Baywatch/Animal Kingdom: Extenuating Circumstances (1/6)
Title: Extenuating Circumstances
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: My lovely friend sendintheklowns has a thing for Adrian and Deran in Animal Kingdom. I have a thing for Brody and Mitch in Baywatch. She requested that I blend the two. This is the sequel to the first meeting of these fandoms. The first fic is here. This is unbeta’ed. Fills my forbidden love square on hc_bingo.
Summary: Mitch knows everyone on the beach, even gun-toting psychopaths.
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
-o-
Most people, when you save their life, are grateful. Some of them will give you hugs. It’s not uncommon to get a thank you note. From time to time, they try to bring you gifts -- fruit baskets, gift certificates, once a jet ski. You can’t accept the gifts, which Brody thinks is a shitty rule, honestly, but the gratitude is kind of nice.
Really nice, okay.
As an Olympian, he’d ben super concerned about winning and all that, and it’d he’d liked cheers and applause and giving interviews and signing autographs. Fame had been such a novelty, a world where people knew his name after a lifetime of growing up without a family to call his own. That shit mattered to him, almost as much as lucrative sponsorship deals that gave him more money than he’d ever seen in his pathetic life.
Losing all that was hard, as you might expect. Like, hard hard. Brody had crashed and burned, and by the time he showed up on Mitch’s beach to sport those stupid red trunks, he’d been about two steps away from drinking himself into oblivion. The plan had been, of course, to do his good deed, earn back the public’s good graces, train hard for the next Olympics and score big.
What had happened, by contrast, might seem like a let down to some people. Brody wasn’t exactly ruling out the Olympics, but he wasn’t worried about it. He wasn’t looking for any sponsorship deals. He didn’t give a shit whether or not anyone wanted his autograph thing.
No, Brody was down with being a lifeguard.
Being part of a team.
Being a hero.
Honestly, being a hero, making the save, that feels ten times better than winning the gold.
Okay, so not ten times better. Setting the world record in the 200 was kind of the most awesome experience of Brody’s life, but that’s the point. That was the best moment of Brody’s life, and truth be told, he’d trade that moment for Baywatch in a second.
Because Baywatch matters.
One moment doesn’t mean shit.
But a lifetime?
That’s something.
That’s everything.
So, Brody is down with this whole being a hero thing. He’s all but sold out. It makes him feel good about himself. And that’s basically never happened in his life, ever. Not even when he won two gold medals. It’s a crazy thing to do something for someone else that matters, like, really, really matters. It’s the best thing ever, frankly, to have people express gratitude like that.
Over a year in, Brody wouldn’t say he takes it for granted -- it’s still a thrill, every time -- but he knows how it works. You save a life, they’re happy. End of story.
That is how it is with most people.
Then, one day, Brody finds out the exception to the rule. Because most people will give you a hug, send you a thank you note, offer some gift.
Others?
They up and kidnap you at gunpoint.
Because of course they do.
-o-
Naturally, Brody doesn’t see it coming. He’s kind of an idiot about things like that, which is why he continually does stupid shit and fails to grasp the full range of consequences. If he was a guy with much insight, he wouldn’t have gotten super drunk the day before his last Olympic race. That’s not something you do if you see things coming.
That said, this one isn’t actually Brody’s fault.
No one would see this coming.
Not even Mitch Buchannon.
Yes, Brody takes some comfort in that because he’s petty as hell and because there’s not really any other comfort to take when some angry-looking dude sticks a gun in his face and cocks it.
“Shit,” Brody says, hands in the air. It’s early; there are a few people on the beach, but no one close by. The sun is still rising, and no one’s on duty yet. He’s there because Mitch asked him to do an equipment check on tower one before the day started and Brody’s pretty good at following Mitch’s orders most of the time.
Funny, this isn’t the first time he’s been held at gunpoint because of that.
Yeah, but this time he’s not putting his head to the trigger.
That is what you might call restraint or character growth or, you know, normal.
At any rate, Brody is about to shit his pants and he tries to think of something, anything and comes up with absolutely nothing.
“Where’s Mitch?”
Brody’s mind has sort of stopped working. “Mitch?”
The guy doesn’t like that. He doesn’t seem to realize that Brody’s a moron who actually has forgotten how to function like a coherent person at the moment. “Mitch Buchannon,” the guy says again, jabbing the gun with a menacing growl as he steps closer to Brody. “He’s a lieutenant. He mans tower one.”
The dude says this like he’s research it or something. Which, if you’re going to take someone hostage at gunpoint, you’d probably want to do a little research so maybe that makes sense.
For criminals.
Which is to say it makes no sense at all.
“Well, sure,” Brody says, fumbling a little. He has to be calm, he has to remain calm. That’s what lifeguards do. They stay calm in super stressful situations. That’s how they save lives. You can’t save anyone if you’re panicking, and that starts with yourself. “But, like, he’s not here.”
That’s a vague statement that is basically true. Mitch isn’t here. He’s in the HQ, sure, because that’s where Brody just was when Mitch told him to go.
He’s not sure if that’s information he should be sharing, honestly. Not when some dude clearly wants to put a gun in Mitch’s face.
Of course, when the alternative is a gun in Brody’s face, the question becomes a little harder to answer.
The guy shakes his head. “Where’s Buchannon?”
It’s an all-out demand now, and the gun is almost touching Brody’s chest now.
He swallows, holding his hands up as he starts to sweat, like, everywhere. “Look, let’s just calm down,” he suggests, because that sounds like something Mitch would say. It is something Mitch would say. He’d be cool and collected and he’d talk this guy down. Mitch is like that. “We can figure this out.”
The guy snarls, his face contorted with anger under his well kept beard. He’s got light hair, which is long and textured. It’s been pulled back into a hasty ponytail, and he’s not dressed for the beach in jeans on a t-shirt.
Maybe that’s kidnapping apparel.
Or, you know, the stuff you where when you set out to murder someone.
Brody feels his confidence start to falter.
“Tell me where he is!” the guy says, his voice raising so that it outmatches the sound of the morning waves. This time, the gun does press into Brody’s chest, and Brody wants to hurl.
With a stuttered breath, Brody tries and fails to swallow. “Seriously, man,” he says again, blinking rapidly as he struggles to maintain something like composure. “He’s not here.”
“I’m not shitting around,” the guy growls, this time dropping his voice as he draws closer. The gun is painfully hard in his chest and the guy is closer enough that Brody can smell the staleness of his breath. “Do you think I’m shitting around?”
“No, no,” Brody says quickly, his voice threatening to break. He wets his lips, feeling himself start to tremble. It’s not a cold morning, but the breeze off the water is cool and he’s in swim trunks and a swim shirt. Also, he’s being held at gunpoint and that messes with your central nervous system or some shit. “I get that, I do. I get it.”
“No, you don’t,” the guy says, staring Brody down hard. There’s a crazy look in his eyes, and the way he holds the gun, the way he spews his threats -- Brody gets the sense that he’s done this before. Maybe more.
“Okay,” Brody says, doing his best to diffuse the situation. That’s what Mitch talks about. Diffusing situations. That’s a thing. That’s a lifeguard thing. He’s pretty sure they’ve had training sessions about that and whatever. “We can talk about this, figure something out.”
Yeah, this dude, he doesn’t seem big on diffusing anything. This time, when he jerks forward, he reaches up and fists his fingers into Brody’s hair, giving him a shake so violent that Brody forgets about the gun in his chest for a moment. “I need Buchannon, this is his tower,” the guy says with a vicious plaintive tone. “So where is he?”
Gasping, Brody has given up all hope of composure now. He feels his eyes water and his voice sounds funny and strained when he talks. “I’m on duty here today, me,” he says because what else can he say? What else can he do? He can’t magically make Mitch turn up and seriously, at this point, does he want to? It’s not good form to take a gun-wielding maniac to find your best friend/boss/mentor/everything. It’s just not. Even Brody knows that and he’s a moron. “It’s just me.”
If Brody’s gesture is heroic or noble or whatever, this guy totally does not care. In fact, the answer only seems to infuriate him, and he lifts the gun so it’s pressed into Brody’s temple now. “Tell me how to find Buchannon or I’m going to blow your brains out.”
“Okay, okay,” Brody says, and he’s going to say anything now. Truly anything. “Maybe if we go back to HQ, maybe we can find him there. That’s where he works when he’s not in the tower, okay? That’s where he works.”
Brody feels like he’s going to vomit again, because it’s like he’s sold Mitch out. He knows, reasonably, that Mitch would want him to do this, that Mitch would deem it the responsible tactic. Mitch doesn’t want martyrs on his beach, and he believes in strength in numbers. Taking this guy to HQ increases visibility, which reduces the odds of someone getting offed.
But it also increases the chance that this guy will find Mitch and do whatever the hell he wants.
And it’s the truth is the problem.
Brody’s not able to lie very well under pressure and he’s got a gun to his head and all he can think about is telling the whole damn truth.
It works.
Or it seems to.
The guy studies Brody, as if deciding whether or not to trust him, and then he takes a step back. He removes the gun from Brody’s head, though it’s still held at the ready. “You can take me to HQ, then?”
“Yes,” Brody says through the tightness in his throat. “Yes.”
The murderous glint in the guy’s eyes is still there, but there’s something more measured in his disposition. Like he lost control there for a second but now he’s got his sense back. Now, it’s very likely his sense is still set on shooting someone, but he’s not about to go off half-cocked. That’s probably a good thing.
Or, you know, a better thing.
Maybe Brody’s done this right.
Maybe Brody’s has this under control.
Maybe Brody has managed to make this situation turn out okay.
Maybe.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Brody closes his eyes, heart sinking. He knows that voice. His stomach ties itself in a thick knot.
Maybe not.
The guy reaches out, grabbing Brody and pulling him back until his back is to this guy’s chest. The gun is pressed into his temple again. “Mitch Buchannon.”
Brody opens his eyes. Mitch is standing there, looking concerned. Maybe annoyed. Pissed off. His eyes pass over Brody, as if making sure he’s okay, before fixing on the man now holding Brody hostage. He seems to recognize the guy.
And the guy seems to recognize Mitch.
“I told you I didn’t want to see you again,” Mitch says because of course he does. Mitch knows everyone on the beach, even gun-toting psychopaths.
The guy shrugs, keeping the gun steady against Brody’s head. “And I told you it’s complicated.”
Mitch nods, lips pursed. “So tell me how you think this is going to go.”
“I think,” the guy says, nudging Brody a step forward. “That we’re going for a little ride.”
-o-
Yeah, with a gun and a menacing disposition, it’s clear that this guy expects his logic to work. Honestly, when holding someone at gunpoint and using their life as leverage, it’s not an illogical conclusion.
But Mitch’s isn’t that kind of guy.
