Author's Note : So my boyfriend and I got to talking about the story, somehow Pokemon got into it, and we ended up assigning certain skills to certain Arcobaleno. It got… weirdly fitting.

Like 'Sonya used Strength. Sonya can now move boulders' fitting. Cherep used 'Recover'! Luce uses 'Future Sight'. Renato uses 'Solar Beam'. Viper uses 'Trick Room'.

...you can pretty much guess where the rest of that went…

BFN: Spoiler - *ages*

Edited (5/1/2017) - Minor story and grammar corrections.

Edit (3/23/2018) - Final formatting and minor corrections.

Edited (9/11/2018) - Minor corrections.


Russian Roulette : Reloaded

Chapter 48


(Saturday the 26th of April, 1969 continued. Mafia Land.)

A green-eyed, green haired scientist type with Lightning Flames.

Sonya didn't really start wondering until she purchased Verde a set of generic prescription reading glasses somewhat close to what he actually required. Not exactly what he needed, but at least he could now see and not be forced to squint at everything.

He picked out some round frames, and his entire general look tickled a vague memory about others Rachel once knew about who had odd coloring that matched their Flame types.

It was basically how she recognized Cherep as who he would become later on after some dubious doubting on her own end. Admittedly she had required Shamal's inclusion to recognize Renato as what he would become, but in hindsight she really should've put the Sun flames together with his curly sideburns and job title.

From what little she was sure of about the next set of Arcobaleno was that the Storm guy wore red exclusively, the Sky was an Italian Donna, the Mist was… a Mist, the Rains were soldier types, and the Lightning was a scientist that matched his natural coloring with his Flames.

It really didn't help her much that most Far East Flame users tended to match their clothing to their Flame types, something she learned from both Fong and his fellow Triad members, and Skies were such insular creatures that they rarely interacted with their own non-affiliate Flame using countrymen much less lone Flame users from other countries. The military Rains were probably two she would never be able to meet herself, at least until after Skull met them.

However….

While green eyes weren't that rare, paired with equally green hair and Lightning Flames was kind of a unique combination.

Then, of course, how many scientifically trained Lightnings in their age range could there be?

Vongola had pretty much pounded the idea that they were best used as bullet catchers and shock troopers into most of Europe's underground criminal minds. Which… with the Hardening ability it was true they had a decent defensive-oriented skill that let them absorb a lot of damage before being taken down, that couldn't mean all Lightnings were suited for that.

Kind of like the assumption prevalent about how all Suns should be healers. For some like her sister that worked, but… then there were Suns like Renato.

Verde seemed to be of the same Polarized cut, at least from what little she knew of the man over a day's acquaintance.

Lightnings were basically the people you wanted to take a stray bullet for you, because they were rather unaffected after the fact once you pulled them back to their feet. Galina had done it for her once and now the scientist had done it again.

Useful people to have around for sure, but they could be handy for more than just that alone.

Sonya puzzled over if Verde would be the Lightning Arcobaleno or not their entire flight to Mafia Land. The man in question took the opportunity to fall asleep on the second leg of their trip, if only because he had apparently spent an entire night tending to Adrik before she reached them and was pretty much badly exhausted from the events of the past two days.

If Verde really was going to be an Arcobaleno, then… that was what, three?

Four of the Arcobalenos she had met so far?

Cherep, Renato, maybe Viper, now Verde.

She still wasn't sure about the Mist, to be honest. Viper had the tattoos, the Flames, and the whole 'Esper' thing going on… but hadn't the Varia Mist been male?

…right?

Sonya had seen the other as male more than female, but Cherep had nearly defaulted to calling the Mist a 'she' in his letters home.

…so that one was still a maybe.

Verde had the window seat, because he was probably the only unarmed man on the plane and her next to him prevented anything from being started with him. The jostling of the plane landing didn't wake the man, the thief only woke him up once passengers started debarking.

She wasn't really sure if bringing the man into Mafia Land was a good idea, but it beat out just leaving him in California with criminals hunting after him. She also wasn't entirely sure if Adrik was done with the man either, but she also didn't really want to babysit a civilian with brand new criminal ties at a place like this.

Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be another option she liked.

Babysitting the scientist it was.

(ooo000ooo)

(Saturday the 26th of April, 1969 continued. Saint Julian's Hospital, Mafia Land.)

Verde could have gone years rather decently without so much as knowing a place called 'Mafia Land' existed.

His first glimpse of the island, after the suspicious and surly seeming passengers that had been on the same flight as him, was of several so-called 'mafia men and women' reloading various firearms after debarking.

Just… loitering outside of their plane, loading bullets into everything from handheld pistols to a semi-automatic rifle.

The second view he had of the place wasn't much better.

Still sore and disorientated from sleeping in an upright position with a possibly broken rib, not to mention a headache from dealing with a pair of spectacles that were only close to what he needed, he had followed the blonde Russian Bazanova into a reception area. Actually well-appointed in white marble and vaulted ceilings with the occasional two story window, professional looking staff and with quickly moving lines processing traveling records and what seemed to be IDs.

