re coming from. Unless you want to explain to the higher-ups from multiple camps and try to get teams send out in every direction in hopes of finding something, this might be the end right now.”
“Sure, you do all the easy stuff and leave me to deliver the bad news. I see how it is. Don’t expect any favors in the future.”
“I don’t think I need to tell you that this is my day off and I could’ve left you with even less info than what’s there. As a matter of fact, I was actually getting ready to settle and take a nap when your private found me.”
McKinnley shuffled through the papers. “I honestly figured something like that with how quick you got here.” He glanced at Mac. “Everything looks as organized and labeled as it’ll get, for you I mean. I guess that means I get to work on my MacGyver to Normal Army Speak translation for a while. Go on then, have fun on your little vacation tomorrow.”
“I look forward to seeing what you find upon my return, sir.”
Mac left the comm tent, smirking as he heard a smartass upon exiting. He didn’t make it back to the bunks before Jack found him.
“Alright genius. It’s nearly dinner and I just got a feelin you ain’t eat anythin besides that sorry excuse for a breakfast this mornin. No more work until you got a tray piled high then put away.”
Mac rolled his eyes as Jack ushered him towards the mess tent. “I think you’ll be surprised to know I’m finished working.”
“No kiddin? Sorry to say I don’t believe ya, since that brain of yers is always workin on somethin. What’d ya find out bout the IEDs?”
“Honestly not much. I was able to find the grouping and sub-grouping, but other than that— nothing. There wasn’t anything to indicate where they came from or why they were being placed where they were. If there was a bigger picture or something, I wasn’t able to see it.”
Jack laid the back of his hand I’m Mac’s forehead. “Yer kinda warm. Think ya might be getting sick? Ain’t like you to just give up on somethin.”
Mac smacked his hand away. “We’re in the desert and it’s nearly a hundred degrees. Everyone feels warm. And I’m not giving up. I just need to wait for more information to come up, or take a break and let everything I know settle and take a look later with fresh eyes. Besides, McKinnley called, I didn’t offer. Maybe he can figure out something I can’t.”
“I think yer just workin too much and not takin breaks as often as you should, if at all. Or yer excited bout finally leavin tomorrow and yer head can’t focus. Lotta guys get antsy like that when goin to hang off base for a few days. But, all yer work is done for now, yeah? Let’s go get you somethin to eat, maybe watch some of the guys get their asses handed to them I’m hand to hand after.”
***
“Whaddya think? Pretty sweet right?”
Mac’s head was on a swivel ever since they arrived at their destination; a bustling city with civilians and soldiers mingling without a care in the world. It had been a few outs away, more of an oasis in the vastness of the desert, with much more modernized buildings and technology. A handful of cars that looked relatively new in comparison to all the others he’d seen in the towns and villages he saw day to day, and the size of the city itself was more than double Mac had seen before. The sheer amount of people there as just like how it back back in the states.
“Yeah, it’s definitely something.”
“I was pretty surprised first time I saw it too. This is one of the larger cities in development. I know some folks here have connections and they’re using it to better everythin for everyone. Built on quite a bit since the last time I was here.”
“How many bases use it as a vacation spot?”
“Five that I know of; near smack dab in the middle of them, our own included. You bring anythin you don’t wanna carry round all day? We can go stash it at our lodgins. Don’t gotta worry bout it getting rummaged through. Lotta the houses function as sleepin arrangements, and the others as restaurants. I bunk with the same family every time I’m here. They do a real good job as makin sure yer stuff stays where you put it.”
“Not really. I only brought a change of clothes.”
“Yeah I didn’t bring much either. Still, I wanna go find them; make it known I’m here and we need two places to sleep.”
Mac kept scanning the area as Jack led them through the streets. All the soldiers there looked the same with minor differences in what they wore, or at least how they wore their fatigues. Some guys were in full uniform, and when he saw the insignia for private on their sleeves, he assumed it was their first time off base as well and didn’t know how to dress. Mac would’ve been in the same boat as them if Jack hadn’t told him to dress down for the occasion, that there weren’t really ranks there.
