Vincent stood squared off, with Shane, both with guns trained on each other. Eryn, a fellow rookie, lay in a crumpled heap, her already red hair darkened by the crimson flooding through the strands. Vincent's eyes lowered. "So, it was you? You're the traitor?"

Shane smirked. "I could say the same about you."

"You just shot my team-mate." Vincent growled. "She was innocent, and you killed her."

"She was acting far too suspicious. How could I not suspect her?"

"If you're not the traitor then you can't just go around – AHH!" Vincent went down with a red splatter in his back, right between the shoulder blades.

Shane spun his gun around to the balcony, shooting up at their attacker. The bullet whizzed right by Terry's ear, as he flattened himself behind the pillar, and Shane ducked for cover. He looked out at his room mate, laying limp on the ground, a red stain spreading out along his shirt. "Dammit, Terry. I knew it was you."

Terry chuckled to himself. "You had no clue." He ducked down below the railing, circling around for a better shot. Shane continued to shout back at Terry, but he knew if he retaliated, then he would know he was moving. Once around the other side, Terry lined up his shot along the edge of the railing and took aim. He had to sweep his long blonde strands out of his eyes, to get a better view and POW! Nailed the loud-mouthed rookie right in the gut.

Shane gagged on the pain, doubled over and died - very dramatically.

"Congratulations, the terrorist won!" Roxanne, one of the senior Turks stated, as she walked into the room, clapping sarcastically.

"Woohoo!" Terry called, leaping over the banister, and falling down to the ground with a loud thud.

"Ow." Vincent groaned, trying to push himself up, despite the protest in his sore shoulders. "Couldn't have aimed somewhere else, Terry?"

Terry shrugged. "I'm not supposed to be sympathetic to my victims."

"You were innocent?" Eryn scolded Shane, holding a hand to the red spot, in her hair. "You're a dick, Shane. That hurt like hell."

"Hey, you were the one acting suspicious."

"I was consulting with Vincent; making sure he was on my side."

"How was I supposed to know?"

"How about thinking before you shoot, Shane." Roxxanne scolded him as well. She was one of the senior members in charge of mentoring Shane, along with her partner, Neil. (Who was currently out on a solo mission to escort the vice president to a meeting.) Ren, Strike, and a few other mentors were joining them.

They had apparently decided to ban together in the training of their rookie charges, through a series of exercises that seemed a lot like games. The object of this exercise was to be able to strategize and sniff out a traitor. The five of them were split off into two teams, innocent, and traitor. The traitor could be one or two people, trying to kill the innocent before being detected, or killed themselves. They typically trained with air powered hand guns, with paint pellets. Not deadly, but they hurt like hell. The traitors would know who their allies were, while the innocent remained in the dark, trying to figure out who the traitors are and convince their comrades they were on their side. Obviously, the objective went over some of their heads.

Strike looked angrily towards Shane. Even though he wasn't Shane's mentor, he still had full authority to scold his little brother. Which he took advantage of, snagging his shoulder. "You need to take this seriously. If you're not the traitor, your tactic shouldn't be to kill everybody to figure out who is."

"Hey, I usually get him, don't I."

"No, all you're doing is helping your enemy. Take this seriously, or we'll have you discharged." Strike growled at him, shoving Shane away.

Shane rubbed his sore shoulder. "Damn, lighten up."

"We're supposed to be training." Vincent commented, stepping up next to him. "You have to know how to build up trust among your allies. If you can't rely on your friends, who can you trust?"

Shane rubbed at the impending bruise, on his stomach, his face darkening a bit. "Yea, I get it. I'm just having a hard time really getting into this kind of sleuthing."

"Well, it's part of the job." Ren stated plainly, holding out the hat for their next round. "Get used to it." Their names were on the back of each slip of paper, for their designated role. Once they had their assignments, both returned their names to the hat.

"Alright, last round today. You get five minutes to assume your positions." Ren called, as the three seniors filed out to the observation deck.

Vincent clapped his friend, on the shoulder. "Just try to remain open, while still keeping your guard up, until you know who you can trust." Shane turned his eyes to the ground, looking an odd mixture of frustrated and embarrassed. "Yea, sure. I'll just do that."

Vincent sighed, squeezing his shoulder. "You'll get it."

There was a small wash station to get the excess paint off his shirt, and they headed over towards it. Shane scoffed. "Or I'll get discharged again."

