The world was never inherently bad nor inherently good but rather, an incoherent mix of the two. Even the evildoers, Wolf thought, had reasons. However, part of being SAS was to overcome these kinds of thoughts. Erase any sentiments he might have toward his targets because one second of hesitation equaled ten more lives lost. Did that make him less human? Yes, but the remorse and guilt that plagued him afterward reminded him of his humanity.

Wolf shook himself out of his thoughts as he ducked and raced into the building. Although the sniper fire had ceased for the moment, Wolf wasn't going to let his guard down. He already had four officers down and nine civilian casualties. And it's only been five goddamn minutes.

"John!" shouted Fox behind him in warning. The agent broke into a run from the car and skid to a stop next to Wolf behind the cover of the walls. A sudden rush of gunfire created a dented trail behind him.

"I'm going with you," said Agent Rider, a hand around the handle of his gun. "I know Gregorovich."

Wolf grunted. "What are you going to do?"

"Let me go in and talk to him. He knows me. I can get him and the girl out."

They had visual on Gregorovich and Claire for a brief moment on the second floor but the snipers, undoubtedly from Scorpia, were pinning all of them down. If they moved fast enough, they might be able to go in. Although if they were to end this quickly and without drawing more blood, they needed to locate the snipers.

"I spot three on the roof," said Agent Rider as if reading his mind. "But I heard at least one more."

"Why are they not moving in?"

"Gregorovich," said Agent Rider. "The girl might be shot, but Gregorovich isn't. Or even if he is, he's still a formidable opponent."

Wolf spared the agent a quick glance. "Personal experience?"

"...Something like that."

Wolf really didn't like the way the words sounded. Something like that—it was about as vague as saying 'yes no maybe so' with a sprinkle of 'never going to tell you'. He grunted in irritation and shifted, trying to get a better look at the staircase leading to the second floor.

Agent Rider grabbed him back down as a bullet wheezed over his head, clanging against the metal pole a few meters behind them. Wolf swore.

"Do that again," said Agent Rider after a few seconds of silently waiting.

"Excuse me?"

"Draw their fire." Agent Rider explained. "I can take them out if I can confirm their location."

"It's too risky."

"C'mon, just a quick over-the-wall peek."

Wolf relented, pressing his forehead against the wall for a brief second. He then shot up and down like whack-a-moles. Two shots were heard, one narrowly blowing past his ear and the other brushing against his other ear, so close that he could feel the kiss of the metal against his skin. Infuriatingly, the latter was from Agent Rider who was standing upright, gun still out but a satisfied smile on his face.

"Gotcha," said the agent. The sound of a body and a gun collapsing onto the floor was heard from the staircase.

"You nearly blew my ear off!"

Agent Rider glanced at him as if surprised at the accusation. "Nearly."

"...I felt the bullet." Wolf felt almost defensive at the innocent tone.

"Don't worry. I'm good at this." The man waved his gun in emphasis. "Let's go."

They scaled the stairs two at the time quietly, guns drawn and eyes scanning the area. Agent Rider lacked the cohesion of an SAS unit member, but he managed surprisingly well in partner work. Wolf grabbed his radio as they reached the halfway landing.

"Anyone have visual on Gregorovich and Claire?" asked Wolf.

He waited for a brief second before he received a response. "Negative. They were last seen behind one of the vending counters on the second floor but we no longer have eyes on them."

"Copy that. Advancing."

As soon as they opened the door, gunfire pushed them back accompanied by the sound of glass breaking. The bullets must have come from the outside. The opposite building, perhaps, but just as dangerous.

"There's a marble counter on the right," said Agent Rider. "If we move fast enough, we can get behind cover alive."

Wolf nodded, setting a hand on the door handle again. "On three?"

He eased the door open by a small fraction when the agent affirmed. The small movement went unnoticed but Wolf knew that any more would immediately draw fire. He made eye contact with the agent on the right side of the door. Agent Rider nodded.

As he reached one, Wolf threw open the door abruptly. Agent Rider bent down and darted out sideways like a bullet from the chamber, tucking his legs in as he pulled himself the last few inches behind cover. Wolf counted five bullets buried in the wall and the floor between the door and the counter. The agent gave him a thumbs up.

Pushing the door out wide, Wolf followed suit. There was a surprising lack of fire as he landed heavily on the floor beside the agent. He glanced at what was visible of the large glass panel that was the window over the top of the counter. The glass at the edges was jagged and shattered. Scattered across the floor were shards of the translucent glass. Either he had managed to catch them off guard or the snipers were on the move.

"Let's go," muttered Wolf, a knee on the ground.

Agent Rider shushed him with a finger to his lip. "Did you hear that?"