Jack led him to a house that doubled as a storefront and greeted the man there with a hardy handshake before he introduced Mac.The man, Lutfi, shook Mac’s hand, gesturing for both of them to enter the house, only for Jack to decline, saying they were going to see what and who was around before settling in.
“Is he who you meant when you said you had connections?” Mac asked.
“Pretty much. He’s one of the guys that helped streamline the city’s construction and renovation into what you see now, and set forth the idea for it to become a vacation shop for soldiers. I mean as far as an idea like that goes; really just treatin everyone good and the whole thing spreadin by word of mouth.” Jack said. “Also alotta information goes through channels here; got their own little ring of informants that meet teams to relay what they find.”
“I was gonna say, he spoke English fairly well…” Mac got a chill thinking about it. A place that had ties to the United States military and their own way of getting and passing along information was powerful, and dangerous. Not necessarily the people involved, but the city itself. It made Mac think of it being a giant target. It wasn’t like the people there could arm themselves, at least not enough, and most of not all the soldiers there merely had their side weapons with them and that was it.
“Majority of people do, mainly all the kids that are runnin around. Anyways, lemme take ya to the main hubbub for food and socializin.”
***
Mac had a decent buzz going. He couldn’t remember the last time he had something to drink, considering he wasn’t legal before he joined up. It as probably before he shipped out, when Bozer had gotten a bottle as a celebratory going away gift. They drank out on the deck with Harry, the older man even bringing out his own bottle he had for special occasions and pouring them each a glass.
Sitting with Jack and all the other guys, they were drinking either cheap beer or something the locals made themselves; some sort of malt something that Mac didn’t really care for in the least, and had all the other guys laugh at him when he took a sip and spit it out, teasing that it must have been his first time ever drinking in the first place. Jack had cackled and nearly fell out of his seat when Mac tried to describe a memory of him getting blackout drunk when he went home for a weekend, but didn’t remember anything besides waking up in his empty bathtub with a few dozen rubber ducks covering him. Bozer had sworn he didn’t take any pictures of the incident, though Mac knew there was something he didn’t let on to.
Nonetheless, Mac was speaking with a few other guys about whatever while Jack was having a seemingly heated conversation with another Texan guy.
“So let me get this straight— you skipped a grade in elementary, took college level courses in high school, got a full ride to MIT, and you choose to join the army?” A guy from the northern most base asked.
“Well it sounds idiotic when you put it like that.” Mac scrunched his face slightly. He knew his opinion and decisions weren’t exactly the best, but his reasons made them worth it.
“No, no I understand I think— you wanna make us intellectually challenged guys look even worse off.” One from a south base added.
“He doesn’t need to do anything to help you with that, Marv.” Another chimed in, making everyone in the surrounding area laugh.
It was an odd feeling. He was having a genuinely good time just sitting around and talking with people about nothing in particular. He couldn’t remember the last time feeling like that either. There was always something to do, to worry or stress about. He was in a literal battlefield, and yet he felt so completely content with everything at that moment.
“If it makes you fellas feel any better, he can’t cook for shit.” Jack said, coming out of his own conversation. “And— he failed biology in school.”
“I told you before, I didn’t fail. I got a C.” Mac laughed. “It’s not like I didn’t understand it. My teacher had a weird way of teaching it and didn’t like when I found a simpler way to explain everything.”
“Oh so now the teacher had it out for ya. Classic excuse.”
“I don’t care about your biology stats. I want to know about your disarm stats.” One guy said. “Swear to god I’ve heard your name before and how you’re a supposed and fucking infamously amazing tech who’s never had to detonate anything. How much truth is there to all that I’ve heard?”
“They’re always blown out of proportion.” Mac rolled his eyes at Jack’s laugh of the unintended pun. “My first two years here I was detonating an IED at least once a week, if not more.”
“Ah— he’s leavin out the part where his watches made him cuz they were bored and wanted to head back.” Jack added.
“In the time I’ve been partnered with Jack, I’ve only had— half a dozen? I haven’t really been keeping track of it, but it’s been when we’re called back, or we needed to leave the area in a hurry.”
