Wednesday 01:00, January 24th… 5th Floor, New York City FBI Office


Annie stood in front of her new SAIC's office door, her fist hovering over the wooden door in hesitation. Her briefcase strap clenched tightly in her off-hand and a scowl resting on her face, Annie mentally prepared herself for the upcoming encounter with her new boss.

On the way up to the office, Bertholdt had warned her about their strange and often narcissistic boss.


"The best way to deal with him is to just smile and nod." He informed her, as they passed by empty offices and break rooms, "Most of the time he's a bit sharp with his words but every once in while he'll blow up into a massive shitstorm and start chewing us out. He can be a bit of a selfish hothead."


Annie was used to working under selfish hotheads. Honestly that described all of the gangsters and mob capos she was assigned to in her two years of undercover work. At least she could be reasonably sure that Agent Dok wouldn't shoot her in the back of the head. Not publicly or without a suppressed weapon anyway.

"Might as well get this over with." She whispered to herself, knocking rhythmically at Special Agent Dok's door.

"Who's there?" A scratchy male voice, muffled by the wood and frosted glass, sounded from inside.

"Special Agent Leonhardt, Sir." She answered, forcing a tone of respect into her words with ease of long practice.

The door creaked open slightly, revealing a single dark eye glaring at her suspiciously over a small chain lock. "You got your ID?"

Annie gestured to the temporary, small plastic ID card clipped to her sweater. "My badge is in my briefcase."

The door shut and she heard the telltale sounds of a lock being undone. The door was pulled open and a tall, thin man with a long angular face and short messy, black hair stood in the doorway.

"Quit wasting my time and get in here then." He ordered, turning away and walking back to his desk, "Shut the door after yourself."

The small blonde did as she was told and then handed Agent Dok a thick, brown folder filled with her service papers. He pulled the necessary papers out and laid them out across his cluttered and stained desk, grudgingly having to move old unwashed coffee mugs and push stacks of dog-eared forms out of the way. He fished out a small damaged pen and begun writing with a callous disregard for margins or lines.

Annie took the opportunity to examine her surroundings while he was distracted. Her nose crinkled as the scent of cheap unfiltered cigarettes assaulted her. The scent had taken residence in the furniture, carpet, and even the walls of the dingy office. Each surface she looked at she could see burn marks where he had stubbed cigarettes out. Papers were thrown everywhere, apparently without any attempt of organization or care, completely covering the small couch pushed against the wall; the wall itself was entirely covered by a giant cork board which was the only untouched thing in the tiny cramped room.

Wow, this office is right out of a 90's cop show. I'll bet he's got some bourbon in that desk.

Agent Dok's dark eyes briefly glanced at her, "Sit down." He grunted before retrieving a smoke from his desk and lighting it.

Annie placed her briefcase against his desk and carefully sat down on the cheap metal chair in front of his desk, fidgeting momentarily before leaning back and resting one knee over the other as she folded her arms over her chest.

Having concluded her survey of the room she directed her searching stare at Dok. The man seemed to be in his late thirties and sported a pencil thin mustache and soul patch. His FBI regulation attire was accentuated with a dark crimson bolo tie and a dark gray tailored suit vest replaced the standard black jacket. She decided that he would have been attractive if not for the cloud of tobacco smoke hanging around his head like a cancer-inducing halo. Or his status as a pariah among the FBI. Or his apparent belief in urban legends.

I wonder if he believes in ghosts too. Or Bigfoot.

She idly promised herself that this would not end up in a Scully and Mulder situation. There was enough evil in the world without adding the supernatural into the mix.

At that moment Agent Dok finished signing her papers and tossed his pen onto his desk with finality. Annie straightened up in her seat when he looked at her, attempting to at least seem eager for new assignment.

He blew out a lungful of smoke and sneered, "I didn't know the FBI had instituted casual Wednesdays."

She looked down, eyeing her navy blue turtleneck sweater, jeans, and gray boots.

"The airline lost my luggage." She confessed, once again folding her arms and glaring at him.

He simply shrugged and showed off a paper, holding it in between his fingers as it was personally offensive to him. "According to this travel voucher, you should have arrived in New York at around…" He glanced at the voucher, "1630. Giving about three hours to either rent a suit or get your luggage back."

"I missed that flight." She hissed at him, hoping that his cigarette would fall down his shirt and burn him.

Dok let out a throaty chuckle and tossed the voucher over his shoulder, "No wonder you got assigned to this case. Your attitude needs some work."

I'm going to ram that bolo tie down your fucking throat.