He had sort of appreciated the visage laid out right on up until Bazanova outright bribed the clerk she had been dealing with to ignore the fact he had little to nothing on him that would work as identification in this place. That bribe was split, the greater amount staying with the clerk and some of it being passed on to the guard doing a double check near what seemed to be an exit.

Nothing was said of it, the whole act merely passed along as if it was usual to bribe the officials here in plain view.

By then, he was sufficiently prepared enough to ignore the riot of different pedestrians occupying the same space in the concrete main and paved side streets here. Probably hitmen, conmen, thieves, family units, couples out on what seems to be dates, most of whom were all visibly armed.

Verde had only walked down two main streets and three side streets, and had witnessed two muggings, a possible murder, someone beating up another for unknown reasons, and yet… no one seemed to care.

It wasn't quite right to say he was greatly bothered by the violence. 'Uncaring asshole' was the nicest way anyone referred to his non-existent human empathy. He instead was alarmed that kind of thing was being done in broad daylight, which likely meant the only law in this place was up to the individuals involved.

At least he was decently equipped in that area.

Bazanova could rip iron apart, summon her own preferred weapons in a blink of an eye, probably had a reputation here, and was more or less ensuring that he was following her. As long as he remained in her presence he doubted she would allow anything too uncomfortable to happen to him, his disgruntlement over being called a 'bullet catcher' aside.

St. Julian's General Hospital turned out to be a six-story affair built in a Victorian Gothic style, built with light grey bricks with off-white stone edging. It basically looked as if it had been transplanted as a whole out of some metropolis area, as the buildings around it ran the gamut for various services from cafés to retail to even a horticulture shop in wildly different architectural styles.

More foreboding than the people on the streets was that a mortuary office and funeral parlor, built out of a tan shaded brick in a Romanesque style, was right next door.

As a matter of fact, it seemed to have its own express entrance to the hospital's basement, which was likely where the morgue was.

Verde was at least more prepared to deal with a criminal-serving hospital now that he was fully awake and had a few glances at what else this island had to offer. The fact the staff seemed to only conform to a uniform of scrubs and white coats half the time and three-piece suits on occasion was… not entirely unexpected.

While Bazanova was conversing with a woman in an impractical sundress manning what seemed to be the reception desk, he spent a moment cataloguing the various visible reasons these people had to seek medical attention.

There were the more usual suspects, as a man with a vivid rash spreading across his face or the woman that seemed to have broken her wrist, there was also an older man with a steak knife stuck clear through his forearm who had someone actually seated next to him plucking glass shards out of his own badly bleeding hand.

"One, it is not only impolite to stare… it can also be lethal here." A hand placed at his back might have been made of the iron she could tear through for all the leeway it gave the scientist before she propelled him forward. "And secondly, pay attention. Adrik's awake, but they are not sure for how long. Room one-oh-seven."

Hastening his pace to prevent more 'guidance', Verde made for the hallway indicated by his roughly maneuvered person.

Adrik was a more familiar person to him than Bazanova could possibly be after a bare full day.

Something familiar in this twisted amoral mirror of a tropical tourist trap would be welcome.

The man in question in a lavishly appointed recovery room was awake, speaking to a young teen girl dressed in red scrubs while a bespectacled older man dressed in a vest over starched shirt and trousers ensemble under a lab coat overlooked what she was writing down.

"Miss Bazanova, I've a bone to pick with you." Spoke the probable doctor as he entered with the named woman just behind him, sliding those half-moon glasses up his sharply bladed nose. "A word, please?"

The Russian merely glanced at him, then spoke a spiel of her native language to Adrik. She waited until he stumbled over something in return before given the supposed doctor a nod.

"Doctor Kappel, Verde here requires some blood tests to be sure he didn't pick up what Adrik got."

"And a possibly broken rib." He tacked on himself, wondering how he was to pay for medical aid.

He had the money, just in a bank account. Which, sans his wallet, left him rather divorced from his inheritance and any identification to prove he was the owner of said account.

Kappel spoke something sharpish himself to the young nurse, then followed the woman out of the hospital room.

Adrik coughed a little painfully-sounding, then cleared his throat a little awkwardly. "Shit… well, welcome to Mafia Land?"

"Are you addled?" Verde was honestly interested, because in this place he was so out of his depth it wasn't remotely amusing.

"Erm… low grade fever." The Russian he was only faintly acquainted with defended himself weakly, flopping a hand listlessly to the bed he was reclining upon. "There's an infection in my blood, apparently. And to make it worse they're using an experimental set of drugs on me. It's working… but I'm kind of fuzzy right now. Best part about this hospital, cutting edge medical advancements. Bad, well… we're the ones used as guinea pigs for human testing."

"While fascinating," and it was in a way, "I must inquire as to why I was brought here."

A tug on Verde's possibly-stolen but definitely not his shirt sleeve redirected his attention to the young red-clad nurse, who held medical implements to do the testing Bazanova had ordered.