“Don’t forget bout the times where ya literally couldn’t do anythin cuz of outside problems. There was that time with the snake— then all the other times where ya shouldn’t have been made to work and nearly died on circumstance alone.”
“Techs always almost die on circumstance alone.”
“Normal techs would speak up if they were sick, or had heatstroke, or if their heads were killin them. Hell, no other tech would be so against leavin base for a while. Tearin you away from whatever you were workin on was like pullin teeth.”
Mac rolled his eyes, listening to Jack list off his apparent flaws while also counteracting them with all the apparent amazing ways he got out of situations where it would’ve been ultimate death for anyone else, starting off with how he saved Jack’s life after disarming the IED he triggered in Kabul, and going on about the day of a thousand IEDs.
Mac’s eyes had been closed, content with the familiar sounds of everyone talking around him, a fire crackling, and a quiet tune of a radio from somewhere in the distance. It reminded him of when he was younger, when Bozer would be over and they’d lay on the deck with the fire pit going and just look at the night sky. It was a calm he didn’t know he missed of wanted back, and it was strange feeling that in a desert that served as a war zone.
“Okay bud, think it’s time for us to turn on for the night.” Jack’s tone was soft but commanding as he clapped Mac on the shoulder. “Looks like yer fittin to sleep out here all night if I let ya.”
Mac opened his eyes and didn’t realize how much time had passed. The group they were sitting with had dwindled to less than six guys, most remaining looking like they were fighting off sleep as well. He didn’t think he fell asleep though, blaming the whole ordeal on the few drinks he had.
“Didn’t think you’d be such a lightweight. Come on, up ya go.”
He didn’t fight Jack helping him to his feet or letting him lead the way to where they were staying. He knew he would have to convince Jack that he wasn’t actually a lightweight in the morning, say something to the effect of him being stressed about the work he had been doing and that was heavily adding to why he was nearly passing out. He also knew Jack would tease him about it and say they’d have to test it when they got back stateside with some real drinks.
It wasn’t long at all before they arrived at their housing, Lufti welcoming them in and showing them where they could sleep; a simple room with two separate areas of padding that would serve as their beds. He wasn’t complaining. In all the time he’d been in the desert, all the houses and buildings he’s gone through, there weren’t ever actual beds, not really. He saw maybe a handful of actual beds in his three years there, and more often than not did seeing them give him the creeps. There in that building though, in his apparent drunken state of kind, being able to lay on anything soft sounded amazing.
“We’ll see if ya feel this in the mornin. I’ll be back in a sec. You just conk out.”
That was the best advice Jack gave him all day, and falling asleep came rather easy for him.
But it didn’t stay.
Mac thought he was dreaming for a moment, yet another nightmare that was becoming a regular occurrence. The sounds of explosions echoing around him and the screaming and yelling of people was something that always haunted him, bringing him from a deep sleep to immediate attention.
That’s what had happened; Mac being awoken by screaming and yelling and explosions immediately wiped out any evidence he had been drinking just a few hours ago, and with him being painfully sober helped him realize that he wasn’t dreaming, he wasn’t having another nightmare; the screaming and yelling and explosions were all around him, and the panic tried to start settling in.
Jack wasn’t with him, wasn’t in the opposite bed he was given.
The ringing in his ears and throbbing in his head made him slow to get up from where he was, and when the wall suddenly exploded, sending large and small chunks of debris both into and around him, it was like everything was being actively fast forwarded and slowed down.
He lost seconds, or minutes, it could’ve been even longer for all he knew, as pieces slammed into his head. He was laying on the ground for moments, feeling what he knew was blood sliding down his head and arms, before pushing himself up to where he thought the door was, tripping on several other large pieces of debris that was the building. He didn’t know if he found the actual door but within moments he was leaning on the side of a half crumbled wall looking out at the destruction that had engulfed the city.
Buildings were all but destroyed, carts and stalls were ablaze—
And there were bodies littering the streets.
Soldiers. Men. Women. Children. Bloodied and broken.