She discreetly pinched herself. She had to keep her anger in check.

"But hey, there's more to an agent than attitude." He said as he pulled out two more files, one labeled P.O.I. and the other C.I., from his desk drawer and placed them neatly in front of her. "And fortunately for me, there's plenty more to you than glares and sullen silences."

Annie reached out and opened the person of interest file. Inside was a mugshot of a young man with unkempt brown hair and vibrant green eyes. Even through the picture, Annie could tell that this man possessed a primal energy in life that would be a force to be reckoned with. He glared at the camera, his face frozen in a look indignant anger. Behind the picture was copy of his DD-214 form plus a copy of his criminal record. She started to quickly skim over the information.

"Eren Jaeger…" Agent Dok explained, grinding his cigarette out on his desk, "Formerly Private First Class Jaeger. Born in Manhattan, enlisted in the Marine Corps at age 18, and served honorably for five years until he crippled an Iraqi police officer in a street brawl. He was court-marshaled, given a BCD*, and thrown out of the Corps. He spent the next two years making a name for himself here in New York."

Annie continued to flip through the wealth of papers in the file, letting Dok give her a verbal summary.

"We believe that he took control of the 104th street gang, a small but feared inner city gang from the Bronx. They've been keeping under the radar for years; staying away from the drug trade and never expanding past their own territories."

"So why am I holding his file right now?" Annie asked.

"A about a year ago the 104th exploded outward, tripling their turf in three months. At least four rival gangs were attacked and crushed by them. I think Eren here was the driving factor in their sudden conquest boner." He adjusted his bolo tie and went on, "According to our CI's- Well the one that got away, anyway.- he and his crew have been making moves all around New York City and the surrounding boroughs."

"That still doesn't answer my question." She said, curiosity softening her sharp tone, "All the information in here points to him being just an unusually effective criminal. But, if that was true wouldn't a free agent be assigned the case? Or even the NYPD? Doesn't look like he crossed any state lines."

"Skipping right to the point, huh?" He chuckled again, a raspy and somewhat hollow sound that originated from the back of his throat, "Have you heard of the 'Titans'?"

"I know of them, they're a west coast gang that has been expanding in territory and membership for the past decade. Lots of rumors surrounding them." Annie replied, recalling the gossip at her old office, "The brass has been keeping most information about them under lock and key but I heard the Bureau is going to categorize them as a terrorist organization in a few weeks."

"Really? About time." Agent Dok offhandedly declared, then continued, "The 104th is currently at war with the Titans, and we found some intel that suggests that they're looking for some allies in that war. The 104th is gonna need muscle, guns, and a lot of money to fund their campaign."

"You think Eren contacted the Legion?" She asked, the question sliding from her lips dripping sarcasm.

"I don't know." He said, offhandedly lighting another cigarette, "But it's your job to find out if he does."

"Excuse me?!" She gasped, shocked.

Did I hear him correctly? He can't be planning to send me in there, can he?

"Your next assignment is to infiltrate the 104th and uncover the identity and affiliation of the 104th's benefactor." Nile Dok gave her a smug, fake smile, "Agent Hoover has already crafted a criminal record and some financial history for you. They'll stand up to a examination, don't you worry."

"Hold on." She leaned forward, lowering her voice into threatening growl, "I will not. I repeat. I will not risk my life spying on a bunch of trigger-happy gangbangers about to start a fucking war with a network of domestic terrorists just because you think that they might contact a criminal organization that doesn't exist."

"Look at it this way, Ms. Leonha-"

"Agent." She interrupted him icily.

For the first time Agent Dok looked a little more startled than annoyed. "What was that?"

She gestured to the ID badge clipped to her sweater, "Either refer to me as an agent or by my last name. It's only polite... Sir."

Nile Dok stared back into her eyes and blew out a long breath of smoke, before leaning back into his chair and resting his feet onto his ratty desk. "Fair enough... but drop the sir shit, makes me sound old."

Your voice makes you sound old.

Ok, that may have been more than a little childish.

"But I apologize. I realize that the idea of being tossed into an inner city war-zone on a hunch from an FBI fuck-up you just met sounds like bullshit." He said, "And if I were in your position, I'd say the same thing. But if you'd give me a moment, I think I'll be able to sweeten the pot."

"I don't have much choice, do I?"

