The sandstorm had them huddled into their tents. The weather had been unpredictable and made it hard to patrol. The brown eyed boy had only been in Syria for a few weeks and unfortunately had spent more time in their makeshift war room than anywhere else. But his best friend was stuck outside patrolling in the sand storm. His eyes flicked to the map on the table, his eyes trailing each route that had been drawn in Sharpie. He never wanted to end up in Syria, or to be called overseas at all. His team was requested and they were on a plane the very next day.
The only thing that he knew for certain was that it didn't seem like this was just any insurgent group. His group specialized in these types of problems. He was part of a team, that didn't exist, that took over when regular command couldn't handle the situation any longer. The situation they were called into reminded him too much of back in Beacon Hills when the pack of Alpha's had come to town.
"Stilinski." The brown eyed man stood at attention with his hand in a salute, "At ease." The man relaxed and stood with his legs apart and his hands clasped behind his back, "I need you and McCall in a meeting with me with Washington in thirty. Grab him and come back to the War Room.
The brown eyed man nodded his head and made a quick exit. He grabbed the bandana in his pocket and tied it over his face covering his nose and mouth. The dry hot air already felt suffocating as he made his way to his best friend. The wind had died down mostly but he had learned the hard way just how bad it could be if sand go in your nose, mouth, or eyes.
"Scott!" he yelled through the bandana hoping his best friend could hear him. Scott's head turned to look at him. "Sergeant wants us inside for a meeting. It's your lucky day." The look of relief spread across Scott's face. They both headed back inside and he waited off to the side as Scott stripped off his gear.
His head leaned in as he heard his best friend whisper, "I caught a scent while i was outside. Stiles, the chemo signals screamed anger...almost revenge."
Stiles chewed his lip mulling over his best friend's information. It paid having Scott on the team with him. His werewolf senses had saved their asses more than once, but it also fast tracked their career. It landed both of them in a program that was unlisted in any American government dossier. They were the government's last resort when shit hit the fan and the branches were pulled from the issue and only given redacted reports and orders that their team now ran the show.
Scott originally had planned to go to school to be a veterinarian, but once Stiles had told him that he had been recruited from the FBI for this team Scott managed to quickly work his way up and joining Stiles one year later. The two made the perfect asset to the team and happened to be leaders of their team. So having your best friend be a werewolf helped in high stress situations and the comfort of knowing he has your back and is able to overpower any threat they come across.
Lately most of their work stemmed from overseas. They had been running from place to place trying to find the insurgents that were responsible for too many base attacks and have taken ownership of some of the most awful terrorist attacks around the world. Which lead their team to Syria and seemed it may be the last stop. The small amount of Intel they gathered set uneasy with Stiles. Part of him didn't think this was a human thing, but a supernatural thing.
Scott was still shedding the last of his gear when Stiles decided to voice some of his thoughts, "Scott i'm not sure we're dealing with our normal situation. I feel like our issues in Beacon Hills may have followed us here. There are too many things about all of this that don't seem right."
"Stiles you haven't slept in over twelve hours, you're probably just overthinking it because you're tired."
Stiles glared at his best friend, "Ya know sometimes it's like your forget about how many times my gut feeling has been right. For instance Matt, hell even Theo!" he huffed. "I've poured over this information Scott, it doesn't add up. The places they're targeting and the way they're killing people. It just doesn't make sense unless you look at it from a certain view." he whispered harshly when he saw a private walking past them. He lifted his head in acknowledgement as the private passed not even giving Scott and Stiles a second look.
"Stiles I'm not saying you're wrong, I'm just saying that it's highly unlikely. We can look at it after the meeting with Washington. Maybe they have some more information that we haven't gotten yet." Scott slid his gear under his cot and looked at his best friend, "And afterwards get some sleep. You look like shit."
"Fuck you." Stiles rolled his eyes, "Come on."
They both started the trek to their War Room, both in comfortable silence. They both were going over all of the information they had collected since their last conference call with Washington.
Both Scott and Stiles were watching the TV in the communal makeshift 'living room'. The coverage of another mass attack scrolled across the screen. The body count rising and the blood soaked body sheets on the ground. Another bomb in France had gone off but this was outside the normal MO they were used to seeing from the group claiming responsibility. People had been slashed and impaled with shards of metal. Both of their hearts sank, they had thought they had successfully stopped the attack. The intelligence said they had stopped the radical group responsible for all the mayhem in France. Both were silent as they watched the footage. Eventually Stiles was able to tear his eyes from the screen looking at his best friend.
"Scott." his voice was soft.
"I know." the other said not meeting his eyes.