Said nurse spoke in a trill of what he was coming to recognize as likely Russian, which Adrik helpfully translated for him.

"Avdotya want you to remove your shirt. And, as to your question, it's possible Sonya thinks I still have business with you. Which I do," pressing himself upright into a sitting position that earned him an alarmed yelp from the young nurse, "dude… where is our homework?"

"Quite possibly still in a San Jose's alleyway… and likely placed in the trash, not returned to the campus, if it had been picked up in the first place."

"…well, fuck."


(Sunday the 27th of April, 1969. Zolotov Condo, Mafia Land.)

Verde… wasn't quite how Sonya had expected him to probably be.

"No, no, no. It is willpower, you can will it to spark."

He was quite obviously a civilian, or at least painfully green to the whole criminal thing if no longer qualifying for the label 'civilian', but at least that much had been expected when Galina sent her out after him and Adrik.

A gawky nerd kind of guy, more interested in his studies than earthly concerns. Very reserved, very dry wit, and an inclination to wait to judge until he had all the facts when you got his attention.

"That makes little sense."

She knew that much pretty well now, given the man was using her room while she bunked with Tatiana until Adrik was more available to help him figure out what to do now. Nudging the man out of her book collection in order to eat usually fell to her, given the Sun nurse's electing working hours.

"Not want, not demand, not desire, it is will. Dying Will Flames." Bjǫrn picked up his own tiny cut gem of white sapphire to give another demonstration. "Watch. I will it to spark."

Aside that mostly just ignorant fumbling that would wear off after he knew more and was more comfortable, the scientist took the opportunity to pick Bjǫrn's brain about being a Lightning while she was in the process of translating a French version of her Lightning notes.

"What is the difference? Exactly?" Verde gave his own larger chip of white sapphire a frustrated look. "I require more information."

Sonya had also took the opportunity to update her copy of the master research journal if she was copying out a section anyways, which had attracted said new Lightning's attention like a lodestone. Not even the few stories she had on Dying Will Flames in French or English had distracted the man.

"Think of… what you will do. You will be… what? It is kind of personal, but I sparked when I vowed to be useful to my Dama. She saved me from a beating, and I wished to return that assistance to the only person to interfere with my life in a positive way."

Sitting at the kitchen table of their condo suite, with a highly curious Lightning hovering over her shoulder even if he couldn't read the parts she hadn't translated for him, was a little annoying.

"...resolve?"

Verde did have the self-awareness enough to keep his mouth shut while she was working, but when she wasn't translating things for him he tended to pose a volume of questions to her in rapid progression. It was worse than initial instruction of Shamal, when the little brat had rambled his questions about anything and everything she said and how she said it.

"Um… yeah, maybe? Try, all that will happen at worst is that it will not work."

Sonya found the man kind of reckless, in his search and consumption of her research efforts. Otherwise, when he was occupied with something else once Bjǫrn chased him off her case, Verde was at most disinterested in anything that wasn't written down.

Aside the other Flame users he could get to.

She wasn't the only one subjected to a massive list of questions, each of the Russian Flame using nurses that he came across when visiting Adrik we exposed to the same if at a lesser rate. Sonya was tasked with translating for them if they couldn't speak English themselves.

She didn't so much mind that, the conversations were at least interesting and helped her adjust the pre-nurse course for the other Zolotov Flame users due to join their few fellows… including Kappel's complaint over the language mastery of the new nurses.

Adrik cringed every time he saw her, since he owed her for taking care of the man that saved his life until he could do it himself to repay the favor. Anything on top of that… including handling the Dying Will Flame beginning instruction, translating on demand, sending her Lackey out for clothing and necessities the scientist needed, were things he had to pay her back for.

She might owe Verde something like consideration for the whole bullet catching thing, but she was reduced to pretty much acting as the scientist's bodyguard for the time being and that canceled part of that out.

Tatiana was just highly amused at the whole situation, helping very little to curb their temporary flat-mate's attentions. Not even for an old gang mate would she take Verde on temporarily, for one she didn't have the free time to escort the Lightning around a criminal city like Mafia Land and another her job sometimes had her running off at odd times.

It was pretty much what Viper walked into, coming to fetch her Lackey to continue his financial education.

"Mist?" Verde echoed after Bjǫrn obeyed the Esper's curt demand to know what he was bothering with instead of the tasks he set him. "May I ask-"

"No. I'm being paid to teach that moron, not answer questions." Adjusting his cowl, the miserly Mist snapped his fingers to get Sonya's Lackey to jump to it. "Hurry it up so I can finish and move on."

Scrambling for the discarded parts of his now-usual suit, the Icelander gave the scientist a hasty shrug. "Viper's… ah, Viper's not interested if you can't pay. Cash."

"I will be unavailable come June and July," Sonya informed the other absently as her Lackey scrambled around and Verde pondered something, "and I must ask you to stop using me as a threat."

"I've never directly used you as such." Viper responded with audible amusement, a wicked looking smirk crawling up the visible part of his face. "Those assumptions occurred on their own."