"Nope. Let's look at the facts for a moment." He said, holding up his hand and raising a finger for every time he recounted a fact, "Fact: The 104th is currently at war with the Titans, an organization that dwarfs the 104th a hundred to one in all logistical aspects. Fact: The 104th will require a patron for support in order to win this war. Fact: That source would have to show itself in the ensuring war, either directly by sending soldiers or indirectly by sending guns. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

Annie nodded stiffly, "You want an inside agent to document the delivery of illegal weapons to the 104th and hopefully find a connection to the organization that sent the weapons to them thus giving you enough evidence to put both parties away for at least a dime**."

"Correct, Agent. You're quick on the uptake." Dok nodded, "So think about it this way, Agent Leonhardt. Instead of throwing you into a hot zone looking for a connection to the Legion; I'm throwing you into a hot zone looking for a connection to an unknown criminal organization. It'll be just another job."

You make it sound so easy.

"So if I uncover said connection, even if it's not the Legion." Annie continued, body language shifting into curious neutrality, "The Bureau would be forced to divert resources to your investigation, which means more funding and more agents. It would revitalize the case."

"Exactly." Dok smiled at her, a sad but genuine smile that made Annie suddenly notice the deep worry lines around his face. It became obvious to her that he was on his last legs, a long career of hunting ghosts weighing heavily on his mind.

"Ok. Assuming I agree to accept this assignment and the cover Agent Hoover created holds up." Annie said, once again turning her gaze to Eren's picture, mesmerizing the contours and planes of his face with studious attention to detail, "How would you get the brass to approve the operation?"

Nile Dok let out a bitter chuckle, "Oh, there's no fucking way they would ever sign off on a undercover operation from this office."

"Then how-?"

"Simple, you quit the FBI and work for me as a confidential informant." Nile declared with no hint of mirth before leaning back to wait for her reaction.

She made sure not to give him one. Her face remained cold and still, reminding Nile of stories about spirits birthed from ice and strife. Annie took a moment to formulate a response and then, with barely audible tremor of frigid rage, she said. "You have one minute to try and convince me. Then I'm walking out of this office and reporting you for abuse of authority and misappropriation of government funds. Go."

Nile's face blanched at her threat, he knew the brass were looking for reasons to drop him onto unpaid leave. He swallowed, pulled his mouth into his most charismatic smile, and leaned forward to open the second folder for her. "As I said before the 104th has no choice but reach out to a larger organization and if we catch them in the act we would have evidence of the existence of the Legion or evidence tying the 104th to an illegal arms deal. Either way the FBI would have to take interest into something like that. My plan to send you into the 104th as a CI instead of an undercover agent is because of two reasons. One, there is no way I will be able to convince my boss to authorize an undercover operation. And two, it would be exponentially safer for you."

"Explain." She didn't like his attitude, or his plan but so far he making sense to her.

This could be an opportunity to turn this assignment to my advantage. It's not like anyone else wants me working with them.

He nodded, "As a CI the only other agents that would know your true identity is me, Agent Hoover, and Agent Braun. Your life as Special Agent Annie Leonhardt would come to an end. Agent Hoover and I will access the FBI database and expunge all records of you from it, no one in the bureau will notice the change due to you being assigned to this case-"

Annie cut in, "Because this case is used as a dumping ground for unwanted agents."

Agent Dok flinched and took another drag of his cigarette, "Correct. Out of sight and out of mind as they say. Anyway, not only would this protect you from being exposed by outside hackers but it will also keep any corrupt agents from using the database to sniff you out. You also would not be bound by any rules or regulations which will make blending in with criminals a lot easier."

"Smart and underhanded. Your time is almost up, Special Agent." She stated, casting a glance at office's clock with carefully acted boredom.

"Right, right, right. Uh, another advantage to this plan is that we didn't have to create a false identity for you. According to your new papers you are Annie Leonhardt, twenty-six years old, and recently released from the Federal Correctional Institution in Hazelton, West Virginia. You served a three year stint for a drug based offence. Now literally everything but the prison time is accurate to your personal history so you won't have to worry about rehearsing or getting mixed up in details."

"What about my pay and future?" Annie demanded, "I'd rather be an FBI agent than a felon any day."

Dok smiled at her again, she wished he would stop, "You would receive no official pay from the FBI, instead you will receive cash from your handlers that will come from clandestine source and of course, you will be allowed to keep any earnings from your more...illicit dealings. As for your future there are two options that I see happening, all being well. If you discover evidence of the Legion then you will be reclassified as SOI* and we continue to employ you under the greatest secrecy until we bring them down, which will probably end up with promotions and raises for all of us."

"And if the Legion doesn't exist?" She asks.

