AN:

Writer's block is a bitch.

Translations at the end.

Chapter title from; Counting Bodies Like Sheep to the Rhythm of the War Drums by A Perfect Circle.

Nothing!

Absolutely nothing!

A whole day spent scouring a Federation base and Keegan and I found nothing.

The intel was good, we were able to confirm that the Federation was here within the last few months but that was all we could find.

There was no computers or files to look through. No communication centers to hack into. Just some random trash, the flag of the Federation in almost every room and a partially stripped truck.

There was nothing here to really tell that Logan had been here...well almost nothing.

"Found the pit out in the jungle," Keegan said as he walked in. I looked up from the object in my hand to look at him.

"Anything in there?" I ask.

"Nothing you wouldn't expect to find in a jungle pit," He replied.

"So nothing then?"

"Yep," Keegan said. He looked at the thing I was still turning over in my hand. "Are you sure that's his?"

I toss the thing in my hand like it disgusts me, which in a way it does, at him. Keegan catches it and starts to look it over. I know what he's looking at, I looked at it long enough.

It's Logan's dog tags.

I found them hanging from a knife stuck to the wall in what I guessed to be the command center. At first I thought they might be a remake that Rorke created to taunt us, but the wear on them was too close to what Logan's would have looked like. That was my first tell that they real the second was the fact instead the standard two tags there was three, just like Hesh's set.

Two belonged to Logan and read;

Walker, Logan A.

2001202775

O+

None

It was the third that was interesting. It was Elias.' It read his information as well;

Walker, Elias T.

1976282027

O+

None

Elias' sons had each taken one of his tags to carry with them after he died.

All that aside it was the engraving on the backs of the tags that really sold me that they were real and judging by the look on Keegan's face he was coming to the same conclusion.

The back of Elias' tag read; 'We rise.' Something he had gotten after we lost Rorke originally.

The back of one of Logan's tags read; 'For those who have fallen' and the other read 'Or join them'

{Signal Lost … Enrique Coelho… Location USM holding cell}

{Reacquiring signal…Designation: REAPER…}

The jungles of South America were once a sight to behold. A wide variety of plants and animals inhabited them and co-existed to make a vast interdependent ecosystem. Then what always happens to something beautiful occurred.

Man.

Man cleared and killed so they could survive and when they could survive they kept expanding. Growth can be good for some, it was certainly good for the Federation, but for others it can be a death sentence.

The Sons of Revolution is part of the latter group.

The Sons of Revolution was a small group that had risen up a few years prior. They mostly helped the war-torn towns and villages that the Federation didn't have the time or resources for. That was fine for a while but recently they had started to cause problems; disrupting supply lines, stealing vehicles and causing small revolts. They had been warned once to behave and failed to heed that warning.

Reaper's mission was to remind them what happened to those that ignored the Federation.

He had been observing their sole base for the last three days. He knew who patrolled where, the routes they took and where the leaders slept. Nothing ever changed to the point it was a near constant repeat, they were set up for a slaughter.

He absentmindly checked the tablet in his hands. Reviewing the plan and orders he had been given. He was to eliminate everyone in the building and leave a firm message for them to behave. The mission parameters were loose to be handled at his digression. The only order he was to follow was to not be identified. Stowing the tablet in a nook in the tree, he checked that the time. With only a few hours to sunrise Reaper knew it was time to move.

Begin operation.

Reaper swung his leg over the branch he was sitting on, shifted his weight forward and off the branch. He landed silently and took off in a sprint towards the back corner of the base. He paused at the large tree that grew at alongside the fence before quickly climbed up the tree. He jumped out of the tree landing in a roll. As rolled he brought his rifle up to scan the area for any signs of life. It was clear but he had to hurry. The next patrol would pass through here in the next two minutes.

Stealth must be kept for mission to succeed.

Objective one: disable the surveillance room.

Reaper dashed forward and pressed his back against the building. In the pre-dawn light he was hard to see in his dark clothing but not impossible. He moved along the wall until he came to a door. Reaper put his ear to the door and listened. When he was sure that there was no one was on the other side he opened the door quietly and stepped in.

He mentally recalled what he knew about the layout of the building. He had a pretty good idea of the layout as he had been in here two days ago.

The Sons had let him into the base two days ago as part of a recruitment tour. It had been easy to falsify papers to make it look like he was some bright-eyed kid looking to protect his home. It had been easier still to gather all the information he need for the layout. All he had to do was ask and they were more than happy to give.

