Baywatch/Animal Kingdom: Extenuating Circumstances (3/6)
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
-o-
The fact that this whole thing might get Adrian and Deran both killed is really tragic. It’s the stuff of great romances, star crossed lovers and shit like that.
The fact that Brody and Mitch might get killed…
Well, that seems increasingly like a foregone conclusion.
And, really, it doesn’t add anything to the story. It’s collateral damage. A footnote. It’s just shitty, and nothing Brody can think about seems to make that any better.
After tending to Adrian’s injuries, they lapse into silence. This isn’t the kind of place where you make small talk; even Mitch seems willing to concede that point. Besides, the idea of tending Adrian’s injuries is a bit of an overstatement. They may assess Adrian, but there’s nothing they can do for him except try to make him comfortable. Eventually, Adrian drifts back to sleep, slipping in and out of awareness every so often.
Mitch and Brody exchange tense looks, but neither of them dare say anything. While Brody is concerned with not getting killed, like, you know, a normal person, he suspects that Mitch is framing this silence as a strategy, like they don’t want to tip their hand.
Brody doesn’t have the heart to tell him that they don’t have a hand. They have ropes on their wrists and a dude with a gun who probably will kill them before this is over. That’s, like, the worst hand ever.
Of course, about the time Brody comes to that auspicious conclusion, it all gets worse.
Because of course it does.
Brody’s life is an exercise in things going from bad to worse to are you kidding me. He might have thought that heaving in the pool at the Olympics during a race would have been rock bottom.
When the bad guy brings Deran back out at gunpoint, however, Brody finds out otherwise.
“That wasn’t so hard,” the bad guy is saying, like he’s been trying to convince Deran of this for awhile. They’ve been back there maybe 20 minutes, so it’s clearly been a hard sell if the vehement look of abject disdain on Deran’s face is any indication. The bad guy seems to like that fact and he smirks as hs prods Deran with a gun until he sits down next to Brody. “All you had to do was make one little phone call.”
For Mitch and Brody, Adrian has managed to be semiconscious on and off.
For Deran, the dude is at total full alert.
Brody resents that a little bit, even though he knows he shouldn’t.
Not that anyone cares to notice, however.
“Deran,” Adrian says -- croaks, really. He sounds so bad that Brody feels a little guilty for his resentment a second before. “You didn’t…”
Deran huffs and his jaw tightens. “I had to.”
“It was just a family phone call, that’s all,” the bad guy says. He smiles, but he’s still holding the gun, like, super casually. Clearly, he does this a lot too often. “A little boy calling his mommy for help.”
Adrian looks like he’s about to cry now, and Brody manages to feel like even more of an asshole. “You can’t.”
Deran snorts, glaring up at the bad guy. “Not much choice,” he says. “It’s the only way to save your life. And to save you, I’d do anything.”
That’s the thing that counts, that’s the core of this. That’s why Adrian didn’t want Deran to come and that’s why Deran had to come, even if it meat abducting two innocent people in the process. These two idiots loved each other. Like, really loved each other. Brody tries to imagine what he’d do if someone captured Summer, but it’s hard to imagine. If only because there’s no way to blackmail Brody. Who’s he going to call for help? Mitch.
That might work actually.
As Brody contemplates this, the conversation goes on around him.
“Told you it would work,” the bad guy herding Deran says to the other guy. “Not a single hitch in this whole thing.”
“We’ve got two extra people here,” the guy says, bobbing his head toward the hostages. It takes Brody a moment to realize that the two extra people he’s referring to are himself and Mitch. “That’s a little bit of a hitch.”
“Eh,” the guy says. “Dead weight. We can cut them loose.”
Brody blinks, not sure what that means.
Across, on Adrian’s other side, Mitch sits up a lot straighter. He apparently gets the gist immediately. “Wait, what?”
The first guy shrugs. “I mean, it’s nothing personal,” he says, looking back at them again. “But you weren’t part of the package. Nobody’s coming to pay your ransom.”
Ransom. Dead weight.
Brody blinks a few more times, and his stomach churns like he’s going to hurl.
Oh shit.
“Whoa,” Brody says. “You’re going to kill us?”
The first dude rolls his eyes. “So dramatic,” he says. “It’s just good business.”
“Well, we should do it, then,” the second adds in, like he hasn’t been all friendly with Mitch in the interim. Shit, these guys are bastards. Like, real bastards. He gets to his feet and takes out his own gun and nods toward the side of the boat. “Unload them here before the meet.”
“I think that’s a mistake,” Mitch says.
Brody is gaping because it’s not a mistake. These dudes, they really do want to kill them. The mistake is that they’re here at all and there’s nothing Brody can do about any of this.
Mitch looks over at Deran, eyes hard. “Tell them it’s a mistake.”
Deran shrugs, and the dude doesn’t look all that sorry. Sure, he looks a little sorry, but not sorry enough for the fact that these two are talking about putting bullets in their heads and it’s all Deran’s fault. “My mom’s not the kind who does good deeds,” he says. “I had to convince her that Adrian was an investment.”
He shrugs again, like that’s that.
Brody looks at him incredulously. “You kidnapped us! That makes you responsible!”
“I was never going to kill you, though,” Deran says.
“I think if we all talk reasonably, we can figure this out,” Mitch says, cutting through the shit. He looks back at the men with guns who have drawn closer during the conversational melee. “I don’t think you know who I am. I’m a Baywatch lifeguard. I have connections--”
“Unless you have half a million, I don’t give a shit,” the first guy says.
The second cocks his gun.
Brody’s about to shit himself. Mitch is still trying to negotiate. Deran has looked away.
It’s Adrian who cuts through it all. “No, no way,” he says, and he’s not talking to the goons. He’s not talking to Mitch or Brody. He’s talking to Deran. “You’re better than this, Deran. You have to be better than this.”
Deran scoffs, but he looks up. His eyes are tormented and his face is rigid. “I’m not going to apologize for choosing you, okay? I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, but you’re why I’m here. I came here for you, and I will leave with you no matter what.”
“You already sold your soul to your mother for this,” Adrian says, and his breathing is more strained than ever. “I can’t even imagine how much you had to give her.”
Deran closes his mouth and refuses to acknowledge anything.
“So, what’s a little more? Deran, please,” he says, and beaten, bloodied and breathless, he makes a compelling case.
Across Brody, Deran hisses. “I came for you.”
“And you brought them,” Adrian says back. “We can’t keep running from the consequences, man. Being with you costs us both a lot, but it can’t cost this. We’ve made so many compromises already, but not this.”
Brody finds himself nodding along. Because Adrian’s right to talk about true love and compromise and whatever. Brody doesn’t give a shit as long as it means he’s not going to die today.
Everyone seems to be holding their breaths, and Deran breathes out heavily through his nose. Tearing his gaze from Adrian, he looks back up at the bad guys. “How much for the lifeguards?”
This causes the first guy to laugh as if this is possibly the funniest thing he’s heard all day. The other guy, the one who Brody thought kind of liked them, seems annoyed by the question and he rolls his eyes. “Seriously?” the first guy asks. “How much for the lifeguards?”
Deran looks less pleased than all of them combined. Tersely, he doesn’t look away. “They’re inconsequential to you. They’re not going to be a problem for you.”
“They’re witnesses,” the second growls at him.
The first nods. “That does make them infinitely more important to us. I’m not throwing in a freebie. Or two.”
“Well, how about this then?” Deran says with a defiant shrug. “You throw them in safe and sound, or I call the whole thing off? You walk away with nothing. In fact, you don’t walk away at all.”
The threat carries some weight, though the bad guys try not to show it. Brody still sees a flicker of doubt in the first one’s eyes. At least, he hopes he does. He’s not usually one for blind hope, but shit, what else has he got right now?
“The meet is already arranged,” the guy says, as if he’s trying to make that sound like an irrefutable truth.
Deran makes a face diffidently. “You think that you don’t need my total ongoing compliance in order to pull this thing off? Because you do, asshole. I can tell you, you need me to be on board with this deal until me and all my friends here are out of view. Until then, everyone can die, man. Everyone can die.”
This makes the bad guy flinch a little.
It makes Brody come close to shitting himself.
Everyone is pretty inclusive. He’s not, like, super keen on having that include him. At all.
Deran, however, seems pleased by this. He spares a glance at Adrian, who seems to be drifting back off into unconsciousness again. He casts a steely gaze back up at the bad guys and closes in on his terms. “I’ll negotiate a extra thousand in the final deal. Just so you know that I’m not being unreasonable about this.”
There’s a hedging, and Brody wonders if these dudes might cut their losses altogether and end this shit now. Fortunately, the guy narrows his eyes and spares a glance at his partner.
The second guy grunts. “How do we know you’re not going to screw us?”
Deran’s smile is colder than Brody’s ever seen it. “You know what I have to lose here,” he says, and next to Brody, Adrian seems to shudder in his fitful sleep. Deran purses his lips. “You’ll get what I say, you can count on that.”
That’s a promise.
That’s a threat.
That’s Brody knowing that things can always, always get worse.
-o-
For the time being, at least, things didn’t get worse. Things didn’t get better, either. Things just sort went on in the same crappy fashion that they had been all day. He’d like to think that the whole having a gun shoved in his face -- twice over now -- would be the low point, but Brody’s not quite that stupid.
He’s still pretty stupid, though.
So when the larger bad guy -- the one who seems most indifferent to their fate -- shows his gun and shrugs, Brody does exactly what he’s told and gets up, barely mindful of the fact that Adrian slumps to the side without Brody next to him.
Mitch, on the other hand, is still Mitch. He’s still acting like this isn’t a terrible situation and that it’s not completely out of their hands. From his spot on the ground, Mitch doesn’t move. Instead, he asks, “Where are we going?”
The dude looks quite bored with the question. So bored that he doesn’t want to expend the effort to roll his eyes. That’s how bored he is with kidnapping and murder and shit like that. “No need to panic,” he says dismissively. “Just going to the back for now.”