Everyone else was shouting, running to escape whatever was happening; pulling along their injured comrades as though it was the only thing to do.
No one paid him any mind.
Mac wiped the blood from his eyes, wishing himself that it really was just a horrid nightmare, and Jack would pull him out of it like he had several times before.
The seconds ticked away, and Mac stood waiting to wake up.
And the moment someone slammed into him, he thought he did. That when he would open his eyes that he’d be back in his bunk with Jack looking at him with a worried expression. And in all fairness, it was Jack looking at him with a worried expression, but he was covered in dirt and small scratches, brandishing his sidearm and speaking to him in a rushed tone. Not that Mac could hear anything that was being said. The ringing in his ears wasn’t just stopping any sound from coming through, but also caused an immersive sense of dizziness.
“Can’t hear you.” He didn’t even know if he said it loud enough for Jack to hear him, or if he said it at all. He closed his eyes and leaned more heavily on the broken wall, wishing for the world to stop spinning. A definite concussions to add on to the list of his injuries. It was taking most of his strength to not slide down and sit.
He felt Jack looking him over, brushing hands through his hair until they came to a sensitive spot, causing Mac to flinch, before they were pulled away. One had gone under his chin to keep his face up and forward, and Mac cracked his eyes open to be face to face with Jack, who held an extremely worried frown of his own. He was still speaking, but Mac couldn’t focus enough to try and read his lips, instead giving a half shake and pointing to his ears.
A hand found it’s way to the back of his shirt, leading him from the building and out into the calamity of the streets. Nearly every step made him stumble, and he had to focus on not vomiting when Jack stopped suddenly and knelt down. In seconds, Mac was slung across his shoulders, bouncing slightly as Jack ran. He wanted to tell Jack to put him down, that he could manage, because the whole of it, despite the current situation, made him feel like an unnecessary burden, but he also knew he wouldn’t get two steps before collapsing.
He could feel Jack huffing out breaths at each step, occasionally yelling something either at him or someone else, and it was all he could focus on to not vomit down Jack’s side.
He might’ve lost more time, minutes or seconds, but he was placed down, his back against what felt like a wheel, Jack once again cupping his chin to make him look up. It took a moment for Mac to actually open and get his eyes focused, but that he could register what Jack was saying, both by the moment of his lips and from his hearing slowly coming back.
“Are you alright?”
Jack said it slow, enunciated the words so Mac could understand. He gave a slow nod, his eyes focusing on Jack’s to convey he actually understood what was asked.
“Can you hear me?”
“Not completely.” Again, he didn’t trust himself to have actually said the words out loud, but by the look on Jack’s face, he figured he succeeded. “What happened?”
Jack shook his head, most likely indicating he either didn’t know, or trying to explain it to Mac in his current condition. Instead, he made the call signs while mouthing what they needed to do.
“No hostiles seen. Need to take cover. Evac’s been called.”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay— let’s— where…?”
A genuine question that Mac didn’t think Jack had the answer to, because the whole city seemed to be in ruins and the idea of going into a non collapsed building didn’t seem like a good idea for fear of it actually collapsing.
He saw a look in Jack’s eye, as though he was right in thinking Jack actually didn’t have an answer for it. The whole city was supposed to be a safe area, and look where that got them. He gestured for Mac to wait a moment while taking a few steps away, sidearm drawn and ready, while he took a look around, even yelling something to those passing by.
Mac started to feel the pain of his injuries; his head was throbbing, the small cuts everywhere making themselves known— his body as a whole felt like a crumpled paper than had been laid flat. Closing his eyes helped mildly with his vertigo, but he knew he had to keep them open for his own safety, and Jack’s peace of mind.
He could hear more— yelling over everything else; commands, or directions, or people crying for their lost loved ones. The one thing he didn’t hear, which he was glad for, was more explosions. At least they seemed to be done.
“Alright, there’s a few trucks left that are operable.” Jack’s voice, no matter how muffled, was pleasant to hear. “Guys are clearin some to put in wounded that can’t wait for help. How’s yer head?”
