He'd been watching them before they were even aware he was their intended target. They were easy enough to spot, despite the care they took to remain unassuming. That was his advantage, getting to observe them before they would even know to get their guard up. He remained calm as he trotted down the stairs, and wasn't surprised when first Captain Dalton, and then Sergeant Khan glanced at him as he passed, deciding his threat level with a quick sweep. He was careful not to arouse their suspicions. Hoffman saw his exit and almost reached it, when the team of three closed off the exit. He thought of just waving to P in one of their collar cams, but decided against it, better to test her, she always did love a challenge.

Patricia was sharp. All it took was a few words for her to recognize his voice. Hoffman smiled. It really was beautiful how the pieces were falling together. Poetry in motion. Hoffman felt his excitement rise as he was blindfolded and loaded in a van back to their home base. The tension in the car was palpable as they tried to figure out who the hell he was and why their superior had suddenly demanded he be kept prisoner. Hoffman leaned back luxuriously. The time was soon approaching when he could look into Patricia's eyes a she met her end.

Hoffman looked on quietly as the team moved about the Quonset hut. The woman intrigued him, as women usually did. She was a firecracker. Tough exterior with a fire in her belly. She wasn't too easy to crack. She didn't act like she had anything to prove, most likely she'd already proven it a thousand times and knew it. He almost didn't know what he would use to get under her skin until a pattern started revealing itself. The sniper spent just enough time by her leader's side to raise his suspicion. Hoffman gazed at the two intently. They hadn't slept together, that much was obvious, but there was definitely something there.

Dalton was a difficult read, but Hoffman knew the look of a man consumed with a woman, hadn't he looked at himself enough over the years to memorize the symptoms?

There were the glances. Quick, and to the untrained eye, nothing of note, but Hoffman had made a study of reading people. Dalton was laser focused on his task until Jasmine walked by, and then his eyes would flick to her passing form and back to his task again. It would have meant nothing if he had also glanced up anytime one of the others passed, but they didn't seem to have the same effect.

His next clue came when he spotted the obvious frustration on Dalton's face, and the way it eased when the woman hopped up onto the desk where he worked and began lazily tossing an unarmed grenade. They exchanged looks every once in a while, and they were full of the kind of meaning only those who were closely bonded could share. He was frustrated with the inaction Patricia had forced on him, and she was there as a support, her glances reassuring and full of trust that he would handle it. It seemed to bolster him. Hoffman shook his head. He'd made the same mistake too. He'd lived for the moments when Patricia's eyes would gleam with pride when he'd gained invaluable information, or ended a person responsible for the death of hundreds. When he'd felt like he'd become the monster, all he needed was Patricia's presence to make him feel like the hero again.

Any doubts Hoffman had about the complicated emotions between the two was erased when he made the little boyfriend jab. He'd aimed it at Jaz, and had been doubly pleased when it managed to stick two targets. Jaz's quick, irritated response had told him exactly what he'd needed to know. Dalton's response told him more. His feelings for Jaz were deep and complicated, and fully compartmentalized. He probably had some stupid reason for it, duty, honor, most likely it was to protect Jaz above all, because the woman always got the blame if feelings formed in a combat unit. But Hoffman knew better than anyone that suppressed desires became an ever growing weakness. He wanted to push that tender spot, make the man in front of him writhe, but Patricia walked in, and all his focus shifted to the object of a 12 year obsession.

He gave them just enough to make them think Patricia had some sort of influence on him. She had once, but he was long beyond the weakness that had made him so vulnerable to her. As they planned a ruse to trap his man his eyes drifted to Patricia. She kept a wary eye on him and he shrugged as if to say, yeah I can make the moral choice sometimes.

Jaz walked out in outfit designed to make a man think of sin, and Hoffman's eyes flicked immediately to Dalton, who was still unaware of her presence. McGuire stepped out of their living quarters and nodded to Jaz

"Nice"

She rolled her eyes, but her lip twitched.

Dalton glanced their way and Hoffman had to give the guy credit. He spent all of a millisecond looking like he got hit by a two by four before he nodded at them to go ahead. There was one more quick glance Jaz's way before he turned back to Preach at the computer.

From what he'd managed to piece together, from reports and medical, Jaz had come out of her incident in Tehran mostly unscathed. She'd been back on duty within two weeks, a hell of a quick turnaround for someone who'd been tortured for over 24 hours. She was tough. That was easy enough to see, but there were always cracks, ones that went unnoticed until they became crevices. It spoke volumes of Dalton's trust and confidence in Jaz that he left her alone with him. Hoffman was somewhat surprised, but mostly impressed. As soft as Dalton was, he didn't become the legendary military leader he was by protecting people's feelings. If he'd left Jaz to watch over him, that meant he trusted she wasn't vulnerable to his constant barbs. Hoffman smiled to himself. She probably wasn't, but he could definitely use her to get to Dalton.