Brody’s perfectly ready to accept that because, well, the guy has a gun and that’s a compelling case, but Mitch, bastard that he is, doesn’t move. “Why now? Why just us?”
This time, the guy does roll his eyes. “It’s not to kill you,” he says, reading the implications clearly. He shrugs, as if he sees no purpose in lying to them. Brody doesn’t know if this bald honesty bodes in their favor or means that they’re still probably going to end up dead. “It’s never a good idea to keep this many hostages together. We need the other two for navigation and making contact. You two are just going to get in the way if we’re not careful, and I am without a doubt careful.”
Brody, for some reason, finds this equally hilarious and terrifying. Like, Brody works hard to be careful, he does, because he knows he’s an idiot with self destructive tendencies and that he’s got a history of making the worst possible choices basically always. That means that in order to function as a reasonably normal person and maintain healthy relationships and a paying job, he’s got to be careful. He can’t drink too much. He can’t let himself go around swearing, even a little, because there are kids, like, everywhere on the beach. He can’t let himself sleep late, stay up late, and he has to set an alarm on his phone to remember to feed Mitch’s fish. This only works because he makes sure he charges his phone every night because he has to be careful, or the whole damn thing is going to implode and Brody’s going to go off and get himself killed or, worse, fired.
So yeah, Brody gets it, being careful. That’s sort of why he didn’t want to help the crazy dude kidnapping him this morning. Because careful! Being not careful can get him shot and that’s a sucky way to pass a day and it doesn’t seem right that being careful and doing his job really just don’t always mix and that’s just the way it works for him, okay?
Apparently, for this guy, it’s kind of the same. Being careful, when you’re a lifeguard, means being really reckless sometimes. This is the same way with criminals who have to create stupid and stressful situations or they’re really not doing their job. That’s the hilarious part because it’s really, like, ironic. Is the guy being careful? Is he making sure that his gun is loaded? Is he checking to see that the thing is cocked or whatever it is you have to do to a gun to make it fire or not fire or whatever? Careful means that Brody probably won’t get killed unnecessarily.
There’s the terrifying part, though. Careful also means that if this dude wants him to die, he’s probably going to die. Careful is thorough and Brody’s always been a loose end that no one’s been willing to tie off. Usually, they just cut him loose. Brody’s not entirely sure how this metaphor applies now, but he’s pretty sure it doesn’t matter because this guy is too careful for Brody to worry about how it ends up.
All Brody can do is follow directions.
And hope like hell Mitch is careful for once in his damn life.
“There are better ways to be careful,” Mitch says.
The guy sighs, a belabored sound. He flashes the gun, poking it at Brody tiredly. “I’m sure,” he says. “Why don’t you figure them out or I’m just going to shoot your lifeguard buddy here, right here and right now.”
Adrian, on the floor still has his eyes closed, but he whimpers. Deran shrugs like it’s none of his business. Brody wants to hurl some more.
“Okay, okay,” Mitch relents, getting to his feet with his bound hands like he’s doing this dude a favor. “Just wanted to be sure you’ve thought through your options.”
“More than you’ll know,” the guy says, poking Brody again until they start marching forward, Mitch leading the way to the back room.
Brody does his best not to flinch when the gun pokes him again and Mitch opens the door. They cross inside and Brody can only be grateful that Mitch hasn’t said what he knows he’s thinking.
I doubt that, asshole.
Mitch is right, no doubt. He’s thinking this all through, all the angles, all the outcomes, all the scenarios -- all of it. He’s thinking about escape plans, attack plans, survival plans. He’s thinking about how far they are from shore and what their odds are if they swim. He’s thinking about how to overpower to armed men. He’s thinking about how to send a signal secretly. He’s thinking about distractions and the force of numbers and all of it.
That’s what’s going to save them, Brody knows.
Or, possibly, what’s going to get them killed.
Time will tell on this one.
The door closes behind them and Brody is shoved roughly to the ground next to Mitch.
Time is really going to tell.
-o-
The boat is moving, and Brody’s really not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. This is a nice boat, but it’s still a boat, and sometimes he can still hear Deran’s voice making cold commentary while the bad guy with a gun chuckles. He seems to be enjoying this, bad guy number one.
Bad guy number two, not so much. Standing at the door, he looks more bored than anything else. When he catches Brody watching him, he makes an exasperated noise. “It won’t be long, but it’ll be long enough,” he says, and he’s holding the gun but not aiming it. “But it’s going to feel like a whole damn lifetime if you’re going to look at me like that.”
Brody blinks, taken aback. He’s not sure what he looks like. Possibly scared and terrified and ready to shit himself, but you know. Whatever.
From next to Brody, Mitch is posturing. Like, actually posturing with his hands tied and everything. “Well, you are holding us hostage,” he says. “Not sure what we’re supposed to do with that.”
The guy sighs, making a large gesture with his free hand. “I don’t give a shit,” he says. “If it were up to me, you’d both be fish bait by now, but we’ve all got things to do to make a payday.”
He says this in a way that is very relatable.
It’s just that he’s talking about murdering them.
So that’s, like, the opposite of relatable.
“I have no idea how this is going down, okay?” the guy says. “But you may as well sit back and relax. I have no intention of killing you for the time being. I mean, if I’m not getting paid for this shit, I ain’t giving it away. You know?”
That’s a horrible analogy. Brody’s not about to say that to the guy, though.
Mitch is. “The problem is with your line of work,” he advises. “You have to love what you do. As lifeguards, we’d save people whether or not we got paid.”
Brody turns to look at Mitch, incredulous.
Mitch doesn’t look back.
“Noble,” the guy says, sounding more bored than before. “I’m just saying, we’ve got a bit of a ride ahead of us. Feel free to make yourselves comfortable.”
Now Brody turns his incredulous gaze back to the bad guy, who is completely serious.
Mitch glares.
The dude shrugs.
Shit, Brody’s surrounded by idiots today.
-o-
For the sheer indignity of the idiocy around him, Brody intends to be quiet. The bad guy seems to have no issue with being silent, and Mitch has this silent, stony stare like he can guilt this dude into being an actual human being. Brody is so frustrated with both of them that he thinks being quiet will be an apt protest, as if not to give them the satisfaction of being the only weak and needy one among them.
But yeah, that doesn’t last. Seeing as Brody is the weak and needy one among them.
And, like, it’s really boring.
Looking at Mitch, Brody finally remembers one critical fact: he doesn’t have any pride left where Mitch is concerned. Not really, anyway. Sure, Brody likes to pretend, but it’s total shit and everyone knows it. Mitch has him bested in every possible way, and Brody still lives in his house. Brody’s got nothing to lose where Mitch is concerned. He’s pretty sure that Mitch’s opinion of him can’t get any lower. He knows all of Brody’s many, many faults.
And for some reason, he still seems to like Brody.
That’s comforting.
A little.
Brody finally clears his throat in desperation.
Mitch looks at him, eyebrows raised. The bad guy glances for one, bored second and looks back at his gun almost forlornly.
Mitch silently shrugs as if to say what the hell, man?
The whole thing seems to imply that they’ve got some master plan going on and who knows, maybe Mitch does. Brody just doesn’t have any idea what it is because they’re sitting there, not talking, which seems especially stupid the more Brody thinks about it if they only have a few hours left to live.
But then, what’s Brody supposed to say.
He cocks his head, imploringly.
Mitch glares at him, giving his head a small shake.
Shit, Brody can’t think of anything to say. He’s always been shitty at small talk, and small talk when you’re being held hostage is kind of hard.
Finally, he says, “Do you think this counts as a vacation day?”
It’s Mitch’s turn to blink. He is, momentarily, dumbfounded.
Then, the resignation sets in. “Seriously?”
Brody shrugs. “I was saving mine up,” he says with a small shrug. It’s a gesture that’s harder to do with your hands bound, as it turns out.
“For what?” Mitch demands, as if this is an affront to everything good in the world.
“I don’t know,” Brody says. “Vacation. Maybe with Summer.”
Mitch shakes his head as if he simply cannot believe that they’re talking about this. “Shit.”
Brody shrugs again.
The guy with the gun gives them a quizzical look. “If you’re talking to talk in code, don’t bother,” he says. “You two don’t have any secrets worth keeping.”
“What if we’re trying to plot to get away from you?” Mitch says.
Of course Mitch says it.
“Um, no,” Brody interjects because he generally does not want to aggravate the guy with the gun on principle alone. “I’m just sincerely curious about vacation time.”
It’s valid, really. Because if Brody thinks about how this day is classified, then he can think about the fact that someone is missing them by now. He can think about Summer, calling his phone. He can think about CJ checking Mitch’s house. He can think about Stephanie organizing a rescue party. He can think about hope.
Mitch sighs, and he watches Brody for a moment, like he’s trying to see the things that Brody isn’t saying. Maybe it’s not an important secret, but it’s still a secret. They’re secret, that Brody’s scared shitless.
And that Mitch understands. “We’ll figure it out,” he promises, a little quieter than before. He doesn’t look at the bad guy. This time, Brody doesn’t either. “We always do.”
There it is, Brody thinks as he swallows back another question, another tremor, another fear. There’s hope.
The kind that only Mitch Buchannon can give.
The only kind that’s proven to be worth anything at all.
-o-
The next person who speaks is, explicably, Mitch.
Brody’s run out of things to say, and Mitch’s promise -- unspoken and spoken -- is enough to calm him down while the boat continues on in its trajectory. So, nothing’s okay, but maybe Brody’s okay for now because, at this point, there’s nothing else for him to be.
Except maybe dead.
And that’s even worse.
So he’s surprised, then, when Mitch starts talking.
“I bet we can count this as a work day,” is what he says.
Like, out of nowhere, totally normal conversational voice.
Brody looks at him, shocked now. The bad guy raises his eyebrows momentarily before lapsing back into indifference.
“I mean, this is work,” Mitch says. He nods to Brody. “You’re even in uniform and everything.”
This is true, technically. But Brody frowns, wondering if he should lower his voice. “But, um,” he says. “I’m totally missing my shift.”