He could have killed everyone then if he had been careful but he was ordered to wait and observe. Reaper knew the cost of disobedience too well. He almost absentmindly rolled his shoulders remembering the burn scar on his shoulder.

He continued to prowl down the halls. There wasn't many people here tonight, most everyone was in the local village enjoying themselves as part of some local festival. However one of the Sons leaders had stayed behind with enough bodies to send a message.

He found a door to the stairs and entered the dark stairwell to find it empty. Reaper climbed up to the third floor and listened for any sound on the other side of door before walked out. He found the door to the security room a little ways down the hallway. He stood outside the door and reaching for his pistol but as he reached for the gun the door opened. There was nowhere for him to hide so the man walking out got a full look at him.

Reaper recognized the man as the guide from the tour and unfortunately he recognized Reaper too.

"Felix?" the other man asked confused. Reaper tackled the man without him being able to say another word. The other man in the room started to turn around to investigate the noise when Reaper was drawing his pistol out.

The other man had a chance to say "What is…," before Reaper fired two quiet shots into his skull.

The man Reaper had tackled came out of the daze he had gained from his head being slammed against the ground during the tackle. "Felix," he said looking up at Reaper after he had fired his pistol, "What are you doing!"

Reaper placed the barrel against his head and fired one bullet. When the little bit of noise fell to silence he waited. When there was no sound of movement coming his way he almost breathed a sigh of relief. Reaper dragged the first man's body into the room and shut the door.

The mission has not been compromised.

As Reaper waited again to make sure that no one was coming he looked over the bodies, thoroughly looking the tour guide over. He had recognized Reaper, but how? The man had called him 'Felix' the name that Reaper felt was his real name. The Federation used it as a cover enough times. 'Felix' was a name for whatever task was needed of him; a janitor, security guard, babysitter….

Reaper wondered where those kids ended up. They had relatively well behaved for children and horribly ease to kidnap.

Refocus. Mission still in progress.

Reaper shook his head to get his thoughts in order and felt something move on his neck. He reached up and felt his half-mask sitting there.

He had forgotten it.

That's how the tour guide had recognized him. He remembered Reaper's face.

Reaper was to remain anonymous, he was to be a something in the dark that people feared. At least the man was dead now and could tell no one what Reaper looked like, but Rorke would have to be told of his failure Rorke would be angry with him and the punishment…would be severe. He pushed the slight shake that passed through is body away, right now there was a mission to finish.

Reaper walked over to the console and deactivated the security system.

Objective two: sweep and clear

As he left the room he made sure that his mask was firmly in place. From there it is a fairly standard mission. The roof, third and second floors were mostly empty. Everyone he did find was asleep. Reaper remained undetected as he moved floor to floor, until one small hang up. The body Reaper threw his knife into the back of tumbled over the railing above the ground floor, landing on the roof of the vehicle below. The thud was loud and caught the attention of the Sons milling about and the guards standing by the leaders' doors.

"Abrir fogo!" Someone shouts. Reaper knew he'd been spotted. The bullets start to ricochet around him. Seeing no other immediate option to get himself out of the way of gunfire, Reaper vaulted over the opposite side of the railing and landed on the cab of a nearby truck. He hopped off the truck as the shooters adjusted their aim.

Clicking the safety of his rifle off Reaper sprinted towards a support pillar. He blind fired as he ran and over the sound of gunfire he could hear a few of the Sons fall. Rorke had trained him to be proficient with shots in any situation

Sticking his back to the pillar as a form of protection, Reaper tried several times to peek around the pillar and fire off a couple of rounds but every time he tried the Sons would fire at him.

Tactical judgement error. Never abandon the high ground. No matter the situation.

Complete mission at any cost. It matters more than this asset does.

Reaper crouched down, secured his rifle and took out his two pistols, taking the silencer off the first one. He checked the clips, both full, and stood backup. Reaper closed his eyes and cleared his mind as he breathed out.

Silence in chaos.

In one fluid movement Reaper stepped out and began firing at his opposition. He walked forward, aiming his shots dead on and dropping his targets. The last thing on his mind was the fact that they were firing at him. He never cared for his personal wellbeing, the mission came first. Rorke had trained him as such.

"Demônio!" Reaper heard someone shout. He fired in that direction and heard another body 'thump' to the ground.

