Human Target: Debt to Pay

Debt to Pay

[Co-written by Mlle-Relda/Diane]

______________________________

A/n: This was inspired by the episode "LOCKDOWN".  My first Human Target story.

______________________________


"'D'you have a bad experience in prison once?" Winston asked.  He didn't like the look in Guerrero's eyes as the smaller man stared at the handcuffs around his wrists with pure loathing.

"You try doing time in a Venezuelan prison and see how you turn out," Guerrero growled. "I have seen things, dude…you have no idea…"

Winston blinked in surprise.  He had merely thought Guerrero didn't like being restrained and had issues with authority.  

"Which prison in Venezuela?"

The right corner of Guerrero's upper lip twitched as he said, " La Sabaneta."  He swallowed hard and continued, fighting to keep his breathing steady.  "I fucked up and got caught eliminating a threat.  American investment banker was being targeted for ratting out illegal business deals .  Should've been quick and clean but I got cocky.  I've watched men tear each other apart with their bare hands in that hellhole, Winston.  If I set foot in a jail cell--even for an instant--I swear to God, dude, this mission is aborted on my part and Chance can--!"

______________________________

  "You really think I'd let you rot in here, buddy?" said Chance, forcing Guerrero to his feet.  Guerrero's legs buckled, unable to support his weight.  Chance quickly grabbed him under the arms to keep him from falling.  La Sabaneta prison was in the midst of the '94 Cholera outbreak and Guerrero was obviously one of many to be struck ill.

"Chance-?  How'd you get passed the rioters?"

"Started the damn thing, how else?" Chance replied.  He knew that now was not the time for conversation as Guerrero, literally, looked dead on his feet.  "You look like hell, man."

If he had the energy, Guerrero would have flashed him an embittered smile.

"I'm in hell, dude…"

_______________________________

"Goddammit!" Guerrero muttered; forcing himself to clinch one of the cuffs around his wrist closed.  "If Chance gets out of this mess alive, I'm gonna kill him!"

"You've gotta funny way of showing gratitude, you know," Winston replied as he rose from his chair and over to the water cooler.   "Threatening to kill the man who saved your life."  He handed Guerrero a small paper cup filled with water.

"Get that away from me," Guerrero hissed, knocking it out of Winston's hand and sending it to the floor.  "And get me out of these goddamn cuffs!"

Winston roughly grabbed Guerrero by the lapels of his unbuttoned work shirt and nearly pulled him off his feet.  Guerrero was shaking now and there was a look of pure terror in his eyes.  

"Listen here," he said in a harsh voice.  "I know you're scared but if you don't calm down they are gonna sedate you and then you won't be any help to anyone."

"I'm not--scared--I'm at the stage--where I don't care anymore."

Winston shook his head and went back to the water cooler again.  He sat back down beside Guerrero and pressed the cup of water into the shaking man's hand.

"You're having a panic attack.  Drink that and try to steady your breathing, we have to keep a low profile here."

"You--put me in handcuffs---of course I'm gonna have a--panic attack!"

"Don't you have a "happy place" to go to when you get like this?"

Guerrero took a deep breath and shut his eyes as he exhaled.

"Hmmm…if I could be anywhere but here? Cheap motel and bangin' that hot FBI agent we met outside the Russian Embassy…"

Winston pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger in exasperation.

"Chance, get your ass outta there now…" he groaned as Guerrero dozed off beside him.