Hoffman watched Jaz. She had been cleaning the guns in storage for the past thirty minutes as a way to pass the time. He'd tried a few barbs here and there, but she'd mostly ignored him, her focus on the weapons she held in her hands. She exhibited the precise control her position as team sniper demanded. No matter how many soft points he tried to press, she remained at ease, cleaning the weapons almost as if the action soothed her.

"Do you think they only keep you around to fill some sort of quota? The media has made such a stink about women in comba-" despite himself, Hoffman stiffened slightly when Jaz calmly leveled a sniper rifle in his direction. She adjusted the scope slightly, polishing it with a cloth, as if her only intention had been to clean it, but a cocky smile crossed her lips.

Hoffman smirked. Hell, even he wasn't immune to the force of that gaze behind a gun pointed at his heart. They both glanced in Dalton's direction as he entered, and Hoffman pinned her with a knowing look.

"Don't worry, he feels the same way"

Jaz let out a snort.

"Oh really? Wow, I can't wait to write about it in my journal"

"Probably why he picks you to work with him more often than not, gives him an excuse to be near you."

She rolled her eyes and walked casually up to the cage.

"You think you're the first man to tell me I only got picked because I'm a woman?"

Pleased with her, he opened his mouth to retort, only to be interrupted.

"Jaz," Dalton signaled her with a look, and she immediately stepped back.

"We had quite the conversation while you were gone. She is quite a woman. I understand why you put a bullet in a man's leg for her. Might have done worse if the situation called for it" Hoffman said viciously, and enjoyed the way Jaz's eyes widened slightly and snapped to Dalton.

Dalton did an admirable job of staying unfazed, but Hoffman saw the fissures forming as dark shame shadowed his eyes.

"Oh I'm sorry, did you not know?" He asked innocently, gazing past Dalton to Jaz, whose features darkened with stormy anger. He watched her stalk off before he turned a smug grin back to Dalton.

"It's better she knows now, the kind of monster you can be."

Dalton's face was unreadable as he stared at him.

"It's not a criticism you know. I salute you, anything to get the job done."

Preach stepped over and tied the gag around his mouth again and Hoffman knew he'd hit a nerve. He'd tried to play the hero too, and look where it had gotten him. A kill order from his country, with the woman he loved pressing the trigger. He looked across the room at Patricia, who had been ignoring him as some sort of tactical move. Some of that bitter anger threatened to explode out of him, but he pulled back on it, focusing on the bomb that lay mere feet away. He would get his vengeance.

Dalton strode out of the room and Hoffman knew where he was going. Once upon a time it had been important to him that Patricia only see the good in him too.

Jaz stood outside keeping watch as the sun set. When someone stepped through the entryway of the Quonset hut she didn't look their way. She knew it was Dalton. He stood quietly for a moment before letting out a tired sigh.

"I should have told you." He said finally, shaking his head.

"I didn't need to be briefed on that aspect of the mission. There is no tactical advantage gained by-"
"But I should have told you," Dalton interrupted, stepping in front of her so she had to look at him.

Anger burned in her at the guilt on his face. She hated the way Hoffman had managed to get his claws into them.

"I was ashamed," he said, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "Because I wasn't thinking tactically. I was willing to get information no matter the cost."

"I wasn't thinking tactically when I killed Arthur. It was blind rage. You know what was in my mind the entire time I strangled Arthur? Revenge. Revenge for making me think you were dead, for making me think my team was captured." She was trembling with anger now "for…" she couldn't finish the phrase. "Do you think that makes me a bad person?" She challenged

"Of course it doesn't" Dalton said

"Then you have no reason to feel ashamed" Jaz said matter-of-factly.

Dalton sighed and looked out at the darkening sky.

"I can't help but think that the longer we sit here without putting that guy in a cell, the closer we get to a hell of a lot of trouble."

"We've got our guy, thanks to my least favorite undercover op by the way, now we just have to wait for him to lead us back to Verina"

Dalton grinned at her

"I think I was kind of a fan of Stacy."

Jaz gave him a withering stare.

"Honey trap worked," Preach said, popping his head out and holding up a tablet with a blinking signal light.

Jaz rolled her eyes. The guys were much too amused with her in the honey trap role, and she had a feeling it would be brought up to exhaustion before they were willing to let it go.

"What do you say we go scope out a compound," Dalton said, nudging her shoulder with his.