"Then you will stay a CI until we have enough evidence to prosecute the 104th and their patron. After that you will be assigned to a WitSec program and you will live a happy, healthy life under a new name in some distant state. Of course, if you would like to rejoin the FBI in a few years, I'm sure Agent Hoover has enough technological know-how to make that happen."

Nile stubbed out his smoke, "So, what do you say?"

I don't have much choice in the matter.

"As much as I think this will end badly." Annie said, "It's better than spending the rest of my career spying on conspiracy theorists and eating pizza in the back of a van."

She breathed in deeply, collected her briefcase, and stood from her chair. "I'll take the assignment, Sir."

Nile nodded, sagging into his chair in relief, "Take the CI folder with you, fill out the papers, and get yourself a nice hotel to stay in. I'll be in touch in a few days when everything is ready."

Annie nodded, then turned and walked to the door. Her shoulders weighed down by a deep feeling of uncertainty and doubt, as she wondered if she had made the right decision.

"Oh, wait."

Annie looked at Dawk over her shoulder. "Yes?"

"I'm going to need your weapon and badge." He stood up and held his hand out expectantly, "You understand, right Agent?"

She hung her head, pale blue eyes shut tightly. "Understood, Sir."


Wednesday 03:40, January 24th… Wings of Freedom Bar & Tavern, The Bronx


Connie popped the top off another beer and downed half it in one huge gulp before choking on the bitter liquid and breaking off into a coughing fit.

"Connie, you are not a fish!" Sasha guffawed, her own beer stood empty at the scratched but still solid bar, "You cannot breathe in beer!"

"I challenge you to name a fish that can breathe in beer, Sasha." Connie gasped out, eyes watering from the fit.

"No, but if I discover one I-" She held up one hand over heart and threw her free arm around his shoulders, almost pulling him off his barstool. "Will name it after you, Connie!"

"And then eat it, no doubt." A harsh voice snickered from behind the bar, revealing a grinning Ymir holding a bottle of whiskey in her hand, "Though knowing Connie's hygiene habits, you'd probably get food poisoning."

"Hey, I shower everyday!" Connie declared, "I just sweat a lot, it's the Italian in me."

"Offly defensive there Connie." Ymir said, twisting open the bottle and pouring the amber liquid into three deep glasses. Ymir always seemed strange to Connie; she never said exactly what she was thinking, always wrapping her words in a prickly blanket of sarcasm.

But she's dependable and Krista adores her so she's alright in my book.

"Is Krista finished cooking dinner, Ymir?" Sasha asked hopefully.

Ymir pushed a glass into her hand and chuckled, "She'll be out in a minute, along with all the food your fat-ass can ever want!"

"And how many farms did you rob to get that food?" Connie mockingly asked, eyes wide with obviously faked astonishment, "The Tri-state area's in for a rough winter now… all those poor starving people."

Sasha recoiled from him, almost spilling her cup, and gaped at her friend with offended eyes. "Connie!"

Connie grinned at his pouting friend, sometimes he forgot how sensitive the woman was to teasing. He reached out and lightly punched her in the shoulder, "Sorry, Sasha."

"Aww, I hate it when daddy hits mommy." Ymir snickered, refusing to relent in her sarcasm.

Sasha stuck up her middle finger and gulped down her whiskey, sighing in relief as the booze burned down her throat. "Blyad! I needed that…"

"It's like cool spring rain, eh?" Connie said, then likewise sucked down his glass of whiskey. "Ahhh. Fucking refreshing as 'ell, right Ym-"

A loud bang made him jump in surprise.

Three sets of startled eyes shot towards the bar's staff door, just barely catching a glimpse of Mikasa striding up to the bar and grabbed Sasha by her arm.

"Ahh!" Sasha yelped, "What the hell?!"

"Quiet!" Mikasa snapped at her, causing Ymir and Connie to flinch nervously from Mikasa's raised voice, "Listen closely, I need you to go find Marco and bring him here. Tell him to bring medical supplies, specifically things for trauma to the ribcage. Understand?!"

Connie felt the hair on his neck stand on end, Mikasa almost never lost her cool and usually only when Eren's safety was involved.

Somethings gone really, really wrong.

"Yeah! I understand!" Sasha cried out as she disentangled herself from Mikasa's grip and jumped off her bar stool, running towards the door of the tavern.

"Ymir, I need something to drive!" She called out.

With shocking speed, Ymir reached into her back pocket, retrieved a keyring, and tossed them into Sasha's waiting hands. "Use my bike, it's faster than a car!"

Connie stood from the bar, "Mikasa, what's going on?!"