Demônio. He had been called that one many times. Along with diablo, desgraçado and monstro. The names never bothered him though. He was what the Federation needed him to be and right now Reaper was useful.

Reaper came back to the present after his internal thought process to find everyone dead. Stepping around the bodies he made his way towards the leader's quarters. He noticed the slight sway in his step and looked down to see the injuries he had acquired. His body armor had taken most of the bullets but some had made it through. The areas not covered with armor were full of grazes and holes that would need stitches later. With the battle damage and blood on his body he looked every bit the demônio that they claimed Reaper was.

At the door he dropped his now empty pistols and kicked the door in. There were two shouts as the door flew open. One more masculine, his main target, and the other more feminine, causality of man's desire.

The man was standing in the middle of the rooms with his hands up and the woman was to Reaper's left, back pressed against the wall. Both of them looked to be a little older than Reaper himself, at least he thought, and in various stages of undress.

The man, Paulo remembered Reaper, had on only a pair of hastily thrown on pants and the woman was in a large shirt that probably wasn't her own and not much else.

"Hey man," Paulo said breaking the silence with accented English, "You're with the Federation right?" Reaper just blinked at him. "Look man I didn't want to cause any trouble. It was all Xavier's idea."

Reaper took a step closer and pulled a knife from his hip and held it in his right hand.

"Porra," the woman cursed.

"Quiet Zita. So man how about we just put the weapons away and talk like gentlemen?" Paulo asked. Reaper spun the knife around his fingers as he took another step closer.

Paulo took a step back. "I can get you anything you want; money, freedom from the Federation, I have contacts with the Americans they can get you to safety... or I can get you some alone time with Zita maybe?"

"Hey!" Zita exclaimed.

"Shut up!" Paulo snapped back," I just...I don't want to die. I got family." Reaper just kept walking forward.

None of this was new information to Reaper. The Sons had long been expected to be working with the United States. As for the family Paulo had his aging parents and one sister.

"Wait wait wait! Before anything happens I have to ask something. You're that Reaper guy right, the Federation's attack dog?" Paulo asked. Reaper paused still spinning the knife in his hand and tilted his head to the side. He watched as Paulo's shoulders sagged and he muttered," Foda-se Xavier. Eu vou assombrá-lo para o resto de seus dias."

"Paulo?" Zita questioned.

Paulo looked between Zita and Reaper twice before speaking, "Just let the girl go. She has nothing to do with any of this."

Reaper looked over at the woman. She was still pressed against the wall visibly shaking now. "Please as a last request?" Paulo begged

By this time Reaper has made it to Paulo. He brought his free hand up and wrapped his fingers around the other man's neck. "Please let her go?" Paulo begged one last time.

Reaper twisted to his left and threw the knife. It sailed through the air and into the neck of Zita who had been slowly creeping forward to try and help Paulo while Reaper wasn't really paying attention to her. Both men watched as she stumbled back, hand flying to her neck. There was a soft gurgle that escaped her as he slid down the wall. Her hands fell to her side as the rest of her stilled.

Reaper turned his attention back to Paulo. The man had tears forming in the corners of his eyes when Paulo looked back at Reaper defeated. Reaper knew that this was a man who had come to realize that he wasn't going to survive the day.

"I guess that settles that," Paulo sniffed. Reaper shoved Paulo in the direction of the door and marched him out.

"Oh god," Paulo whispered as they walked through the bodies towards the door to the outside. Reaper had to hold the man up as they walked to prevent him from stumbling over the bodies and the slick floor. They stopped only once for Reaper to pick up a pistol off the ground.

Once out a side door Reaper pushed Paulo to the large bay doors that led to the base. When they stopped walking Paulo sank to his knees and put his hands behind his head but kept looking Reaper in the eye. There was a last pleading look there. Before Reaper was a man who had no bargaining chip to cash in and he knew it. All Paulo could do was hope that Reaper wasn't person that would kill in cold blood. Unfortunately Reaper was much worse.

Reaper placed the barrel of his borrowed pistol against the other man's temple and put his finger on the trigger. Reaper paused when he heard the crunch of gravel to his left and right.

"Sir," a voice to his left said, "Slowly raise your hands above your head. We have you surrounded."

Reaper remained still and looked out of both corners of his eyes.

Two men. Semi-auto rifles. The two patrolmen.

"Sir," the voice to his right said, "We will fire if you do not heed our order."

Very slowly Reaper removed the gun from Paulo's head and brought his hands up. Paulo sagged with relief letting his own hands fall to his knees. Reaper listen to the two men walk towards them.