Mitch shrugs. “Being in the tower is not the only way to be on duty,” he reasons. “Some calls just go longer than others.”
The logic is there, and Brody doesn’t know what to say. Because what do you say to that? What could he possibly say? “Oh,” is what he comes up with. “So I guess my vacation time is safe, then.”
It’s a stupid thing to say, but it’s also a kind thing to say. It’s a way to end this conversation, awkward and stilted as it is. Because Mitch, he doesn’t give a shit about work days. But maybe in the silence, he’s been thinking, too. Maybe, he’s been feeling.
Maybe counting this as a work day is a way to apologize.
Maybe.
Brody sighs because this is stupid. If they’re going to die, they’re going to die, and this is stupid. He shakes his head. “This wasn’t a call, man,” he says. “We were kidnapped.”
“I could have gotten us out of it,” Mitch says. He sighs, too. They’re weary, the two of them. “But I thought that helping was the right thing to do.”
Because it is, most of the time. Because that’s the impulse. That’s the lead they’re both destined to followed. Brody can bitch and moan, but there’s no point. “I know. I mean, I did take the last call with these guys.”
Mitch nods, looking even more apologetic. “That’s why it needs to be said now,” he says. “I was pissed as hell at you for scaring me like that.”
“It was the job,” Brody says. He makes a vague nod to the shitfest around them. “I mean, I guess this is the job, too.”
“Not even the job, man,” Mitch admits. “Just. The right thing to do. People, they deserve second chances.”
Brody’s lips twist up in a rueful smile. “This is a little more than a second chance.”
Mitch doesn’t argue that point. Instead, he just keeps his gaze steady. “I tried to count how many chances I gave you, and I lost count.”
Brody can’t help it; he blushes. Glancing at the bad guy, he feels somewhat relieved that the dude still doesn’t give a shit about what they’re saying. “Yeah,” he says, trying to sound diffident. He fails. “So?”
“So, the point is, you got it,” Mitch says. “You made the right choice. And you kept making the right choices. And now, here you are. A year later, you’re a good person, Brody. One of the best I know. A year in, and I’m not giving you second chances anymore. I’m following your lead as often as you follow mine.”
Brody is still blushing, but it’s not embarrassment this time. Or, you know, not humiliation. It’s, what? Pride? Brody doesn’t know what the hell to do with pride. Not around Mitch. “I know, I get it, I do,” he says, and he lowers his voice because this isn’t a secret that matters much to the dude with the gun, but it’s kind of one that matters to him. He keeps his eyes on Mitch, though, because that matters. Shit, this matters. “Coming here was the right thing to do, even if it is probably going to go completely wrong. It’s just that I really hate the idea of dying.”
Mitch snorts, and it’s his turn to be incredulous. “Is that why the last time we gave these guys a chance, you jumped in front of a bullet?”
Brody is still flushing red, deeper than before. “I never said I was consistent.”
“No,” Mitch agrees, lips turning up in a small smile. “Except I think maybe you are.”
He means that in a good way. The best way.
“Besides,” Mitch says. “I don’t want to die, either. And I have no intention of letting you die this time any more than before.”
There’s a resolution in his voice that makes Brody sit up a little straighter. Their kidnapper looks at them a little more intently, too. Feeling himself start to tremble, Brody tries to laugh. “I think we’re a little out of our depth,” he says, diffusing the building tension.
Mitch response is without hesitation. “We’re lifeguards,” he says. “Nothing is out of our depth.”
“Yeah, um,” Brody says and he glances at the guy with a gun, smiling a flat smile. “Pretty sure a flotation device isn’t going to cut it this time around.”
That’s funny, and it’s not. Mitch smiles in a way that makes him look older than ever before. “Flotations devices don’t save people.”
Brody nods along. “Lifeguards do.”
It’s the answer they both know to the question they’re both asking.
“I thought last time that it would get easier, you know,” he says. “That I would want to be such a dick in the face of danger. I mean, you’ve been doing this for years without flinching. How?”
Mitch lets out a long breath, and he shakes his head. “I thought I had it figured out,” he says. “Until you joined the team.”
He closes his eyes, tipping his head back against the wall behind them. “Damn it, Brody,” he mutters. “Why do you have to be the exception to every rule?”
It’s so tired, so weary, so true. Brody almost feels sorry for Mitch. “It’s a talent, I think,” he says. “Probably one of my only ones.”
Mitch laughs at that, opening his eyes to look at Brody again.
Brody feels his shoulders sink. He looks at the bad guy, the gun, the vast ocean outside. “What the hell are we going to do, Mitch? We’re not saving anyone this time. Not even ourselves.”
Mitch looks around, eyes skimming over the bad guy. “Well, that’s what second chances are for, then,” he says. “And let’s hope that everyone here has one more chance left.”
Mitch closes his mouth, and Brody hears what Mitch isn’t saying.
Especially us.
Brody swallows hard, and tries not to think about it. About how someday, a second chance is a last chance.
How today might finally, irrevocably be that day.
-o-
Funny, Brody’s been bored while in the back, but when the boat comes to a stopped and he’s pulled to his feet again, it doesn’t seem like nearly long enough. No one asks his opinion on this, though. This is not a surprise. Few people want Brody’s opinion. Even though sometimes it’s not all bad.
Like his opinion that he doesn’t want to die.
That’s a pretty good opinion, honestly.
And no one gives a shit.
The bad guy prods him in front of Mitch, and they’re unceremoniously herded back into the main cabin. Deran is being shoved back to the ground where Adrian is still slumped against the wall. He doesn’t look any happier than Brody feels, but he expresses that through rage and anger.
“I’m doing what you want, asshole, so ease up,” Deran fumes, suggesting clearly how well things have been going out here.
The bad guy at the control smirks but doesn’t spare a glance at him. Instead, he nods to the second bad guy, who is in the process of directing Brody and Mitch to the floor next to Adrian. “We’re just about there,” the first one says. “Coordinates are a match.”
The second one keeps his gun in Mitch’s general direction, but he ducks his head for a better look outside. “No sign of anyone?”
“Eh, it’s still a little early,” the first replies.
“It’s not professional to wait,” the second mutters.
This talk of professionalism is ironic. Just, you know, given the profession. Brody’s pretty sure that no one is upset when a hitman is late.
“Assholes,” Deran seethes again because yes, someone can be more agitating than Mitch. “My family isn’t going to work on your schedule. You may think you’re in control of this shit fest, but it’s their show.”
The first one turns at this, looking wryly at Deran. “Really, you shouldn’t tell me that since you want to live.”
“Shoot me, then,” Deran spits. He’s still squirming in his bonds as if he thinks, after all this time, he’s actually going to get out. “Just shoot me if you’ve got the balls.”
Leaving the controls, the first one steps closer as if considering it. He produces his gun, cocking his head as he levels it experimentally in Deran’s direction. Brody flinches on all of their behalfs. Because that’s what you do when people start pointing guns at people. Adrian’s still mostly out of it, so his indifference is to be expected, and Mitch is an idiot but what the hell is Deran’s problem?
“Shooting you is counterproductive,” the guy says, letting the enunciated words fall of his tongue with meaning. He moves the gun, swinging it to Adrian. “But if you want me to fire the gun, there are other targets.”
Yeah, that threat goes about as well as can be expected. Deran is flying to his feet in an instant, charging at the bad guy with a ferocity that is sudden, violent and somehow totally expected. Brody curses, and Mitch somehow ducks in front of him before the violent scuffle comes to a head.
Brody waits for the gunshot, eyes closed, breath baited.
There’s a grunt and the sound of flesh on flesh.
Someone hits the floor hard, and Brody opens his eyes to see the first bad guy laughing while the other kicks Deran back into his spot next to Adrian. “Shit,” the second says. “We should have just knocked them all out and spared ourselves the trouble! The first guy was easy!”
“The first guy was bait,” the first says, and he appears exasperated as the second pushes Deran with his foot back into a semi-upright position. Brody can see that he’s got a gash on his forehead where he’s been hit with the gun. That could be worse, all things considered.
But this whole thing could be better, that’s for sure.
Deran is dazed, but he’s still pissed. “You should have just killed me,” he growls.
“And I told you, if anyone is going to die, it’s your boyfriend, okay?” the first says. “So if you’re still interested in saving his life, just do what you’re told. This is almost over, right?”
Mitch is still pressed closed to Brody, close enough that Brody can feel his heart pounding. That’s reassuring somehow. That Brody’s not the only one on edge here. That they’re both still alive. For now.
Deran is clearly ready to protest.
Mitch intervenes. “We’re good,” he says, letting the weight of his voice carry over the tension. The bad guys look at him; Deran all but glares at him. “It’s just been a long day for all of us.”
He tips his head toward Adrian while he holds Deran’s gaze.
“Right?” he asks purposefully.
Deran presses his lips closed, a tight, white line. He’s still fuming, but he nods.
The first guy snorts and goes back to the controls. The second gives a long suffering sigh.
“We just have to stay calm,” Mitch advises, keeping his voice low. He glances at Brody, who nods in ready agreement. He’s good with calm. Calm is good. Calm is not shooting guns. Calm is not dying. Brody can do calm. Mitch looks at Deran. “That’s all.”
Deran inhales sharply through his nose. “These guys are--”
“Not what matters,” Mitch finished for him. He bobs his head toward Adrian again. “Right?”
Deran looks at Adrian, and the tension in his body breaks. The tautness in his shoulder dissipates, and he slumps back against the wall as if the sight of Adrian’s broken body breaks his own spirit.
Sitting back now, Deran has leaned in close to Adrian. At the touch of their shoulders, Adrian stirs slightly, murmuring quietly as he turns his head into Deran’s arm. Deran takes a breath, lets it out and nods. “Right,” he agrees. “I told you all I was going to take care of this, and I meant it. Things are going to be okay.”
It’s supposed to be reassuring, and Brody really does want to be reassured. But this day’s been kind of long, and Brody may trust the over the top shit when Mitch says it (most of the time), but he’s having a hard time giving Deran the benefit of the doubt all things being considered.