"Is Eren awake yet?" Mikasa demanded, moving past Connie and motioning for him to follow her.

"Nope, he's still sleeping off the ice." Connie reported, "I put him in the shower for safe keeping."

Mikasa shook her head then strode back through the hallway door, walking towards the garage door at the end. On both sides of the hall, pictures of the 104th members hung proudly from the oaken walls. Precious memories stared at them as Connie followed behind his lieutenant, who's stiff shoulders and gloomy facial expression only amplified his anxiety.

Fuck, Mikasa quit keeping me in the dark on this. How can I help if I ain't got a clue about what to do?

He opened his mouth to ask her, but Mikasa suddenly stopped in her tracks, spun around on her heel, and grabbed Connie by the shoulders.

"Woah!" Connie gasped as he tried, and failed, to take reactionary step away.

"Connie, I need you to promise me something." Mikasa suddenly demanded and Connie noticed that her face slipped back into it's usual unreadable expression; he thought it was a little creepy how she could do that. "Don't tell Eren that you hit Armin with the car."

"Who's Armin?" Connie asked, baffled.

"The homeless man that I ordered you to shove in the trunk." She blankly replied.

"Wait, you know him?" Connie felt a resurgence of his earlier feeling of guilt at the memory of shoving that injured man into his trunk, "How?!"

Mikasa seemed to smile slightly, "He's family. We grew up together. Eren loves him like a brother." She said, then turned abruptly and continued down the hall.

Connie stood stock still in her wake, processing the new information.

"Oh... fuck me." He whispered, horror overtaking his body, "I ran over Eren's best friend…He's gonna fucking end me."


Wednesday 03:52, January 24th… Wings of Freedom Bar & Tavern, The Bronx


"Ymir? Where is everyone?" Krista asked, holding a large steaming pot in her hands. "I thought I heard a motorcycle start up."

Ymir looked over from her seat by at one of the tavern's small wooden tables, a glass of whiskey in hand and an unlit cigarette tucked behind her ear. She waved her arm lazily to Krista, who looked confused about where the rest of the people had gone.

Krista owned, tended, and cooked for the Wings of Freedom, and even if the tavern was better classified as a large dive bar with a slight country feel to it, Krista had poured years of hard work into the establishment and was fiercely proud of it. Ymir honestly admired her "bosses" dedication, even if she lacked much drive herself.

"Ymir, please tell me where everyone went!" Krista implored, walking to Ymir's table and carefully placing the pot on a coaster to avoid burning the oaken surface. "Dinner is ready...I made Gulaschsuppe."

Ymir smiled one of her few tender smiles at Krista, then reached out and poked at a stain on Krista's 'I'm not short, I'm travel size!' cooking apron. "Some goulash soup? Sounds like the german in you is surfacing again."

"Yyymiiir!" Krista whined, "Don't change the subject!"

Ymir chuckled as she sipped from her glass, "Mikasa's in the garage with Connie, Sasha was sent to fetch Marco, and Eren is passed out in the shower."

Krista gasped, her deep sapphire eyes watering in worry, "What happened?! I thought everyone got home ok?"

Ymir quickly answered, berating herself for concerning Krista. "Relax everyone is Ok, as far as I know. No one got hurt during the job. But Mikasa seemed really upset when she came in here just now."

Maybe she finally figured out that emotions exist.

"I'm going to go see if she needs any help. Can you do me a favor and put the soup back on the stove so it doesn't get cold?"

"Fine, but only because you asked so sweetly." Ymir drawled, before standing and hoisting the pot into her hands. She was about to head to the tavern's kitchen but Krista stopped her briefly and stood on her toes to kiss Ymir on her cheek.

"Thank you, Ymir!" Krista answered, before jogging away to find Mikasa.

Ymir watched the petite blonde leave, one corner of her lip upturned and her face felt warmer than usual. That woman was too good to her, is too good for her. She truly was an angel.

Brrrrrrrrrrrt. Brrrrrrrrrrrrt.

Her phone began vibrating, only slightly muffled by the washed-out denim of her jeans. She groaned in annoyance, placing the pot back down and checked her bright green smartphone.

"Private number?" She mumbled, and hit the answer prompt, "Who the fuck is this and why are calling in the middle of the night?"

"Hello, Ymir." A quiet, clipped, and menacing voice answered. Ymir stiffened. "My apologies for interrupting your night."

Ymir glanced around the room nervously, "What do you want? How did you find me?!"

"You did not even bother to change your name, Ymir." The voice answered, chuckling lightly, "And I just wanted to make sure you were being good."