“Not— thinking about it.” Mac closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Hearings better; can— can understand words now. Don’t need— I can wait.”
“Yeah, I know ya can. We’ll getcha a medic soon as we can. We just need to find a better place to hunker down right now til that help arrives. Think the guys have somethin set up just a little ways over there. Think you can make it?”
Mac nodded, not actually believing what he would’ve wound up saying. He stuck his arm up, waiting just a second before Jack grabbed it and slowly pulled him so he was standing, and waited a second for the dizziness to stop so he wouldn’t topple over. Jack slowly took his arm and wrapped it around his shoulders for support before he finally started moving. It was a few steps before Mac noticed.
“You’re limping.”
“I’m alright, kid; big ol’ chunk slammed into me is all. Hurts but I’ll live.”
He seemed to accept that, even though Jack was probably downplaying how bad it was. Mac didn’t have the kind to argue about it though.
The two of them followed the general flow of people still trying to escape the madness that was happening around them until they arrived at the opposite end of the city where a good amount of the debris had been cleared and fires had been put out. Mac had been heading to where the other people were, both soldiers and civilians alike helping and treating each other for injuries, but Jack pulled him away, going towards a smaller group comprised only of soldiers.
“Wait—”
“Larger group, larger target.”
He didn’t have to ask; there was a possibility that whoever was responsible for the destruction was waiting for all the survivors to gather, and then take them out with one fell swoop.
Jack lowered Mac to a slab he could sit on, keeping him steady to not make the everlasting vertigo any more unbearable than it was.
“Sit tight. Be back in two minutes.”
Mac watches Jack go off before lowering his head into his hands. If the pounding in his head could stop, that would solve nearly all his problems.
“Here.” Something nudged his arm, and when he looked, the guy sitting to his right had an arm stretched out with a canteen at the end. “Just water.”
Slowly, Mac took it and took a swig, swishing it in his mouth before spitting it out and taking an actual drink after. “Thanks.”
“I’ve been coming here for six years. Never woulda assumed something like this would happen.” Another man said, looking at the carnage.
“What did happen? I woke up to explosions.”
“Fuckton of IEDs is what happened. In and around the city; each one going off seconds after the last.”
An extreme pang of guilt ran through Mac. If that was true— he hadn’t noticed anything. Nothing about the city gave him any reason to think anything was wrong; nothing screamed danger at him, nothing looked wrong or out of place.
“What unit are you with?”
Mac didn’t want to answer. Didn’t want the dozen of people there to realize he was responsible for what happened.
“The, uh, the EOD unit, south east.”
The man that asked laughed. “Ironic, really. EOD never seems to be able to catch a break, but looks like we got ourselves a full house now.” He gestured around to everyone. “At least half a dozen guys from each major base in the area. You’re the only one from your unit I’ve met so far.”
Mac’s head started to hurt even more with that information. Something had clicked. All the pieces were starting to fall together. If only he had worked on what he knew a little longer…
“Shouldn’t be too long.” Jack said, appearing at Mac’s side with a canteen. “Someone got a call to their base and word got around to the others. We got a fleet coming to take care of everythin. Dunno where they’re actually comin from so ain’t too sure when they’ll actually be here, but help’s comin.” He oversee the canteen to Mac, squeezing his shoulder slightly. “You doin okay?
Mac ignored the drink offer, putting his head into his hands. “This is my fault.”
He heard Jack shuffle and sit next to him. “Now how in the hell did you come to that conclusion?”
“The stuff— what I was looking over for McKinnley— I knew there was something else but I wasn’t thinking and I was tired, I didn’t have a full map to reference—”
“Mac—”
“This place was the center of all the other bases. I didn’t piece it together because I didn’t lay everything out. All the bases— they must’ve been just practice and this was the actual target. If I’d just spent more time—”
“Hold on, Mac. Take a breath.” A hand went to his back. “What happened is in no way yer fault.”
“I knew—”
“No, you didn’t. It’s not even yer job to find out stuff like this.”
