Suzette stood by silently as Hector all but collapsed into Andi's bed. Bit her bottom lip. She had never thought anyone
could look as ragged as her heart felt right now. Quiet, she moved over and pulled the blanket up over his bare
shoulder. Hoping he was already asleep and wouldn't notice.
There would be blood. A great deal of blood over this, she knew. Silent, she straightened and then hesitated. Shook
her head at herself and quietly slipped the letter Andi had been writing to him, half finished as it was, where he would
see it when he woke up. Under Mr. Snuffle's foot where the elephant stood guard next to his weapons. It was an
incongruous mixture that fit inside her mind too well.
She carefully tied the tent flap shut for privacy as she left. He would bring her friend back. She had been waiting all
this time for him to come so that he could.
Hector was dead to the world as soon as he hit the pillow. His body had sleep to catch up on, as much as
his mind wanted to fight it. But better to take a break now than fall from exhaustion at a critical moment. He had seen it
happen before and it wasn't going to happen to him. He wasn't going to let Andi down, and that was final.
After securing the tent flap, Suzette sighed and leaned against a tent pole as she watched the
international special operations units float around. This one time, Sam was okay with it all, and had been
over accommodating so far. Then again, he wanted to make sure Andi came back, and knew the Red Cross couldn't
do it.
Still didn't change the fact that his camp was overrun with military, again. Then she saw a familiar
blond figure move through the crowd.
"He's already sleeping?" Swanson asked.
"What are you doing here?" Suzette asked after a sharp nod. No one was getting into that tent for at
least two hours. Andi needed him rested and sharp.
"Saying you don't need the help?" Swanson asked with an arched eyebrow.
"We don't need people looking for a reason to fight."
"Its called loyalty, darling." He said sarcastically. "That's my boy in there and he needs back up. He'd do the same for
me in a heart beat. Besides, you know how I am with languages." Again, an example of him absorbing ambient
knowledge like a sponge. "They'll need a translator. And one that can take blows and give them right back is even
more useful."
He had a point, Suzette couldn't protest his presence. "He's sleeping." She said. "He's exhausted."
"He would be, hasn't slept for eight days." Swanson said as he leaned against a tent pole.
"What are you doing?"
"Standing guard. I figure between the two of us, ain't no way no one's waking him up before its time."
Mike glanced at his watch. Three hours since Hector had gone down. Jet looked at him and Mike shook his head.
"Let him sleep. He'd be wasting his time on this anyway."
"Ya really think they're gonna give us intel?" Billy asked in his lazy twang. Mike frowned and shook his head.
"Guys are mooks. Little fish. Probably only know their immediate contact and the fact they got paid good for the job.
But he's one of the ones that put Andi in harm's way and I want him for that."
"You want 'em alive?" Billy asked, smoothing a hand across the stock of his modified sniper rifle with loving dedication.
He was from Kentucky and the crackshot on the team, already having proved it against the rest of the mixed group
with a fast draw that had kicked the soda can out of Baker's hand within the first half hour of the teams getting
together. Which might have exacerbated Baker's annoyance with the American side of the team. Just a little.
"Yep." Mike agreed mildly as he slung himself into the Black Hawk. He was in full gear again and it felt damn good to
have the accumulated oppressive weight on his back and shoulders again. Pity this was a dry environment. Jet, silent,
slid in and hunched up near the pilot. Ahmed had found them Scarface. Holed up in a 'warehouse' in one of the 'cities'
that was nearby. And so, while intel was still coming in on other fronts, the SEALs were going to go play pick up.
"So what'd you do to the 'real' medic? You know, the official Italian one" Billy asked with a crooked grin. Mike's
answering smile was wicked and nonrepentant.
"What makes you think I did anything? He's probably just got a nasty case of the stomach flu. I'm sure he'll be back up
and kicking in a few days tops."
William watched the Hawk lift off and then turned back toward the tents. Intel had come in on the truck. It was hot
alright. Nice collection of cinnamon colored strands of hair left behind in one of the rusty cracks in it. You didn't count
on hostages helping you out.
But sometimes - they did.
Problem was - all three of their warlords were deep in the mountains near there. And he knew, having spent the past
four months in those very mountains, how very hard it was going to be to find their camps which were always moving.
Especially since, at this moment, they had three camps to track down and locate since they weren't sure which one
had taken her. Word was, as of an hour ago, the warlords still hated each other's guts. Send in a team of Special Ops
on just one of them though and that could all change real fast. They'd have to hit all three and hit them pretty close to
the same time. Right after they found them...
"Where's the Yank?" William turned around to see Baker standing there. Looking like he was nursing a grudge about
the size of the Maranaria Trench to go with the bottle of water he was holding.
"Sleepin" William answered levelly. If they were splitting forces once they hit the mountains, he'd need another two
team leaders. He hadn't entirely decided about that yet but he did know who he wasn't putting together.
"Wills..." Baker started and William held up his hand.
"Don't go pickin' at this one, Roger." He stated flatly. "He's the best of the best. I've seen his records. And he's crazy
over this bird. Don't know if she's another in a long line or the only one he's this way over, but he's crazy about her
right now."
"He shouldn't be here." Baker growled and William nodded.
"He shouldn't. But while he is, I want you to pretend he's me. And that doctor is Diane. Right?"
"Christ!" Baker snarled and William shrugged.
"You'll understand one day." He headed back toward the command tent to see if they'd located any locals willing to
help out in the mountain region they'd be headed for almost as soon as the SEAL team came back with their prize.
Transport was already on its way. "Til then, leave the bloke alone until after we've rescued the girl. Beat the shit out of
him after that if you're still in the mood."