So while this guy clearly knows Mitch.
He doesn’t know Mitch.
Which is perfect.
Really, just perfect.
In response to the order, Mitch crosses his arms over his chest and essentially plants his feet in the sand. “There’s no need for the gun.”
Yeah, so Mitch recognizes the guy but it’s pretty clear he doesn’t actually know him. He seems to wildly underestimate how much this guy likes his gun.
Behind him, Brody can feel the man shake his head with an air of dogged determination. “You need to come with me.”
And this dude, for all his ability to stand around and point guns at people looking pissed off, clearly doesn’t know Mitch. He doesn’t realize that Mitch doesn’t respond to orders even when they’re common sense. When they’re threats, he doesn’t have that typical fight or flight response that makes it easy for people to manipulate. No, Mitch is just such a stupid bastard and he’s impossible and stupid and shit, shit, shit, why is Brody the only one who understands?
“If there’s an emergency, then you just have to ask,” Mitch says reasonably. Only Mitch can act like any of this is reasonable.
The guy shakes his head again, and Brody can feel his chest hitch as he sucks in a stubborn breath. There’s almost a hint of fear in the motion, but when he talks, the words are brittle and hard. And the gun pressed against his temple is still a pretty persuasive element. “No, this is off the record,” he says, insists, demands. “Nothing can be official.”
“We’re lifeguards,” Mitch says, like that helps anything. “We don’t have the same kind of record. We’re not cops.”
This is technically true, but this is like the first time that Mitch has ever willingly admitted it. Figures he waits until Brody’s got a gun to his head. Brody’s not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe it doesn’t matter.
None of it probably matters. There’s one idiot holding a gun to his head, and there’s an idiot trying to be logical about it in front of him, and they both seem to know exactly what’s going on without having a real clue about anything that’s going on.
This is all so stupid. So stupid. And Brody’s usually the reason for stupid, and he’s not to blame this time, but that’s not doing him a lick of good and what the hell is going on here?
“You have to come,” the guy says, and there’s a hint of desperation now, that slightest edge that people get when they’re well and truly desperate and trying not to show it. Brody recognizes it because he’s had it so often.
To be fair, though, he doesn’t usually implode by taking other people hostage at gunpoint.
It takes a lot for Brody to come across as the better party.
It might make him feel a little bit better except, oh, yeah, this guy is probably going to kill him while Mitch tries to use logic to diffuse the situation.
That’s such shit, diffusing.
Shit.
Mitch seems to be thinking about all that, about the guy and what he’s saying, about Brody with the gun to his head, about how to diffuse situations like a real Baywatch lifeguard. And then he comes to his conclusion in the way that only Mitch Buchannon can. “Okay,” he says, as if conceding some point and not agreeing to go along with the plans of a gun-wielding maniac who has a gun to your best friend’s head. “What do you need me to do?”
There’s a palpable shudder of relief in the man behind him, and the gun lessens its firmness against Brody’s skin but it doesn’t move from its spot. “I have a boat, a private boat. It’s anchored not far away at the marina,” he explains. “I need you to come with me to take it out for a private rescue.”
Brody doesn’t know what the hell a private rescue is. It’s hard to imagine what kind of rescue could be so pressing to take someone hostage to complete it. A real emergency, most people give in and call 911. Even Mitch. But to take someone hostage?
That means this isn’t just a pressing rescue.
This is some screwed up version of a rescue that probably involves more people being held at gunpoint because of course it does.
“Fine,” Mitch says. “You and I can go. Brody stays back.”
For all that Brody has spent the last few minutes being pissed off at Mitch for leaving him in danger, the idea that Mitch is going to go off into danger without Brody pisses him off even more. This is quite possibly a sign that Brody has been spending way, way too much time with Mitch. He’ll contemplate that later. When he’s not being held at gunpoint and when Mitch isn’t trying to be the martyr he tells all his lifeguards not to be.
“No way,” Brody says.
Behind him, the guy says, “No way” at basically the exact same time.
This is quite ironic.
And stupid.
Brody can’t stress enough how utterly stupid this all is.
“He’s seen too much,” the guy says. “If I let him go, he’s just going to run off and call the cops and then this whole thing is for nothing.”
Yeah, so logic. All that is true.
“He’s not a part of this,” Mitch says again.
“He is now,” the guy says. Then, he pauses, something going rigid in his stance. The gun presses a little harder back into Brody’s temple. “The only way I’m leaving him behind is with a bullet in his brain.”
Despite himself, Brody inhales sharply at the threat. This guy, he reminds Brody of Mitch in one pretty important way: he probably doesn’t say a lot of shit he doesn’t mean.
For some reason, this seems to set Mitch on edge. He tightens his own posture, squaring his shoulders. “You’re going to kill the guy who saved Adrian’s life?”
Wait.
Brody’s mind fumbles to keep up.
Adrian?
The guy behind him almost freezes. “This is the guy? The one who did the rescue?”
“The one who got shot for his efforts and nearly bled out in the ocean,” Mitch confirms.
Oh.
Brody puts it together now.
The blonde guy five miles out from shore being roughed up and threatened by some goons who wanted to kill him. They had dumped him overboard while unconscious and they’d shot Brody when he refused to let the guy drown. Brody had known at the time that it was probably something shady going on, but it hadn’t mattered. Duty had come first, no matter what shit that guy had been involved with.
Oh.
The guy tightens his grip on Brody jerking him in front of him and pressing the gun to his back. “Then he’s definitely coming with us.”
-o-
By now, the sun is really starting to come up over the horizon, and there are more people on the beach. It’s mostly runners, dog walkers and a few odd surfers, and they’re all so set on doing their own thing that they hardly notice how awkwardly Brody is walking, shoulder to shoulder with Mitch as some random dude presses a gun discreetly into his back.
That’s a thing. Apparently, it’s possible to hold someone at gunpoint discreetly.
That’s a fun fact that Brody didn’t need for the day.
In his estimation, other people will have started to arrive at HQ. It won’t be long until they start to realize that something is amiss when tower one is unmanned and Mitch is a no-show. People might be able to explain away an absence from Brody -- despite the fact that he’s been totally by the book since becoming a full member, his early reputation is hard to shake -- but no one will ever overlook an absence from Mitch.
They’ll come looking, and they’ll figure out something is amiss.
Of course, they’ll be too late.
Brody can see the boat, floating just off the shore not too far away. They’re going to be off on their off-the-books rescue mission before any chance of their own rescue is possible.
This bothers Brody a lot.
Mitch is annoyingly unbothered. “So is it Adrian again?” he asks, almost conversationally like this isn’t an abduction.
Behind Brody, the guy grunts a little. “Of course it’s Adrian.”
The way he says it, it’s like he should have known better. But still, there’s regret there. Fear.
So this guy, he cares about Adrian.
It’s just, if he cares about him, then why doesn’t he get real help?
“Are you, like, Adrian’s friend? Or are you the reason he ended up nearly drowning in the first place?” Brody asks because he wants to know. It occurs to him belatedly that it’s probably too pointed a question when you’re being held at gunpoint.
The guy huffs a bit. “I thought you said this was the guy who saved him last time?” he asks, clearly directing the question at Mitch.
“He did,” Mitch says. “And he got shot and passed out before I could resuscitate Adrian. And I promised you outside Adrian’s hospital room: I didn’t tell anyone. I keep my promises.”
Yeah, that’s a good quality, but Brody thinks it should only apply to non-criminals.
That doesn’t work; Brody is technically a criminal, too.
But a reformed one.
This dude doesn’t exactly seem to have turned over any new leaves.
At least Mitch’s comments make him thoughtful, even if Brody’s questions are entirely ignored.
“I kept my promise,” Mitch said. “What about yours?”
This made the gun jar into Brody’s back again; he misses a step almost. “I did what I could. It’s not that easy.”
Mitch glances back, clearly unimpressed by the answer. Brody is unimpressed by all of it, across the board, but he’s not about to express that so plainly. “I told you I didn’t want any more of your shit on my beach.”
“Well, we’re not on your beach,” the guy says, directing them a little faster toward the water where the boat is moored. “At least, we won’t be for long.”
This is not any sort of consolation.
“But Adrian’s still in trouble, and I have a feeling it’s not a coincidence,” Mitch concludes.
The guy directs them into the surf now, and Brody spares a glance back down the beach, as if hoping for some kind of reprieve.
There’s none coming, and Mitch continues his march to the boat almost indifferently.
“What’s happening isn’t Adrian’s fault,” the guy insists.
“So then why not call for real help?” Brody asks. “I mean, if he’s innocent--”
Mitch casts him a look, and Brody feels the gun twists, its muzzle a little firmer against his skin.
He closes his mouth because he can answer his own question.
This situation may not be Adrian’s fault, but he’s sure as hell not innocent.
So who the hell is?
Given the look on the guy’s face and the way he’s still holding Brody at tense gunpoint, he can kind of guess who is. Because you don’t kidnap people for no good reason. You do it when you’re desperate, when you’re scared.
When you’re guilty.
“What’s your name anyway?” Mitch asks, and the water is deeper, up to their waists as they reach the boat. “If we’re going to be on this rescue together, we should be able to communicate.”
The guy prods Brody to get up, keeping the gun close as Brody clambers awkwardly on board. “Deran,” he says, climbing up after Brody before quickly pressing the gun to him again as Mitch got on board. “I’ll tell you what you need to know when we set out.”
Somehow, Brody is skeptical that that’s going to make this situation better.
-o-
This is only Brody’s second time being held at gunpoint, so it all feels a little weird to him, but he’s really the only one. Mitch stands ready and focused, so it’s clear he’s anxious, but he seems to be funneling that energy into productive rescue measures. At least when he’d been taking down Leeds, he’d been appropriately animated. Of course, he’d been shot and poisoned at the time, so maybe this is really all to be expected.
As for Deran, he seems to be an old hat at this sort of thing. He seems on edge about this whole rescue thing, but he certainly has no qualms about threatening to shoot people who fight him.
Just Brody’s luck: he’s surrounded by crazy people. It’s a toss up to know who’s crazier -- and if one crazy is strong enough to keep the other crazy from killing them.
All in all, Brody is feeling pretty aggravated by now, but Mitch has the presence of mind to treat this like any other case.
Deran starts the engine and pulls up the anchor. He’s getting them away from the shore when Mitch finally speaks.
“So, am I going to get an explanation?” Mitch asks, sounding expectant.
At the controls, Deran seems busy. He casts a very annoyed look at Mitch, and Brody wonders if this is the time to go for the gun. While Deran is working the controls with one hand, answering Mitch’s inquiries with the rest of his attention, the gun on Brody is starting to feel a bit like an afterthought. “You don’t need an explanation,” he all but growls. He then glances at Brody, letting the gun steady a little more in his direction as if reading his thoughts. “You just need to be ready.”