Patience

Reaper waited until the person at his left was within range before he moved. It was a slow turn to face the man to his left. Reaper watched as the man stowed his rifle away and reached up to take Reaper's pistol, that's when Reaper struck. He brought his pistol down and over the man's heart and fired two shots before his right shoulder was thrown forward.

He used the momentum of the impact to spin around the dying man in front of him placing the body between Reaper and the other man. One arm wrapped around the man's neck Reaper fired. It took three shots before one found its mark in the man's skull. Letting the body drop to the ground Reaper turned back to Paulo who, surprisingly, hadn't moved.

He placed the gun back against Paulo's temple.

"No…no chance you'll let me li…," was all Paulo got to say before Reaper fired. He watched as the body rocked back and collapsed on the ground. Reaper looked at the three dead bodies before him and at the slowly rising sun. He knew he had to work fast to leave the message behind before the others made it back.

Dragging the body of Paulo to the large bay door he began to write.

{Signal Lost…Designation: REAPER…}

{ERROR….No signal found…Trying to acquire signal…}

It was nearly midday when the Sons started to make their way back to the base. It was a slow drive through the jungle and at the close distance between the various vehicles that had taken, conversations were being had.

There was nothing really worth nothing in anything they said. Mostly talks for what antics they had gotten into the night before. They did talk about the helicopter they had seen flying away. A few made jokes about Paulo taking that girl he'd been seeing out on a ride.

Then someone in the lead car shouted, "Xavier! There's a fire up ahead." The mood changed instantly as the slow drive became hurried and all conversation died down.

What they were met with was something out of a horror movie. Two bodies swung slowly from where they hung at the gate. Most of the vehicles were set ablaze, but the real horror was the bay door.

Paulo was propped against it, eyes open and skull blown open. Above him was something written in a deep crimson that was slowly drying into a dark brown.

It read," Você foi avisado para se comportar. Este é o último aviso."

Fear set into the group as they read the words.

"You two," Xavier shouted pointing at two of the men, "Go check inside." They nodded and quickly took off towards the side door. Xavier walked slowly over to Paulo after ordering some others to cut the hanging bodies down. "I hope it was quick brother," he said closing Paulo's eyes.

"Sir!" a call rang out as he stood back up. "You're going to want to see this," one of the men he had sent inside shouted. Xavier felt a cold chill pass through his body. If this was what was left for them outside he feared what was behind these doors.

"Open the doors!" he shouted standing still.

As the doors slowly opened Xavier realized that they never should have gone against the Federation.

{….Signal acquired… G. Rorke…}

Gabriel Rorke is many things. At one time he was a hero, but that changed when his team left him for dead. Now he was the United States' worst nightmare. In the Federation he had access to whatever he needed to bring his former nation to its knees and he was. Soon there would be no United States, no Ghosts only the Federation.

Gabriel Rorke is many things but he is not the most patient of men. So as he stands slowly flipping through the report in his hands he knows that people are giving him a wide berth. Though normally they do this anyway.

It's this waiting and careful reading that lets him notice the discrepancies in Reaper's report. Events don't quite align, a shift in the way certain words are written. Most people would write it off as blood loss from Reaper's injuries but Rorke knows Reaper better. He's hiding something.

When the door next to him opened Rorke turned to see one of the nurses walking out with an arm full of medical supplies.

"Is the doctor finished?" Rorke asked. The nurse jumped at this question and dropped everything she was holding. Not looking him the eye she nodded. Rorke walked past her and into the room.

The doctor was shining a light in Reaper's eyes.

"Is he going to make it?" Rorke asked. He honestly didn't care what happened to Reaper in the long run but the Federation did. Reaper was expensive and they couldn't afford to lose him yet before they got their money back.

The doctor clicked his light off and stuck in his pocket. "Oh he'll make it. Five stitch needing wounds, several bandages and a one transfusion later and your dog is ready to go," The doctor scoffed writing a few things down in his file. "Now sir I'm fully aware that my words have no value to you," the doctor continued looking Rorke in the eye, "but let this man rest for a few days to heal. If you work a tool too hard at some point it will break."

"I'll take that under advisement," Rorke chuckled, "Now get out."

The doctor grumbled something under his breath as he left, closing the door behind him. Rorke turned to look at Reaper who was looking at his feet like a guilty child.