What a creepy motherfucker.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She hissed into the phone.

"A few of my men were killed today. Shot dead inside a warehouse. Good men, they followed orders well. You wouldn't know anything about that would you?"

"Not a fucking clue. And that's the truth, so you can leave me alone." Ymir answered, a grimace etched into her face, "In case you forgot, we had a deal!"

"A deal that would become void if you ever became a threat to me again…" The voice reminded her, "How are things with the 104th, Ymir?"

"No one's eating people anymore, so I guess you can say it's a step up." She hissed into the phone. "I don't know what happened to your dudes, but the 104th didn't have anything to do with it, so FUCK OFF!"

She hung up and bit down hard on her hand to distract herself, splitting the skin and forcing the taste of coppery blood to splash unto her tongue. Agitated, her eyes darted to the doors and windows searching for any eavesdroppers.

"Fucking goddamn shitdumpster..." She whispered to herself, frustration setting into her mind, "We had a deal."

Ymir snorted and with a vicious grunt, kicked a chair unto it's side. Oh why did Eren have to go and start shit with the Titans? He should have started small and taken on the US government.


Wednesday 03:23, January 24th… 12th Floor, Brown Brothers Money Management Office


"Engaging."

A flat coughing sound permeated through the air, followed by the sharp clangs of spent brass hitting the wooden floors. A short second later, a loud thump echoed from down the dark hall as the body collapsed, a neat hole oozing where the bullet had torn through the back of his neck and burst from in between his eyes.

The dead man collapsed to the floor with a hard thump, his blood pooling with coffee he had just been enjoying.

Levi lowered his AS Val rifle, bringing his offhand to his headset, "Contact neutralized. Blue team is clear to breach."

A whispered soft voice sounded from the headset, "Roger captain."

Gunther moved past him to the boardroom door, S12 semi-automatic shotgun gripped firmly in ready position. Behind him walked Eld, an MP5SD hanging from it's one-point sling and an oddly-shaped grenade in his hands. The pair took cover on both sides of the doorway, before nodding to each other and swiftly taking action. Gunther delivered a heavy kick to the door's lock, forcing it open and leaving it swinging on one hinge just as Eld threw the grenade into the room.

A shout of alarm was heard but was overshadowed by a muffled bang from the hand-held explosive. Cries of pain and shock reached Levi's ears as the 'fizzler' did it's job. Hundreds of tiny platinum spines coated in sulfuric acid embedded themselves into the bodies of their enemies, tearing and burning through clothing, flesh, and bone; foul-smelling smoke wafting from their rapidly expanding wounds. Gunther and Eld moved in, calmly silencing anyone still alive inside the room with quick shots to the head.

"Room one clear, no contact with titans yet." Eld reported.

Levi acknowledged him with a clipped "Roger", before walking to the open window that they had entered the building from, "Blue team, sweep and secure this floor. I'm going to rejoin red team."

He brazenly stuck his head out the window, coming face to face with the only other person shorter than him in the squad. Petra was causally hanging by the side of the building, a thin wire attached to a winch on her hip was the only thing keeping her from plummeting to her death on the streets below.

The squad had been dropped off by helicopter (disguised as a police chopper) to the small skyscraper's roof before rappelling down to the twelfth floor, which blue team was tasked with securing. Red team, consisting of Petra and Oluo, had been waiting for Levi to reappear so they could assault the eleventh floor.

"Your line, Captain." Petra said, holding a complex carabiner out for him.

He thanked her and clipped the line to his own winch before hopping out into the empty darkness. Levi naturally righted himself and planted his feet against the steel wall. "Red team with me." He ordered, as he disengaged the winch and pushed off the wall.

A brief sense of weightlessness enveloped him as his body adjusted to the momentary silent freefall, his mind sensing that Petra and Oluo had imitated him perfectly. His senses heightened as adrenaline seared through his system, the sounds of thunder and the feel of rain pattering on his black waterproof clothing seemed almost musical to him.

The sense of freedom lasted less than second before the three commandos re-engaged their winches, soundlessly landing above the eleventh floor windows.

"Red two, you're on overwatch. Keep the hallway clear." Levi barked.

"Roger, boss." Oluo replied before twisting in his harness so he hung upside down, boots to the wall and only the top of his head and barrel of his VSS sniper rifle visible in the window. "I got clear sight lines. No contacts."

"Red one, open the window then shadow me."

Petra grappled lower and silently pulled the window wide open. "Window clear."