“We can’t do a rescue while you’ve got a gun on us,” Mitch reasons.
And okay, that’s reasoning Brody actually likes for once.
Deran, on the other hand, not so much. “You can do all the rescuing I ask,” he says, plotting in a few coordinates to the computer system. “He can be the collateral to make you do it.”
That’s also reasoning, but it’s the stuff Brody’s less fond of.
Mitch takes it in stride with a shake of his head. “We work better as a team,” he says. Then, he tilts his head in almost a conciliatory fashion, like he’s doing Deran a favor here. “We’re already here. We’re going to finish this. You don’t need the gun.”
Deran slows down what he’s doing to eye Mitch suspiciously. “I’ve found that you can never be too careful.”
Mitch squares his shoulders this time, bringing himself to full height. “And I find that I don’t work as well when people I care about are in danger,” he says. “Put the gun down. We’re not going to try to get away.”
Brody glances at Mitch, his own anxiety ratcheting up a notch. He raises his eyebrows in silent supplication. We’re not?
It’s not a question with words, but it’s one Mitch gets all the same. He nods, steady and stolid. We’re not.
Brody swallows and looks back at Deran, who has been watching the exchange. Somehow, he’s been able to read it, too.
Reluctantly, he lowers the gun. He stands, still and erect for a moment. When no one makes a move, he slowly puts the gun in the waist of his pants. He watches another few moments, apparently accepting Mitch’s logic, before he turns back to the controls in earnest.
Brody stays still, eyes going between Mitch and Deran, waiting for some kind of cue to take action. None comes. In fact, Mitch seems to settle into his position. He’s true to his word, apparently: he’s on board for this rescue, no matter the circumstances.
That means Brody is, too, regardless of his personal feelings.
Shit.
He sighs.
Mitch ignores him like the outright bastard that he is, nodding toward Deran instead. “You still haven’t told me what happened to Adrian,” he says, and he sounds a little accusatory. It’s bolder than Brody would be. Even if Deran has put away the gun, he still doesn’t trust the guy not to shoot them just for shits and giggles. Still, Mitch presses his point. “I told you before, I wasn’t going to tolerate shit on my beach.”
Brody is used to this mentality by now; he’s mostly adopted it. That’s why he’s usually completely on board with Mitch’s cases. Because it’s their beach. They have to protect it. Brody’s spent his life looking for purpose and meaning, and he knows he could do a hell of a lot worse than Baywatch.
All the same, this seem out there, even by Baywatch standards. Being held at gunpoint would seem to be the problem, as far as Brody is concerned. Mitch is treating it like some inconsequential side effect.
And really, if any of this was a problem, then why didn’t Mitch address it in the first place? Like, before Brody had been taken hostage behind tower one?
Deran looks about as amused as Brody by this line of conversation: which is to say, he’s not amused at all. However, where Brody is reeling, Deran looks pissed off. “There’s no shit, nothing on your beach anyway,” he says tersely. He spares a moment from the controls to glare at Mitch like he thinks it will be effectively threatening. “I told you. This is a rescue.”
For most people, it probably would be threatened. Hell, Brody still feels threatened and Deran isn’t looking at him. He’s just that kind of guy, he’s got that edge. You don’t mess with guys like that.
Mitch, however, is utterly nonplussed. “I know you care about Adrian, I don’t doubt that, but that’s why none of this makes sense,” he says. “If this were a straight up rescue, no shit involved, you would have called 911. The only reason a guy like you goes DIY with someone you care about that much is if there are other factors to consider.”
That makes sense. Mitch has a knack for this kind of thing, for putting pieces together and seeing the big picture. Brody’s gotten better at it during his tenure at Baywatch, but this one has him stymied.
To be fair, though, there are extenuating circumstances. He was held at gunpoint. Also, Mitch is relying on a lot of information that apparently was revealed while he was in surgery from the last gunshot wound.
Funny that he frames it that way in his mind: the last gunshot wound. As if he’s accepted that there will be another.
Hell, maybe today. It’s still early.
Deran doesn’t look at Mitch this time, but his fingers tightened as he works the controls and his jaw locks. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The way he says it, it’s like Mitch knows exactly what he talks about. It’s kind of reassuring that Brody isn’t the only one who is caught off guard by Mitch’s conclusions.
Of course, it’s less reassuring since it seems like poking a bear with a stick. Brody can’t see the logic of aggravating the guy who has kidnapped them. Mitch’s logic, however, is very, very selective in all the most annoying ways possible.
Mitch doesn’t take the hint. Brody winces as he continues, undaunted. “I still can’t quite figure out what you think happened, though. You have to think Adrian’s alive or you wouldn’t take the time to kidnap lifeguards. Which, you chose lifeguards. So you have to think this is more than a situation that involves guns. Obviously this is all connected something you don’t want found out, but you’re scared of what you’ll find.”
Deran is growing increasingly pale as he stares at the controls.
Mitch tips his head to the side. “Does any of that sound about right?”
Deran clamps his jaw shut, and he refuses to acknowledge anything Mitch has said.
Brody, between the two, shakes his head. He leans toward Mitch. “How much of this did you know exactly after the last case? I asked you what happened after I passed out, and you said nothing.”
This bother Brody because Mitch is an honest guy. Brody trusts him -- implicitly. This omission seems like a fairly large oversight.
Larger by the minute as they get farther and farther from shore.
Leaning back toward Brody, Mitch also lowers his voice. “I made a promise.”
“But why?” Brody asks, glancing hesitantly at Deran who is still steadfastly ignoring them as they navigate out to sea.
“Because the circumstances were extenuating,” Mitch hisses back. “Sometimes you have to make a call. And sometimes people get a second chance.”
He looks at Brody when he says this, letting the words linger purposefully. If anyone knows about second chances, it’s Brody. If anyone knows about how Mitch gives out second chances even when they’re not deserved, that’s really Brody.
Still, for all that Brody was an asshole when he came to Baywatch, he wasn’t holding people at gunpoint.
Before Brody can muster up a reply, Mitch straightens again, eyes on Deran. “Chances aren’t infinite, however. If you squander them too many times, eventually you run out.”
Deran huffs, a short and bitter laugh. “I’m starting to regret taking you,” he says.
“You can drop us off, anytime,” Brody suggests.
Deran puts his hand on the gun. “I’m not sure you’d like that.”
Brody shuts his mouth promptly.
Mitch shakes his head. “Man, I lied for you. And Brody here, he risked his life for Adrian. If you didn’t owe us something, then you at least owed it to Adrian not to be here again. I know he was ready to walk away. I know it.”
This time, Deran does look at him. His blue eyes flash, a split second of pain before they harden again. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says. “It’s not as easy as you make it sound.”
Brody’s not sure what part of any of this seems easy, but he doesn’t dare interject now, not when emotions are reaching a boiling point. He knows that’s what Mitch is trying to do, trying to push Deran until he has no choice but to respond. It’s a tactic that Mitch is good at and it often yields meaningful results.
But usually they don’t try it when the other dude has a gun.
“I didn’t pursue it,” Mitch says. “I told myself, it was a rescue, not a case. I didn’t pursue it for Adrian’s sake because he wanted to do better.”
Of all the wayward things Mitch deems relevant, how is it that these crazy dudes didn’t warrant a case?
Deran breathes out, harsh and short. His cheeks are starting to burn. “I told you, this is different.”
Brody isn’t sure what different means since he’s still not sure what happened last time. Sure, he’d figured there was something shady going on, but that’d been all he knew. Once he’d gotten shot, he hadn’t really been able to think about much else, and when he woke up, Mitch had said everything was fine.
Except Mitch is now apparently a lying liar who lies.
The son of a bitch won’t even look at Brody. He stares hard at Deran. “Then what is it? We deserve to know that much.”
It’s hard to say why this is the tactic that ultimately works, but the anger drains out of Deran’s face. He looks back at the controls with something like regret. “It’s a rescue, like I said,” he repeats, but his voice sounds a little less confident. “Adrian’s a surfer.”
“Yeah, on the pro circuit,” Mitch says.
Brody looks at him aghast. “You said you didn’t even know his name!”
“Again, extenuating circumstances,” he says. “I thought you’d be safer if you didn’t know anything anyway.”
Brody glances around, taking stock of their current situation. “Good job on that one.”
Mitch rolls his eyes. To Deran, he continues, “So it’s a surfing accident?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest,” Deran says. “He spends a lot of time on the water. After the mess last time, I let him borrow my boat as often as he wants.”
“Wait, if he has your boat,” Brody says. “Then what boat is this?”
Deran looks at him. “It’s a family vehicle.”
He says that like it has some meaning. Brody, being a foster kid, has no idea what that meaning could be.
“And what, you lost contact with the boat?” Mitch assumes.
Deran looks back at Mitch, a little grateful to ignore Brody again. “Not exactly. The boat is still transmitting signals like everything is fine. But I can’t get Adrian on the radio or his cell phone. He was due back last night, but he’s been a no-show.”
Mitch shrugs. “Lost at sea. That’s a straightforward case for the Coast Guard.”
He says that all matter of fact that Brody wants to laugh. Mitch has never been one to delegate to other departments. Ever. He always finds way to make something their jurisdiction despite the fact that lifeguards have no jurisdiction ever.
Deran sighs, as if this is the inevitable point he can no longer avoid. “The Coast Guard can’t be trusted.”
“But if he’s just out for fun--”
Mitch doesn’t finish the thought. He doesn’t have to. Even Brody, who only knows, like, a fraction of what’s going on, has put this one together.
Deran’s look is withering, and Mitch looks less than impressed. He actually takes the time to cross his arms over his chest. “What does he have on board?”
Deran shrugs with a defensive stance. “I’m not his supplier; I wouldn’t know. Maybe nothing.”
“The supplier was the problem last time,” Mitch lectures him. “So why the hell--”
“It’s not the same supplier,” Deran tells him, and he looks at Mitch again. “It’s not the same.”
“Well, one supplier is the same as another,” Mitch posits.
“Not when they’re your mother,” Deran concludes. There’s an ominous air to that statement, but Brody honestly can’t figure out why.
Mothers aren’t ominous after all. Mothers give out hugs and ask about your day. They make cookies and do your laundry for you. Mothers are almost mythical creatures to Brody, and he’s been jealous of the entire world for having one when he doesn’t.
Confused, Brody can’t help himself. “Well, that doesn’t sound so bad.”
Deran is almost exasperated -- and completely resigned. “My mother is one of the most notorious crime lords in the entire state of California,” he says. “She’s brilliant, I can’t deny that. But she’s also ruthless. She doesn’t accept failure. Ever.”