"Come on now, don't think like that. You have to stay positive." Shane had been admitted to the Turks twice before, but had been discharged during training. He just never seemed to get the hang of the subtle nuance of being a Turk, but they let him back in... that had to say something. "Well, look at it this way." The two set to work cleaning off the excess paint. "You can't get kicked out again." Clear signs of Vincent spending far too much time with Shane emerged as he flashed him a smirking puppy dog pout. "I'll miss you too much."

At least that got Shane to laugh. "Yea, what would you do without me?" He chimed, smacking Vincent on the back, right on the large welt, from the last round. Vincent cringed, falling over the wash-bin.

Shane winced in sympathy. "Oops."

"Yes." Vincent turned a scathing look up at him. "What would I ever do without you?"

xXx

After they had cleaned up, the six rookies spread out along the training area. It was one of three large training areas set up over fifty square feet, with four levels to explore. They'd been through this arena many times, and knew almost every nook to hide in.

Vincent settled into a small room on the third level, crouching into a corner. He was a traitor, this round, and his allie was Galadriel Reinhart. She was a short statured girl with a dark-brown pixy haircut. Gal did, at times, seem a bit slow on the uptake, but she was very good at surprising people. She was also the first of Shane's victims last session. Vincent had only been the traitor twice before, and never got much contact with her. He had to find her, confirm their alliance, and start to take out the others without getting their attention. This was gonna be an interesting round.

The bell rang to signify the start of the round, but Vincent waited. He never liked to just run out into the open, even when he was innocent. Soon, however, Shane ran into his room, and found him. Vincent instantly, got to his feet, holding his gun on him. "Don't you dare shoot me."

"Are you innocent?"

"What do you think?"

Shane scoffed, lowering his gun a bit. "Man, I'm no good at this. Why does it always come to us nearly shooting each other?"

"Because you always seek me out."

Shane nodded his head in agreement. "Yea, can't deny that one."

Vincent could just go ahead and kill him so easily, but he didn't want to tip his hand that soon. He didn't hear anybody nearby, but that didn't mean anything. Plus, there was something that had occurred to him a few rounds back. Shane had never been the terrorist, and Vincent was thinking there was a reason for this. Their seniors may want to keep Shane innocent until he got the hang of this exercise. Who was he to deny his friend a valuable learning experience. He also knew that Shane never expected him of being the traitor. "I'm going to leave." Vincent started slowly moving towards the door. "Don't you dare shoot me."

"Aw, but it's fun."

Vincent smirked. "If you shoot me, you don't get to play my Atari."

"Aw, bitch."

"I mean it. Find another victim." Vincent slid out the room, and made his way down the hall. He was pretty good at inspecting his surroundings before going out into anywhere he could possibly get hit. He managed to make it onto the second level without seeing anyone.

"What're you sneaking around for, Valentine?"

Vincent spun around, turning his gun on Terry. It wasn't uncommon for someone to be a traitor twice in a row. So, if Vincent was innocent, he could still suspect Terry of being a traitor. "Just trying to make sure you don't shoot me in the back again."

"You should stop turning your back on me then."

Vincent had to nod to that one. "I probably should. It's not good practice. A man could easily get killed with that-"

They heard a soft pew and Terry screamed as his ear exploded in a mass of red paint. "Ow, shit!" His hand snapped to his ear, falling against the wall.

"Ooh." Vincent flung himself against the wall, trying to take cover. "Are you alright, Terry?"

"God, that fucking hurt!"

There was a small laughter coming from somewhere off in the distance. "I am so sorry." Although, that didn't stop her from laughing. It was one of those things that was just so bad you just couldn't help but laugh at it.

Vincent calmed down slightly. It was Galadriel. At least he knew he wasn't going to get shot. "Maybe you should sit this one out." Typically, when shot, you were supposed to just lay there, and be dead, but this might need some tending to.

"Fuck. I'm already dead." Terry started out towards the door, calling out to everyone that he was dead, and not to shoot him.

Vincent sighed. "Man, Galadriel. Did you have to hit him in the ear?" He was mainly talking to the air, since she was hiding somewhere sniping.

"It was an accident."

"Well, just watch out from now on. You could deafen someone like that."

"Sorry." She was still having some trouble stopping her giggles.

Vincent rolled his eyes and proceeded through the arena. After a short time he discovered Eryn and Omid were in one of the smaller rooms. Evidently, they had decided they both were trustworthy, and joined forces. There was another entrance out of the room, and they were both facing away from him. Omid turned around, making Vincent duck back behind the corner. Omid's dark eyes scanned the area. "You hear something?"