Levi briefly disengaged the winch, giving him enough slack to swing through the open window. He touched down heavily, the carpet muffling the sound of his landing. He immediately unclipped the carabiner and slipped into cover behind a water-cooler.

Soft grunting heralded Petra's appearance as she also swung through the window and crouched behind Levi, softly resting her offhand on his right shoulder to covertly inform him of her position.

Together the duo advanced down the hallway, systematically breaching into rooms and searching them for enemies. Each room proved empty, much to Levi's disappointment.

Suddenly his headset beeped, and Levi quickly responded, "You should be done by now, blue one."

"Sorry Captain." Eld said, sounding a little out of breath, "We found and secured the package. Blue two is mopping up. Orders?"

"Extract to the roof and wait for Longsword to contact you." Levi ordered, "Red team and I have finished clearing this floor. Meet up with you in a few minutes."

"Understood."

Petra, also having heard everything through her own headset, simply nodded at Levi and waited for him to give an order.

"Contact, end of the hall." Oluo reported.

Petra reached out and grabbed Levi by the arm and pulled him into an empty room, just as the elevator at the end of hall pinged and opened it's doors. Levi watched them from the crack in the doorway.

Four men walked out, each dressed in dirty business shirts and slacks, clutching high caliber handguns and long knives in their hands. Their eyes bulged out their sockets like frogs, bloodshot and twitching. Each one seemed to almost vibrate with nervous, violent energy as they shoved each other out their way.

Disgusting.

"Shit." Levi whispered, "Titans. Looks like these haven't fully changed yet. Probably D-classes."

"Someone must have raised the alarm." Petra breathed, standing over Levi's crouched form to also get a look, "They must be backup."

Levi nodded then activated his headset, "Red two, wait until they pass our position. Then engage."

"Piece of cake, boss."

Levi backed away from the door, gently pulling Petra with him. She looked up at him, honey-colored eyes and hair hidden behind a black balaclava and goggles.

"What's the plan?" She asked him.

"We wait until red two engages the Titans, then we attack the survivors from behind using CQC." He replied, as he slung his rifle across his back, drew a suppressed M1911A1, and unsheathed his kukri. Levi examined the broad-bladed knife affectionately; all of his squad carried these, as it was difficult to destroy a titan's nape with a standard combat knife.

"Captain, maybe we shouldn't get within grabbing distance to them." Petra said, pointing to her MP5SD. "It would be smarter to engage from a distance."

"Tch. Are that unconfident about your fighting skills?" Levi asked, the dry standoffishness manifesting in his manner again. "What's the point of all those hours we spent sparring if you can't kill a few freaks?"

Petra seemed to bristle at this, "Fine, but if I die I'm haunting you!" She warned him, then secured her submachine gun and prepared her own CQC weapons.

Oluo's voice whispered through their headsets, "About to engage. Get ready boys and girls!"

Petra and Levi waited for a second, the only sound meeting their ears was the crashing of thunder outside the windows. And the loud ramblings of the incoming quasi-titans.

"D'ose boys shouldn'ta have blocked the elevator door, we suppose to 'elp them out but now we stuck walking up stairs an' shit just to get there." One complained, using his knife to scratch at an itch.

"Why we got called for anyway?!" Another rasped out.

"They's dead." The leader answered with a voice full of clicks and warbles, "Or they's gonna be soon if it's another false alarm!"

"At least we got some lunch waiting for us downstairs!" A fourth giggled obscenely, "And some good meat too!"

"SHUT UP!" The leader snarled, "Focus on the jo-"

Boom!

The sound the storm thundered through the open window just as the leader's neck burst open in a shower of hot blood. A look of shock appeared briefly on his distorted face until gravity pulled his head off, the tendons of his neck snapping under the weight of his over-sized cranium.

Oluo had timed his shot perfectly so thunderclap concealed the gunshot. Levi felt a little impressed by the older soldier's craftiness.

"Ha! Clackler's fucking neck exploded!" The giggling titan shouted, the corners of his lips pulled up unnaturally high.

"What the fuck?!" The rasping titan swore, turning a strange shade of pale white, like a pool of milk that had begun to grow mold. "What happened?"

The leader's headless body took a few more heavy steps before collapsing to the carpet, twitching and convulsing.

POP!

Oluo fired again and this time the first titan took the subsonic round for his throat, a loud gurgling greeted Levi's ears as the titan died slumped against the wall.

He nodded at Petra and together the two burst through the door and charged the astounded quasi-titans.

"THAT WAS MINE!" The giggler screamed, as Petra's kukri sliced off his gun hand.