Wolf stopped and listened. Breaking the silent afternoon air were short gasps of struggling breaths. Wolf didn't have extensive medical knowledge like Snake did but he could identify the punctured lung from where he knelt.

"Must be the girl," said Agent Rider softly. "Two o'clock."

"Gregorovich!" Wolf called out.

Something shifted on their right and Wolf ducked just in time to catch the glimpse of a gun. The silence produced only a short warning before the wall behind him splintered in unfriendly warning.

"We're here to help," said Agent Rider instead.

"...John?"

"Yeah."

Wolf didn't know what was the relationship between Agent Rider and Gregorovich, but if had he thought that the recognition would earn them access, he had thought wrong. Agent Rider barely managed to get out a shout of warning before bullets pummeled where their heads were seconds ago.

"We mean no harm! Let me see the girl, at the very least. She's been shot, right?"

The gun disappeared for a moment before the voice responded. "Fine."

They rounded the corner. Gregorovich was sitting with his back against the counter, the girl leaning heavily against him. Wolf knelt down beside her and took her pulse. It was slow and thready and he could count the integer seconds between each beat. Blood pooled around the floor beneath her and Gregorovich's hands were caked with blood. When the assassin shifted to greet Agent Rider, his hands left bloodied marks on the marble floor.

"You alright?" asked Agent Rider the assassin as Wolf gingerly maneuvered to check on the girl.

The assassin's cold gaze fixed on the agent's eyes without a response. When he spoke, however, it was to Wolf. "There's nothing you can do for her."

Wolf shook his head. "If we get her out now, we can save her."

"She's been shot in the leg and the chest. She's already lost too much blood."

"Don't rule her out like that," Wolf growled back as his hands flickered to her upper leg. The black of the tourniquet had blended in with her pants and Wolf had missed it, having been too focused on the chest wound. The fabric was already soaked when his hands fell upon it. Gregorovich was right. She had lost too much blood.

"...Ya…sen?" Claire croaked softly, blood trailing down her face as her hands shifted feebly in search for something.

The assassin turned and settled a quiet hand on hers. "It's alright. Close your eyes. Take a nap. I'll wake you later."

"I…I…" Under the shades of her eyelids, the browns were tightened in fear.

"It's alright," repeated the assassin. "You did well."

Just like that, the eyes became unfocused and when Wolf gingerly felt for her wrist again, he could no longer feel the beats. He sat back heavily.

"She did well," Gregorovich said, reaching over to close her eyes. "Let's go."

There was a sense of numbness accompanied by the way they just left her there, leaning against the counter in a pool of her own blood, eyes closed, and hands weakly outstretched as if grasping onto a string.

"All four snipers have been located," the radio blared to life. That was quick. "Unfortunately, two have fled the scene. The others had been shot and killed."

Wolf cleared his throat. "Let's round it up."

Alex and Fletcher met up with Beck at the corner cafe. The weather was agreeable with just enough sunshine to melt away the gloominess imposed by Fletcher. The clouds, however, were already drifting toward them. The road into the city had been blocked. Apparently, there had been a shooting in the plaza with thirteen casualties. Alex had tried calling Claire for some form of explanation but she wasn't picking up. Probably busy, he thought.

Beck quietly cleared her throat. "I, um, I knew I told you I didn't know anything about this drive you're looking for, but I do. I just want you to know that I didn't hide it because I don't want you to know. It's because I couldn't. I didn't know who to trust."

"It's alright," said Alex. "We understand."

"So you do know where it is?"

"No, no I don't." She shook her head. "But I know who has it. Ben gave it to that man who came to our house. They went out that night and, and they never came back. And the next day, Ben…Ben was found dead."

"What man?" Alex asked although he had his guess.

"I don't know remember his name but." She swallowed. "He's the man that you showed me a photo of. You said he was found next to my husband's body. That's him."

"Cross Morrison?"

Beck nodded. "He promised that if we give the drive to him, we don't have to worry about it anymore. He said dangerous people were after it, so we gave it to him. We didn't want anything to do with it."

"Did he say what he was going to do with it?"

"What can he do with it?" She shook her head. "I don't know. I just, I believed him when he said he'll help us. That's all I know, I'm sorry."

"No, that was extremely helpful," Fletcher said. "Thank you for your time."

Beck smiled. After she left, Alex turned to Fletcher. "Ha, see, the gang is related to Scorpia. So we have the gang against Scorpia. You against Scorpia. That makes us and the gang friends, right? I mean, besides their shooting you."

"No."

"No? Just…no?"

"No."

"...Okay. But can we still go ask them if they have the drive?"

"I doubt that. I know somebody in there. If they do have the drive, I would've known."