Rorke opened the file he'd been looking at before speaking. "You know Reaper I have to commend you on another successful mission. You have the highest completion rate of any operative we have ever used. However there is something I noticed reading over your report."

Rorke looked up to see that Reaper still wasn't looking at him and now he was gripping the edge of the table he was sitting on.

"Reconnaissance of building proved invaluable," Rorke read of, "Now here is where I have some trouble. 'Tour guide killed upon recognition.' Did you recognize him or did he recognize you?"

"He recognized me sir," Reaper said quietly. Rorke noted the crack of Reaper's voice. It was lack of use more than anything. Reaper was under orders to only speak when necessary.

Rorke closed the file and crossed his arms. "Now that is very interesting considering you wear a mask…you were wearing your mask?" Reaper didn't say anything and he was still refusing to look at Rorke.

"Reaper," Rorke said flatly, "Look me in the eye and tell me if you were wearing your mask and why you worded your report this way."

The change in Reaper was instant. His head snapped up and he spoke almost robotically, "I had forgotten to pull my mask up until after that altercation. As for the report I was following orders sir. Reaper never fails. Reports must reflect that sir."

Rorke nodded, "Very good. But you did fail Reaper. What do we do with those who fail us?"

"They are to be punished," Reaper answered.

"Reaper follow me," Rorke said turning and leaving the room. He could hear Reaper's foot fall just behind him.

Walking down the halls Rorke noted that everyone was quickly getting out of his way more than normal. Rorke knew all of the soldiers and staff were afraid him, he'd built his reputation to make sure they were. The amount of panic he saw in their faces as he walked wasn't just from him but from Reaper and you might could call Rorke vain but he saw the power in causing fear.

The walk to the containment cells was quiet. Neither said a word when they entered the building, when they walked down the stairs to the lowest floor or when they reached the room Rorke was looking for.

"You know what to do," Rorke said opening the door. Reaper nodded and walked in. The room was dark save for a small lightbulb hanging by the door. The floors and walls were all stone that sucked any form of heat from the room. He stopped in the small pool in the center of the room. The water only came up to his ankles but the ice cold water had a reddish brown tint to it. Reaper sank to his knees and secured a manacle to one wrist to keep his arm in place.

Rorke walked over to the shelf against the wall and took a dirty and worn cloth bag off. He walked over and stood behind Reaper, placing a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Keep in mind that what is about to happen in entirely your fault," Rorke said securing the other manacle. He slipped the bag over Reaper's head and walked over to the valve by the shelf.

Rorke barely turned it on a first. A small stream of water poured onto Reaper's head. Rorke waited until the bag was thoroughly drenched before he put the water on full blast. Gallons and gallons of cold water poured over Reaper's head.

At first the man was motionless, but as the water continued to pour over him he began to thrash about. This was the one thing Reaper was afraid of. He didn't fear pain or dying. He feared drowning. Try as they might it was the one thing they had never been able to remove from him.

However it was one of the best punishments they had for the rare cases when Reaper did not follow orders.

Rorke stood there and watched. He watched as Reaper thrash became increasingly more panicked. He let the water pour over Reaper for a good twenty minutes before he turned the knob back until it was just a small stream again.

"Next time don't forget your mask," Rorke said as turned to walk out the door, "I'll be back later to see if managed to get yourself out of those cuffs."

He slammed the door behind him and started to thumb through the report again. It wasn't to noticeable Reaper's lie so Rorke didn't see the need to hold on to it for long. Rorke turned his attention to the other file he had. It looked like Reaper's next orders.

'Find and return the Daughter of Malocchio International CEO' was what the cover page read. Skimming through the report showed that most of the leg work had been done all that was left was for Reaper to grab her in….Florence, Italy. Humming quietly to himself he wondered if Reaper knew any Italian.

Pushing that thought to the back of his head, he went to check up on the Titan drop that the US was supposed to pick up in tomorrow. If Rorke mole has done their job correctly then Hesh should be on that mission. For their sake they had better deliver. Reaper was worth keeping around, but a mole. They were a dime a dozen.

AN:

Translations;
Abrir Fogo- Open Fire
Demônio- Demon
Desgraçado-Bastard
Monstro- monster
Porra- Fuck
Foda-se Xavier. Eu vou assombrá-lo para o resto de seus dias- Fuck you Xavier. I'll haunt you for the rest of your days.
Você foi avisado para se comportar. Este é o último aviso- You were warned to behave. This is the last warning.