People say shit like that all the time. Brody’s grown up in foster care, so, like, he gets it. But the way Deran says it -- it’s a little different. He’s not pissed off because of curfew or rules about homework. He’s vaguely afraid of this woman.
Which is crazy, right. Brody’s never actually met someone who can beat him at the bad mother contest. It’s hard not to feel a little sympathy for him, even with the situation fully considered.
Mitch does not seem to be as taken by this turn in the logic, however. He shakes his head with resignation. “I told you and I told Adrian -- you have to make better choices or these outcomes need to stop surprising you.”
Deran actually scoffs. At least Brody’s not the only one who finds Mitch’s absolute moral code a bit too simplistic for the real world sometimes. “We made sure he got out of the deal with the other suppliers so there were no outside strings attached,” he explains. “But that kind of thing isn’t easy. You have to have connections. And there’s always a price for that shit, even with family.”
Or especially with family, is the bit Deran doesn’t add.
Mitch seems to get it, too. “So in exchange for getting Adrian out of the other deal, he had to start a new deal. And that didn’t raise any red flags?”
“You can’t get away from family, not a family like mine anyway,” Deran says, shaking his head. “I’ve been thinking about an exit strategy, but it’s only been a couple of months. That kind of thing takes years.”
“Except you don’t have years,” Mitch says. “Adrian’s missing out here and there are what? Illegal drugs in the boat? Maybe some in his board?”
“Yeah, maybe,” Deran says. He’s past flinching; he’s past letting Mitch bully him around. This is a guy who kidnaps people, so the vulnerability was always going to be short lived. “And the boat is mine. If drugs are found on a family boat, then the cops are going to be chomping at the bit for a conviction.”
Brody is feeling a little sick now. This situation has started off poorly and it seems to be getting worse. Mitch is all preoccupied with Deran making better life choices. Brody is becoming a bit concerned about the consequences of this rescue mission. If it goes wrong, then these are people who will kill them. If it goes right, then these are people who will remember two people they can call in case of an emergency. In either case, this seems like it can’t have a positive outcome.
Funny how the gun is put away now and Brody has never been more convinced that this is going to end very, very badly.
“I told you, I don’t want this shit, not on my beach,” Mitch says. “Because I can’t let it pass. You know that.”
“It’s not on your beach!” Deran exclaims, a harsh gaze zeroed in on Mitch. “I kept it clear of your territory. This is a promise I kept, too.”
“But here we are,” Mitch says, and for once he actually looks at Brody with a small gesture in his direction. “We shouldn’t be here. And if you had made better choices, we wouldn’t be.”
They’re far enough from shore now that they can’t see land, and Brody is feeling like this moral lesson can probably wait until, well, never.
Deran’s face twists into a grimace of a smile. “That’s the story of my life,” he quips gruffly with a humorless laugh. “But even if I do get Adrian away from other criminals, what the hell am I going to do about my own mother? She’s not your average helicopter parent, but anything I do, she knows about. Getting her to accept Adrian was hard enough as it was. But if something has happened? If some mess up happens and is traced back to him? She’ll cut him out. That’s why it had to be you guys. That’s why the family can’t no. I wish to God she’d stayed out of my love life, but it’s family. I don’t know what the hell to do with family.”
That’s not family, Brody thinks to himself. It’s taken him long enough to learn that, but he knows it now. Family isn’t about vindication and control. Family isn’t about taking, taking, taking. Family is a balance, a back and forth. It’s wanting what’s best for another person.
Brody’s chest tightens; his stomach hurts.
That’s the point of compassion.
That’s why Mitch deems this guy worthy of a second chance.
This guy, for all that he has a mother and a family, knows less about family than Brody did when he showed up on the beach last year. This guy is just as screwed up as Brody only he doesn’t have a Baywatch to bail him out.
This guy, for all his means and resources, is going to need a hell of a lot more than a second chance.
That’s why they’re doing this rescue.
Brody sighs because he gets it now.
He does.
That doesn’t mean he has to like it.
He’s the one who speaks next. “So what do we do?”
Mitch looks at him, just a little surprised. They’re a good team, the two of them. Brody is good at following Mitch’s lead when it counts. After all this time, you might say that Mitch has come to count on Brody in times of crisis.
Times like now.
Resolved, Mitch looks back toward Deran. “Like Deran here said: this is a rescue,” he says, and then he nods to the controls. “How do you know where we’re going?”
Deran’s defensiveness abates, and he looks back down at the controls almost like he’s seeing them for the first time. This isn’t the kind of guy who can be surprised, but it’s clear that he’s new to this shit. For that reason -- and honestly, that reason alone -- Brody has some sympathy to him. Being a person with connections and a concern for the well being of others? That’s not easy stuff. It’s taken Brody this long and he still struggles with it.
Still, it’s not easy to have too much sympathy for the guy who has abducted him on gunpoint, but Brody will think about that later.
After the case.
Because yeah, it’s a case now.
“The boat has a tracking system on it,” Deran explains, and he points to a GPS signal which is on the navigation screen. “All we have to do is get there.”
Brody’s not actually all that good with electronics and technology and, well, basically most things. Ronnie has to show him how to do basic shit on the computers, like, a dozen times and he still screws it up. But even he knows hot to read the basics of a navigation chart by this time.
Of course, he spent five months getting lost on every boat ride he took, but that’s not the point. Just last week, he was able to navigate three miles off shore for a rescue with minimal guidance from Mitch.
So that doesn’t make him an expert, but he can see that they’re about five miles out from the GPS signal. Moreover, that signal isn’t going anywhere. It’s stationary to the point where Brody wonders if it’s a live feed.
“So the signal is still active,” Mitch says. As usual, Mitch is already a few steps ahead of Brody. “That means the boat’s intact and functional.”
“Yeah,” Deran says. “And it’s been here, this location, all night.”
“So it’s anchored,” Mitch concludes while Brody is still putting the pieces of information together. “Are you sure he’s not just sleeping or something?”
“He didn’t have plans to stay the night, that’s not what he does,” Deran says.
“Well, did you call him?” Brody asks, because he’s always the guy who goes for the obvious answer.
Deran does not look pleased by the question. “Of course I did,” he says. “And I’ve tried to get him on the radio. The phone rings but no one answers. There’s no indication that the radio isn’t working; he’s just not picking up on the other end.”
Brody closes his mouth, a little chagrined. Somehow, when Mitch makes assumptions, he can do it with finesse. Brody’s suggestions come across as stupid, cruel or both. You can train someone on a lot of shit, but there’s very little that can be done for Brody’s complete lack of competent interpersonal skills sometimes.
“Then why not go sooner?” Mitch asks.
“Because I had other plans last night,” Deran says, his brow darkening. “The family business is complicated. I tried texting him last night but didn’t want to let anyone know that he might be AWOL because the last thing I need is for the family to think Adrian’s a liability.”
Given that this is the second rescue regarding Adrian, Brody has to wonder if the family has a point.
Of course, Brody’s been rescued by Mitch more times than he can count in a multitude of ways, so he’s probably not one to judge.
“Besides, trust is a thing between us,” Deran says. His cheeks redden as he diverts his eyes. “I have to trust him, let him do his own shit. That’s more important than ever now that he’s got a role with the family. But sometimes, if he has to go off and do his thing, then I have to let him do that. I know he’ll come back. I know where we stand.”
“And you’re confident that this isn’t one of those times?” Mitch prompts.
Deran shakes his head, a bit more animated now. “Not like this. Not total radio silence. I knew something had happened when he didn’t give me a morning wake up call. He always gives me that, no matter where he is or what he’s doing. He can be in Australia and he still works out the timezones. That’s Adrian.”
Inexplicably -- or, you know, not so inexplicably -- Brody thinks of Summer. He wishes he’d texted her before work this morning. Then she might realize he’s missing sooner. Also because he really, really loves Summer.
Mitch is not feeling so romantic. “You talk about trust, but you seem to have no trouble finding his GPS tracking number,” he points out.
Deran’s expression hardens. “Business is still business,” he says. “All our boats our tricked out.”
“And I would assume this isn’t the first time you’ve had to track one,” Mitch says.
Deran squares his shoulder. “First time for Adrian.”
“Who has been in the business all of what, three months?” Mitch pushes.
Deran takes a menacing step toward Mitch, hand going to the gun in his waistband. “Are you going to help me or just make accusations that will get you and your friend a one-way ticket.”
Brody backs up, hands up out of instinct. He has common sense, after all.
Mitch, however, does not. He stands his ground. “I’m just trying to get a sense of what kind of rescue we’re dealing with.”
Because Mitch is good at all rescues. On the beach, deep waters, bad weather, under duress. Also, he’s good at saving idiots from themselves.
Which is why Brody is here in the first place.
Because Mitch knew how to save him.
The fact that this saving puts him continually in more danger is just whatever.
Deran does not seem readily placated by this, so Mitch softens his own expression and nods to the controls. “We’ll get there faster if you work with the currents.”
Taken aback, Deran frowns. “What?”
“The currents,” Mitch says. “We’re close to a major shipping lane. We can increase our speed if we tweak our route.”
Deran, for all that he’s been in charge of this hostage situation turned rescue, seems to finally be at a loss. He licks his lips, clearly trying to think of something to say.
“Here,” Mitch offers, and he sounds disarming now. “Let me navigate.”
Deran is reluctant on this point, but Mitch moves with an easy step toward the controls. He punches a few buttons. He nods, sparing a glance at Deran as he assume the lead of the rescue with an effortlessness that Brody will never, ever achieve.
“I’ll keep the controls,” he says. “You can keep watch, and Brody will man the radio, just to be sure.”
Deran is skeptical, to say the least. This isn’t a guy who trusts people easily. He’s the kind of guy who kidnaps people at gunpoint instead of just asking for help. It’s no wonder that Adrian has guidelines about trust in their relationship.
That said, Brody may be an asshole sometimes, but he’s a pretty good guy these days, and honestly this Deran guy doesn’t seem to care about vomiting at the Olympics and as far as he knows, Brody’s the dude who took a bullet to save his boyfriend’s life. So, that’s got to have some clout right about now.
And Mitch -- well, shit. Mitch is Mitch. Everyone trusts Mitch Buchannon. Lifeguards, beachgoers, business people, journalists, city councilors.
Deran nods his head with a swallow.
Even criminals.
“Get us there fast,” he says like it’s an order, like he’s still totally in control of this situation. Maybe he is; maybe he’s not. Brody’s not sure anymore. All he knows is that he hasn’t got a say in any of this, and that’s just the way things go.
With a gruff nod, Deran gives them both a harsh once over and then steps out onto the deck, leaving Brody and Mitch inside.
Brody watches him, wondering why he’s not concocting a dramatic escape plan or, you know, calling the cops.
But then he remembers.