“But—”
“Ah— nope. Thing yer supposed to do is follow reports on where IEDs are and take care of them. And yer supposed to follow orders yer superior officers give ya. That’s exactly what you did; McKinnley asked you to find out what you could and that’s what you did.” He shuffled closer, hand going to the back of Mac’s neck and voice dropping to a whisper. “What happened was not yer fault, and if anyone says otherwise, they’re lyin. You had no way of knowin anythin was gonna happen today. What if McKinnley didn’t ask you to look through anythin? What if it was just that one IED you took care of with Joe? Would ya still blame yerself for this? What if we got out here when we were originally supposed to? Say these things when off yesterday, or last week, it wouldn’t be yer fault. Not then, not now. No one blames you for what happened, okay?”
Mac didn’t trust himself to speak, merely nodding slightly, but not fully believing Jack’s words.
His head hurt. He wanted to be away from there, away from the carnage, the damage— away from the heavy iron and gun powder smell in the air.
He needed to get away from the bodies.
“Jack.” His voice was barely a whisper, too quiet for anyone other than Jack to hear. “When can we get out of here?”
A squeeze on the back of his neck told him everything he needed without Jack actually speaking.
“Soon. We’ll get outta here real soon.”
***
A pillow had been over Mac’s head, trying to drown out the guys on the other side of the bunks. They weren’t being particularly loud or even talking much in general, but the occasional laugh sent a quick pang of pain shooting through his head. He and Jack had been back on base for four days, three of which he spent with Doc Roe to determine the extent of their injuries. The worst of Mac’s overall injuries was a grade two concussion, and a good part of his body being scrapes and bruises from being relatively close to an explosion when it happened. Jack had been worse off, despite his arguing, with a nondisplaced fracture in his femur and bruised ribs, along with the same scrapes and bruising Mac had. Doc Roe had chewed him out over not staying off of it, but was also amazed that it didn’t turn into a displaced fracture with how much he’d been moving. And while Mac had been turned loose to the bunks, Jack was still in med, being kept under observation, and would stay there for a week at least. Mac nearly wished he could go back and claim a bed there.
He didn’t really remember the return trip, or anything about the incident overall; getting a few drinks with other soldiers, heading to sleep, awoken by explosions— he remembered sitting and asking Jack to leave several times before anything happened. They weren’t even among the first few groups to be carted off to a base to get treatment. He lost time when they were finally able to leave. He remembered getting in a truck with a dozen other guys, and then it was just him and Jack, getting settled into med.
He wished he could forget everything he saw. The amount of bodies he walked by, the rubble that was scattered— the blood that made it feel like every inch of the city was covered in it. Mac was trying to listen to Jack’s words, have them play over and over in his head so they would sink in, but he just couldn’t accept it. The blood of all those people wasn’t covering the town, it was covering Mac. His hands were covered every time he looked, and the sweat dripping down his neck only added to the illusion. And every time he thought about it, it made him want to heave.
A few guys had checked in over the last few days while he was still in med, bringing both him and Jack things to keep themselves entertained and sneaking them tastier food that what was served. Jack was the one that spoke with them, thanking them and asking if they could break them both out of there. Mac appreciated what he was doing, acting silly to take both their minds off what happened, but then their superiors came asking for details about what happened, ignoring Jack when he told them Mac had a concussion and didn’t know, and when Roe told them to leave because they were both useless at the moment.
They weren’t exactly placing blame on him, but the question of why he stopped working was one he couldn’t give them an answer to. What about that specific research made Mac stop? Why did he feel that everything he gathered was enough when there wasn’t a clear answer to anything?
“He did all that on his own free will. Wasn’t ordered to or anythin. I know y’all’re lookin to cover yer asses on this and need a scapegoat to shift blame onto someone, but there ain’t no blame to shift unless yer sayin Mac was the one to build, plant, and detonate those IEDs, sir.”
Jack eating into their commanding officers as always a sight, mainly because he hardly got reprimanded for it, and the times he did, depending on who it was, the punishment was never truly anything anyone could consider a true punishment.
Something cold touched the crook of Mac’s neck and a voice filtered in through the pillow.
“Come on, Hollywood. Ice cold, straight from the freezer.”