Still, Brody should shut up.
With the guys and the guns, he probably would.
But Deran’s an idiot who may be dangerous but no longer scares him. “No offense, man,” he says, because he totally is going to offend this dude right now because, well, he kidnapped Brody this morning and Brody can be a petty son of a bitch. “But that’s, like, the promise you made Adrian before this happened, right? After the last incident?”
The incident that got Adrian beaten and drowned.
And the incident when Brody had been shot.
In case anyone is wondering.
(No one is, the bastards.)
“Well, sure,” Deran says, like Brody’s point isn’t valid. “And it will be. It all will be. My family’s coming. This is going to be okay. I don’t lie to Adrian. Not to him.”
Deran is calmer in his resolve. He sounds confident, less homicidal.
There’s really no way to know if that’s a good thing or not.
It’s a little humorous that Brody things there’s still good things to be had in this situation. Blind hope -- that’s Mitch’s fault.
Next to him, though, Mitch seems to share his concerns for once. “Just make sure you’ve thought this all through,” he advises. “Because Adrian’s not okay now, not by a long shot.”
They all look at Adrian, listening for a moment to the wheezing sound of his breath. His condition seems to have gotten worse since Mitch and Brody were hauled to the back room, and he shows no inkling of consciousness anymore.
It’s a sight that reminds Brody how precarious this whole mess is.
It only serves to harden Deran’s resolve. “He will be,” he says. “I swear it.”
“I know you mean it,” Mitch says. “And maybe this time, you’re right. But you have to remember, he’ll follow you anywhere. We all know that now, and it’s nothing to me, not really. But you’ve got to look at those implications and understand what they mean.”
Brody’s not sure that it’s actually nothing to them, but getting between Deran and Mitch increasingly seems like a futile and frustrating thing. Two hard headed idiots who always think they’re right. At least Brody has the benefit of Mitch not being a criminal. That’s an advantage that Adrian seems to be lacking these days.
Deran, while he’s got no room to argue, isn’t the type to back down. He nods his head, looking down his nose coolly at Mitch. “Yeah, I got it,” he says. “Do you?”
This time, they both look at Brody.
Brody looks back, dumbfounded.
Then, he realizes.
Adrian followed Deran into this mess.
And Brody has followed Mitch.
The reasons are a little different, the contexts are super different, but really the outcome is the same. When someone trusts you like that, it’s a hell of a thing. It’s something you have to think about because most people will let their common sense stop them from walking into a disaster. When you’re following someone like Mitch or Deran, common sense kind of has to go by the wayside. The reasons can be good, the reasons can be bad, but relationship is the thing that overpowers all of that.
That’s how you end up shot and beat up and kidnapped and all that shit.
That’s how.
Mitch doesn’t flinch, but Brody can see the flicker of guilt in his eye. Mitch is confident and self assured, but he’s not above making mistakes. And he’s a guy who owns his own shit; he doesn’t shy away from it.
In short, he’s not wrong often, but when he is, he’s not afraid to admit it.
That’s all well and good.
Just.
Well.
Brody’s pissed and he’s angry but it’s likely that Mitch isn’t wrong now.
Because following Mitch?
Is the best thing Brody’s ever done.
And even if this year ends today, violently and painfully, it’s still the best year of Brody’s life.
Finally, Brody finds his voice again. “He understands,” he says, nodding at Mitch with his own resolve. He looks back at Adrian, back at Deran. “We all do now.”
It’s not clear if that will make a difference in the outcome.
Or if their fates will be the same.
-o-
Either way, it’s time to find out.
Brody’s not the last to realize the boat’s coming, but that’s really only because Adrian’s unconscious. But whatever.
Mitch hears it first, probably because he’s got superpowered hearing or because the waves talk to him. The bad guys perk up second, and Deran’s back to trying to squirm out of his ropes for the millionth time. Brody has to crane his neck to get a look out at the water, but he can hear the engine before he sees the boat approaching, fast and smooth off the port side.
The bad guys go to the window, muttering between each other for a moment.
“It’s time, morons,” Deran says derisively. “That’s the rescue party.”
“That’s the payday,” the first guy says, and he nudges the second who turns his gun back on them with renewed purpose. “So everyone play nice and we’ll get through this.”
With that, he heads out while the second creep maintains a position by the door, gun facing them. Deran is still struggling, somehow both smug and desperate at the same time. Adrian shifts, blinking hazily a few times as if he also feels the weight of the ensuing confrontation bearing down on them.
Brody’s adrenaline starts to surge again, which is impressive since that’s what it’s been doing most of the day. Still, as he works not to hyperventilate, Mitch ducks his head close to him, and this time, when he speaks, he’s whispering. “Stay down, keep low,” he says, low enough for only Brody to hear him. “Whatever happens, you stay out of it. If we need to, we look for cover.”
This advice sounds remarkably rational. It’s sane. Common sense.
Which is precisely why Brody has to object to it.
Mitch and Brody have to balance each other out.
That’s the way it is.
So if Mitch isn’t going to be the idiot, then Brody will be. He shakes his head. “But we came here to save lives,” he reminds Mitch, his voice couched in a low hiss. The boat outside has pulled up next to them, but the engine is still idly. Brody wets his lips, forcing himself to swallow. “We’re lifeguards.”
“Right now we’re not,” Mitch tells him, as serious as he’s ever been.
“But you said this was a work day,” Brody says.
Mitch looks at him.
Brody looks back.
There’s something there.
No, everything’s there.
Because sure, this is a work day, and if they can save Adrian, if they can save Deran, if they can save any of these other idiots in this mess, then sure, they’ll do that. But even lifeguards have priorities from time to time.
It’s not a bad thing to know what yours are.
“Still,” Mitch says, because that’s a whole lot more concise than all the rest.
Brody’s down with that; he is. Except.
“Is that what you’re going to do?” he asks. “Are you going to sit back, hang low?”
He asks the question like he doesn’t know the answer.
But the second he asks the question, they both know that the answer has to change.
There’s only one way for Mitch to keep Brody safe, after all.
And that way is to keep himself safe first.
Brody follows him, after all. In everything.
“Yeah,” Mitch says, and he’s not lying because Mitch doesn’t do lying. He doesn’t. “I want us to get out of here and back to the beach. I need us to get out of here. You and me.”
It’s a choice they’ll make because everyone makes a choice. It’s a choice they make because they understand the consequences.
It’s a choice they’ll make.
And there’s no turning back now.
“Okay,” Brody says as voices sound from outside. Brody catches sight of men with guns, a woman with blonde hair and a dark smile. “Okay.”
If it’s good enough for Mitch, then it’s good enough for Brody.
Brody’s made a life by that.
Maybe he’ll make a death by it, too.
-o-
So it’s possible, just somewhat possible, that Mitch has misjudged this situation pretty badly today.
Now, to be fair, he’d walked in on Brody being held at gunpoint. No matter how the story goes from there, things are probably not going to be good. But Mitch can’t lie; he had options. He’s had more than one gun held on him and he’s never cowed to commands. That’s not his style. So the fact that he agreed to a kidnapping so readily is on him.
The thing is, he’d wanted to help.
Seeing Deran again had seemed like unfinished business. A save only half done. Mitch hates loose ends, so it’s natural and normal to want to tie this one off once and for all.
He just hadn’t intended to be tied up with it.
Much less, Brody.
Because now, here they are. A hostage situation turned into a hostage situation with a ransom demand that may or may not include their safety. Being in a hostage situation is dire when you’re the mark. But when you’re not? When you’re well and truly expendable?
Well, that’s the part that Mitch has overlooked.
Basically, completely.
In his quest to make a save, he’d put more people in danger. Himself, that’s no big deal. But Brody?
That one matters to him. A little.
A lot.
Because Brody is the biggest loose end in Mitch’s life, and he’s pretty sure that’s going to take years to tie off. Probably a lifetime.
And lifetime doesn’t mean one that ends today, thank you very much.
Mitch is resolved in this.
Unfortunately, this is a situation where no one seems remotely swayed by Mitch’s resolve. Turns out, they’re a long way from the beach today.
Too long.
So Mitch hunkers down, pulls himself in front Brody as best he can, and watches as shit gets real.
The bad guy outside, the one clearly in charge of negotiations, has a wide stance and he’s speaking louder than normal. He’s projecting calm and confident, trying to dominate the conversation by the force of his will. It’s not a bad effort, all things considered.
Mitch watches the reaction from the other boat and knows immediately that this guy isn’t as effective as he wants to be. The armed men on the other boat are a compelling counterargument to anything the guy says, but that’s not why he’s outmatched.
No, he’s got nothing compared to the woman in charge.
From inside, bound and at gunpoint, it’s probably hard to be definitive about all the details of what’s happening in the exchange. But Mitch knows a leader when he sees one. He knows someone who gets shit done.
And this lady, neat blonde hair, prim business suit, cold deadly stare, gets shit done.
Probably bad shit, too.
The look in her face is more deadly than the one in Leeds’ last year. Her smile is enough to make Mitch wish again he’d thought twice before dragging Brody along on another second chance for Adrian and Deran.
“Who is that?” Mitch whispers to Deran.
Deran, pulled tight against Adrian, looks grim. “That,” he says. “Is my mother.”
Brody gapes next to him, and Mitch can’t blame him. Outside, Deran’s mouth laughs, and the sound is like ice.
“I told you,” Deran says gravely as the guy outside nods to the one in the doorway. “Second chances are hard to come by in my family.”
The guy comes close to them, kicking Brody before reaching down and dragging Adrian to his feet. “Come on,” he growls. “Let’s get this over with.”
Deran is on his feet, struggling to support Adrian as they stumble to the door together. Brody trips along behind them, glancing back at Mitch imploringly.
Mitch nods, silently willing Brody to keep to the plan.
He follows behind, the gun at his back.
Shit.
He blinks in the sunlight, inhaling the familiar smell of the ocean as he tries to orient himself for what comes next.
