Magnolia Steele was sitting at a table in a quiet restaurant a block away from Makembe's official headquarters, leg draped over the other. She looked down at what she was wearing and tried not to shake her head, feeling slightly exposed. She really thought she was going to have to slug Lieu, the woman was laughing so hard before they left. But, if Magnolia was honest with herself, she'd have to admit – she did look good.

The skirt was tie-dyed in muted tones of maroon, mustard yellow and tan. It was trimmed with beads and flecks of metallic materials. Powell had added a simple tan t-shirt with capped sleeves and topped it off with an oversized scarf of tribal print with colors that complimented the skirt. The sandals and matching belt were soft leather, embellished with tiny shells and beads that looked the same as those on the skirt. Her hair was tied back in a neat bun, a few loose tendrils framing her face. The look was completed with a light lip gloss and mascara to lengthen her already long lashes.

Barney had almost refused to go – almost.

He sat across from her and couldn't get over the transformation. Up to this point, Steele had been in jeans and boots or athletic pants and t-shirts – or naked in his arms when they were in bed, which he preferred so far. To see her dressed up like this, looking, well, like a woman; he'd felt like a boy on his first date. He'd really wanted a beer to help ease along the process, but a nice establishment like this demanded wine. He'd ordered the bottle, which sat in an ice bucket next to the table. He sipped his glass while trying to discreetly take in Magnolia Steele, arm draped along the table, hardly able to stare at anything else.

When Barney had joined her in the central room of their hideout, Steele had swallowed her gasp of surprise. He was devastatingly good-looking, to the point where it was almost paralyzing. He was in black slacks with a white button-down shirt, two buttons undone; crisp and clean and at odds with the black she was accustomed to. The belt and Italian leather shoes spoke of simple wealth, unfussed and tasteful. He was freshly shaved and his hair was neatly combed, and he'd offered her his arm like a real date. Magnolia had to remember what to do, only briefly, suddenly transported back to senior prom as a girlish waif. They walked out arm-in-arm, as if in a Frank Sinatra movie.

Now dining over an extravagant meal of chicken cordon bleu with fresh vegetables, Barney began to talk her through their surroundings. "What did you notice?"

Steele glanced around then answered, "No military presence in the streets and a limited guard around her headquarters."

"Which tells you?" Ross coached.

"She's comfortable."

He nodded, shrugging a shoulder in speculation. "So either Church has been able to find the mole or…"

"Or, her source doesn't know about us yet," Steele finished, cocking a brow. She looked rather pleased with her observation.

He nodded at her, "Good girl." Then, he pushed away from the table, "I want to take a stroll by her…place of residence," Barney smiled, words sounding sophisticated at a moment like this. "We'll need to walk off this meal." He held up a camera, nodding at her. "And I think I'd like a little something to remember this evening."

She grinned, shrugging a compliant shoulder, and plopping her chin on her hand as her elbow found the table-top. "Sounds good to me." Then he got up, offered her a proper hand, and when she rolled her eyes and added, "Lead the way, boss," he grinned.

Ross paid the bill and the couple headed down the street. He had Magnolia stop in several different locations to take pictures, each time shooting towards their target. He hated to use the flash, but they needed good images of the building they would infiltrate. If they had to go at night, the team would require intel of sentry and munitions, and he couldn't gamble with information like that. Another flash in the general direction of the leader's home base had finally stirred the interest of the surrounding guard.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ross caught the movement. Nonplussed, he grabbed her elbow and whirled her about. He ordered Steele in a hiss, "Start a fight."

"What?" She was caught off-guard, brows raised, and jerked away from him. "Are you-"

He frowned at her, hauling her roughly towards him again when he grabbed her arm, "I said, start a figh…"

Before Barney could finish the sentence, she peered over his shoulder to the incoming muscle and Magnolia hauled off, slapping his face hard. The crack resounded against the almost deserted streets, clearly; her shuffling back a few steps, looking sorry only briefly.

"What the hell?" Ross leaned back, rubbing his cheek.

"What do you mean, you slept with my sister?" Magnolia put her hands on her hips, cocking one authoritatively. "I thought we were exclusive."

"I know, sweetheart," Barney got into character, stepping towards her to bridge the growing distance, "and it was just that one time. And, you should know," he leaned in close, "she is nowhere as good in bed as you are." He casually slipped the camera into his pocket, her noticing with a shift of her eyes.

The guards who had been making their way to the couple froze, enraptured by the argument. They covered their faces, while some turned their backs, hearing the man's last attempt at placating the angry woman. They looked genuinely intrigued and entertained, obviously English-speaking.

