"I don't claim to be a Wise Man, a Poet or a Saint,

I'm just another man who's searching for a better way

But my heart beats loud as thunder for the things that I believe

Sometimes I want to run for cover. Sometimes I want to scream."

-Jon Bon Jovi, Bang a Drum

Eliot knew what gunshots were. He knew how to handle them, what effect they had on the body, and what the aftermath was. He was a soldier, a sniper, and he'd been involved in more covert operations than he cared to remember, so he knew what sacrifice was. He had been both the tortured and the torturer, the predator and the prey. Eliot knew what it meant to fight through pain, to keep going when the only thing keeping a person going was his own grit. He had been shot before, so when Udall shot him, he was reasonably sure he could still function, at least long enough to be sure his friends were safe and the situation that Udall presented was handled.

It was this knowledge that allowed him to continue his attack on Udall, even after he had been shot, not once but twice, and allowed him to continue running even with a hole in his leg, to use the wounded shoulder to knock the man out, thereby neutralizing this latest threat to himself and his friends. He wondered, for a moment, if he had killed the man, but didn't have a lot of time to think about it, as his leg gave way upon landing, and he sprawled like a ragdoll in the middle of the aisle. He tucked his head into his chest at the last moment, and tried to land as well as he could. He succeeded only partially, as he ended up with a few more bumps and bruises, and did some further damage to his injured shoulder. He got up slowly, still slightly disoriented from the motion. Grasping the metal pole in front of him, he used his good arm to pull himself up, far enough to sit on the train's bench. He just sat still for a moment, catching his breath. Parker and Hardison would be back soon, and he would need all of the energy he could get to handle the two of them together. I need to call Vance, he thought. Let him know the threat's been neutralized.

Vance was supposed to be taking care of the things they did to neutralize this threat, and there was a lot to take care of. That brought Eliot's thoughts back to Udall, and he peered at the man through eyes that were starting to water. He sighed in relief when he saw the man's chest moving up and down, however slightly. He was alive. Not that Eliot cared if the man lived or died, particularly, but it was easier to stay under the radar if there wasn't an unexplained corpse floating around.

With some effort, he maneuvered his phone out of his pocket and placed it on his good leg. Using his good arm, he scrolled to Vance's contact information, and pulled up the screen to write a text message. He sat staring at the screen for a moment, then cleared it and changed to the call screen. Vance had been away from his phone earlier, and Eliot didn't want to take the chance that the message would be intercepted by the wrong person. Besides, it took less effort to call than it did to text, and he was quickly losing energy.

"Vance," he said, when he recognized the voice that answered. "Mission accomplished." He listened for a moment, and then said, "In the underground. Maintenance tunnel nearest the Foggy Bottom station. Yeah. I'll have to meet you upstairs, though." Suddenly he had another thought. "And we'll need two doses of the flu vaccine Udall was storing at his place." He was silent a moment longer, listening some more, and then said, "Thanks, Vance. See you soon."

Parker and Hardison came back inside about that time, hanging on to one another for dear life, as though they were afraid if they let go they might never hold one another again. He could relate to that feeling. Things like this had that effect. He studied both of them carefully, satisfying himself that they weren't injured. Parker, always a bit more perceptive than Hardison, if sometimes more naïve, guessed his intent, and said, "We're fine. You?"

He nodded, then smiled his slightly sarcastic smile, and said, "Well, you know, there's just this little matter of being shot. Twice."

At that moment, they jerked their heads around as they heard a clattering sound, and a second later, two men became visible at the bottom of the staircase to the maintenance tunnel. They were pushing a stretcher between them, and Eliot marveled that it even fit through that passage. He would have sworn while running through there that it wasn't wide enough for a stretcher. It was barely wide enough for him. And it was just going to be oodles of fun getting him back up those stairs on that thing. As the men drew closer, Eliot recognized their uniforms. DC Fire and Rescue.

The two EMT's parked the gurney on the platform right in front of the door. When they stepped inside, Eliot glared at them and said, "I ain't ridin' that thing."

"Sir, it's going to be a nightmare for you to try to walk up those stairs. Your friend, the military guy, asked us to see if you needed help."

"I'm fine, thank you. I can walk."

They kept reflexively reaching to touch Eliot, trying to find a place it was safe to touch him, until he growled his scariest growl and put some iron in his voice. "Go on. Get out of here. Tell Vance I'll see him topside." They cowered a bit at his tone, and Eliot almost felt sorry for them. After all, they were just trying to do their jobs.

Parker stepped up on one side, while Hardison stepped up on the other. It took a while, and he felt each step they took, but eventually they made it up the stairs, to the street above. Eliot looked at all the people crowding the street, some hurrying by to try to get wherever it was they were going, and others who had obviously heard about the commotion in the subway tunnel on the news, and had come to 'rubber-neck', as his father used to say.

The ambulance was parked right near the entrance to the maintenance tunnel. Thank God for small favors, he thought, allowing Parker and Hardison to half walk, half drag him over to it, and sighing in relief as they helped him sit down on the back. The lead EMT who had tried to treat him downstairs came over and started cutting the sleeve of his shirt so he could inspect the gunshot wound. Eliot looked around, appraising the scene and making sure they weren't in any danger in the open like this, when he spotted Vance standing over in the edge of the trees, talking to someone. When their eyes met, Vance nodded. Thank you.

Eliot smiled, and nodded to him in return. You're welcome.

Even so, Vance waited until the EMT was in the middle of wrapping Eliot's shoulder in a rather awkward, by the looks of it, bandage before walking over.