Extraction Point (Ricochet 3)

Rick was surprised Quinn was able to find her voice. With the trauma that just occurred in the parking lot and the table full of armed, angry and powerful men.

“Am I late?” Tucker burst through the door, wearing jeans and a T-shirt and looking generally disheveled, as usual. He ran a hand through his messy brown hair before throwing his bag onto an empty chair.

“No, we just started,” Clint said.

“Great. I’ll go into Mission Control and listen in on the Bluetooth so I can get logged in.” Tucker scooped up his things and disappeared back out the door.

Quinn rubbed her forehead, looking dazed. Rick noticed her hands were still raw and bleeding. “Dane—” He nodded his chin towards her fingers.

“I gotcha, Ricochet.” Dane leapt to his feet and hurried out, returning less than a minute later with a first aid kit.

He sat next to Rick and began gently cleaning Quinn up while Mack continued the meeting.

“So, as I was saying, the gym is a front for our real business, Quinn.”

She hissed as Dane rubbed something over her fingers, wincing in pain.

“You asshole!” Rick barked, feeling so territorial and agitated that he wanted to punch Dane right in the head for hurting her.

“Rick, I’m okay. He has to clean me up.”

Dane stared at Rick, waiting for permission to resume the first aid.

“Fine,” Rick snarled.

“Are you done, Rick? Can we get this show on the road before we lose the asshole?” Xavier snapped from across the table.

“Fuck you, Xav. You were supposed to be looking out for her!” If Quinn hadn’t been sitting on his lap, Rick would have flown across the table and bashed his friend’s face in.

“Fuck off, Ricochet! You think I don’t feel bad?” Xavier began to rise from his chair, his fists balled in fury. Ben Price put his hand on Xav’s shoulder, keeping him from getting up.

“Stop! Look what you’re doing to her!” Clint was yelling from his spot next to Mack.

Six pairs of eyes swung towards Quinn. Rick could feel her shaking, her face burrowed back into his chest again as Dane held onto one of her filthy hands.

Fuck, I have got to calm down.

“Enough!” Mack yelled, staring down each one of his men. The room immediately became silent. He lowered his voice to speak calmly. “Quinn, look at me please.”

It seemed even Quinn couldn’t resist obeying Mack’s orders. The man was a born leader. Slowly, she raised her head until her tear-streaked face was tilted towards the older man.

“We’re covert operatives, Quinn. Hired mercenaries. We mostly do work for the U.S. government. Do you know what that means?”

Quinn’s mouth opened and closed several times before she spoke. “Yes, I think so.”

“Good. Every man at this table is a highly trained, combat soldier. Now that you know, you can rest assured that we will protect you from your ex-husband, at all costs. Do you understand?” Mack’s leaned over the table, his weathered face looking weary but determined.

“Soldiers? So, you’re not fighters?”

Ben laughed. “We are, Quinn. We happen to be excellent fighters, but Mack recruited us for our military skills.”

“Oh.” Rick felt Quinn slump back onto his lap, most likely too dazed to ask any more questions. Dane put the first aid kit away, done wrapping her fingers up in soft gauze. “That explains the bullet wound,” she whispered.

“Now, we need a plan.” Mack sat back down. “Quinn, with you aware of the full extent of our capabilities, we don’t have to sneak around behind your back. What I’m saying is, we can without a doubt, stop your ex from ever getting near you again.”

Quinn couldn’t believe what was happening.

I’m going to wake up, and this will all have been a dream. Travis didn’t find me, Rick didn’t come out of the gym with a loaded gun, and my father’s oldest friend doesn’t run a secret mercenary for hire operation.