Now if only he had a plan.
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
-o-
The fact that this whole thing might get Adrian and Deran both killed is really tragic. It’s the stuff of great romances, star crossed lovers and shit like that.
The fact that Brody and Mitch might get killed…
Well, that seems increasingly like a foregone conclusion.
And, really, it doesn’t add anything to the story. It’s collateral damage. A footnote. It’s just shitty, and nothing Brody can think about seems to make that any better.
After tending to Adrian’s injuries, they lapse into silence. This isn’t the kind of place where you make small talk; even Mitch seems willing to concede that point. Besides, the idea of tending Adrian’s injuries is a bit of an overstatement. They may assess Adrian, but there’s nothing they can do for him except try to make him comfortable. Eventually, Adrian drifts back to sleep, slipping in and out of awareness every so often.
Mitch and Brody exchange tense looks, but neither of them dare say anything. While Brody is concerned with not getting killed, like, you know, a normal person, he suspects that Mitch is framing this silence as a strategy, like they don’t want to tip their hand.
Brody doesn’t have the heart to tell him that they don’t have a hand. They have ropes on their wrists and a dude with a gun who probably will kill them before this is over. That’s, like, the worst hand ever.
Of course, about the time Brody comes to that auspicious conclusion, it all gets worse.
Because of course it does.
Brody’s life is an exercise in things going from bad to worse to are you kidding me. He might have thought that heaving in the pool at the Olympics during a race would have been rock bottom.
When the bad guy brings Deran back out at gunpoint, however, Brody finds out otherwise.
“That wasn’t so hard,” the bad guy is saying, like he’s been trying to convince Deran of this for awhile. They’ve been back there maybe 20 minutes, so it’s clearly been a hard sell if the vehement look of abject disdain on Deran’s face is any indication. The bad guy seems to like that fact and he smirks as hs prods Deran with a gun until he sits down next to Brody. “All you had to do was make one little phone call.”
For Mitch and Brody, Adrian has managed to be semiconscious on and off.
For Deran, the dude is at total full alert.
Brody resents that a little bit, even though he knows he shouldn’t.
Not that anyone cares to notice, however.
“Deran,” Adrian says -- croaks, really. He sounds so bad that Brody feels a little guilty for his resentment a second before. “You didn’t…”
Deran huffs and his jaw tightens. “I had to.”
“It was just a family phone call, that’s all,” the bad guy says. He smiles, but he’s still holding the gun, like, super casually. Clearly, he does this a lot too often. “A little boy calling his mommy for help.”
Adrian looks like he’s about to cry now, and Brody manages to feel like even more of an asshole. “You can’t.”
Deran snorts, glaring up at the bad guy. “Not much choice,” he says. “It’s the only way to save your life. And to save you, I’d do anything.”
That’s the thing that counts, that’s the core of this. That’s why Adrian didn’t want Deran to come and that’s why Deran had to come, even if it meat abducting two innocent people in the process. These two idiots loved each other. Like, really loved each other. Brody tries to imagine what he’d do if someone captured Summer, but it’s hard to imagine. If only because there’s no way to blackmail Brody. Who’s he going to call for help? Mitch.
That might work actually.
As Brody contemplates this, the conversation goes on around him.
“Told you it would work,” the bad guy herding Deran says to the other guy. “Not a single hitch in this whole thing.”
“We’ve got two extra people here,” the guy says, bobbing his head toward the hostages. It takes Brody a moment to realize that the two extra people he’s referring to are himself and Mitch. “That’s a little bit of a hitch.”
“Eh,” the guy says. “Dead weight. We can cut them loose.”
Brody blinks, not sure what that means.
Across, on Adrian’s other side, Mitch sits up a lot straighter. He apparently gets the gist immediately. “Wait, what?”
The first guy shrugs. “I mean, it’s nothing personal,” he says, looking back at them again. “But you weren’t part of the package. Nobody’s coming to pay your ransom.”
Ransom. Dead weight.
Brody blinks a few more times, and his stomach churns like he’s going to hurl.
Oh shit.
“Whoa,” Brody says. “You’re going to kill us?”
The first dude rolls his eyes. “So dramatic,” he says. “It’s just good business.”
“Well, we should do it, then,” the second adds in, like he hasn’t been all friendly with Mitch in the interim. Shit, these guys are bastards. Like, real bastards. He gets to his feet and takes out his own gun and nods toward the side of the boat. “Unload them here before the meet.”
“I think that’s a mistake,” Mitch says.
Brody is gaping because it’s not a mistake. These dudes, they really do want to kill them. The mistake is that they’re here at all and there’s nothing Brody can do about any of this.
Mitch looks over at Deran, eyes hard. “Tell them it’s a mistake.”
Deran shrugs, and the dude doesn’t look all that sorry. Sure, he looks a little sorry, but not sorry enough for the fact that these two are talking about putting bullets in their heads and it’s all Deran’s fault. “My mom’s not the kind who does good deeds,” he says. “I had to convince her that Adrian was an investment.”
He shrugs again, like that’s that.
Brody looks at him incredulously. “You kidnapped us! That makes you responsible!”
“I was never going to kill you, though,” Deran says.
“I think if we all talk reasonably, we can figure this out,” Mitch says, cutting through the shit. He looks back at the men with guns who have drawn closer during the conversational melee. “I don’t think you know who I am. I’m a Baywatch lifeguard. I have connections--”
“Unless you have half a million, I don’t give a shit,” the first guy says.
The second cocks his gun.
Brody’s about to shit himself. Mitch is still trying to negotiate. Deran has looked away.
It’s Adrian who cuts through it all. “No, no way,” he says, and he’s not talking to the goons. He’s not talking to Mitch or Brody. He’s talking to Deran. “You’re better than this, Deran. You have to be better than this.”
Deran scoffs, but he looks up. His eyes are tormented and his face is rigid. “I’m not going to apologize for choosing you, okay? I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, but you’re why I’m here. I came here for you, and I will leave with you no matter what.”
“You already sold your soul to your mother for this,” Adrian says, and his breathing is more strained than ever. “I can’t even imagine how much you had to give her.”
Deran closes his mouth and refuses to acknowledge anything.
“So, what’s a little more? Deran, please,” he says, and beaten, bloodied and breathless, he makes a compelling case.
Across Brody, Deran hisses. “I came for you.”
“And you brought them,” Adrian says back. “We can’t keep running from the consequences, man. Being with you costs us both a lot, but it can’t cost this. We’ve made so many compromises already, but not this.”
Brody finds himself nodding along. Because Adrian’s right to talk about true love and compromise and whatever. Brody doesn’t give a shit as long as it means he’s not going to die today.
Everyone seems to be holding their breaths, and Deran breathes out heavily through his nose. Tearing his gaze from Adrian, he looks back up at the bad guys. “How much for the lifeguards?”
This causes the first guy to laugh as if this is possibly the funniest thing he’s heard all day. The other guy, the one who Brody thought kind of liked them, seems annoyed by the question and he rolls his eyes. “Seriously?” the first guy asks. “How much for the lifeguards?”
Deran looks less pleased than all of them combined. Tersely, he doesn’t look away. “They’re inconsequential to you. They’re not going to be a problem for you.”
“They’re witnesses,” the second growls at him.
The first nods. “That does make them infinitely more important to us. I’m not throwing in a freebie. Or two.”
“Well, how about this then?” Deran says with a defiant shrug. “You throw them in safe and sound, or I call the whole thing off? You walk away with nothing. In fact, you don’t walk away at all.”
The threat carries some weight, though the bad guys try not to show it. Brody still sees a flicker of doubt in the first one’s eyes. At least, he hopes he does. He’s not usually one for blind hope, but shit, what else has he got right now?
“The meet is already arranged,” the guy says, as if he’s trying to make that sound like an irrefutable truth.
Deran makes a face diffidently. “You think that you don’t need my total ongoing compliance in order to pull this thing off? Because you do, asshole. I can tell you, you need me to be on board with this deal until me and all my friends here are out of view. Until then, everyone can die, man. Everyone can die.”
This makes the bad guy flinch a little.
It makes Brody come close to shitting himself.
Everyone is pretty inclusive. He’s not, like, super keen on having that include him. At all.
Deran, however, seems pleased by this. He spares a glance at Adrian, who seems to be drifting back off into unconsciousness again. He casts a steely gaze back up at the bad guys and closes in on his terms. “I’ll negotiate a extra thousand in the final deal. Just so you know that I’m not being unreasonable about this.”
There’s a hedging, and Brody wonders if these dudes might cut their losses altogether and end this shit now. Fortunately, the guy narrows his eyes and spares a glance at his partner.
The second guy grunts. “How do we know you’re not going to screw us?”
Deran’s smile is colder than Brody’s ever seen it. “You know what I have to lose here,” he says, and next to Brody, Adrian seems to shudder in his fitful sleep. Deran purses his lips. “You’ll get what I say, you can count on that.”
That’s a promise.
That’s a threat.
That’s Brody knowing that things can always, always get worse.
-o-
For the time being, at least, things didn’t get worse. Things didn’t get better, either. Things just sort went on in the same crappy fashion that they had been all day. He’d like to think that the whole having a gun shoved in his face -- twice over now -- would be the low point, but Brody’s not quite that stupid.
He’s still pretty stupid, though.
So when the larger bad guy -- the one who seems most indifferent to their fate -- shows his gun and shrugs, Brody does exactly what he’s told and gets up, barely mindful of the fact that Adrian slumps to the side without Brody next to him.
Mitch, on the other hand, is still Mitch. He’s still acting like this isn’t a terrible situation and that it’s not completely out of their hands. From his spot on the ground, Mitch doesn’t move. Instead, he asks, “Where are we going?”
The dude looks quite bored with the question. So bored that he doesn’t want to expend the effort to roll his eyes. That’s how bored he is with kidnapping and murder and shit like that. “No need to panic,” he says dismissively. “Just going to the back for now.”
