#waking lions

He knew you well enough to know that you'd be mortified, later. You kept so many things to yourself that knowing an entire room full of people had heard that would probably send you into hiding. 

From the way Laswell glanced at the door after you left, Price knew that she was thinking the same thing. 

But there would be time later to console you, to apologize for being an ass, to make sure you were alright. 

For now, he had work to do. 

Now that there were three groups involved, it was easier to split up the targets. Easier to send Soap with Alejandro and Rodolfo, to keep Ghost with him and Gaz, to let KorTac keep to themselves. This wasn't the kind of mission he wanted to test by putting together potentially explosive personalities. 

(Price could admit, if only to himself, that he didn't trust himself to work with those three. Not right now, not with the new intel still so close to the surface, not with his own curiosity burning a hole in his stomach.) 

The three targets were, of course, not near each other. 

“I can arrange transport,” Laswell said. It was not an offer for the 141 or the Vaqueros, but it was an offer for KorTac. 

“We've got our own,” Declan said, a relatively gentle refusal. “Timing will be tight.” 

“Just have to coordinate,” Alejandro said, unbothered. “We won't give them a chance to warn each other.” 

“Give me a little time to coordinate the flights,” Laswell said, stepping closer to Declan. It was as close to a dismissal as the rest of them would get. She didn't need them hanging over her shoulder while she worked her magic. 

So Price stepped out of the room, his boys behind him. 

“Think Ace is alright?” Gaz asked softly. He was a smart, perceptive lad. Cared so much still. Probably too much, sometimes. 

“I'll check in on her,” Price murmured. He still had one phone number that worked for you, fortunately. 

It rang through to voice mail. 

Okay. Not to panic. Didn't mean anything. 

Soap and Ghost ran off to get lunch for everyone, since planning was best done on a full stomach. 

Price tried calling again. No answer again. 

It could be a thousand things. You could have your phone on silent. You could be mad at him and ignoring his calls. You could be busy with something else. 

But his paranoia was rearing its head, undeniable and ugly. 

You were right in the middle of all this, of course he was going to be concerned about you. 

So he went on a little walk. To help clear his head. 

He didn't see any sign of you. Every bit of his hard-won paranoia was screaming that something was wrong. That this wasn't like you. 

One more phone call. One more. 

Then he'd move on to more drastic measures. 

The third call also went to voice mail. You weren't picking up. One he could excuse, two was iffy. But three calls?

Something was wrong. 

“Gaz,” he called as he strode back into the building. “Need the laptop.” 

Gaz was quick to produce it, giving Price a curious look. “Need any help, sir?”

“Maybe.” Price pulled up one of the programs Laswell had given him. Normally this kind of work was more up her alley - CIA shit, as Simon more or less affectionately referred to it. But Price wasn't clueless, or useless. 

Gaz behind him, watching over his shoulder. Price didn't discourage him, focused on putting in your number and letting the program do its job. 

Let this be nothing. Let him be paranoid. He could handle your temper, your hiding, your embarrassment. 

So long as you were safe. 

The tracker put your phone in a mostly residential area, well out of the way. Not near the hotel, not near anything the two of you had talked about. 

Something was wrong. 

It didn’t take him long to pull up CCTV in the area, flipping through them. There wasn’t a lot, and his jaw tightened in frustration. 

“Wait,” Gaz said over his shoulder. “Go back one.”

Price obliged, going back to the previous angle. 

“There, in the grass on the far side of the street.” Gaz pointed, shifting closer. 

Price’s heart sank right down to his boots. A cell phone lay in the grass, abandoned. He knew you well enough to know that you wouldn’t just leave your cell phone. Not without reason.

Wordlessly, he backed up the footage until he found you. He paused for a moment, taking in the scene. The car. You, standing back just a little. The man clearly encouraging you in. 

He backed up until you came into frame. 

But you weren’t alone.

“Laswell!” 

The door slammed open and Laswell was at his elbow moments later, leaning over his open shoulder. “Fuck,” she hissed, which was all the confirmation Price needed. 

The man with you was Gray. 

“How did he get her into the car?” Gaz, quiet and reasonable. 

“Threats,” Price grunted. 

“Me,” Laswell added, lips tight, fury in the crease of her brow. “He’s using me against her.” 

Price scowled. Gray needed to be taken out. Immediately. But they couldn’t give up the mission, either. 

“Track the car,” he told Gaz, pushing the laptop to his sergeant instead. “I need to know where they’re going.”

“Sir?” Gaz blinked at him, even as he pulled up the program. 

“I need some supplies.” He looked to Laswell next. 

“I’ll have them for you.” Laswell glanced back at Gaz, putting things together a little faster. “The op?”

“Needs to move forward.” Price shook his head. “I’ll be back in time, or I won’t. Gaz, you and Ghost are still on.” 

Gaz frowned but didn’t object. Good lad. “Car’s left the suburbs,” he reported, a map pulled up on his phone. “Heading south.” 

“We’ll find it again,” Laswell said, nodding to Price. “Here. Go here, take whatever you need.” She handed him an address scribbled on a piece of paper. “I’ll update you when we find the car.”

Price took the note with a nod and strode away. He didn’t wait for the elevator, hitting the door to the stairs hard enough it bounced off the wall of the stairwell. He didn’t slow, even as he hit the front door and just sidestepped running into Soap.

“Captain?” Soap called.

“Ask Laswell!” Price called over his shoulder, car keys in hand. He didn’t have time to stop and explain. 

It took very little time to get to Laswell’s supply stash, and he took what he needed. Fortunately, she was well supplied, and he made a mental note to thank her for it.

But for now, the only thing on his mind was you. 

