The room was silent. We just stood there, staring at each other. Finally, after what seemed like eternity, the soldier wearing yellow-orange tape spoke up.

"What the hell was that?"

"Listen, it's a long story," Church said, gaining his composure long before anyone else. "We can explain everything. That wasn't what it looked like."

"Like hell it wasn't!" The maroon-banded soldier snarled. "Don't think we didn't see all that, Church!"

"You—" Sarge said, dazed. "You—you and Eleven…?"

Simmons breathed heavily. "I'm going to kick your ass so hard—"

The Reds all started speaking the same time—one in confusion, one in bewilderment, one in rage, and one acting as the mediator.

The lone Blue was silent.

"For God's sake, we need to get out of here!" Donut said loudly, cutting all conversation short. "We can't let this mission fail over a stupid bit of drama!"

A crash from the hallway brought us all to our senses. It was a small electrical shortage, but the flickering lights were enough to remind us that we needed to exit this hellhole as fast as possible. Explanations could always come later.

Church and I grabbed our helmets and followed the others out the door, back the way they came. They handed us some extra weapons that they had found, and we made our way to the cockpit.

"I have no idea how you guys made it on here," I said to Donut as we ran down the hallways. "But I am grateful as hell you did. We need to overtake the Director and make our way back to the prison. Caboose is still there."

We made it to a quiet area of the ship before stopping to recuperate for a moment in an empty hallway.

"He's outnumbered," Sarge whispered to us. "We can split up and find him in a jiffy. Kiss-ass here and I will go to the front of the ship and look for him in the cockpit again. Then we'll try and turn this scrap of metal around. Keep your radios on, men. And, uh, woman. Move out."

We all headed in different directions. Although I thought the Director would be in the captain's quarters, we could never be sure. He might have been exploring the ship.

"Church, stick with me, will you?" I asked him as we left. "If the Director's in the captain's quarters, I'm going to need a little help."

Church nodded seriously and followed me back down the hallway to the master bedroom. When we reached the doorway, I saw the light on at the crack below the door. He was in there.

"Okay…" I whispered. I didn't have a plan. "Okay. Well. Why don't we just barge in there and—"

"Eleven," Church cut me off. "Are you crazy? You just spent the last fraction of your life learning how to be Tex… very thoroughly. Are you going to let those skills go to waste?"

"Absolutely."

"No way. I won't let you. That was too damn hard for me to let you throw away all that time and energy!"

I growled. "I should have asked Donut to come with me."

"He would agree with me."

We suddenly heard footsteps becoming louder from the inside of the captain's quarters. I gave Church a panicked look, but he pushed me forward and hid around the next hallway. Before I could go and retrieve him, the door opened.

"Tex?"

My stomach dropped to my toes as I twisted around, coming face to face with the Director.

"Is everything all right?" he asked. "I thought I heard noises."

"It was only me," I replied nervously. I tried to mimic Tex's voice—it was slightly lower than mine. "I was coming to visit you."

I pushed past him and entered his bedroom aggressively, walking in exactly the same manner that Church had showed me, with a slight saunter and swagger. I turned to face him once I sat on the bed, crossing my legs slowly.

I held my breath, waiting for the Director to demand what nonsense this was… but I passed the test. He laughed slowly and approached me, taking off his helmet.

"I see. You really couldn't keep yourself away from me, could you?"

"Obviously not."

He sat down on the bed, facing me with a look in his eyes I wished I weren't seeing. I was shaking inside my suit, but steadied my hand as I placed it on his neck and ran it through his hair. He shivered, smiling ravenously. My heart pounded. He would ask the question I was dreading any moment.

"Why don't we pick up where we left off?" he whispered. He reached up slowly to take off my helmet.

I let his hand snake as far as my neck and then grabbed his wrist forcefully. Before he knew what was happening, I twisted his arm behind his back and whipped around behind him, pinning him to the bed.

His wrist slipped from my fingers and he shoved me away, spinning around and heaving me to the wall.

"Hmm…" he said thoughtfully. "That was… new."

"You'll find I'm full of surprises," I said grimly. My attack hadn't worked. He still thought it was all a game.

I reached up and he looked at my hand expectantly, as if he thought I would caress him instead. I made a gentle move to make him think so, and then punched him—hard.

The Director's dizziness dissipated and he glared at me with narrowed eyes.

"Listen, Tex, I know I haven't been the best boyfriend, but that was hardly necessary."

"Oh, it was very necessary!" I growled, lunging at him again. He sidestepped my attack and I almost slammed into the door. He laughed behind me and I yelled angrily, going in for another assault.

He grabbed my fist and stopped its momentum inches from his face. This caught me off guard, and the Director used the falter in my rage to take advantage of his position.

He wasn't a trained fighter, but I knew Church beat me in brute strength, so, therefore, so did the Director. He picked me up and slung me over his shoulder, laying me forcefully down on the bed. I bounced on the mattress once and placed another good punch at his chest.

He went flying across the room and skidded on the hardwood floor, panting. He scrambled back up before I could reach him, so I took my weapon out and rested it on my hip (just as Tex used to do) and gazed unblinkingly at the Director.

"I'm surprised at you," I said unsmilingly, reverting to my normal tone of voice. "You of all people would have been able to figure out that I am not Tex, Leonard."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, panting. Something had changed in his demeanor; he knew he was not dealing with his girlfriend anymore.

In his moment of confusion, I lunged at him again. He pulled a small gun out and tried to shoot me, but, still seeing Tex, he couldn't pull the trigger. He wouldn't have had time to do so, anyway—I dodged beneath the gun and swiped at it, knocking the weapon out of his hand. I threw it behind me, dropping my own weapon in the process too.

The Director gave a yell of fury that rattled the bedroom and threw a punch at me. I tried to avoid it but it grazed my already wounded arm, and I felt the skin tear again. I cried out in pain, but dodged his next punch and placed well-aimed kick at his stomach. It hit him squarely, and he fell over to the ground with a heavy thud, moaning. I rushed forward and placed handcuffs around his wrists from my utility belt. Once I had done that, I straightened up and placed my foot over his incapacitated form.

"Who—who are you?" he gasped.

I looked at him calmly and promptly removed my helmet.

"Why, my dear, I am Agent Eleven, CIA, Chief of Intraglobal Reconnaissance and Affairs. And you are under arrest."