Steele sucked in a breath, "And that's supposed to make me feel better?"

When she raised her hand to slap him again, Barney grabbed her, using his superior body weight to move her against the wall. Once pinned, he leaned in and kissed her hard, to keep her quiet, until she stopped resisting in the finagling wriggling attempt she'd been carrying on a bit too convincingly. Steele soon stopped her struggle as his hands loosened the grip on her arms. In her mind, she knew this was part of the diversion. Right? But with the feel of his body against hers, the taste of the wine on his lips, and the way her hair felt in his fingers, the idea of this being for show died as soon as it formed.

Seemingly of their own volition, her arms wrapped around his neck and she closed the distance between them.

They needed to stop, Ross thought. This is a mission. This is recon. This is an act. All those ideas flitted through his brain and kept right on moving, making tracks just as he was trying to get them back. The one statement that stayed was as smooth and dangerous as any appeal could be, the thought that this felt perfect - absolutely perfect. She fit him perfectly. Every curve of her body filled every flat plain of his. He slid his hand down her arm and cupped her hip, fingers careful along her smooth skin. The other hand found that mass of curls and let them loose, dropping the clip as if it had never existed. She might be a young harridan with a smart mouth and ever-present smirk, but – damn, the girl could kiss, and she could kiss good.

He finally regained his composure, sensing the guards had moved back to their former posts. He stepped back, reluctantly, checking over his shoulder briefly. Ross found his voice, and looked back to her. "You okay?"

Steele blinked a couple of times before answering, her nod slow. "Yeah, but I gave you a red mark on your cheek." Why that was important, she didn't really know, but it was suddenly. She fought the urge to reach up and move her hand along it carefully, as if to ease the stinging red glare.

Barney chuckled. "I'll let it slide this once," her smile formed carefully, "But," he glanced over his shoulder knowing they were still being closely observed, then reached for her hand, "we should head back."

Magnolia nodded; unsure she could form anything else resembling a coherent statement, and followed behind him towards their parked vehicle. She didn't pull away when Barney took her hand.

On missions like this, Shady sometimes found it difficult to sleep. It had been the same as an NCIS agent working a case – long hours, longer jobs, short temper. But, jobs always seemed to have layers. And, she couldn't move on until she had stripped away everything to get to the next level. All the questions had to be answered, no stone left unturned, no "i" undotted or "t" uncrossed.

When Ross and Steele came back from their dinner/recon, neither of them had spoken. The woman gave Shady a curt nod and hurriedly exited to the room assigned as the women's barracks in a swirl of skirt and hair. The Boss put the camera down on the table, mumbled something about changing clothes and catching a couple hours' wrack time, and departed just as quickly with a curt nod to Shady and look towards the ruffled female mercenary's path.

Powell shrugged and grabbed the memory card to download the night's work, slipping onto the chair and bringing a leg up under her as she scratched her head. As the images began to appear on the laptop, Shady couldn't help the small smile. Of course, there were perfect shots of Aza Makembe's base of operations; clear angles showing guards, barricades and weapons locations – Ross' insistence, she was sure. The man was a damn perfectionist, or close to.

However, there was something more. Two or three of the pictures were only Magnolia. They were expertly framed, showing a young woman having a good time on a date with a handsome man. Powell could have had a field day with this ammunition, using it against either party, finding it slightly near ridiculously perfect but also scandalously sexy. But, given the way this woman looked in these photos, she couldn't. Wouldn't. Instead, she tucked the pictures into a folder on her computer and sent them in a secure email to Barney's private address.

One layer down, she told herself.

Then, she got back to the task at hand – peeling away another layer, one that reeked of Aza Makembe.

The next day, it was Gunner and Lieu's turn. They figured a way to cover the distinctive hair that wouldn't call too much attention or screamed fierce and fiery redhead, and the couple made for the beach. They would take more pictures of the docks and the tankers, as instructed, and call it good. Toll and Hale got to do Aza's home, as much fun as the job seemed to inspire, and did so as they'd went on a much needed and lengthy jog that evening.

This pattern continued over the next four days. Barney was careful to vary the combinations so that no one was paired together repeatedly. That way, if Makembe's team did make them, they couldn't say for sure who was a part and who wasn't.

Their central room had probably been the police station's bullpen, he reasoned, given the size and structure of the place. There were still a few odd desks, some chairs, and a couple of old couches that the guys had covered with tarps and then some blankets to make them somewhat tolerable. Because at this point, comfort was a dream, and tolerable was luxury.