Mac moved the pillow slightly to see Patrick standing there holding a water bottle, but made no move to grab it.
“Don’t make me go back to Doc and say you didn’t take it. That’s nearly as bad as a walk of shame. Besides Doc, Dalton will also beat my ass if I don’t take care of you.”
Mac’s cheek twitched. “I’m okay.”
“I didn’t ask but I’m glad.” Patrick tucked the bottle to Mac’s side. “Me and Joe went to see you in med; didn’t think Doc would of let you out already.”
“Other people needed my bed. Nothing he can do there that can’t be done here.”
“I guess, but he’d keep it quiet for you. Probably give you an actual pillow too.”
It wasn’t that Mac wanted to be there, but the thought of silence was something that was heavily swaying him to go back. But also the thing that was keeping him from going. The occasional raised voices of the other guys in the bunks was less than ideal, but it helped Mac focus, helped him remember that he was back on base and not in the town.
Besides that, Roe would probably push him to try and sleep. He was still technically on concussion watch and needed to be woken every few hours, but Roe would undoubtedly forget to wake him up for a check. And Mac didn’t want to sleep, because he would dream— dream of the horror that happened less than a week prior. He’d already woken up gasping for air several times, and at least once with a yell. He didn’t want to have to go through that yet again, disturbing the peace all the others needed.
So Mac would tough it through the pain and uncomfort in order to let the others have the peace they needed.
***
Time passed. Minutes to hours, and hours to days.
Mac honestly thought he was doing better. His head wasn’t constantly pounding anymore, guys talking didn’t bother him as much as they did, and the food he was brought almost stopped making him gag. He still got dizzy when getting up to do anything, but not to the point of nausea anymore. He’d been called back to go over the report that was made when he and Jack first got back, double checking and correcting anything that was wrong. Details had become clearer and the haziness of his memories were clearing up.
That was good. It meant Mac was healing. So it was surprising when his CO made a comment about his appearance.
“You look terrible, son. You gotten any sleep since you got back?”
It was an echo of what Jack had been saying since he was allowed back in the bunks after a week in med. He had a soft cast on and had strict instructions to not take it off and use a walking stick when he needed to get up. Mac had asked why he hadn’t been transferred to a hospital, or home for that matter, and he wasn’t sure if he believed the answer Jack gave him.
“It ain’t like it’s broke broke. Not like they could do anythin for me in a hospital that can’t be done here. I just gotta go to one in a few weeks for an X-ray to see how it’s progressin. And just cuz I can’t be out in the field doesn’t mean I can’t work. I can still yell at people and tell them what to do.”
Mac would’ve been content to keep talking about Jack’s health, but he was so out of it he didn’t catch when they started talking about his own.
“You look downright miserable, kid. Concussion beatin yer ass?”
“I feel like it. It’s a miracle I don’t have a migraine on top of everything.”
“You able to get any sleep? Real sleep?”
“A hour on and off here or there. I can’t— if it’s any longer than that then I’ll start to dream. And I can’t see anything except for what happened.”
It wasn’t like he was actively avoiding sleeping. Not really. He had been slowly coming to terms with that happened; Jack’s words echoing through his head, helping to convince himself of the truth they held. If he had never been asked to take a look at the information, if he never knew anything more than the single IED he disarmed— he hadn’t even heard anything about the IEDs that went off in the city, if they were even the same ones. It wouldn’t have been his fault if they went off a day sooner, or a day later.
But it didn’t stop the images from coming in full swing every night. The lull of the base set up the scene the same every time— Mac waking up after an IED went off before pure chaos. His hands were always covered in blood and the bodies were always on the same places, though their faces changed; men, women, children. It was that that Mac didn’t want to see, and what had him jerking awake every night. Oddly enough, he was able to sleep better during the day, with the yelling and bangs and general loud noises that kept the quiet away so the dream couldn’t start.
It was getting better, slowly, but it was getting there.
“Hey.” A point of pressure made its way through Mac’s sorry excuse for a mattress and into his back. Jack was having the time of his life with the cane he’d been given. “You up for some grub?”