Levi ducked low to avoid the rasping titan's panicked attack and stuck his pistol into his opponent's stomach, pulling the trigger in a rapid succession. Four rounds tore out the titan's back, stunning it long enough for Levi to deliver a forceful kick to it's knee, forcing it to the ground.

"Quick little fuck, ain't ya?" It coughed mockingly at him, "I'm gonna catch you and cook you boy!"

It lunged at him but Levi jumped and rolled out of the it's way. Regaining his stance, Levi raised his pistol again and fired. The .45 caliber hollow point hit the rasping titan in his mouth, smashing through his teeth before flowering out and shredding the back of his head.

"Tch. Can't eat what you can't kill, boy." He said, and speared its throat through with his kukri.

The rasping titan conversed on the ground, spitting up the shards of shattered teeth and bone, before lying still.

"That was cold, boss." Oluo remarked, "But red one has got you beat in style points."

Levi had to agree with him as he watched Petra perform a perfect high kick, the edge of her boot slamming into the towering titan's chin, crushing the jaw into jellied mass of bone muscle. Yet the titan refused to stop laughing, it's earlier giggles breaking into deep, guttural croaks.

The engagement had lasted only a few seconds and three quasi-titans lay dead on the floor and a fourth was staggering, missing a hand and leaking copious amounts of blood onto the floor.

It swung it's knife at her in last ditch attempt at victory. Levi watched as Petra grabbed and twisted the laughing titan's arm, forcing it to drop it's blade, and then shoved her kukri through it's neck.

The laughing finally stopped as she jerked the knife out of its neck and kicked the twitching body to the carpet.

Levi slid his kukri back into its sheath and drew a fresh magazine for his sidearm, "Well done, you've gotten better."

Petra flicked the knife to clean it of dark blood, and Levi felt his eye twitch as the chunky fluid spattered onto the wall behind her.

"That was fun and all but can we just shoot them next time?" Petra asked him.

"Package has been secured. Blue team is waiting for extraction." Eld informed the team, "Longsword is on his way. ETA three minutes."

"We're on our way." Levi replied, "Let's move."

Levi and Petra ran back to the window where Oluo waited for them, holding their carabiners out for them.

They silently hooked themselves up and one by one they walked off the windowsill into the rain and wind.

A slight whirl, muffled by the storm, greeted Levi's ears as he engaged his winch and shot up into the sky. The sensation of wind and rain streaming past his body, pulling at his clothes and gear, Levi let himself relax slightly.

The trip ended too quickly for his liking, as he pulled himself onto the rooftop then turned to help Oluo and Petra up as well.

"Captain, Longsword's here. Looks like he put a move on." Gunther joked from where he leaned against an industrial air conditioner.

"Where's the package?" Petra asked.

Gunther pointed to his left. A skinny looking man wearing a fur lined leather jacket lay on the soaked floor with his hands zip tied behind his back and a sock stuffed into his mouth.

"Who's sock is that?" She inquired, stifling a giggle.

"It was in a giant pile of dirty laundry, shoved into a corner of an office." Gunther said, "Looks like they were living down here for a few weeks."

"I wonder why?" Petra wondered, she turned and walked up to Levi, "Captain, did the Commander offer a reason for this raid?"

Levi shook his head, "The Commander loves his operational secrecy."

Petra's response was cut off as the sound of helicopter blades filled their ears. Levi watched as a MH-60G "Pave Hawk" helicopter circled the roof, waiting for their signal.

"Time to go home, Captain." Petra had to yell to be heard over the helicopter but Levi could still detect the happiness in her voice.

Home. Levi loved that concept.


Revised 10/25/2017

BCD*- Bad Conduct Discharge

Dime**- Slang term for a ten year prison sentence

SOI*- Source of Information

Disclaimer: I do not own Attack on Titan or it's characters. Nor do I own anything in New York City. I also do not own anything related to the X-files.

Hello again, lovely reader and thank you for taking the time to read my fanfic. I apologize for the long delay between chapters, I unfortunately was unable to write for an extended period due to lacking internet and I am currently scrambling to find a new line of work after a 10 minute doctor's visit destroyed any hope of me following my original career choice. Anyway, here's chp 2 and I hope you enjoyed it. Chapter three is going to take a while unfortunately, and I apologize in advance for that.

Thank you again for reading and please leave a comment, critique, or other review if you can; it genuinely brightens my day when I see people taking an interest.

Ilikecartoonsandzombies & Some Randy: I hope this chapter was worth the wait, my dudes and/or dudettes.