"You can't blame yourself for everything. Everything we got said it was all recovered. There is no way we could have known."
The guilt from the failed attempt at subduing more chaos and the loss of innocent lives completely took over.
"It just doesn't make sense. We cleared that compound. There was nothing left. I checked Stiles, and I mean checked." Scott knew that there wasn't any scent of explosives left in that compound once everything was seized. "This doesn't even match their MO!" his voice started to raise. "They go for extremely crowded places like airports and train stations, this was too specific!"
"Do you think it was a copycat?" Stiles asked his eyes shifting back to the television.
Scott shrugged, "Possibly?"
Scott and Stiles had requested the report on the attack and had poured over it that night. After looking over everything Stiles managed to see a few things that stood out. The attack was at small French arms conference. They were waiting on the guest list to see if there was any high profile targets that had attended. When searching through the pictures of injuries there were marks that didn't match the blast. There were puncture wounds all over some of the bodies. There were slices made going from their stomach into their ribs.
There wasn't enough evidence to really prove anything other than the both of them knowing it wasn't the group taking responsibility for it. Scott obsessed over it for months and continued to look into it, but eventually they were transferred to another location for another assignment and it was left in the past so they could concentrate on the issue they were there for.
The memory was at the forefront of Stiles mind. They had loosely discussed that maybe the arms conference was a hunter's conference. The injuries matched that of a possible werewolf but their only contact to the hunter world wasn't answering their phone calls. They eventually waved it off that maybe Beacon Hills had ruined their ability to look at anything at face value, that there always had to be a supernatural reason. From that day forward they stopped comparing everything to the supernatural world and made a step into the real world where there weren't having to battle werewolves or dread doctors, but battling true threats to the US government.
When they made it to the War Room there were only two other people there along with the sergeant. Stiles and Scott took a seat toward the back of the table. It wasn't too long before the Secretary of State appeared on the screen.
"Morning Gentleman." She was shuffling around her papers before actually looking toward the men in the room. "I know you guys have been attempting to gather Intel and we've gone through each of your reports. There has been some activity about forty clicks from you headed south. We have an operative out there that has been sending Intel, but she has failed to check in at her normal time and has been given twenty four hours to make contact. We have to take this as a possible compromised operative. It's possible the cell you've been watching has taken this as a chance for a hostage situation. You are to go to their compound and observe. Observe ONLY. We have not received any information of possible hostage situation and there have been no claims from any terrorist groups. This needs to be handle discreetly as the information she has been receiving is vital and if there is no hostage situation we do not want to spook them and ruin possible informants."
Scott and Stiles both looked at each other, their stoic faces changed to a guarded determination. Their previous mission put on hold. The weariness that Stiles was feeling towards lack of sleep had vanished and he was sitting up straight in his chair listening attentively.
There was a sounds of voices in the background getting louder, "We need boots on the ground headed that way in less than two hours." Her eyes continued to shift to the right as someone talked off to the side but the sound quality was so horrible you couldn't understand what was being said to the Secretary.
"I need a report on my desk in twenty four hours. Best of luck."
The screen flashed back to the United States seal on a blue background. The two friends looked at each other.
"Okay guys, normally this would be a team mission but since it's for observation only I'm just going to send the leads. The rest of the team will be alert and ready to provide a quick response if needed. McCall and Stilinski get some food and do whatever else you need to before heading out."
"Yes sir" they both echoed. The chairs being pushed back caused Scotts had to start going towards his ears, Stiles knew that this meant he had probably used his werewolf hearing to listen to something. Stiles opened his mouth to ask but Scott shook his head and mouthed not here. Both of them left the room and headed towards the canteen to get some food.
"So are you going to tell me why you felt the need to use those adorable doggy ears of yours?" the corner of Stiles' mouth twitched up.
Scott was so used to the dog comments that he didn't even register, his mind was far off and Stiles could tell so he cleared his throat.
"Oh yeah. Umm...we can just talk about this once we leave." Stiles was going to argue but Scott gave him a look stopping him in his tracks.
It didn't take long for both boys to grab some food and MRE's just in case something went wrong. They loaded up the little bit of surveillance gear they had into the rover and pulled out of the base and turned down the deserted road.
"Okay what was that back-"
"Something isn't right Stiles. I could hear voices in the background. There is something a lot bigger than a simple surveillance rescue mission."
AN: So here was have it, this is going to be AU with mild OOC. This is more centered around Scott and Stiles for now, but this is one of those story ideas I just couldn't shake. So I hope you like it, constructive criticism is welcome. If you have comments or questions I respond to reviews as much as I can. As always, thanks for reading!