Second chances.
If he gets them, then so do these guys.
God help them all.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: My lovely friend sendintheklowns has a thing for Adrian and Deran in Animal Kingdom. I have a thing for Brody and Mitch in Baywatch. She requested that I blend the two. This is the sequel to the first meeting of these fandoms. The first fic is here. This is unbeta’ed. Fills my forbidden love square on hc_bingo.
Summary: Mitch knows everyone on the beach, even gun-toting psychopaths.
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
-o-
Most people, when you save their life, are grateful. Some of them will give you hugs. It’s not uncommon to get a thank you note. From time to time, they try to bring you gifts -- fruit baskets, gift certificates, once a jet ski. You can’t accept the gifts, which Brody thinks is a shitty rule, honestly, but the gratitude is kind of nice.
Really nice, okay.
As an Olympian, he’d ben super concerned about winning and all that, and it’d he’d liked cheers and applause and giving interviews and signing autographs. Fame had been such a novelty, a world where people knew his name after a lifetime of growing up without a family to call his own. That shit mattered to him, almost as much as lucrative sponsorship deals that gave him more money than he’d ever seen in his pathetic life.
Losing all that was hard, as you might expect. Like, hard hard. Brody had crashed and burned, and by the time he showed up on Mitch’s beach to sport those stupid red trunks, he’d been about two steps away from drinking himself into oblivion. The plan had been, of course, to do his good deed, earn back the public’s good graces, train hard for the next Olympics and score big.
What had happened, by contrast, might seem like a let down to some people. Brody wasn’t exactly ruling out the Olympics, but he wasn’t worried about it. He wasn’t looking for any sponsorship deals. He didn’t give a shit whether or not anyone wanted his autograph thing.
No, Brody was down with being a lifeguard.
Being part of a team.
Being a hero.
Honestly, being a hero, making the save, that feels ten times better than winning the gold.
Okay, so not ten times better. Setting the world record in the 200 was kind of the most awesome experience of Brody’s life, but that’s the point. That was the best moment of Brody’s life, and truth be told, he’d trade that moment for Baywatch in a second.
Because Baywatch matters.
One moment doesn’t mean shit.
But a lifetime?
That’s something.
That’s everything.
So, Brody is down with this whole being a hero thing. He’s all but sold out. It makes him feel good about himself. And that’s basically never happened in his life, ever. Not even when he won two gold medals. It’s a crazy thing to do something for someone else that matters, like, really, really matters. It’s the best thing ever, frankly, to have people express gratitude like that.
Over a year in, Brody wouldn’t say he takes it for granted -- it’s still a thrill, every time -- but he knows how it works. You save a life, they’re happy. End of story.
That is how it is with most people.
Then, one day, Brody finds out the exception to the rule. Because most people will give you a hug, send you a thank you note, offer some gift.
Others?
They up and kidnap you at gunpoint.
Because of course they do.
-o-
Naturally, Brody doesn’t see it coming. He’s kind of an idiot about things like that, which is why he continually does stupid shit and fails to grasp the full range of consequences. If he was a guy with much insight, he wouldn’t have gotten super drunk the day before his last Olympic race. That’s not something you do if you see things coming.
That said, this one isn’t actually Brody’s fault.
No one would see this coming.
Not even Mitch Buchannon.
Yes, Brody takes some comfort in that because he’s petty as hell and because there’s not really any other comfort to take when some angry-looking dude sticks a gun in his face and cocks it.
“Shit,” Brody says, hands in the air. It’s early; there are a few people on the beach, but no one close by. The sun is still rising, and no one’s on duty yet. He’s there because Mitch asked him to do an equipment check on tower one before the day started and Brody’s pretty good at following Mitch’s orders most of the time.
Funny, this isn’t the first time he’s been held at gunpoint because of that.
Yeah, but this time he’s not putting his head to the trigger.
That is what you might call restraint or character growth or, you know, normal.
At any rate, Brody is about to shit his pants and he tries to think of something, anything and comes up with absolutely nothing.
“Where’s Mitch?”
Brody’s mind has sort of stopped working. “Mitch?”
The guy doesn’t like that. He doesn’t seem to realize that Brody’s a moron who actually has forgotten how to function like a coherent person at the moment. “Mitch Buchannon,” the guy says again, jabbing the gun with a menacing growl as he steps closer to Brody. “He’s a lieutenant. He mans tower one.”
The dude says this like he’s research it or something. Which, if you’re going to take someone hostage at gunpoint, you’d probably want to do a little research so maybe that makes sense.
For criminals.
Which is to say it makes no sense at all.
“Well, sure,” Brody says, fumbling a little. He has to be calm, he has to remain calm. That’s what lifeguards do. They stay calm in super stressful situations. That’s how they save lives. You can’t save anyone if you’re panicking, and that starts with yourself. “But, like, he’s not here.”
That’s a vague statement that is basically true. Mitch isn’t here. He’s in the HQ, sure, because that’s where Brody just was when Mitch told him to go.
He’s not sure if that’s information he should be sharing, honestly. Not when some dude clearly wants to put a gun in Mitch’s face.
Of course, when the alternative is a gun in Brody’s face, the question becomes a little harder to answer.
The guy shakes his head. “Where’s Buchannon?”
It’s an all-out demand now, and the gun is almost touching Brody’s chest now.
He swallows, holding his hands up as he starts to sweat, like, everywhere. “Look, let’s just calm down,” he suggests, because that sounds like something Mitch would say. It is something Mitch would say. He’d be cool and collected and he’d talk this guy down. Mitch is like that. “We can figure this out.”
The guy snarls, his face contorted with anger under his well kept beard. He’s got light hair, which is long and textured. It’s been pulled back into a hasty ponytail, and he’s not dressed for the beach in jeans on a t-shirt.
Maybe that’s kidnapping apparel.
Or, you know, the stuff you where when you set out to murder someone.
Brody feels his confidence start to falter.
“Tell me where he is!” the guy says, his voice raising so that it outmatches the sound of the morning waves. This time, the gun does press into Brody’s chest, and Brody wants to hurl.
With a stuttered breath, Brody tries and fails to swallow. “Seriously, man,” he says again, blinking rapidly as he struggles to maintain something like composure. “He’s not here.”
“I’m not shitting around,” the guy growls, this time dropping his voice as he draws closer. The gun is painfully hard in his chest and the guy is closer enough that Brody can smell the staleness of his breath. “Do you think I’m shitting around?”
“No, no,” Brody says quickly, his voice threatening to break. He wets his lips, feeling himself start to tremble. It’s not a cold morning, but the breeze off the water is cool and he’s in swim trunks and a swim shirt. Also, he’s being held at gunpoint and that messes with your central nervous system or some shit. “I get that, I do. I get it.”
“No, you don’t,” the guy says, staring Brody down hard. There’s a crazy look in his eyes, and the way he holds the gun, the way he spews his threats -- Brody gets the sense that he’s done this before. Maybe more.
“Okay,” Brody says, doing his best to diffuse the situation. That’s what Mitch talks about. Diffusing situations. That’s a thing. That’s a lifeguard thing. He’s pretty sure they’ve had training sessions about that and whatever. “We can talk about this, figure something out.”
Yeah, this dude, he doesn’t seem big on diffusing anything. This time, when he jerks forward, he reaches up and fists his fingers into Brody’s hair, giving him a shake so violent that Brody forgets about the gun in his chest for a moment. “I need Buchannon, this is his tower,” the guy says with a vicious plaintive tone. “So where is he?”
Gasping, Brody has given up all hope of composure now. He feels his eyes water and his voice sounds funny and strained when he talks. “I’m on duty here today, me,” he says because what else can he say? What else can he do? He can’t magically make Mitch turn up and seriously, at this point, does he want to? It’s not good form to take a gun-wielding maniac to find your best friend/boss/mentor/everything. It’s just not. Even Brody knows that and he’s a moron. “It’s just me.”
If Brody’s gesture is heroic or noble or whatever, this guy totally does not care. In fact, the answer only seems to infuriate him, and he lifts the gun so it’s pressed into Brody’s temple now. “Tell me how to find Buchannon or I’m going to blow your brains out.”
“Okay, okay,” Brody says, and he’s going to say anything now. Truly anything. “Maybe if we go back to HQ, maybe we can find him there. That’s where he works when he’s not in the tower, okay? That’s where he works.”
Brody feels like he’s going to vomit again, because it’s like he’s sold Mitch out. He knows, reasonably, that Mitch would want him to do this, that Mitch would deem it the responsible tactic. Mitch doesn’t want martyrs on his beach, and he believes in strength in numbers. Taking this guy to HQ increases visibility, which reduces the odds of someone getting offed.
But it also increases the chance that this guy will find Mitch and do whatever the hell he wants.
And it’s the truth is the problem.
Brody’s not able to lie very well under pressure and he’s got a gun to his head and all he can think about is telling the whole damn truth.
It works.
Or it seems to.
The guy studies Brody, as if deciding whether or not to trust him, and then he takes a step back. He removes the gun from Brody’s head, though it’s still held at the ready. “You can take me to HQ, then?”
“Yes,” Brody says through the tightness in his throat. “Yes.”
The murderous glint in the guy’s eyes is still there, but there’s something more measured in his disposition. Like he lost control there for a second but now he’s got his sense back. Now, it’s very likely his sense is still set on shooting someone, but he’s not about to go off half-cocked. That’s probably a good thing.
Or, you know, a better thing.
Maybe Brody’s done this right.
Maybe Brody’s has this under control.
Maybe Brody has managed to make this situation turn out okay.
Maybe.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Brody closes his eyes, heart sinking. He knows that voice. His stomach ties itself in a thick knot.
Maybe not.
The guy reaches out, grabbing Brody and pulling him back until his back is to this guy’s chest. The gun is pressed into his temple again. “Mitch Buchannon.”
Brody opens his eyes. Mitch is standing there, looking concerned. Maybe annoyed. Pissed off. His eyes pass over Brody, as if making sure he’s okay, before fixing on the man now holding Brody hostage. He seems to recognize the guy.
And the guy seems to recognize Mitch.
“I told you I didn’t want to see you again,” Mitch says because of course he does. Mitch knows everyone on the beach, even gun-toting psychopaths.
The guy shrugs, keeping the gun steady against Brody’s head. “And I told you it’s complicated.”
Mitch nods, lips pursed. “So tell me how you think this is going to go.”
“I think,” the guy says, nudging Brody a step forward. “That we’re going for a little ride.”
-o-
Yeah, with a gun and a menacing disposition, it’s clear that this guy expects his logic to work. Honestly, when holding someone at gunpoint and using their life as leverage, it’s not an illogical conclusion.
But Mitch’s isn’t that kind of guy.
So while this guy clearly knows Mitch.