The thief snorted. "I suppose then it would be a bit much to ask you to stop… encouraging the assumption?"

A shrug was her answer. "I'll refute the rumors. After I have what I'm after."

Probably the best she could hope for.

Bjǫrn scrambled back into the main living room of the sister's condo suite, a freshly ironed suit jacket in hand and his tie loosely draped around his neck. Only to be jerked to a halt by a lacey Construct of something around his legs as Viper advanced on his hapless student to yank harshly on his beard. "This… is not professional. Remove it."

Verde eyed the Lackey's bound legs curiously.

Sonya kind of wondered what he was thinking, ignoring the look her Icelandic aid shot to her. "Viper would know, Bjǫrn. And given how much I'm paying out, I highly doubt he's giving bad advice."

Besides, she had yet to get used to his beard. It was not something she saw often, massive facial hair.

While Bjǫrn's person was his own, she had no standards for how he looked or dressed while carrying out tasks in her name, she was currently sharing him with the Mist and it was possible he did.

Before she could return her attention to her book or put it away and pick up Verde's lesson from where her Lackey had abandoned it, the man in question turned to her curiously. "What are you costing me?"

A disgusted scoff came from Viper, either from the scientist's inquiry or from whatever defense Bjǫrn managed to muster for his beard. It was kind of hard to tell. The only-sometimes male Mist gave another sharp yank to the Icelandic teen's beard then turned on a heel to stalk out of the condo. "Catch up once you removed that face-rug. Sonya, another two weeks or so and I might call it good."

"Noted." She spoke to the Esper's back, waving off her Lackey when he looked to her for either dismissal or support. "Hurry it up, Bjǫrn."

Returning her attention to the scientist, the thief kind of wondered herself about his question.

"Adrik will pay me back for most of it. Except this teaching thing to get access to your Flames, that you do owe me something for." She started honestly enough. "Bringing you here was on someone else, so that much is not something you need to worry about. You did save me the hassle of a gunshot wound, so I do not mind putting up with you until you have other options. As Adrik claims you saved his life during one of your confrontations with the Cerrito Crime Family, Tatiana does not mind either."

"…and getting access to your book on these Dying Will Flames?" Verde questioned a bit more intently, as he had been after all of it since the moment he knew it existed. "What if I dislike the idea of relying on Adrik's aid to get out of your debt?"

"Explain." Sonya demanded sharply, abandoning her book on the coffee table set out before the sofa she was sprawled on.

She had enough people so far, frankly.

She had almost all of Tatiana's former gang, temporarily but they were still 'under her'. Adrik she wouldn't greatly impose on out of respect to her older sister's relations to the guy, so by the time Ziven would likely seek out Nikolai she'd dissolve whatever else the man owed her by then.

Galina would do whatever she'd like when that time came.

Scruffy and Bjǫrn were more than one thief needed, really. She had things they could aid her with, but only one of them was useful as her Lackey. Peter McScruffy was more of a personal thing, if he stuck it out with her long enough instead of wandering off or getting into trouble she might start tasking him with more important things to do with the research than just pitching in as a warm body.

"I want access to the rest of your information. The parts you have not made available to me."

"I know."

However, that was a risk she couldn't justify. Especially not if she was going to abstain from putting the scientist under her thumb.

Yeah, the man was possibly the greatest Lightning of their generation… but being owed a favor from Adrik wasn't enough to make her more comfortable in blindly handing over the entire compilation of data she had on a possible maybe that he might end up working with Cherep.

Sonya was even starting to limit what information made it into the clan's copy of her research journal, to prevent all of it getting out through inter-clan political mishandling. Galina did wonderfully in limiting the scope that was basically given away, but the Storm-Cloud was still holding a kind of grudge against that situation.

She might not mind handing the relevant parts to the people that could make use of that information, they would normally give back a bit or more for that favor. However, even the thought of handing the bulk of that kind of information to those that wouldn't or couldn't make use of it made her thief-self baulk, much less allowing someone she had no control or connections to pursue the entire thing.

The more that was added, the more the research was worth. Which… well, she was a thief. If someone else was getting their hands on the work she did or contributed to, then she had better be getting paid the worth of it.

Speaking of, she was running out of loose cash to cover yet another dependent. Bjǫrn and Viper were taking up the funds she had from contract running, and Peter McScruffy was living off the funds she had tried to set aside for her and the people that looked to her dues with the Zolotovs.

Verde's evenly toned voice drew her out of her thoughts. "Is that a refusal?"

"…I highly doubt you can afford that." Sonya insisted, pushing herself upright to stand and distract the man with finishing his lessons on managing to spark Lightning Flames through a piece of white sapphire.

As he had a combat-awakening, the most common way most came into their Dying Will, he had to put a lot of effort into duplicating his initial use of Flames or managing even a bit of control over voluntary usage.

"Furthermore," she continued as she took Bjǫrn's abandoned spot across the dining table from him, "you should first ensure you are not getting in over your head."