"...Right, but you still got shot."

Fletcher shot him a glance and promptly changed the subject. "Who else could've come in contact the drive between Crawford's meeting and him coming up dead? Did you find anything in the crime scene?"

"Nope. It was clean besides a card from Scorpia." Alex paused. "What if Cross had time to go somewhere before he was killed? What if Crawford and Cross weren't killed at the same place?"

Fletcher took his thoughts into consideration. "Where would he have gone?"

"Dunno, but maybe someplace to hide the drive for the moment."

"Someplace he's familiar with."

Alex nodded. "Maybe Sebastien would know. They did grow up together."

"Sebastien?"

"His brother." Also, the man who called Tom to confirm Alex as an officer. Good time. Alex sighed. "We should go have a talk with him."

Fletcher nodded. Seeing the agreement, Alex made to stand, but Fletcher waved him back down. "Hold on."

Alex sat back down, confused. "Something else?"

Above them, the sky rumbled slightly. The clouds ran over the sun and had begun to settle in. It was going to rain soon and Alex would rather be inside when it happened.

Fletcher leaned in slightly as if peering at the menu on the table. "There's a man behind you—don't look, what are you, five?—a few tables down. He's been watching us for a while now. Undoubtedly, he knows us."

Alex paused, resisting the urge to disobey and look. "As in Scorpia-knows knows? Or creepy-dude-knows knows?"

"Not Scorpia." Fletcher shook his head. "I don't recognize him.

Alex angled his head slightly to sneak a glance. Who possibly—wait. He blinked then snapped his head back again. Wait. The man behind them wiggled his finger and gave Alex a wave.

"That's not good," said Alex when he turned back. "That's Eagle. He works with Wolf."

Fletcher frowned, seemingly perplexed all of the sudden. "Eagle? What kind of name is Eagle?"

"I dunno. He said it's a nickname. Maybe it has something to do with Wolf being called Wolf. Maybe it's a code name—Wolf did say that he was part of SAS until he broke his arm. "

"SAS?"

"Special Air…Something."

"I know what it stands for. I just wasn't aware that he was."

"I thought you're a Mister Know-It-All. My expectation exceeded your reputation, I see."

Fletcher huffed, crossing his arms, tensing just slightly when a faint shadow fell over their table. Eagle made his way to their table. He leaned against the edge casually. "Hello Fletcher, hello Mayford." He paused dramatically. "Oops, my bad, I forgot to ask. Do you prefer Mayford or Alex?"

Alex's eyes flickered sharply to the man's and his feet planted themselves firmly on the ground in case he needed to run or knock Eagle out with a chair. Outwardly, he remained lax in his seat. "I've no idea what you're talking about."

"C'mon, it was a good cover while it lasted but it's not funny anymore. You're like, sixteen."

Alex arched an eyebrow. "Gee thanks. I know I look young, but sixteen? I'd take that as a compliment."

"Anyway, Wolf wants to see you two." Eagle grinned, ignoring his attempt. He patted him on the shoulder as if they were friends. "Come with me. I've got a cool car."

"I'm afraid we'll have to decline," said Fletcher as he stood. Alex followed suit. "We have places to be."

"That wasn't a request." Eagle grabbed Alex by his collar and marched him toward the car. "Let's go."

Alex caught Fletcher's eyes for direction. Fletcher nodded but a hint of an ulterior plan was in his posture. It was that moment when Eagle turned just slightly to face his car that Fletcher acted. Or really, he ran. Fletcher flipped over the corner wall. Eagle had tried to grab Fletcher in the brief moment but his fingers only flimsily made contact with the clothing. Eagle grunted in irritation, releasing Alex and about to run to catch Fletcher when he skidded to a stop. The man came back in two leaps and grabbed Alex again. By now, Fletcher had already melted into the busy afternoon pedestrian traffic.

"You're not gonna go after him?" asked Alex dryly, allowing himself to be hauled along to the car.

"And let you run off? One is better than none." Eagle huffed, pulling open the passenger seat. "You better sit still and not run off."

"And if I do?"

"I'll karate chop you."

Eagle kept a scrutinizing eye on him as they drove toward the precinct in silence. Alex wondered just how in the world Eagle and Wolf knew where and when Fletcher and he was meeting Beck. Somebody must have let loose something. A frown marred his features. Besides Fletcher and him, only Beck knew the precise details. It definitely wasn't Fletcher, which meant it was Beck. But why would Beck talk to the police? She said she didn't trust anybody else. Was that a lie? Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe somebody else had leaked it. But who else knew?

He did call Claire, but he didn't tell her anything about the location or the time. Besides, she was trustworthy.