He doesn’t know Mitch.
Which is perfect.
Really, just perfect.
In response to the order, Mitch crosses his arms over his chest and essentially plants his feet in the sand. “There’s no need for the gun.”
Yeah, so Mitch recognizes the guy but it’s pretty clear he doesn’t actually know him. He seems to wildly underestimate how much this guy likes his gun.
Behind him, Brody can feel the man shake his head with an air of dogged determination. “You need to come with me.”
And this dude, for all his ability to stand around and point guns at people looking pissed off, clearly doesn’t know Mitch. He doesn’t realize that Mitch doesn’t respond to orders even when they’re common sense. When they’re threats, he doesn’t have that typical fight or flight response that makes it easy for people to manipulate. No, Mitch is just such a stupid bastard and he’s impossible and stupid and shit, shit, shit, why is Brody the only one who understands?
“If there’s an emergency, then you just have to ask,” Mitch says reasonably. Only Mitch can act like any of this is reasonable.
The guy shakes his head again, and Brody can feel his chest hitch as he sucks in a stubborn breath. There’s almost a hint of fear in the motion, but when he talks, the words are brittle and hard. And the gun pressed against his temple is still a pretty persuasive element. “No, this is off the record,” he says, insists, demands. “Nothing can be official.”
“We’re lifeguards,” Mitch says, like that helps anything. “We don’t have the same kind of record. We’re not cops.”
This is technically true, but this is like the first time that Mitch has ever willingly admitted it. Figures he waits until Brody’s got a gun to his head. Brody’s not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe it doesn’t matter.
None of it probably matters. There’s one idiot holding a gun to his head, and there’s an idiot trying to be logical about it in front of him, and they both seem to know exactly what’s going on without having a real clue about anything that’s going on.
This is all so stupid. So stupid. And Brody’s usually the reason for stupid, and he’s not to blame this time, but that’s not doing him a lick of good and what the hell is going on here?
“You have to come,” the guy says, and there’s a hint of desperation now, that slightest edge that people get when they’re well and truly desperate and trying not to show it. Brody recognizes it because he’s had it so often.
To be fair, though, he doesn’t usually implode by taking other people hostage at gunpoint.
It takes a lot for Brody to come across as the better party.
It might make him feel a little bit better except, oh, yeah, this guy is probably going to kill him while Mitch tries to use logic to diffuse the situation.
That’s such shit, diffusing.
Shit.
Mitch seems to be thinking about all that, about the guy and what he’s saying, about Brody with the gun to his head, about how to diffuse situations like a real Baywatch lifeguard. And then he comes to his conclusion in the way that only Mitch Buchannon can. “Okay,” he says, as if conceding some point and not agreeing to go along with the plans of a gun-wielding maniac who has a gun to your best friend’s head. “What do you need me to do?”
There’s a palpable shudder of relief in the man behind him, and the gun lessens its firmness against Brody’s skin but it doesn’t move from its spot. “I have a boat, a private boat. It’s anchored not far away at the marina,” he explains. “I need you to come with me to take it out for a private rescue.”
Brody doesn’t know what the hell a private rescue is. It’s hard to imagine what kind of rescue could be so pressing to take someone hostage to complete it. A real emergency, most people give in and call 911. Even Mitch. But to take someone hostage?
That means this isn’t just a pressing rescue.
This is some screwed up version of a rescue that probably involves more people being held at gunpoint because of course it does.
“Fine,” Mitch says. “You and I can go. Brody stays back.”
For all that Brody has spent the last few minutes being pissed off at Mitch for leaving him in danger, the idea that Mitch is going to go off into danger without Brody pisses him off even more. This is quite possibly a sign that Brody has been spending way, way too much time with Mitch. He’ll contemplate that later. When he’s not being held at gunpoint and when Mitch isn’t trying to be the martyr he tells all his lifeguards not to be.
“No way,” Brody says.
Behind him, the guy says, “No way” at basically the exact same time.
This is quite ironic.
And stupid.
Brody can’t stress enough how utterly stupid this all is.
“He’s seen too much,” the guy says. “If I let him go, he’s just going to run off and call the cops and then this whole thing is for nothing.”
Yeah, so logic. All that is true.
“He’s not a part of this,” Mitch says again.
“He is now,” the guy says. Then, he pauses, something going rigid in his stance. The gun presses a little harder back into Brody’s temple. “The only way I’m leaving him behind is with a bullet in his brain.”
Despite himself, Brody inhales sharply at the threat. This guy, he reminds Brody of Mitch in one pretty important way: he probably doesn’t say a lot of shit he doesn’t mean.
For some reason, this seems to set Mitch on edge. He tightens his own posture, squaring his shoulders. “You’re going to kill the guy who saved Adrian’s life?”
Wait.
Brody’s mind fumbles to keep up.
Adrian?
The guy behind him almost freezes. “This is the guy? The one who did the rescue?”
“The one who got shot for his efforts and nearly bled out in the ocean,” Mitch confirms.
Oh.
Brody puts it together now.
The blonde guy five miles out from shore being roughed up and threatened by some goons who wanted to kill him. They had dumped him overboard while unconscious and they’d shot Brody when he refused to let the guy drown. Brody had known at the time that it was probably something shady going on, but it hadn’t mattered. Duty had come first, no matter what shit that guy had been involved with.
Oh.
The guy tightens his grip on Brody jerking him in front of him and pressing the gun to his back. “Then he’s definitely coming with us.”
-o-
By now, the sun is really starting to come up over the horizon, and there are more people on the beach. It’s mostly runners, dog walkers and a few odd surfers, and they’re all so set on doing their own thing that they hardly notice how awkwardly Brody is walking, shoulder to shoulder with Mitch as some random dude presses a gun discreetly into his back.
That’s a thing. Apparently, it’s possible to hold someone at gunpoint discreetly.
That’s a fun fact that Brody didn’t need for the day.
In his estimation, other people will have started to arrive at HQ. It won’t be long until they start to realize that something is amiss when tower one is unmanned and Mitch is a no-show. People might be able to explain away an absence from Brody -- despite the fact that he’s been totally by the book since becoming a full member, his early reputation is hard to shake -- but no one will ever overlook an absence from Mitch.
They’ll come looking, and they’ll figure out something is amiss.
Of course, they’ll be too late.
Brody can see the boat, floating just off the shore not too far away. They’re going to be off on their off-the-books rescue mission before any chance of their own rescue is possible.
This bothers Brody a lot.
Mitch is annoyingly unbothered. “So is it Adrian again?” he asks, almost conversationally like this isn’t an abduction.
Behind Brody, the guy grunts a little. “Of course it’s Adrian.”
The way he says it, it’s like he should have known better. But still, there’s regret there. Fear.
So this guy, he cares about Adrian.
It’s just, if he cares about him, then why doesn’t he get real help?
“Are you, like, Adrian’s friend? Or are you the reason he ended up nearly drowning in the first place?” Brody asks because he wants to know. It occurs to him belatedly that it’s probably too pointed a question when you’re being held at gunpoint.
The guy huffs a bit. “I thought you said this was the guy who saved him last time?” he asks, clearly directing the question at Mitch.
“He did,” Mitch says. “And he got shot and passed out before I could resuscitate Adrian. And I promised you outside Adrian’s hospital room: I didn’t tell anyone. I keep my promises.”
Yeah, that’s a good quality, but Brody thinks it should only apply to non-criminals.
That doesn’t work; Brody is technically a criminal, too.
But a reformed one.
This dude doesn’t exactly seem to have turned over any new leaves.
At least Mitch’s comments make him thoughtful, even if Brody’s questions are entirely ignored.
“I kept my promise,” Mitch said. “What about yours?”
This made the gun jar into Brody’s back again; he misses a step almost. “I did what I could. It’s not that easy.”
Mitch glances back, clearly unimpressed by the answer. Brody is unimpressed by all of it, across the board, but he’s not about to express that so plainly. “I told you I didn’t want any more of your shit on my beach.”
“Well, we’re not on your beach,” the guy says, directing them a little faster toward the water where the boat is moored. “At least, we won’t be for long.”
This is not any sort of consolation.
“But Adrian’s still in trouble, and I have a feeling it’s not a coincidence,” Mitch concludes.
The guy directs them into the surf now, and Brody spares a glance back down the beach, as if hoping for some kind of reprieve.
There’s none coming, and Mitch continues his march to the boat almost indifferently.
“What’s happening isn’t Adrian’s fault,” the guy insists.
“So then why not call for real help?” Brody asks. “I mean, if he’s innocent--”
Mitch casts him a look, and Brody feels the gun twists, its muzzle a little firmer against his skin.
He closes his mouth because he can answer his own question.
This situation may not be Adrian’s fault, but he’s sure as hell not innocent.
So who the hell is?
Given the look on the guy’s face and the way he’s still holding Brody at tense gunpoint, he can kind of guess who is. Because you don’t kidnap people for no good reason. You do it when you’re desperate, when you’re scared.
When you’re guilty.
“What’s your name anyway?” Mitch asks, and the water is deeper, up to their waists as they reach the boat. “If we’re going to be on this rescue together, we should be able to communicate.”
The guy prods Brody to get up, keeping the gun close as Brody clambers awkwardly on board. “Deran,” he says, climbing up after Brody before quickly pressing the gun to him again as Mitch got on board. “I’ll tell you what you need to know when we set out.”
Somehow, Brody is skeptical that that’s going to make this situation better.
-o-
This is only Brody’s second time being held at gunpoint, so it all feels a little weird to him, but he’s really the only one. Mitch stands ready and focused, so it’s clear he’s anxious, but he seems to be funneling that energy into productive rescue measures. At least when he’d been taking down Leeds, he’d been appropriately animated. Of course, he’d been shot and poisoned at the time, so maybe this is really all to be expected.
As for Deran, he seems to be an old hat at this sort of thing. He seems on edge about this whole rescue thing, but he certainly has no qualms about threatening to shoot people who fight him.
Just Brody’s luck: he’s surrounded by crazy people. It’s a toss up to know who’s crazier -- and if one crazy is strong enough to keep the other crazy from killing them.
All in all, Brody is feeling pretty aggravated by now, but Mitch has the presence of mind to treat this like any other case.
Deran starts the engine and pulls up the anchor. He’s getting them away from the shore when Mitch finally speaks.
“So, am I going to get an explanation?” Mitch asks, sounding expectant.
At the controls, Deran seems busy. He casts a very annoyed look at Mitch, and Brody wonders if this is the time to go for the gun. While Deran is working the controls with one hand, answering Mitch’s inquiries with the rest of his attention, the gun on Brody is starting to feel a bit like an afterthought. “You don’t need an explanation,” he all but growls. He then glances at Brody, letting the gun steady a little more in his direction as if reading his thoughts. “You just need to be ready.”