“If I told you I’d rather sleep, would you believe me?”
“Course I would, but given yer track record as of late, I dunno if it’s attainable. Beat we can do is try to get any and all energy you got out, and a good way to do that is to walk around a bit and get some food.”
Mac snorted. “You’re scared someone’s going to rat you out to Doc again?”
“I wasn’t even doin anythin! The stick was outta my hands for like a minute and I didn’t move or anythin until Red gave it back.”
“So you need someone to vouch for you of something happens again.”
“Oh no, you’ve caught on to my master plan.” Jack’s tone held heavy sarcasm. “Doc said I should walk a little bit each day to keep my strength up, and I can’t begin to tell ya how bored I am. I enjoy slackin off as much as the next guy but havin no choice in the matter just makes it the worst. Probably do you some good as well. Come on now, help me up.”
Mac couldn’t find any fault in what Jack said. He’d also pretty much been bed bound for the last week and taking a short walk to wherever would probably aid in his own healing. He got down from his bunk and took Jack’s outstretched arm in his own, pulling him up and more or less keeping himself and Jack steady as they left.
They did go to the canteen and get something to eat before leaving and more or less just slowly walking in and around the base. Mac made a note of people they passed calling them Spaceman and Grandpa, two names he didn’t think either of them wanted to stick.
“Okay, think it’s time to take a rest.” Jack said, steering Mac back towards the bunks.
“Think you over did it a bit? It’s been like two hours.”
“As long as Doc doesn’t find out, we’re all good.” A snort. “Hey, how’re you doin?”
Mac let out a heavy breath. “I’m okay. My vertigo is practically gone and I have an appetite again. I’m not too sore anymore either. I’m honestly ready to do some work.”
Jack nodded. “How’re you feelin then? About everythin that happened? I know you haven’t really been gettin sleep, and when ya do it’s fitful. You know you can talk to me bout it.”
“I’m… it’s getting better. I don’t think I’m not going to feel guilty about it, but I’m starting to come to terms that I had no control over the situation. But— I can’t get the images out of my face, of seeing all those bodies scattered around. Every time I close my eyes, it’s like I’m there again. I don’t know how to— get past it.”
“Sometimes, ya can’t.” Jack nudged him. “Sometimes it stays with you, and you just gotta learn to accept if, until somethin else takes its place. It’s a never endin cycle that you may have to learn to live with. I guarantee there ain’t one guy here that ain’t goin through the same thing. Every single one of these guys, they all got nightmares, and there’s always a reoccurin one that drains them. It’s a horrible thing, but it’s somethin that everyone here has learned to live with.”
“I don’t know if I can do that.”
“There’s a thing that’ll help, won’t make ya forget or get passed it completely, but it helps with yer mentality, least with me it does; think of all the times you’ve helped— all the times where there were only winners and nothin went wrong. I mean, shit, you have a near record.”
“That’s not really—”
“Yes, it is.” Jack cut him off. “Every single one of those IEDs you disarmed, that was a life, or several, saved. Doesn’t matter if it was out in the middle of nowhere, like you’ve told me, there’s always a chance someone could set it off. Yer responsible for dismantlin hundreds of IEDs; that’s hundreds of lives saved, so don’t tell me it doesn’t count.”
Mac let out a heavy breath. “I— I know, I mean, I’m coming to terms with it, but I don’t know when. It’s just… it’s a lot going on.”
“I know, but ya ain’t gonna be alone in it. I know I like yappin but that don’t mean I can’t listen.” Jack clapped Mac on the shoulder. “Doesn’t matter how long it’ll take to adjust to it either. I ain’t goin anywhere; with ya every step of the way.”
Mac looked to him, then to the sky, eyes squinting in the sun. “Probably going to take twice as long then, with how you are right now.”
“Just cuz I’m down a leg doesn’t mean I can’t kick yer ass.”
“Okay, Grandpa.”
“Seriously Mac. You ever wanna talk bout this, or anythin, I’m here for you.”
A small smile found it’s way onto Mac’s face.
“Yeah, I know.”