Baker ran point most of the time. But they both knew who the higher ranking officer was.
Five hours later, Hector came out of the tent, where both Suzette and Swanson were steadfastly---and civilly---
standing guard.
"Why'd you let me sleep that long?" Hector asked, nearly demanded.
"You needed it." Swanson said. "Don't worry, plenty of daylight left to burn. Not even one o'clock yet." Suzette left the
two men to go get some coffee. As long as Hector was looking for Andi, he was her new best friend, an olive branch
Hector didn't miss as he swished some Listerine offered by Swanson in his mouth and spit it out. "The SEALs, and
Mike, went to fetch the instigator of the fire."
"I knew he was a SEAL." Hector said with a dry chuckle.
"No you didn't."
"You're right." Hector said and shook his head. "He probably bullied his way onto that team anyway."
"Kinda like this certain brown haired Delta that now the SAS wants dead?" Swanson asked with a grin as they walked
casually back over to the command center, where Hector smirked and waved at Baker, who didn't look amused.
"Yeah, kinda like that." Hector said. He went over to Pettyworth, the only reasonable one in the bunch as far as he
was concerned. William looked up at him then back at the charts.
"Cheerio, sunshine." He said, plotting out different hits they had on the different camps. "American coffee, rubbish."
He said as Suzette handed a grateful Hector a hot cup, then scurried away to do her work, and Andi's.
"Its caffeine. If you told me camel's piss had more caffeine, I'd probably drink that." Hector said dryly.
"Baker might take you up on that."
"Still holding a grudge? Pansy." Hector said. William bristled a bit, but kept his composure. One Delta and one SAS
agent brawling was quite enough for him. "So where we at?"
"The truck was correct. Now we're just narrowing down and finding the camps of the three warlords. Easier said than
done." William said, noticing Baker was keeping a careful distance from the two, or more correctly, Hector. Hector
nodded and looked at the charts.
"If she was taken as a doctor, chances are she won't be in the thick of things. They wouldn't go through all that trouble
just to put her in harms way and have to do it all over again." Hector said.
"Agree." William nodded, gesturing to the map. "If she's their doctor, they'll be careful with her." If not - he couldn't
imagine what else they'd want her for that they couldn't have done to dozens of other women a lot closer. But he'd
been here too long to think he understood everything that went on in warlords minds sometimes. And at least one of
the ones in the mountains was crazy.
"We've had sightings. Lots of them. The guerillas come down from the mountains and raid the villages in the area
pretty regularly. Problem is - once they disappear back up into them, we lose them. And no village is going to risk
going anywhere near there." One of the other SAS handed him a stack of folders and he opened them, laying them
out in front of Hector.
"Here's our three. This one the crazy one. Nothing's sacred and out of all of the three, his violence is the most random
and pattern less." A black and white photo got passed over along with notes on troops, recent raids, major atrocities.
"He's mad. Most of his men are too. Hopped up on whatever drug they can get their hands on. They take children and
impound them in their army too. Bad bloody buggar. His area's here." He gestured to a few hundred miles of mountain
and forest. "He might have taken her because he's just nuts enough to not care."
Another folder opened and more pictures and maps and lists came out.
"This one's the leader. Trying to take the whole country. His men paint their faces white, come out in the night for their
raids. They've got a shaman that makes them 'dead men' before they go out. They're the most aggressive. Pick fights
with the other two because as far as he's concerned its all his land anyway. He's got everyone a bit worried about his
'magic' and he knows how to use propaganda. He's also got the lowest casualty ratio considering how many fights he
picks."
"And then we've got the business man. He's got the best weapons and his army's run a lot like a business. Lots of
attention to rank. He'll deal. Or fight. Whatever shows the most profit. Pretty much 'protects' the villages near him. For
a price. And if its not met, he doesn't just raid the offending huts. He burns it all to the ground and chops the people
up as an example. We've got some third parties making cautious inquiry but don't want to give him too much. We tip
him we're after his doctor so soon - and he actually has her - and he might sell her back. Or bury the body to avoid
trouble."
"All in all, they've each got a couple hundred kilos they could be hiding in. So far no luck at where any of them are
centered but we're still working on it. We'll shake down our firebugs here but I'm not expecting much. Then, unless we
get something good, we're packing up and heading over that way. Unless we know for sure where she is, we're going
to have to case all three places as pretty close to the same time. They don't like each other but they hate us."
"SEALs are back!" One of the men at one of the radios called and William stood up. Wishing his wife hadn't gotten him
to quite smoking.
"Hope they left enough of him alive to answer some questions." He muttered under his breath as he loped out of the
tent.
Hector rubbed his face, refusing to think about what else they would want Andi for. That would be enough to drive him
into a rage from which there might not be any recovering from. And that wouldn't do Andi any good. Then he followed
William out toward the Black hawks. "I don't think it’s the businessman. He would have dealt and bribed for a doctor,
and he wouldn't want to bring the ire of the international community down on his head, or his lands. The shaman guy,
possibly. But a guy that much into the occult of his culture might not have a need for a doctor, his shaman is a healer
and he would trust the care of the troops to him. Which leaves us with the psycho." Not a warming thought, but the
most logical. But he'd seen the native people of this land refuse help from the Red Cross due to their belief system.
He looked at the SEALs and Mike unloading with their living cargo, thinking Mike certainly looked right at home on the
bird, not to mention handled the gear like a pro. He passed William by and went over to the man they had picked up
and grabbed him from the SEALs. The SEALs, having gotten the background on the situation from Mike, backed off,
but kept a wary eye on the Delta.