“We can’t do a rescue while you’ve got a gun on us,” Mitch reasons.
And okay, that’s reasoning Brody actually likes for once.
Deran, on the other hand, not so much. “You can do all the rescuing I ask,” he says, plotting in a few coordinates to the computer system. “He can be the collateral to make you do it.”
That’s also reasoning, but it’s the stuff Brody’s less fond of.
Mitch takes it in stride with a shake of his head. “We work better as a team,” he says. Then, he tilts his head in almost a conciliatory fashion, like he’s doing Deran a favor here. “We’re already here. We’re going to finish this. You don’t need the gun.”
Deran slows down what he’s doing to eye Mitch suspiciously. “I’ve found that you can never be too careful.”
Mitch squares his shoulders this time, bringing himself to full height. “And I find that I don’t work as well when people I care about are in danger,” he says. “Put the gun down. We’re not going to try to get away.”
Brody glances at Mitch, his own anxiety ratcheting up a notch. He raises his eyebrows in silent supplication. We’re not?
It’s not a question with words, but it’s one Mitch gets all the same. He nods, steady and stolid. We’re not.
Brody swallows and looks back at Deran, who has been watching the exchange. Somehow, he’s been able to read it, too.
Reluctantly, he lowers the gun. He stands, still and erect for a moment. When no one makes a move, he slowly puts the gun in the waist of his pants. He watches another few moments, apparently accepting Mitch’s logic, before he turns back to the controls in earnest.
Brody stays still, eyes going between Mitch and Deran, waiting for some kind of cue to take action. None comes. In fact, Mitch seems to settle into his position. He’s true to his word, apparently: he’s on board for this rescue, no matter the circumstances.
That means Brody is, too, regardless of his personal feelings.
Shit.
He sighs.
Mitch ignores him like the outright bastard that he is, nodding toward Deran instead. “You still haven’t told me what happened to Adrian,” he says, and he sounds a little accusatory. It’s bolder than Brody would be. Even if Deran has put away the gun, he still doesn’t trust the guy not to shoot them just for shits and giggles. Still, Mitch presses his point. “I told you before, I wasn’t going to tolerate shit on my beach.”
Brody is used to this mentality by now; he’s mostly adopted it. That’s why he’s usually completely on board with Mitch’s cases. Because it’s their beach. They have to protect it. Brody’s spent his life looking for purpose and meaning, and he knows he could do a hell of a lot worse than Baywatch.
All the same, this seem out there, even by Baywatch standards. Being held at gunpoint would seem to be the problem, as far as Brody is concerned. Mitch is treating it like some inconsequential side effect.
And really, if any of this was a problem, then why didn’t Mitch address it in the first place? Like, before Brody had been taken hostage behind tower one?
Deran looks about as amused as Brody by this line of conversation: which is to say, he’s not amused at all. However, where Brody is reeling, Deran looks pissed off. “There’s no shit, nothing on your beach anyway,” he says tersely. He spares a moment from the controls to glare at Mitch like he thinks it will be effectively threatening. “I told you. This is a rescue.”
For most people, it probably would be threatened. Hell, Brody still feels threatened and Deran isn’t looking at him. He’s just that kind of guy, he’s got that edge. You don’t mess with guys like that.
Mitch, however, is utterly nonplussed. “I know you care about Adrian, I don’t doubt that, but that’s why none of this makes sense,” he says. “If this were a straight up rescue, no shit involved, you would have called 911. The only reason a guy like you goes DIY with someone you care about that much is if there are other factors to consider.”
That makes sense. Mitch has a knack for this kind of thing, for putting pieces together and seeing the big picture. Brody’s gotten better at it during his tenure at Baywatch, but this one has him stymied.
To be fair, though, there are extenuating circumstances. He was held at gunpoint. Also, Mitch is relying on a lot of information that apparently was revealed while he was in surgery from the last gunshot wound.
Funny that he frames it that way in his mind: the last gunshot wound. As if he’s accepted that there will be another.
Hell, maybe today. It’s still early.
Deran doesn’t look at Mitch this time, but his fingers tightened as he works the controls and his jaw locks. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The way he says it, it’s like Mitch knows exactly what he talks about. It’s kind of reassuring that Brody isn’t the only one who is caught off guard by Mitch’s conclusions.
Of course, it’s less reassuring since it seems like poking a bear with a stick. Brody can’t see the logic of aggravating the guy who has kidnapped them. Mitch’s logic, however, is very, very selective in all the most annoying ways possible.
Mitch doesn’t take the hint. Brody winces as he continues, undaunted. “I still can’t quite figure out what you think happened, though. You have to think Adrian’s alive or you wouldn’t take the time to kidnap lifeguards. Which, you chose lifeguards. So you have to think this is more than a situation that involves guns. Obviously this is all connected something you don’t want found out, but you’re scared of what you’ll find.”
Deran is growing increasingly pale as he stares at the controls.
Mitch tips his head to the side. “Does any of that sound about right?”
Deran clamps his jaw shut, and he refuses to acknowledge anything Mitch has said.
Brody, between the two, shakes his head. He leans toward Mitch. “How much of this did you know exactly after the last case? I asked you what happened after I passed out, and you said nothing.”
This bother Brody because Mitch is an honest guy. Brody trusts him -- implicitly. This omission seems like a fairly large oversight.
Larger by the minute as they get farther and farther from shore.
Leaning back toward Brody, Mitch also lowers his voice. “I made a promise.”
“But why?” Brody asks, glancing hesitantly at Deran who is still steadfastly ignoring them as they navigate out to sea.
“Because the circumstances were extenuating,” Mitch hisses back. “Sometimes you have to make a call. And sometimes people get a second chance.”
He looks at Brody when he says this, letting the words linger purposefully. If anyone knows about second chances, it’s Brody. If anyone knows about how Mitch gives out second chances even when they’re not deserved, that’s really Brody.
Still, for all that Brody was an asshole when he came to Baywatch, he wasn’t holding people at gunpoint.
Before Brody can muster up a reply, Mitch straightens again, eyes on Deran. “Chances aren’t infinite, however. If you squander them too many times, eventually you run out.”
Deran huffs, a short and bitter laugh. “I’m starting to regret taking you,” he says.
“You can drop us off, anytime,” Brody suggests.
Deran puts his hand on the gun. “I’m not sure you’d like that.”
Brody shuts his mouth promptly.
Mitch shakes his head. “Man, I lied for you. And Brody here, he risked his life for Adrian. If you didn’t owe us something, then you at least owed it to Adrian not to be here again. I know he was ready to walk away. I know it.”
This time, Deran does look at him. His blue eyes flash, a split second of pain before they harden again. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says. “It’s not as easy as you make it sound.”
Brody’s not sure what part of any of this seems easy, but he doesn’t dare interject now, not when emotions are reaching a boiling point. He knows that’s what Mitch is trying to do, trying to push Deran until he has no choice but to respond. It’s a tactic that Mitch is good at and it often yields meaningful results.
But usually they don’t try it when the other dude has a gun.
“I didn’t pursue it,” Mitch says. “I told myself, it was a rescue, not a case. I didn’t pursue it for Adrian’s sake because he wanted to do better.”
Of all the wayward things Mitch deems relevant, how is it that these crazy dudes didn’t warrant a case?
Deran breathes out, harsh and short. His cheeks are starting to burn. “I told you, this is different.”
Brody isn’t sure what different means since he’s still not sure what happened last time. Sure, he’d figured there was something shady going on, but that’d been all he knew. Once he’d gotten shot, he hadn’t really been able to think about much else, and when he woke up, Mitch had said everything was fine.
Except Mitch is now apparently a lying liar who lies.
The son of a bitch won’t even look at Brody. He stares hard at Deran. “Then what is it? We deserve to know that much.”
It’s hard to say why this is the tactic that ultimately works, but the anger drains out of Deran’s face. He looks back at the controls with something like regret. “It’s a rescue, like I said,” he repeats, but his voice sounds a little less confident. “Adrian’s a surfer.”
“Yeah, on the pro circuit,” Mitch says.
Brody looks at him aghast. “You said you didn’t even know his name!”
“Again, extenuating circumstances,” he says. “I thought you’d be safer if you didn’t know anything anyway.”
Brody glances around, taking stock of their current situation. “Good job on that one.”
Mitch rolls his eyes. To Deran, he continues, “So it’s a surfing accident?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest,” Deran says. “He spends a lot of time on the water. After the mess last time, I let him borrow my boat as often as he wants.”
“Wait, if he has your boat,” Brody says. “Then what boat is this?”
Deran looks at him. “It’s a family vehicle.”
He says that like it has some meaning. Brody, being a foster kid, has no idea what that meaning could be.
“And what, you lost contact with the boat?” Mitch assumes.
Deran looks back at Mitch, a little grateful to ignore Brody again. “Not exactly. The boat is still transmitting signals like everything is fine. But I can’t get Adrian on the radio or his cell phone. He was due back last night, but he’s been a no-show.”
Mitch shrugs. “Lost at sea. That’s a straightforward case for the Coast Guard.”
He says that all matter of fact that Brody wants to laugh. Mitch has never been one to delegate to other departments. Ever. He always finds way to make something their jurisdiction despite the fact that lifeguards have no jurisdiction ever.
Deran sighs, as if this is the inevitable point he can no longer avoid. “The Coast Guard can’t be trusted.”
“But if he’s just out for fun--”
Mitch doesn’t finish the thought. He doesn’t have to. Even Brody, who only knows, like, a fraction of what’s going on, has put this one together.
Deran’s look is withering, and Mitch looks less than impressed. He actually takes the time to cross his arms over his chest. “What does he have on board?”
Deran shrugs with a defensive stance. “I’m not his supplier; I wouldn’t know. Maybe nothing.”
“The supplier was the problem last time,” Mitch lectures him. “So why the hell--”
“It’s not the same supplier,” Deran tells him, and he looks at Mitch again. “It’s not the same.”
“Well, one supplier is the same as another,” Mitch posits.
“Not when they’re your mother,” Deran concludes. There’s an ominous air to that statement, but Brody honestly can’t figure out why.
Mothers aren’t ominous after all. Mothers give out hugs and ask about your day. They make cookies and do your laundry for you. Mothers are almost mythical creatures to Brody, and he’s been jealous of the entire world for having one when he doesn’t.
Confused, Brody can’t help himself. “Well, that doesn’t sound so bad.”
Deran is almost exasperated -- and completely resigned. “My mother is one of the most notorious crime lords in the entire state of California,” he says. “She’s brilliant, I can’t deny that. But she’s also ruthless. She doesn’t accept failure. Ever.”