"No, did you?"

"I think so. Let me check it out."

Vincent's eyes narrowed, backing up to take cover behind a nitch, in the wall. He could hear the footsteps coming around the corner, pressing himself flat against the wall. Omid was probably using his gun to scan the area. "All clear." His footsteps tapped against the floor, turning around to head back. Now was best. Vincent whipped out the side and shot Omid in the arm. He grunted, his hand snapping to the red stain, and fell against the wall. "It's V-" Before he could alert his current partner, Vincent nailed him again, in the chest. He couldn't rat him out, if he was dead. Omid seemed to realize this, with his exclamation of annoyance.

Not waiting for Eryn to find out who killed him, Vincent spun around and ran. He found shelter in a small offshoot, a few corridors away; Eryn ran right past.

Soon, there was a light sound of an air gun going off, somewhere off in the distance. He couldn't get a confirmed hit on anyone, from this location. That shot could have hit or missed. No telling who fired it.

After a short while, Vincent swept from the room, and through the halls. He had to get a more defensible position.

"I took out your little helper."

Vincent froze, hearing Shane's voice coming out of somewhere. He looked around and found him on a balcony above him, aiming right for him. They both stood, guns trained on each other, as he walked around the low slope to get to his level. "So, it was you, all along."

Vincent mustered up an evil smirk. "So it seems."

"I thought you were my friend. How could you betray me?"

Vincent was trying very hard not to laugh. His friend did have a flair for the dramatics. "You've just annoyed me too many times."

"Ouch. So, what now? Are you just gonna shoot me?"

Vincent cocked his gun. "Yea, I just might. GAH!" He felt a bullet nail him in the lower back, knocking him to his knees. Vincent reached a hand onto the red splotch. "Ahh, in the back, again." He felt the barrel of one of the guns press against his head, and glanced up to see Eryn. She smiled down at him. "Bang. You're dead."

Vincent huffed, sitting on the ground.

"Alright!" Shane cried, as the two victors high-fived.

"We won!"

A bell rang the end of the round. The other two filed out; Omid sporting two bright red patches, and Galadriel had a spot in the center of her chest. She smiled at Vincent, idly poking the red paint. "He got me Vinny poo."

Vincent laughed. "Yea, he did."

Strike clapped Shane on the shoulder. "Better. See what happens when you apply yourself."

"Eh, it's too much thinking for me."

Strike smirked, ruffling his baby brother's hair. "Just keep it up. Maybe you'll make it this time." He knew it was a low blow to keep reminding him of this past issue, but he also didn't want Shane to forget that this was pretty much his last chance. Plus, it was a good motivator. Even if he wasn't his mentor, it was still his job to help his baby brother succeed. On that note. "You almost got 'em all, Vincent." Strike beamed throwing an arm around his actual charge. The impact jarred the large welts now impacting every inch of his back, and Vincent whimpered.

Strike's expression showed an almost sarcastic note of concern. "You alright?"

Vincent groaned, holding a hand to his lower bruise. "I hate being shot in the back."

Ren stepped up, laughing lightly. "I'll have to remember that, for our individual training."

"Please don't."

Ren shrugged. "It's better for you."

"Yea." Strike agreed, hauling off and whacking Vincent across the back. Unlike his brother, he fully intended for it to hurt. "Pain's a good character builder. Especially if it's somewhere you hate."

Vincent had to take a second to lodge his bugging eyes back into place. "What if I said I hate it because it's cowardice and underhanded?"

"If that's the case then we definitely need to get you used to it... cause it's gonna happen a lot." Strike beamed, pulling him into a one armed hug."

"Or at least teach you how to avoid it." Ren chimed in with a near evil smirk. "It's for your own good."

Vincent sighed miserably. How many times had he heard that one?

##

AN: So, it's like this, I have everything I intend to write out in this already in my head. (At least the important points) So, some times, when I'm writing other stories, I will mention these characters and forget that my readers don't know anything about them. With that in mind, I jumped back to this in the context of me continuing in Forgiveness and it kinda being parallel to their training. I just wanted to have the characters appearance and actions more impactful. (Also, I keep forgetting how much I love Strike and Ren.) I'll probably submit the next chapter of this, before I post forgiveness, mainly because I didn't get to showcase Omid as much as I wanted to, but this is told primarily from Vincent's perspective and Vinny didn't get too much exposure to him in this time.