"Far too late for that." Observed the man tartly, picking up the stone that showed only a tiny fracture on one facet after three days of straight work on it. "My presence here alone should suggest that I am already out of my depth."

"It can get worse."

About to snap something back, probably a facetious 'how', the Lightning actually paused and looked around the condo he was currently living out of free-of-cost. Which was a far cry from a bare basement cellar he and Adrik had been imprisoned within when she found them.

"…I will give you that point."

Sonya picked up the stone Bjǫrn had been using as an example, but before she could start in on helping Verde figure out a reliable way to pull on his nearly unresponsive Lightning Flames Tatiana's bedroom door slammed open.

The nurse, who had finished a third-shift stint not a few hours ago, her pager clutched in one fist as she staggered into the open room. "Adrik relapsed."

"What?" Verde twisted around to fully see the rumpled Sun searching for her shoes. "I thought-"

"I don't know yet." Tatiana snapped at him irritably, straightening up with a tennis shoe in hand to rub at her left eye tiredly. "It could be anything from the medication not finishing off the infection completely or him getting sick from something major while his immune system was compromised or something we haven't even thought of. The lab should almost be done with the cultures, so we should know more in a few hours at most. Don't bother visiting today."

Having said her piece, the nurse hopped a little to pull on the shoe she didn't have on and left without so much as greeting her little sister.

"Verde." Sonya spoke up after a moment, glancing down to the stone in his hand when he shot her an irritable glance. "Anger or frustration is not the best way to reach this level."

The man instinctively released the green sparking stone, which cracked straight through the middle after it hit the tabletop. Eying his left hand, and the impression the rock had made on his fingers when he clenched it, the scientist poked the broken stone curiously.

"It took Bjǫrn a damn near month of steady work on it to accomplish that, with an invasion on top of everything. Congrats, you're apparently stronger than my Lackey."

Verde shot her a wary look. "…I will probably regret this, but… invasion?"

"This is Mafia Land." Sonya reminded him. "Every now and again, someone thinks about taking over the island and ruling themselves or changing one of the long-standing policies."

"How often does that happen?"

"Invasion attempts? Anywhere from once or twice every few months, if a coalition of groups get together might get up to bi-weekly or even more. How often has someone been successful in actually taking over?" Digging out a new white sapphire for him, the thief slid it across the table with a shrug. "It has happened. Last time the Italian criminal superpower Vongola took over for two weeks and banned the drug trade from being allowed to pass through here. That was… almost thirty years ago."

Han-yue, the sisters' Fut Gar instructor, would talk more to Tatiana than Sonya. However, she had lived on the island for almost forty years since it was officially opened up as a vacation destination.

The Korean woman had been initially brought in as an enforcer for one of the long-gone hostess establishments and managed to secure a job teaching the island's residents self-defense after it fell.

It provided the Storm-Cloud more motivation and patience in getting the old bitch to regard her less as a threat and more as just any other student. She wanted those stories.

"Now, try that again. Without getting frustrated or shocked or getting irritated." Lightly flicking the stone placed on the table so it would hit him in the chest, the thief prepared herself for a few solid hours of likely answering a spread of yet more questions. "Do not be surprised if it takes you even longer than this last attempt. It is generally how this part goes."

(ooo000ooo)

(Sunday the 27th of April, 1969 continued. Socialist Republic of Croatia.)

"No."

"Lal-"

"Stop calling me that." Lieutenant Commander Lalia Murgia snapped over one shoulder near-reflexively, at the blond man who was proving to be both infuriatingly persistent and gallingly competent at his job. "We're not conceding. There is a way to win this, without losing half or more of the troops."

The Socialist Republic of Croatia's military had the better position and the advantage of home ground, as they had the lesser numbers and were more inexperienced than COMSUBIN. As Defiant Seed's operating procedures stated, her mission was leading a mix of trainees and a speckle of seasoned soldiers through a Croatian defended front to a designated field outside of the city of Šibenik.

Lalia did not intend to let some near-brand new upstart Soviet state beat her even ill-trained selection of COMSUBIN forces. They were good, yes… but she and COMSUBIN was better.

She had to use the better trained soldiers to get their lesser competent fellows through the defended zone, that much she couldn't change. If she left the rookies in charge they'd likely go harrying off to do something stupid like storm a fully defended base out of misguided heroism.

For the same reason she couldn't task the more competent enlisted with other duties, they were needed to provide the better example to follow and supply needed situational support if things went wrong.

Then there was her squad, which was peppered with a generous helping of both rookies and leaders… and one very annoying blond sniper.

Looking around the command tent they had been issued, one of three tents allotted for COMSUBIN force's use during the war games, Lalia contemplated the assets she had to work with.

Two Sergeants who were decent cavalry scouts, a Lieutenant communications officer, a Chief Marshal pulling duty as her field commander, three Chief Corporal-Majors, six fresh-faced soldiers… and that sniper that irritated the hell out of her.