People say shit like that all the time. Brody’s grown up in foster care, so, like, he gets it. But the way Deran says it -- it’s a little different. He’s not pissed off because of curfew or rules about homework. He’s vaguely afraid of this woman.
Which is crazy, right. Brody’s never actually met someone who can beat him at the bad mother contest. It’s hard not to feel a little sympathy for him, even with the situation fully considered.
Mitch does not seem to be as taken by this turn in the logic, however. He shakes his head with resignation. “I told you and I told Adrian -- you have to make better choices or these outcomes need to stop surprising you.”
Deran actually scoffs. At least Brody’s not the only one who finds Mitch’s absolute moral code a bit too simplistic for the real world sometimes. “We made sure he got out of the deal with the other suppliers so there were no outside strings attached,” he explains. “But that kind of thing isn’t easy. You have to have connections. And there’s always a price for that shit, even with family.”
Or especially with family, is the bit Deran doesn’t add.
Mitch seems to get it, too. “So in exchange for getting Adrian out of the other deal, he had to start a new deal. And that didn’t raise any red flags?”
“You can’t get away from family, not a family like mine anyway,” Deran says, shaking his head. “I’ve been thinking about an exit strategy, but it’s only been a couple of months. That kind of thing takes years.”
“Except you don’t have years,” Mitch says. “Adrian’s missing out here and there are what? Illegal drugs in the boat? Maybe some in his board?”
“Yeah, maybe,” Deran says. He’s past flinching; he’s past letting Mitch bully him around. This is a guy who kidnaps people, so the vulnerability was always going to be short lived. “And the boat is mine. If drugs are found on a family boat, then the cops are going to be chomping at the bit for a conviction.”
Brody is feeling a little sick now. This situation has started off poorly and it seems to be getting worse. Mitch is all preoccupied with Deran making better life choices. Brody is becoming a bit concerned about the consequences of this rescue mission. If it goes wrong, then these are people who will kill them. If it goes right, then these are people who will remember two people they can call in case of an emergency. In either case, this seems like it can’t have a positive outcome.
Funny how the gun is put away now and Brody has never been more convinced that this is going to end very, very badly.
“I told you, I don’t want this shit, not on my beach,” Mitch says. “Because I can’t let it pass. You know that.”
“It’s not on your beach!” Deran exclaims, a harsh gaze zeroed in on Mitch. “I kept it clear of your territory. This is a promise I kept, too.”
“But here we are,” Mitch says, and for once he actually looks at Brody with a small gesture in his direction. “We shouldn’t be here. And if you had made better choices, we wouldn’t be.”
They’re far enough from shore now that they can’t see land, and Brody is feeling like this moral lesson can probably wait until, well, never.
Deran’s face twists into a grimace of a smile. “That’s the story of my life,” he quips gruffly with a humorless laugh. “But even if I do get Adrian away from other criminals, what the hell am I going to do about my own mother? She’s not your average helicopter parent, but anything I do, she knows about. Getting her to accept Adrian was hard enough as it was. But if something has happened? If some mess up happens and is traced back to him? She’ll cut him out. That’s why it had to be you guys. That’s why the family can’t no. I wish to God she’d stayed out of my love life, but it’s family. I don’t know what the hell to do with family.”
That’s not family, Brody thinks to himself. It’s taken him long enough to learn that, but he knows it now. Family isn’t about vindication and control. Family isn’t about taking, taking, taking. Family is a balance, a back and forth. It’s wanting what’s best for another person.
Brody’s chest tightens; his stomach hurts.
That’s the point of compassion.
That’s why Mitch deems this guy worthy of a second chance.
This guy, for all that he has a mother and a family, knows less about family than Brody did when he showed up on the beach last year. This guy is just as screwed up as Brody only he doesn’t have a Baywatch to bail him out.
This guy, for all his means and resources, is going to need a hell of a lot more than a second chance.
That’s why they’re doing this rescue.
Brody sighs because he gets it now.
He does.
That doesn’t mean he has to like it.
He’s the one who speaks next. “So what do we do?”
Mitch looks at him, just a little surprised. They’re a good team, the two of them. Brody is good at following Mitch’s lead when it counts. After all this time, you might say that Mitch has come to count on Brody in times of crisis.
Times like now.
Resolved, Mitch looks back toward Deran. “Like Deran here said: this is a rescue,” he says, and then he nods to the controls. “How do you know where we’re going?”
Deran’s defensiveness abates, and he looks back down at the controls almost like he’s seeing them for the first time. This isn’t the kind of guy who can be surprised, but it’s clear that he’s new to this shit. For that reason -- and honestly, that reason alone -- Brody has some sympathy to him. Being a person with connections and a concern for the well being of others? That’s not easy stuff. It’s taken Brody this long and he still struggles with it.
Still, it’s not easy to have too much sympathy for the guy who has abducted him on gunpoint, but Brody will think about that later.
After the case.
Because yeah, it’s a case now.
“The boat has a tracking system on it,” Deran explains, and he points to a GPS signal which is on the navigation screen. “All we have to do is get there.”
Brody’s not actually all that good with electronics and technology and, well, basically most things. Ronnie has to show him how to do basic shit on the computers, like, a dozen times and he still screws it up. But even he knows hot to read the basics of a navigation chart by this time.
Of course, he spent five months getting lost on every boat ride he took, but that’s not the point. Just last week, he was able to navigate three miles off shore for a rescue with minimal guidance from Mitch.
So that doesn’t make him an expert, but he can see that they’re about five miles out from the GPS signal. Moreover, that signal isn’t going anywhere. It’s stationary to the point where Brody wonders if it’s a live feed.
“So the signal is still active,” Mitch says. As usual, Mitch is already a few steps ahead of Brody. “That means the boat’s intact and functional.”
“Yeah,” Deran says. “And it’s been here, this location, all night.”
“So it’s anchored,” Mitch concludes while Brody is still putting the pieces of information together. “Are you sure he’s not just sleeping or something?”
“He didn’t have plans to stay the night, that’s not what he does,” Deran says.
“Well, did you call him?” Brody asks, because he’s always the guy who goes for the obvious answer.
Deran does not look pleased by the question. “Of course I did,” he says. “And I’ve tried to get him on the radio. The phone rings but no one answers. There’s no indication that the radio isn’t working; he’s just not picking up on the other end.”
Brody closes his mouth, a little chagrined. Somehow, when Mitch makes assumptions, he can do it with finesse. Brody’s suggestions come across as stupid, cruel or both. You can train someone on a lot of shit, but there’s very little that can be done for Brody’s complete lack of competent interpersonal skills sometimes.
“Then why not go sooner?” Mitch asks.
“Because I had other plans last night,” Deran says, his brow darkening. “The family business is complicated. I tried texting him last night but didn’t want to let anyone know that he might be AWOL because the last thing I need is for the family to think Adrian’s a liability.”
Given that this is the second rescue regarding Adrian, Brody has to wonder if the family has a point.
Of course, Brody’s been rescued by Mitch more times than he can count in a multitude of ways, so he’s probably not one to judge.
“Besides, trust is a thing between us,” Deran says. His cheeks redden as he diverts his eyes. “I have to trust him, let him do his own shit. That’s more important than ever now that he’s got a role with the family. But sometimes, if he has to go off and do his thing, then I have to let him do that. I know he’ll come back. I know where we stand.”
“And you’re confident that this isn’t one of those times?” Mitch prompts.
Deran shakes his head, a bit more animated now. “Not like this. Not total radio silence. I knew something had happened when he didn’t give me a morning wake up call. He always gives me that, no matter where he is or what he’s doing. He can be in Australia and he still works out the timezones. That’s Adrian.”
Inexplicably -- or, you know, not so inexplicably -- Brody thinks of Summer. He wishes he’d texted her before work this morning. Then she might realize he’s missing sooner. Also because he really, really loves Summer.
Mitch is not feeling so romantic. “You talk about trust, but you seem to have no trouble finding his GPS tracking number,” he points out.
Deran’s expression hardens. “Business is still business,” he says. “All our boats our tricked out.”
“And I would assume this isn’t the first time you’ve had to track one,” Mitch says.
Deran squares his shoulder. “First time for Adrian.”
“Who has been in the business all of what, three months?” Mitch pushes.
Deran takes a menacing step toward Mitch, hand going to the gun in his waistband. “Are you going to help me or just make accusations that will get you and your friend a one-way ticket.”
Brody backs up, hands up out of instinct. He has common sense, after all.
Mitch, however, does not. He stands his ground. “I’m just trying to get a sense of what kind of rescue we’re dealing with.”
Because Mitch is good at all rescues. On the beach, deep waters, bad weather, under duress. Also, he’s good at saving idiots from themselves.
Which is why Brody is here in the first place.
Because Mitch knew how to save him.
The fact that this saving puts him continually in more danger is just whatever.
Deran does not seem readily placated by this, so Mitch softens his own expression and nods to the controls. “We’ll get there faster if you work with the currents.”
Taken aback, Deran frowns. “What?”
“The currents,” Mitch says. “We’re close to a major shipping lane. We can increase our speed if we tweak our route.”
Deran, for all that he’s been in charge of this hostage situation turned rescue, seems to finally be at a loss. He licks his lips, clearly trying to think of something to say.
“Here,” Mitch offers, and he sounds disarming now. “Let me navigate.”
Deran is reluctant on this point, but Mitch moves with an easy step toward the controls. He punches a few buttons. He nods, sparing a glance at Deran as he assume the lead of the rescue with an effortlessness that Brody will never, ever achieve.
“I’ll keep the controls,” he says. “You can keep watch, and Brody will man the radio, just to be sure.”
Deran is skeptical, to say the least. This isn’t a guy who trusts people easily. He’s the kind of guy who kidnaps people at gunpoint instead of just asking for help. It’s no wonder that Adrian has guidelines about trust in their relationship.
That said, Brody may be an asshole sometimes, but he’s a pretty good guy these days, and honestly this Deran guy doesn’t seem to care about vomiting at the Olympics and as far as he knows, Brody’s the dude who took a bullet to save his boyfriend’s life. So, that’s got to have some clout right about now.
And Mitch -- well, shit. Mitch is Mitch. Everyone trusts Mitch Buchannon. Lifeguards, beachgoers, business people, journalists, city councilors.
Deran nods his head with a swallow.
Even criminals.
“Get us there fast,” he says like it’s an order, like he’s still totally in control of this situation. Maybe he is; maybe he’s not. Brody’s not sure anymore. All he knows is that he hasn’t got a say in any of this, and that’s just the way things go.
With a gruff nod, Deran gives them both a harsh once over and then steps out onto the deck, leaving Brody and Mitch inside.
Brody watches him, wondering why he’s not concocting a dramatic escape plan or, you know, calling the cops.
But then he remembers.
Second chances.
If he gets them, then so do these guys.
God help them all.