You’d been gone for hours by now, and from the time stamp on the CCTV, you’d been in the car with Gray at least an hour. 

He stopped at the curb next to where Gaz had spotted your phone, getting out. And there it was, still sitting in the grass. 

Still open to show a new recording. 

Price listened the whole recording, jaw clenched tight, fingers gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. 

Gray knew more than he should. He had sources, clearly. 

But Price couldn’t bring himself to care much about that. No. 

He cared about the little waver in your voice, the way he could hear you putting up a brave front. 

You were terrified. And he wanted to rip Gray limb from limb for making you so scared. 

Gaz called. Price barely glanced at the phone before he connected the call. 

“We’ve got a location,” Gaz reported, voice even. Almost too even. Price could hear the stress he was hiding. 

“Tell me.” Price didn’t even pause as he memorized the address, just in case. “Picked up Ace’s phone.” 

“Anything?” Gaz tried not to sound hopeful.

“Ace got a recording before she got in the car.” Price had to pause for a moment, clenching his jaw. “He knows too much. Knew about us, said he’s got something planned for Laswell, too.” 

“Fucking hell.” Gaz drew in a deep breath. “Sure you don’t need backup, sir?” 

“I’ll keep you updated.” Price barreled through a yellow light, ignoring everything not an active danger to him. “How are your preparations going?” 

“Laswell’s got the flights arranged,” Gaz said, a little reluctantly. “Timing is coordinated. We’ll be leaving in a few hours.”

“Rog.” Price doubted he’d make it back in time. And if, by some miracle, he did, he didn’t know if he’d be in the correct frame of mind to be on mission. 

“Take the next left.”

Price obeyed without question, only breaking one or two traffic laws. (It was fine, Laswell would clear it up later.) “The others?”

“Up to date,” Gaz reported. “Had to talk Soap out of going after you.”

Price snorted. Surprising - he hadn’t known that sergeant had much fondness for you. Then again, Soap could just be reacting because Price was fond of you. Sometimes that was enough. “I trust Ghost is behaving.”

Gaz huffed. “Define behaving,” he grumbled, overly dramatic. Breaking the tension a bit. 

“He hasn’t killed anyone yet or there’d be a lot more yelling.” Price scowled at the driver ahead of him, who was going exactly the speed limit. 

“Laswell’s on top of everything,” Gaz assured him. “Go right, cut up two streets, and then left.”

Price grunted as he followed Gaz’s directions, pushing his foot down as soon as he was out from behind the slow driver. “How far?”

“Rate you’re going? Fifteen minutes.” 

Price breathed slowly. You’d have been alone with Gray for near two hours by that point. He had no idea what condition he’d find you in. If you’d even be alive. The thought sent pain through his chest, clenching and sharp, but he forced himself not to shy away from it.

It was a possibility, even if it was one he did not want to face. 

If it was true… if you were already gone…

He’d burn Gray alive. 

Price switched from the call to a comm unit he tucked in his ear before he headed out of the car. He’d parked a little ways away, just in case. The abandoned hotel was in clear sight, fortunately no taller than the surrounding buildings. Still too many hiding places, sniper spots. 

That was fine. Price would just clear the entire fucking building room by room until he had you back.  

“Careful, sir. I count six outside.” 

“Together?” Price crept forward, using a parked van as a hiding spot. 

“Spread out. Three teams of two.”

Price’s lips thinned. Time to thin out the herd, then. 

The first two fell so quickly they were almost simultaneous. Price moved around the van, keeping low and creeping towards the next pair, the silenced pistol firm in his grip. This was normal, easier. It was easy to view these people as the enemy, easy to clear them out systematically, coolly, silently. And they were the enemy - they were working for Gray, who had clearly allied himself on the ultranationalists and terrorists.  

Which all meant that Price felt no guilt, no remorse, not even a flicker of hesitation in taking down every single man between him and you. 

“I have no cameras inside,” Gaz told him as Price finally approached the door. 

“Copy,” Price grunted. “Going dark.” He breached the door as quietly as he could, looking around. 

So far, so good.

The ground level of this building was an absolute wreck of furniture, graffiti, and rubble. Dust, dirt, and debris covered most of the floor. The main area was a mess of footprints and an open crate of supplies.

No good hints as to where Gray had taken you.

Price cleared the ground floor methodically, cold rage spurring him on. He didn’t spare any of the bodies that hit the ground a second look.

They were nothing more than obstacles. 

The last door was more than just a room, though. There was a half-open door, with a staircase going down. Maintenance, at a guess. 

And soft voices from down there. 

Too far away to tell if you were down there. But if Price had to bet, he’d guess that you were. Gray would keep you contained and out of danger, at least until he got what he wanted from you. 

“John,” Laswell said over the comm.

Price paused, pulling back from the open doorway, pitching his voice low so it wouldn’t carry. “Laswell.”

“I found some backup for you. You’ll recognize him.” 

Price blinked but didn’t allow himself any other sign of surprise. “Copy that. I’m headed downstairs - room near the back of the building has stair access.”

“I’ll pass that along.” Laswell drew in a breath, and Price waited. “If you can, bring Gray back alive.”

His lips pulled back from his teeth. “No promises.”

“Good hunting, John.” Laswell clicked off the comm. 

Price breathed in deep. Someone would be coming behind him, backup. He just needed to not shoot his backup. And possibly not shoot Gray. 

That would depend entirely on how you were when he found you. 

Price nudged the door open enough to slip through, descending silently. 

The first guard went down silently, and Price dragged the body out of the hallway and into a closet. That would buy him a little time if any other guards came through. 

A double tap through the com got his attention, and Price half-turned to find a familiar face walking down the corridor towards him.