"This is what we're going to do. The men will go up the west bank of the Krka River, well past the city of Šibenik, then cross the river and double back to reach our end-goal. Chief Marshal, your job is to keep them together and keep their heads down. Take the scouts with you to help navigate, duck into the river if you need the cover, but get the men up there before dawn tomorrow." Turning to the lone Lieutenant, she eyed the short-wave radios one of the other rookies and the blond recruit had somehow acquired for him. "Your job is to keep pace and call in anyone threatening either flank or any barricades to my group. Take two of the rookies to help you cover the needed space."

That left her with four more wet-behind-the-ears soldiers and that one she was pretty sure was suicidal.

Lalia was good with a semi-automatic rifle, but she had to admit Cornello Grillo was better with a long-range rifle than her. If he somehow survived this without her putting a bullet through his head, then she'd maybe recommend him for a fast-track officer's commission.

It might be what the annoyingly cheerful sniper was after, but she intended to personally ensure he regretted ever entertaining ambitions in COMSUBIN. Especially for flirting with her the first time they met and keeping up with it after being brushed off.

…although she had to admit throwing things at his head when he hit on her was a wonderful stress-relieving, but she could spend time on a firing range for about the same effect. Except for times like now, when there wasn't a range around.

"You five… we're going to provide a distraction." Even if Lalia got captured, as long as the bulk of her forces reached the target point she would still win.

She didn't intend to get captured, but the possibility was there.

Hopefully hit-and-run tactics would pull scrutiny off the main host of her forces, letting them slip by without too much action.

As it was the last stretch of this war game, she didn't find joining the field at this late date was that risky. Her forces had managed to get themselves off the island they had been airlifted to without alerting the opposition quickly, managed getting up the coast and all but the last twenty-five kilometers as a cohesive unit, until they ran into the 'defiant' part of the game.

"What do we have to spare, Chief Marshal?"

"Two Beretta Modellos, enough Mannlicher M-one-eight-nine-fives to give at least one to each of you, and Private Grillo's non-standard Fucile Armaguerra Model thirty-nine." The older man actually sounded amused as he tacked on the blond rookie's preferred rifle he lugged around everywhere with him. "Five smoke grenades are left, an entire box of flares, and two binoculars. The rest I require to give the men field experience."

"That's fine." Lalia could just about make off with that one crate of flares and manage on her own… but this was to give the lesser trained soldiers more useable experience in a mostly-friendly military operation. "As soon as the sun sets, set the men on the march. Get things started, people."

Planting the butt of his ever-present rifle on the floor, the blond annoying the ever-loving hell out of her joined her uninvited in watching the controlled chaos kicked into gear at her dismissal. "You know, Lal… if you wanted to take a moonlight walk with me, you only had to ask."

…she would not shoot the asshole until she was given the green light to torture the idiot to turn him into a COMSUBIN-grade officer. He would regret every damn time he had the gall to hit on her.

Pressing her lips together, the Lieutenant Commander gave the irritant a pleasant smirk instead of using the butt of her service piece to smack that sly look off his face.

"I would highly suggest you invest in some good body armor." She informed the man, looking for something to pitch in with and getting even more frustrated when she found nothing that needed an extra pair of hands.


(Monday the 28th of April, 1969. Socialist Republic of Croatia.)

Lalia crept through the sparse ground cover with two of her squad, picking their way through past two patrolling squads of Croatians.

One of her soldiers was carrying a good two dozen of the spare flares, and Grillo was using his scope instead of needing one of their binoculars to scan the ground up ahead.

Her other four men were set up to ambush a patrol once oh-one-thirty rolled around, meaning they had less than fifteen minutes to get into a position to create a distraction that would hopefully let them disengage and head for the spot she had picked for a rendezvous.

"…two, on the far side." Grillo reported as she scaled a lone tree for the height. "Gap looks like… three minutes at best."

Checking his estimation herself, the Lieutenant Commander had to admit he had a good sense for timing the speed of patrols. Given their collective speed, or what should be their speed to stealthily cross a field, they should be able to make it. "Right, leapfrog across the field in sequence. Run fifteen seconds, wait for the other two to hit, wait thirty before running your next stretch, until we hit the closer corner. If they look this way field crawl instead on your own judgement. Go."

The sniper dashed off first, and the soldier holding their flares counted down the seconds under his breath nervously. Making a mental note he was a little fast, Lalia put her boots on the ground as he darted off himself.

Taking a moment to be sure if she moved she wouldn't be spotted, the COMSUBIN officer followed her soldiers on. She hit the ground a little hard the first time, misjudging how much give it would have this far away from the Krka River.

The sniper purposely held his position a bit longer than she appreciated but ducked the last sweep the pair gave before leaving the side of the base they were assaulting. As the soldier behind him went too quickly, it evened out enough so that Lalia was the one that had to duck the next patrol.

Crawling forward on her stomach and dragging her lower body across dirt and grass was just as uncomfortable as she remembered it, but she reached the wall just after the patrol passed her. Hauling herself to a crouched position revealed Grillo was closer than his fellow, and it only took them seconds to reassemble themselves to actually sneak into the selected base.