It was evening now, and Toll, Gunner and Pinkie were playing poker. Steele was leaning over her friend's shoulder, pestering more than helping, while running a bluing rag along the barrel of her issued Beretta. Somehow at the apartment she'd talked Ross into giving her a weapon, and after the placating favor that followed the request, he'd happily obliged. Now she didn't venture anywhere without the damn thing, and it did loads for her confidence.

Christmas and Caesar were out walking the picket and making one more surveillance round, at their own want, and Shady now had one wall covered in pictures. Her NCIS mind worked in overtime to uncover the layers she was insistent about finding – as always. She had different perspectives of Makembe's base and the tankers lined up at the port. The warehouse that seemed to be the main office for the export joint venture was also visible, another photo in her hand.

On the large photo of Aza's headquarters, a grease pencil had been used to mark guardhouses, sentry positions and weapons caches. The same had been done on the warehouse. Barney stood next to Shady, pointing out different things to add. He finally said under his breath, "Are you seeing this?"

Powell made a face, "Yeah." She looked at him, "But would you really try it?"

He shrugged, "No guarantees."

She put her hands on her hips and then, just as quickly, reached with one finger, "What are we missing here?" Shady tapped the picture of the docks.

"You got me," Barney mumbled. He turned his back and hollered for Steele, jerking his head back to signal her come. "Flowers!"

Pushing herself from the back of Lieu's chair, she chuckled something at the redhead and turned her attention to him, stuffing the Beretta back to its spot along her thigh. "You know, I really don't think I like that nickname," she responded as she crossed to the couple, "And you don't have to yell, Chief." The words rolled off her tongue like lighter-fluid on an already sparked fire.

Shady grinned, "So you prefer Mags, then?"

Steele shook her head, "Not really." When neither Expendable seemed willing to speak, she challenged. "Did you want something, or am I just here for shits and giggles?" Jutting out that familiar hip, she put a hand on it, and Magnolia gestured to the wall. Cocking a brow to Shady, she shrugged. "Making collages, Boots?"

Barney threw an arm around her shoulder, chuckling as Shady rolled her eyes. "So you planned the assaults for your team, right?" She blinked at his sudden action, but didn't seem to hesitate. Instead, she holstered the hip and stuffed her hands into her shorts pockets.

She leaned into Barney, unthinking of the scrutiny to which Boots now subjected her, with narrowed and deciphering eyes. "Clever, aren't you?" She challenged him.

Shady tried to cover her smile by flattening her lips, but instead jutted a finger into a picture. "What do you see?" She splayed out a hand behind her towards the wall as if presenting a new car instead of intelligence snapshots.

Steele studied the pictures intently, stepping away from Barney and narrowing her eyes. Her brow furrowed, she moved a couple around then lifted a few others of the shots. She finally stepped back and looked to Ross, shock splayed across her features. Her brows rose a mile high on her face. "Are you really thinking of a breach in broad daylight?"

He gave Shady a nod, "She's on the same page." Ross squeezed Stainless' shoulder, "Take another look. I'm open to options." He turned to leave them, "Can't be right all the time, can I?" But, the look on their faces told him that he was usually more so right than wrong, and this was no exception.

"Is Aza really that defenseless?" Steele looked at Powell, blinking a few times as she shuffled the photos in her hands.

Boots shrugged, "I don't know." She pointed at the docks, "There's a heavy presence here."

"She's protecting her cash cow, so yeah. Makes sense." She bit her lower lip and spread her legs a shoulder's width apart, swaying slightly as she studied more detail of the photos. She looked back to Shady a moment.

"Is she? Or," Shady cut a sideways glance, "does she know we're here and she's baiting us?"

Magnolia handed the photos back, lifted the low bun off her neck, and puffed out a breath. She then crossed her arms over her chest, "Wouldn't put it past her. Really only one way to know for sure, right?"

Shady lifted her eyebrows, making a face that said more than any words. They stared at the surveillance data a little longer until Powell suddenly froze, yanking another picture off the wall. Steele was surprised by the action but she'd been told by Gunner and Toll that the former NCIS agent was a little unorthodox when working jobs like this.

Shady grabbed a folder that she'd brought with her, shuffling through other photos. She found the one she wanted and compared it to the shot from the wall. Softly, she said, "Magnolia?"

Magnolia had learned something about Shady Powell. She had learned that whichever name Shady used to address her, it meant something different. When the woman wanted to tease or torment her, Boots called her Mags. When she spoke to her in front of the Expendables, Shady always called her Steele. But, when she wanted something serious, Powell called her Magnolia. So, whatever Shady was about to discuss, this was going to be important, and she'd be damned to miss it. She strode over quickly, swallowing a solid lump that formed in her throat.