Brody’s perfectly ready to accept that because, well, the guy has a gun and that’s a compelling case, but Mitch, bastard that he is, doesn’t move. “Why now? Why just us?”
This time, the guy does roll his eyes. “It’s not to kill you,” he says, reading the implications clearly. He shrugs, as if he sees no purpose in lying to them. Brody doesn’t know if this bald honesty bodes in their favor or means that they’re still probably going to end up dead. “It’s never a good idea to keep this many hostages together. We need the other two for navigation and making contact. You two are just going to get in the way if we’re not careful, and I am without a doubt careful.”
Brody, for some reason, finds this equally hilarious and terrifying. Like, Brody works hard to be careful, he does, because he knows he’s an idiot with self destructive tendencies and that he’s got a history of making the worst possible choices basically always. That means that in order to function as a reasonably normal person and maintain healthy relationships and a paying job, he’s got to be careful. He can’t drink too much. He can’t let himself go around swearing, even a little, because there are kids, like, everywhere on the beach. He can’t let himself sleep late, stay up late, and he has to set an alarm on his phone to remember to feed Mitch’s fish. This only works because he makes sure he charges his phone every night because he has to be careful, or the whole damn thing is going to implode and Brody’s going to go off and get himself killed or, worse, fired.
So yeah, Brody gets it, being careful. That’s sort of why he didn’t want to help the crazy dude kidnapping him this morning. Because careful! Being not careful can get him shot and that’s a sucky way to pass a day and it doesn’t seem right that being careful and doing his job really just don’t always mix and that’s just the way it works for him, okay?
Apparently, for this guy, it’s kind of the same. Being careful, when you’re a lifeguard, means being really reckless sometimes. This is the same way with criminals who have to create stupid and stressful situations or they’re really not doing their job. That’s the hilarious part because it’s really, like, ironic. Is the guy being careful? Is he making sure that his gun is loaded? Is he checking to see that the thing is cocked or whatever it is you have to do to a gun to make it fire or not fire or whatever? Careful means that Brody probably won’t get killed unnecessarily.
There’s the terrifying part, though. Careful also means that if this dude wants him to die, he’s probably going to die. Careful is thorough and Brody’s always been a loose end that no one’s been willing to tie off. Usually, they just cut him loose. Brody’s not entirely sure how this metaphor applies now, but he’s pretty sure it doesn’t matter because this guy is too careful for Brody to worry about how it ends up.
All Brody can do is follow directions.
And hope like hell Mitch is careful for once in his damn life.
“There are better ways to be careful,” Mitch says.
The guy sighs, a belabored sound. He flashes the gun, poking it at Brody tiredly. “I’m sure,” he says. “Why don’t you figure them out or I’m just going to shoot your lifeguard buddy here, right here and right now.”
Adrian, on the floor still has his eyes closed, but he whimpers. Deran shrugs like it’s none of his business. Brody wants to hurl some more.
“Okay, okay,” Mitch relents, getting to his feet with his bound hands like he’s doing this dude a favor. “Just wanted to be sure you’ve thought through your options.”
“More than you’ll know,” the guy says, poking Brody again until they start marching forward, Mitch leading the way to the back room.
Brody does his best not to flinch when the gun pokes him again and Mitch opens the door. They cross inside and Brody can only be grateful that Mitch hasn’t said what he knows he’s thinking.
I doubt that, asshole.
Mitch is right, no doubt. He’s thinking this all through, all the angles, all the outcomes, all the scenarios -- all of it. He’s thinking about escape plans, attack plans, survival plans. He’s thinking about how far they are from shore and what their odds are if they swim. He’s thinking about how to overpower to armed men. He’s thinking about how to send a signal secretly. He’s thinking about distractions and the force of numbers and all of it.
That’s what’s going to save them, Brody knows.
Or, possibly, what’s going to get them killed.
Time will tell on this one.
The door closes behind them and Brody is shoved roughly to the ground next to Mitch.
Time is really going to tell.
-o-
The boat is moving, and Brody’s really not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. This is a nice boat, but it’s still a boat, and sometimes he can still hear Deran’s voice making cold commentary while the bad guy with a gun chuckles. He seems to be enjoying this, bad guy number one.
Bad guy number two, not so much. Standing at the door, he looks more bored than anything else. When he catches Brody watching him, he makes an exasperated noise. “It won’t be long, but it’ll be long enough,” he says, and he’s holding the gun but not aiming it. “But it’s going to feel like a whole damn lifetime if you’re going to look at me like that.”
Brody blinks, taken aback. He’s not sure what he looks like. Possibly scared and terrified and ready to shit himself, but you know. Whatever.
From next to Brody, Mitch is posturing. Like, actually posturing with his hands tied and everything. “Well, you are holding us hostage,” he says. “Not sure what we’re supposed to do with that.”
The guy sighs, making a large gesture with his free hand. “I don’t give a shit,” he says. “If it were up to me, you’d both be fish bait by now, but we’ve all got things to do to make a payday.”
He says this in a way that is very relatable.
It’s just that he’s talking about murdering them.
So that’s, like, the opposite of relatable.
“I have no idea how this is going down, okay?” the guy says. “But you may as well sit back and relax. I have no intention of killing you for the time being. I mean, if I’m not getting paid for this shit, I ain’t giving it away. You know?”
That’s a horrible analogy. Brody’s not about to say that to the guy, though.
Mitch is. “The problem is with your line of work,” he advises. “You have to love what you do. As lifeguards, we’d save people whether or not we got paid.”
Brody turns to look at Mitch, incredulous.
Mitch doesn’t look back.
“Noble,” the guy says, sounding more bored than before. “I’m just saying, we’ve got a bit of a ride ahead of us. Feel free to make yourselves comfortable.”
Now Brody turns his incredulous gaze back to the bad guy, who is completely serious.
Mitch glares.
The dude shrugs.
Shit, Brody’s surrounded by idiots today.
-o-
For the sheer indignity of the idiocy around him, Brody intends to be quiet. The bad guy seems to have no issue with being silent, and Mitch has this silent, stony stare like he can guilt this dude into being an actual human being. Brody is so frustrated with both of them that he thinks being quiet will be an apt protest, as if not to give them the satisfaction of being the only weak and needy one among them.
But yeah, that doesn’t last. Seeing as Brody is the weak and needy one among them.
And, like, it’s really boring.
Looking at Mitch, Brody finally remembers one critical fact: he doesn’t have any pride left where Mitch is concerned. Not really, anyway. Sure, Brody likes to pretend, but it’s total shit and everyone knows it. Mitch has him bested in every possible way, and Brody still lives in his house. Brody’s got nothing to lose where Mitch is concerned. He’s pretty sure that Mitch’s opinion of him can’t get any lower. He knows all of Brody’s many, many faults.
And for some reason, he still seems to like Brody.
That’s comforting.
A little.
Brody finally clears his throat in desperation.
Mitch looks at him, eyebrows raised. The bad guy glances for one, bored second and looks back at his gun almost forlornly.
Mitch silently shrugs as if to say what the hell, man?
The whole thing seems to imply that they’ve got some master plan going on and who knows, maybe Mitch does. Brody just doesn’t have any idea what it is because they’re sitting there, not talking, which seems especially stupid the more Brody thinks about it if they only have a few hours left to live.
But then, what’s Brody supposed to say.
He cocks his head, imploringly.
Mitch glares at him, giving his head a small shake.
Shit, Brody can’t think of anything to say. He’s always been shitty at small talk, and small talk when you’re being held hostage is kind of hard.
Finally, he says, “Do you think this counts as a vacation day?”
It’s Mitch’s turn to blink. He is, momentarily, dumbfounded.
Then, the resignation sets in. “Seriously?”
Brody shrugs. “I was saving mine up,” he says with a small shrug. It’s a gesture that’s harder to do with your hands bound, as it turns out.
“For what?” Mitch demands, as if this is an affront to everything good in the world.
“I don’t know,” Brody says. “Vacation. Maybe with Summer.”
Mitch shakes his head as if he simply cannot believe that they’re talking about this. “Shit.”
Brody shrugs again.
The guy with the gun gives them a quizzical look. “If you’re talking to talk in code, don’t bother,” he says. “You two don’t have any secrets worth keeping.”
“What if we’re trying to plot to get away from you?” Mitch says.
Of course Mitch says it.
“Um, no,” Brody interjects because he generally does not want to aggravate the guy with the gun on principle alone. “I’m just sincerely curious about vacation time.”
It’s valid, really. Because if Brody thinks about how this day is classified, then he can think about the fact that someone is missing them by now. He can think about Summer, calling his phone. He can think about CJ checking Mitch’s house. He can think about Stephanie organizing a rescue party. He can think about hope.
Mitch sighs, and he watches Brody for a moment, like he’s trying to see the things that Brody isn’t saying. Maybe it’s not an important secret, but it’s still a secret. They’re secret, that Brody’s scared shitless.
And that Mitch understands. “We’ll figure it out,” he promises, a little quieter than before. He doesn’t look at the bad guy. This time, Brody doesn’t either. “We always do.”
There it is, Brody thinks as he swallows back another question, another tremor, another fear. There’s hope.
The kind that only Mitch Buchannon can give.
The only kind that’s proven to be worth anything at all.
-o-
The next person who speaks is, explicably, Mitch.
Brody’s run out of things to say, and Mitch’s promise -- unspoken and spoken -- is enough to calm him down while the boat continues on in its trajectory. So, nothing’s okay, but maybe Brody’s okay for now because, at this point, there’s nothing else for him to be.
Except maybe dead.
And that’s even worse.
So he’s surprised, then, when Mitch starts talking.
“I bet we can count this as a work day,” is what he says.
Like, out of nowhere, totally normal conversational voice.
Brody looks at him, shocked now. The bad guy raises his eyebrows momentarily before lapsing back into indifference.
“I mean, this is work,” Mitch says. He nods to Brody. “You’re even in uniform and everything.”
This is true, technically. But Brody frowns, wondering if he should lower his voice. “But, um,” he says. “I’m totally missing my shift.”