"Now what?"

Lalia double-checked to be sure she had the rubber rounds loaded in her service pistol. "Now? We storm the base and plant those flares in a… tank. Or something else large and attention getting."

"Can we steal the tank instead?" Grillo had copied her in double checking his rifle, even if it was still probably lethal at close enough range and flashed her a cheeky grin as he crept past the two of them to take the forward position.

Leveling a glare at the back of the sniper's head, the Lieutenant Commander held in her temper because shooting now would just give their position away.

If he tried that… she was going to run him over with the tank.

Her now weirdly calm flare carrying soldier looked between her and the sniper, then quietly snuck off after the other man.

(ooo000ooo)

(Monday the 28th of April, 1969 continued. Zolotov Condo, Mafia Land.)

"Adrik is very lucky we get a discount these days." Tatiana informed both Sonya and Verde tiredly over the dinner table, picking over the ribollita soup the thief had picked up instead of try cooking that night. "Appendicitis on top of the blood poisoning and, since we only treated the infection and not the appendix issues, it worsened to acute appendicitis until Kappel ordered more x-rays and caught it."

The scientist, who had not been happy to be dragged out of the book he had selected that day for after his Flame lessons for something as trite as dinner, looked up from his own listless poking of their food. "…so, did that occur when we were being assaulted?"

"It's possible. It wasn't on the first set of x-rays, but we weren't inspecting his guts just his bones then." Pausing to swallow a spoonful of the thick vegetable soup, the nurse gave him a shrug. "Entirely subjective if it happened before or after being admitted."

"He requires surgery then?" Sonya asked, really not that interested in Adrik's medical worries.

Not because she didn't really care about the guy, she did as long as Tatiana did, but because if anyone could make the man healthy again it was Kappel and her sister.

"Had it." The Sun informed her between her next bites of the soup. "On antibiotics again, he should get better now and stay that way. Hopefully. Unless something else happens to set him back."

The Storm-Cloud might care, but she didn't care that much. Now completely disinterested in the conversation involving her sister's old gang member, she ignored the questions Tatiana posed to Verde in hopes of narrowing down exactly when the Russian's appendix gave out.

"Nya? Hello?"

Pausing with a spoon in her mouth, the thief looked back up from her portion of dinner.

Tatiana gave her a wan smile. "Can you scrape up the money for Adrik's hospital bills as well? I know you picked up Verde's and Adrik owes you that as well, but I can't cover the entirety of it myself. We'll pay you back… just later."

…mother fucker.

Sonya stabbed the vegetables left in the bottom of her bowl a few times, trying to remember how much she had free for random things and how much of that her Lackey had gone through under Viper. Good thing she planned on another spree, with the rate she was going through her funds she would need it to not end up broke again.

"…I think I can. If anything, I can take some of the money I have set aside for my dues and Bjǫrn's and replace it later."

"Thanks, Nya. I'll ensure he pays you back quickly."

"What happens if you are unable to pay?" Verde inquired to the nurse curiously.

Tatiana laughed weakly, spoon paused halfway to her lips. "Trust me, you don't want to know. We can piece you back together, but… doctors can be surprisingly bloodthirsty too. Especially when they feel they aren't appreciated very well."

"I don't think that happens very often." It was the first time she had heard of it, and the thief couldn't recall if anyone she had ever saw on the island had been rumored to have tried to stiff the hospital on a bill.

"Mostly during invasions, when the bill collectors get a bit overworked." Confided the nurse as a matter of fact, waving her spoon about as she talked. "Most of the people here have the kinds of funds saved to pay even a towering hospital bill, or their syndicates will pick up the tab. But those just visiting, and those sent in to try taking over the island, are different stories."

The scientist glanced to the doorway that connected to the rest of the floor the Zolotov Clan owned. "Would your syndicate not pay for Adrik?"

"Erm… maybe? Adrik's not done much but pay the minimum dues for the last couple years. And… he got injured and sick while on his own time. It would be different if it was me or Nya, so… possibly not. I'd rather not risk it."

"Wait… why am I different?" Sonya interrupted, confused.

She knew why Tatiana was, the healer closest to getting her doctor's license was something any organization would shell out the cash to keep in good health.

"Nya, sweetie. Really?" Flashing a smirk at her younger sister the nurse dropped her spoon to her empty bowl, so she could serve herself seconds. "With the work you do, and the importance of your Dying Will Flame research, the clan would likely pay any of the reasonable bills you might rack up. Especially if it would cement their hold on your ass."

Verde suddenly dropped his own spoon into the half-full bowl of his own. "So that is your own work? The journal you transcribed me a passage on Lightning Flames from?"

"…mine and a few others." Sonya confirmed warily, shoot her sister an annoyed look for spilling that apple cart. "I can only use Storm and Cloud, so I had to find others to write in the others."

"Whoops." Was Tatiana's entirely unapologetic comment, getting up with her second bowl of soup to escape the likely conversation that would happen now. "You know someone would mention it eventually, Nya."