"You angry that Fletcher ran off without you?" Eagle suddenly asked.

"What? No." Alex glanced at the man in confusion. "Why would I?"

"Well, for starters, he ran off without you."

"Not like he could've done anything differently."

"He could've tried to take me out. He could've at least tried."

Alex shrugged. "He has his plan. He knows that you can't hurt me."

Eagle slowed down before the red light. The traffic seemed to be moving sluggishly, more so than usual. "And why's that?"

"Because Wolf has questions." Alex tried to glance past the cars in front. The road led the plaza which was usually busy but not this busy. He thought he saw red and blue lights flashing up ahead but the glare of the sun made it difficult to see. Must be the shooting he heard about on the news. "The shooting. How bad was it?"

"Not sure. Sit still. I have a call to make. Be quiet for a second." Eagle pulled out his phone and dialed a number that he had on speed-dial.

The light turned green. One hand on the wheel and the other on the phone, Eagle pushed forward. "Hey, it's me. I got him but Fletcher got away."

"Is that Wolf?" asked Alex.

Eagle shushed him. "Yeah, we're on our way…Not yet…Was anybody hurt?…"

Alex turned, watching Eagle's face for any hint. He caught the man's gaze flickering to his quickly but then back to the slow-moving traffic.

"You sure that's a good idea?…" Eagle's brows furrowed. "Yeah, yeah, okay. We're almost there." He hung up.

"What did he say" asked Alex. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "What happened?"

Eagle didn't reply but instead gave him a grimace as he switched lane and pulled up as close as he could next to the taped-off plaza. The whole entire square was wrapped with one strand of yellow tape and civilians had gathered all around the lopsided half-circle. Ambulances had their back doors open and the paramedics were carting human-shaped bloodied white sheets into the back of the ambulance. Eagle got out of the car and opened the door for him.

"Follow me and keep your head down," Eagle muttered as he flashed a badge at one of the officers guarding the scene. When the man tried to stop Alex, Eagle told him that Alex was with him.

Alex swallowed. There was something awful with the scene. Something about the emptiness of the vast space and the lack of people just screamed wrong. Alex saw Wolf standing by a man whose back was to him. Beside Alex, Eagle waved to get Wolf's attention. The man's posture clenched almost comically when his eyes settled on Alex. Alex tried to think of some sort of funny excuse to explain his actions but that was the least of his worry when the man blocking Wolf turned as well.

The sky growled loudly. Suddenly Alex found himself looking at a man whom he had been searching for the better half of the year. He froze. The man recognized him as well but it wasn't a 'good to see you son' nor an 'I'm sorry for leaving you' smile he gave Alex but rather an 'I wish we met under better circumstance' grimace.

"That's your dad, isn't it?" Eagle tried to push him forward but Alex pushed back.

Alex didn't want to. It was all too fake. He had been searching for the man for seven months and here he was, acting as if Alex had merely inconvenient himself. John walked toward Alex when Alex refused to budge.

"Get me out of here," said Alex to Eagle. Eagle gave his shoulder a quick squeeze.

"Alex." John's voice carried and all Alex could see was the stretch between him and the man slowly decreasing until he was suddenly right in front of him. "Alex?"

"It's Mayford, not Alex."

"It's okay, son. I'm here. You don't have to pretend anymore." John gathered him slowly in his arms. It felt off. "You okay, buddy?"

Behind Wolf, a pair of paramedics carted out another body, familiar blond curls bounced up and down as they eased the stretcher over a protruding stone slab. In the wind, the sheet fluttered but stuck by the force of the blood. Alex recognized the face when the breeze brushed aside the cloth covering the head.

"Claire?" Alex broke out of John's hold and ran toward the stretcher. Wolf tried to stop him but Alex was faster.

"Hey!" One of the paramedics grabbed him before he got any closer.

Up close, Alex knew he was right. It was Claire. It was Claire. "What happened? C'mon, she can't be dead. What was she doing out here? Why—"

"Mayford!" Wolf snapped, pulling him away. "Let them do their work."

"No, that's Claire! You don't get it. That's Claire. She's, she's my friend. I—"

"I know," said Wolf, a little softer but a little firmer at the same time. "I'm sorry."

Alex watched numbly as the paramedic pushed the cot away. The woman who grabbed him gave him an apologetic look before pulling the sheet back over Claire's face. Just one more body to the dozen that had already been driven away.

Where was Yassen? Why wasn't Yassen here?

"Why don't we go back to the station?" Wolf suggested. "Then we can talk."

John settled a hand on his shoulder gently. "No, I'm taking him home. It's been a long day."

"No." Alex shrugged off the hand angrily. "I want to know what happened."

"Okay."

It began to rain.