Shady looked at the other woman carefully, "Your contact with the local tribe? What was his name?"

"Rakur," Steele supplied.

"And you made that contact? He was one of your sources?" She moved the pictures with a flick of her wrist to show them face-first to Magnolia.

She shook her head, "No. He was Church's man on the ground." She shrugged a shoulder and wrapped her arms in front of her, curious now.

"He told you that?" Her tone was questioningly dangerous, and suspicion roused in Magnolia's gut.

She nodded, gesturing with a hand now. "Yeah. Met at the rendezvous cleared by the CIA data and identified himself as my liaison." She blinked, "He knew the code word and everything. No reason to suspect anything."

Shady grabbed another file and thumbed through it feverishly, nodding subconsciously. She pulled out an official memo, supplied in the materials from the CIA. She then grabbed another photograph and making eye contact, passed it to Steele. "That's him right?"

Magnolia looked at the picture, "Yeah. In fact, I think that's Lieu in the background." She turned towards the card table and called for her partner, extending a photo at hand.

Pinksley, hearing her name, replied, "Deal me out, guys." She slapped the table, scraped the chair back, and stood up. Wandering over to Boots and Stainless, she eyed the photo, then her former CO, before she confirmed, "That's definitely Rakur." The card game was suddenly suspended as Jensen, Road and now, Ross, began listening in.

Lieu continued, "What's the problem?"

Boots hesitated. This information would be volatile. "Magnolia, I don't think Rakur worked for the CIA." She passed the memo, "There was never a name mentioned in any of the information." She then handed over more pictures to the mercenary, "I think there's a good chance he works for Makembe or Okunda. I believe…"

She interrupted as realization dawned. "That's at the docks," the pain was evident in her eyes. "When was it taken?"

"Just yesterday," Powell said quietly.

Magnolia ripped the photo from her hand, flew from her place, almost knocking Lieu to the ground as she did so, eyes almost painted red with rage. Shady tried to grab for Steele but wasn't fast enough, and Stainless would have fled the room had she not bounced into the hard chest of Barney Ross. She tried to shove past him, but he grabbed her wrist possessively. "Going somewhere?" He plucked the photo from her hand roughly.

"Damn straight," Magnolia growled at him, jerking her arm back. He released her, his gaze hard, and she gracefully fell back a few shuffled steps, only to stop and square off at him. He ignored the stance.

He shook his head. "No, not damn straight. We've got a team in the field." Barney looked over the curly head at Boots, "Contact Christmas and Hale. Send them the picture and tell them it's a black bag job." She nodded, grabbing her phone and punching in the numbers, moving back to her wall of photos to make the call. Turning to Stainless, he added, "Flowers, you and Fireball here - get a game plan together. When the guys bring him in, you two get the honors. Satisfied?"

"Yeah," Steele gave a curt nod, grabbed at the bun at the back of her head, and wrangled it loose, only to toss it up into a mess that could only mean business. She stomped out, momentarily mumbling to herself. Lieu and Gunner exchanged a look, then exited as well. The three would use one of the interrogation rooms and begin strategizing, and best to start now than later. Ross got the sense Magnolia worked well and quick when she was mad.

Toll and Ross shared a few words before the former wrestler left the area. Barney listened to Shady give the instructions and hang up the phone. Sometimes, Snow was easier to read than she knew. "Something you want to say?"

"Well," Shady bit her lip, "I mean, I'm the one who actually interrogated people for a living. Don't you think I'd be a better choice?" She pinned the photos back to the wall, replaced her phone, and shrugged at him.

He grinned, "Not for this. This requires someone who looks, ya' know, a little tougher." He gestured her up and down, and she quirked a look at him.

"I'm not sure if I got complimented, or Mags and Pinkie just got insulted." She pursed her lips together in a smile, "or maybe it's vice versa?"

He chortled, "The two of them are a little more battle-hardened than you are. And, while I know you can be downright lethal, the fact is," Barney added, "they are the last people on earth this guy is betting on. That alone should be intimidating enough to scare the shit out of him."

Shady crossed her arms over her chest, "Okay. Nice recovery, I'll give you that."

"Oh, and next time you plan on dropping a bombshell, give a guy some notice. Would ya'?" Ross chuckled. He rolled his eyes.

She ducked her head. "Sorry. It all just began to coalesce and," she shrugged, making a mess of her hands to indicate the process for emphasis. He ruffled her hair and went to check on the other two women, Shady not needing to say anything else.