Mitch shrugs. “Being in the tower is not the only way to be on duty,” he reasons. “Some calls just go longer than others.”
The logic is there, and Brody doesn’t know what to say. Because what do you say to that? What could he possibly say? “Oh,” is what he comes up with. “So I guess my vacation time is safe, then.”
It’s a stupid thing to say, but it’s also a kind thing to say. It’s a way to end this conversation, awkward and stilted as it is. Because Mitch, he doesn’t give a shit about work days. But maybe in the silence, he’s been thinking, too. Maybe, he’s been feeling.
Maybe counting this as a work day is a way to apologize.
Maybe.
Brody sighs because this is stupid. If they’re going to die, they’re going to die, and this is stupid. He shakes his head. “This wasn’t a call, man,” he says. “We were kidnapped.”
“I could have gotten us out of it,” Mitch says. He sighs, too. They’re weary, the two of them. “But I thought that helping was the right thing to do.”
Because it is, most of the time. Because that’s the impulse. That’s the lead they’re both destined to followed. Brody can bitch and moan, but there’s no point. “I know. I mean, I did take the last call with these guys.”
Mitch nods, looking even more apologetic. “That’s why it needs to be said now,” he says. “I was pissed as hell at you for scaring me like that.”
“It was the job,” Brody says. He makes a vague nod to the shitfest around them. “I mean, I guess this is the job, too.”
“Not even the job, man,” Mitch admits. “Just. The right thing to do. People, they deserve second chances.”
Brody’s lips twist up in a rueful smile. “This is a little more than a second chance.”
Mitch doesn’t argue that point. Instead, he just keeps his gaze steady. “I tried to count how many chances I gave you, and I lost count.”
Brody can’t help it; he blushes. Glancing at the bad guy, he feels somewhat relieved that the dude still doesn’t give a shit about what they’re saying. “Yeah,” he says, trying to sound diffident. He fails. “So?”
“So, the point is, you got it,” Mitch says. “You made the right choice. And you kept making the right choices. And now, here you are. A year later, you’re a good person, Brody. One of the best I know. A year in, and I’m not giving you second chances anymore. I’m following your lead as often as you follow mine.”
Brody is still blushing, but it’s not embarrassment this time. Or, you know, not humiliation. It’s, what? Pride? Brody doesn’t know what the hell to do with pride. Not around Mitch. “I know, I get it, I do,” he says, and he lowers his voice because this isn’t a secret that matters much to the dude with the gun, but it’s kind of one that matters to him. He keeps his eyes on Mitch, though, because that matters. Shit, this matters. “Coming here was the right thing to do, even if it is probably going to go completely wrong. It’s just that I really hate the idea of dying.”
Mitch snorts, and it’s his turn to be incredulous. “Is that why the last time we gave these guys a chance, you jumped in front of a bullet?”
Brody is still flushing red, deeper than before. “I never said I was consistent.”
“No,” Mitch agrees, lips turning up in a small smile. “Except I think maybe you are.”
He means that in a good way. The best way.
“Besides,” Mitch says. “I don’t want to die, either. And I have no intention of letting you die this time any more than before.”
There’s a resolution in his voice that makes Brody sit up a little straighter. Their kidnapper looks at them a little more intently, too. Feeling himself start to tremble, Brody tries to laugh. “I think we’re a little out of our depth,” he says, diffusing the building tension.
Mitch response is without hesitation. “We’re lifeguards,” he says. “Nothing is out of our depth.”
“Yeah, um,” Brody says and he glances at the guy with a gun, smiling a flat smile. “Pretty sure a flotation device isn’t going to cut it this time around.”
That’s funny, and it’s not. Mitch smiles in a way that makes him look older than ever before. “Flotations devices don’t save people.”
Brody nods along. “Lifeguards do.”
It’s the answer they both know to the question they’re both asking.
“I thought last time that it would get easier, you know,” he says. “That I would want to be such a dick in the face of danger. I mean, you’ve been doing this for years without flinching. How?”
Mitch lets out a long breath, and he shakes his head. “I thought I had it figured out,” he says. “Until you joined the team.”
He closes his eyes, tipping his head back against the wall behind them. “Damn it, Brody,” he mutters. “Why do you have to be the exception to every rule?”
It’s so tired, so weary, so true. Brody almost feels sorry for Mitch. “It’s a talent, I think,” he says. “Probably one of my only ones.”
Mitch laughs at that, opening his eyes to look at Brody again.
Brody feels his shoulders sink. He looks at the bad guy, the gun, the vast ocean outside. “What the hell are we going to do, Mitch? We’re not saving anyone this time. Not even ourselves.”
Mitch looks around, eyes skimming over the bad guy. “Well, that’s what second chances are for, then,” he says. “And let’s hope that everyone here has one more chance left.”
Mitch closes his mouth, and Brody hears what Mitch isn’t saying.
Especially us.
Brody swallows hard, and tries not to think about it. About how someday, a second chance is a last chance.
How today might finally, irrevocably be that day.
-o-
Funny, Brody’s been bored while in the back, but when the boat comes to a stopped and he’s pulled to his feet again, it doesn’t seem like nearly long enough. No one asks his opinion on this, though. This is not a surprise. Few people want Brody’s opinion. Even though sometimes it’s not all bad.
Like his opinion that he doesn’t want to die.
That’s a pretty good opinion, honestly.
And no one gives a shit.
The bad guy prods him in front of Mitch, and they’re unceremoniously herded back into the main cabin. Deran is being shoved back to the ground where Adrian is still slumped against the wall. He doesn’t look any happier than Brody feels, but he expresses that through rage and anger.
“I’m doing what you want, asshole, so ease up,” Deran fumes, suggesting clearly how well things have been going out here.
The bad guy at the control smirks but doesn’t spare a glance at him. Instead, he nods to the second bad guy, who is in the process of directing Brody and Mitch to the floor next to Adrian. “We’re just about there,” the first one says. “Coordinates are a match.”
The second one keeps his gun in Mitch’s general direction, but he ducks his head for a better look outside. “No sign of anyone?”
“Eh, it’s still a little early,” the first replies.
“It’s not professional to wait,” the second mutters.
This talk of professionalism is ironic. Just, you know, given the profession. Brody’s pretty sure that no one is upset when a hitman is late.
“Assholes,” Deran seethes again because yes, someone can be more agitating than Mitch. “My family isn’t going to work on your schedule. You may think you’re in control of this shit fest, but it’s their show.”
The first one turns at this, looking wryly at Deran. “Really, you shouldn’t tell me that since you want to live.”
“Shoot me, then,” Deran spits. He’s still squirming in his bonds as if he thinks, after all this time, he’s actually going to get out. “Just shoot me if you’ve got the balls.”
Leaving the controls, the first one steps closer as if considering it. He produces his gun, cocking his head as he levels it experimentally in Deran’s direction. Brody flinches on all of their behalfs. Because that’s what you do when people start pointing guns at people. Adrian’s still mostly out of it, so his indifference is to be expected, and Mitch is an idiot but what the hell is Deran’s problem?
“Shooting you is counterproductive,” the guy says, letting the enunciated words fall of his tongue with meaning. He moves the gun, swinging it to Adrian. “But if you want me to fire the gun, there are other targets.”
Yeah, that threat goes about as well as can be expected. Deran is flying to his feet in an instant, charging at the bad guy with a ferocity that is sudden, violent and somehow totally expected. Brody curses, and Mitch somehow ducks in front of him before the violent scuffle comes to a head.
Brody waits for the gunshot, eyes closed, breath baited.
There’s a grunt and the sound of flesh on flesh.
Someone hits the floor hard, and Brody opens his eyes to see the first bad guy laughing while the other kicks Deran back into his spot next to Adrian. “Shit,” the second says. “We should have just knocked them all out and spared ourselves the trouble! The first guy was easy!”
“The first guy was bait,” the first says, and he appears exasperated as the second pushes Deran with his foot back into a semi-upright position. Brody can see that he’s got a gash on his forehead where he’s been hit with the gun. That could be worse, all things considered.
But this whole thing could be better, that’s for sure.
Deran is dazed, but he’s still pissed. “You should have just killed me,” he growls.
“And I told you, if anyone is going to die, it’s your boyfriend, okay?” the first says. “So if you’re still interested in saving his life, just do what you’re told. This is almost over, right?”
Mitch is still pressed closed to Brody, close enough that Brody can feel his heart pounding. That’s reassuring somehow. That Brody’s not the only one on edge here. That they’re both still alive. For now.
Deran is clearly ready to protest.
Mitch intervenes. “We’re good,” he says, letting the weight of his voice carry over the tension. The bad guys look at him; Deran all but glares at him. “It’s just been a long day for all of us.”
He tips his head toward Adrian while he holds Deran’s gaze.
“Right?” he asks purposefully.
Deran presses his lips closed, a tight, white line. He’s still fuming, but he nods.
The first guy snorts and goes back to the controls. The second gives a long suffering sigh.
“We just have to stay calm,” Mitch advises, keeping his voice low. He glances at Brody, who nods in ready agreement. He’s good with calm. Calm is good. Calm is not shooting guns. Calm is not dying. Brody can do calm. Mitch looks at Deran. “That’s all.”
Deran inhales sharply through his nose. “These guys are--”
“Not what matters,” Mitch finished for him. He bobs his head toward Adrian again. “Right?”
Deran looks at Adrian, and the tension in his body breaks. The tautness in his shoulder dissipates, and he slumps back against the wall as if the sight of Adrian’s broken body breaks his own spirit.
Sitting back now, Deran has leaned in close to Adrian. At the touch of their shoulders, Adrian stirs slightly, murmuring quietly as he turns his head into Deran’s arm. Deran takes a breath, lets it out and nods. “Right,” he agrees. “I told you all I was going to take care of this, and I meant it. Things are going to be okay.”
It’s supposed to be reassuring, and Brody really does want to be reassured. But this day’s been kind of long, and Brody may trust the over the top shit when Mitch says it (most of the time), but he’s having a hard time giving Deran the benefit of the doubt all things being considered.
Still, Brody should shut up.
With the guys and the guns, he probably would.
But Deran’s an idiot who may be dangerous but no longer scares him. “No offense, man,” he says, because he totally is going to offend this dude right now because, well, he kidnapped Brody this morning and Brody can be a petty son of a bitch. “But that’s, like, the promise you made Adrian before this happened, right? After the last incident?”
The incident that got Adrian beaten and drowned.
And the incident when Brody had been shot.
In case anyone is wondering.
(No one is, the bastards.)
“Well, sure,” Deran says, like Brody’s point isn’t valid. “And it will be. It all will be. My family’s coming. This is going to be okay. I don’t lie to Adrian. Not to him.”
Deran is calmer in his resolve. He sounds confident, less homicidal.
There’s really no way to know if that’s a good thing or not.
It’s a little humorous that Brody things there’s still good things to be had in this situation. Blind hope -- that’s Mitch’s fault.
Next to him, though, Mitch seems to share his concerns for once. “Just make sure you’ve thought this all through,” he advises. “Because Adrian’s not okay now, not by a long shot.”
They all look at Adrian, listening for a moment to the wheezing sound of his breath. His condition seems to have gotten worse since Mitch and Brody were hauled to the back room, and he shows no inkling of consciousness anymore.
It’s a sight that reminds Brody how precarious this whole mess is.
It only serves to harden Deran’s resolve. “He will be,” he says. “I swear it.”
“I know you mean it,” Mitch says. “And maybe this time, you’re right. But you have to remember, he’ll follow you anywhere. We all know that now, and it’s nothing to me, not really. But you’ve got to look at those implications and understand what they mean.”
Brody’s not sure that it’s actually nothing to them, but getting between Deran and Mitch increasingly seems like a futile and frustrating thing. Two hard headed idiots who always think they’re right. At least Brody has the benefit of Mitch not being a criminal. That’s an advantage that Adrian seems to be lacking these days.
Deran, while he’s got no room to argue, isn’t the type to back down. He nods his head, looking down his nose coolly at Mitch. “Yeah, I got it,” he says. “Do you?”
This time, they both look at Brody.
Brody looks back, dumbfounded.
Then, he realizes.
Adrian followed Deran into this mess.
And Brody has followed Mitch.
The reasons are a little different, the contexts are super different, but really the outcome is the same. When someone trusts you like that, it’s a hell of a thing. It’s something you have to think about because most people will let their common sense stop them from walking into a disaster. When you’re following someone like Mitch or Deran, common sense kind of has to go by the wayside. The reasons can be good, the reasons can be bad, but relationship is the thing that overpowers all of that.
That’s how you end up shot and beat up and kidnapped and all that shit.
That’s how.
Mitch doesn’t flinch, but Brody can see the flicker of guilt in his eye. Mitch is confident and self assured, but he’s not above making mistakes. And he’s a guy who owns his own shit; he doesn’t shy away from it.
In short, he’s not wrong often, but when he is, he’s not afraid to admit it.
That’s all well and good.
Just.
Well.
Brody’s pissed and he’s angry but it’s likely that Mitch isn’t wrong now.
Because following Mitch?
Is the best thing Brody’s ever done.
And even if this year ends today, violently and painfully, it’s still the best year of Brody’s life.
Finally, Brody finds his voice again. “He understands,” he says, nodding at Mitch with his own resolve. He looks back at Adrian, back at Deran. “We all do now.”
It’s not clear if that will make a difference in the outcome.
Or if their fates will be the same.
-o-
Either way, it’s time to find out.
Brody’s not the last to realize the boat’s coming, but that’s really only because Adrian’s unconscious. But whatever.
Mitch hears it first, probably because he’s got superpowered hearing or because the waves talk to him. The bad guys perk up second, and Deran’s back to trying to squirm out of his ropes for the millionth time. Brody has to crane his neck to get a look out at the water, but he can hear the engine before he sees the boat approaching, fast and smooth off the port side.
The bad guys go to the window, muttering between each other for a moment.
“It’s time, morons,” Deran says derisively. “That’s the rescue party.”
“That’s the payday,” the first guy says, and he nudges the second who turns his gun back on them with renewed purpose. “So everyone play nice and we’ll get through this.”
With that, he heads out while the second creep maintains a position by the door, gun facing them. Deran is still struggling, somehow both smug and desperate at the same time. Adrian shifts, blinking hazily a few times as if he also feels the weight of the ensuing confrontation bearing down on them.
Brody’s adrenaline starts to surge again, which is impressive since that’s what it’s been doing most of the day. Still, as he works not to hyperventilate, Mitch ducks his head close to him, and this time, when he speaks, he’s whispering. “Stay down, keep low,” he says, low enough for only Brody to hear him. “Whatever happens, you stay out of it. If we need to, we look for cover.”
This advice sounds remarkably rational. It’s sane. Common sense.
Which is precisely why Brody has to object to it.
Mitch and Brody have to balance each other out.
That’s the way it is.
So if Mitch isn’t going to be the idiot, then Brody will be. He shakes his head. “But we came here to save lives,” he reminds Mitch, his voice couched in a low hiss. The boat outside has pulled up next to them, but the engine is still idly. Brody wets his lips, forcing himself to swallow. “We’re lifeguards.”
“Right now we’re not,” Mitch tells him, as serious as he’s ever been.
“But you said this was a work day,” Brody says.
Mitch looks at him.
Brody looks back.
There’s something there.
No, everything’s there.
Because sure, this is a work day, and if they can save Adrian, if they can save Deran, if they can save any of these other idiots in this mess, then sure, they’ll do that. But even lifeguards have priorities from time to time.
It’s not a bad thing to know what yours are.
“Still,” Mitch says, because that’s a whole lot more concise than all the rest.
Brody’s down with that; he is. Except.
“Is that what you’re going to do?” he asks. “Are you going to sit back, hang low?”
He asks the question like he doesn’t know the answer.
But the second he asks the question, they both know that the answer has to change.
There’s only one way for Mitch to keep Brody safe, after all.
And that way is to keep himself safe first.
Brody follows him, after all. In everything.
“Yeah,” Mitch says, and he’s not lying because Mitch doesn’t do lying. He doesn’t. “I want us to get out of here and back to the beach. I need us to get out of here. You and me.”
It’s a choice they’ll make because everyone makes a choice. It’s a choice they make because they understand the consequences.
It’s a choice they’ll make.
And there’s no turning back now.
“Okay,” Brody says as voices sound from outside. Brody catches sight of men with guns, a woman with blonde hair and a dark smile. “Okay.”
If it’s good enough for Mitch, then it’s good enough for Brody.
Brody’s made a life by that.
Maybe he’ll make a death by it, too.
-o-
So it’s possible, just somewhat possible, that Mitch has misjudged this situation pretty badly today.
Now, to be fair, he’d walked in on Brody being held at gunpoint. No matter how the story goes from there, things are probably not going to be good. But Mitch can’t lie; he had options. He’s had more than one gun held on him and he’s never cowed to commands. That’s not his style. So the fact that he agreed to a kidnapping so readily is on him.
The thing is, he’d wanted to help.
Seeing Deran again had seemed like unfinished business. A save only half done. Mitch hates loose ends, so it’s natural and normal to want to tie this one off once and for all.
He just hadn’t intended to be tied up with it.
Much less, Brody.
Because now, here they are. A hostage situation turned into a hostage situation with a ransom demand that may or may not include their safety. Being in a hostage situation is dire when you’re the mark. But when you’re not? When you’re well and truly expendable?
Well, that’s the part that Mitch has overlooked.
Basically, completely.
In his quest to make a save, he’d put more people in danger. Himself, that’s no big deal. But Brody?
That one matters to him. A little.
A lot.
Because Brody is the biggest loose end in Mitch’s life, and he’s pretty sure that’s going to take years to tie off. Probably a lifetime.
And lifetime doesn’t mean one that ends today, thank you very much.
Mitch is resolved in this.
Unfortunately, this is a situation where no one seems remotely swayed by Mitch’s resolve. Turns out, they’re a long way from the beach today.
Too long.
So Mitch hunkers down, pulls himself in front Brody as best he can, and watches as shit gets real.
The bad guy outside, the one clearly in charge of negotiations, has a wide stance and he’s speaking louder than normal. He’s projecting calm and confident, trying to dominate the conversation by the force of his will. It’s not a bad effort, all things considered.
Mitch watches the reaction from the other boat and knows immediately that this guy isn’t as effective as he wants to be. The armed men on the other boat are a compelling counterargument to anything the guy says, but that’s not why he’s outmatched.
No, he’s got nothing compared to the woman in charge.
From inside, bound and at gunpoint, it’s probably hard to be definitive about all the details of what’s happening in the exchange. But Mitch knows a leader when he sees one. He knows someone who gets shit done.
And this lady, neat blonde hair, prim business suit, cold deadly stare, gets shit done.
Probably bad shit, too.
The look in her face is more deadly than the one in Leeds’ last year. Her smile is enough to make Mitch wish again he’d thought twice before dragging Brody along on another second chance for Adrian and Deran.
“Who is that?” Mitch whispers to Deran.
Deran, pulled tight against Adrian, looks grim. “That,” he says. “Is my mother.”
Brody gapes next to him, and Mitch can’t blame him. Outside, Deran’s mouth laughs, and the sound is like ice.
“I told you,” Deran says gravely as the guy outside nods to the one in the doorway. “Second chances are hard to come by in my family.”
The guy comes close to them, kicking Brody before reaching down and dragging Adrian to his feet. “Come on,” he growls. “Let’s get this over with.”
Deran is on his feet, struggling to support Adrian as they stumble to the door together. Brody trips along behind them, glancing back at Mitch imploringly.
Mitch nods, silently willing Brody to keep to the plan.
He follows behind, the gun at his back.
Shit.
He blinks in the sunlight, inhaling the familiar smell of the ocean as he tries to orient himself for what comes next.
Now if only he had a plan.