Beating a hasty retreat, the nurse ducked out of the room to likely finish her food and go back to sleep now that the emergency that called her out was over.

The thief decided to go back to eating instead of pay attention to the increasingly pointed glare being aimed at her from the scientist.

"Why will you not supply the rest of it to me?"

"…mainly? I want to see where you go without it." Sonya admitted flatly, shooting the man an irritated look of her own. "We, and I mean the Zolotov Clan, are not going to hold onto you. For one, only I have any kind of hold on you and I do not feel like dragging you into that. For another, I think you can do more on your own than get into the work already done."

Verde looked suddenly less ticked off at least, but annoyance was still painted across his features. "And how do you postulate I can do so? I only hold these Lightning Flames, according to the exercises you have tasked me to accomplish."

Abandoning her own only half-finished dinner, the thief pushed her food away and crossed her arms under her chest. "By finding other French Flame users. I have contacts in Italy that would likely have good intelligence on the syndicates of France. Once Adrik is back on his feet, I have a month of contracts to run then I am due in Italy for personal reasons. I can ask for well-known syndicates and what they're involved in, you and Adrik can pick through them for one you can join for the protection."

"You sound sure Adrik would do so. We have only known each other for a few months."

"You saved his life, Verde. Or at least Adrik thinks so. To balance that out, him helping you find someplace you can thrive not just survive is not that much of a stretch." She had no information but the children's stories on Dying Will Flames from France, and since he was a native son Verde would be a lot less suspicious when asking around.

"If you wish to see where I go with the information, then I still require the basics of all the types." Verde concluded shrewdly, pressing the finally correct prescription glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You would also require frequent checks on my progress."

"You are not exactly in any position to negotiate here." Sonya pointed out shortly, even if the asshole had a point. "But I will give you that I will need to supply the barest basics of the other types and keep in contact. Eventually."

"Your proposed experiment is already contaminated," pointed out the scientist blandly, "you allowed me to converse with the Russian trained users of Dying Will, from your sister to the other nurses in the hospital. Some of whatever I would eventually conclude would be based somewhat on the information I gained through speaking with them."

"You will also have to make it through the Italians' views on Dying Will Flame users that will likely try to influence your own findings." She countered, getting steadily more irritated with both the man and the whole topic. "There are reams of misinformation you will have to work through in order to find the true facts, validate or discard old superstitions, attempt to replicate legends, and the widespread misconceptions that are only partially true because certain users believe they are. I am not interested in anything but confirmation for the basics I have, I am more interested in the direction you go in to make use of it all."

"…you know, most scientist are given grants to research into various topics."

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

"In light of the services rendered already, I can agree to both the aims and directions you have posed." Verde concluded with a very irritating self-satisfied smirk, pushing away from the kitchen table to likely wander back to her books given for scientist distraction while he was waiting for Adrik to get out of the hospital. "I will await a basic copy of the universal facts about each type of Dying Will Flames, as well as a list of suggestions for French criminal syndicates."

"I am pretty sure I am supposed to be the thief here. And I did not agree to that." Leaving the table herself, she'd put away the leftovers in a bit or take it to the vory also on this floor for them to finish off, Sonya hurried after the man. "What each Flame is known for, physical descriptions, possible personality types that are known to show certain Flames when they pop, and the few ways each we have found that one may kill themselves via them."

Stopping short just before her room, which was technically his for the time being, the Lightning turned around to face her again. "I will also need to know what the views of Italy's criminal syndicates are, as well as your own Soviet Union's views, in order to test both. All of it."

"You have adapted to this whole criminal cut-throat business rather quick." Sonya observed dryly. "You can probably gain Italy's view on the subject easily, and if you continue in the vein you already have you will likely acquire my motherland's. Only after you have decided you have the basics will I supply the version we have discovered for comparison."

"I learn quickly." Was Verde's dry observation, before the man shrugged. "I can agree to those terms. Now, how much will you pay me for this?"

"You are really pushing your luck. If I was not the one responsible for your continued good health…"

"Indeed, I am aware of that. But as this will provide me and possibly Adrik leeway for choosing my next move as carefully as dealing with criminal groups require, I feel I must be reckless to obtain the best position possible."

Thinking about it critically, the thief had to admit he might have a point. Not that she quite appreciated it but having a commission under his belt would make him a bit more desirable over even his Lightning Flames.

It would be a real waste if Verde got tasked to soaking up bullets in high-risk situations. He'd be good for it, once he got voluntary control over his Flames, but again it wasn't what he was probably best for.

She had to check, but she was pretty sure Renato introducing her around Vongola's top echelon as a Soviet Flame Expert might actually help the Frenchman in getting a more science-orientated role instead of a combat one.

"Twenty-five thousand, francs."

"Eighty thousand, euros. I've seen the prices around here."

Sonya paused, because yet again he had a point. Everything was more expensive in tourist traps, and Mafia Land wasn't quite that different. "Forty. I will not have the money until the end of the month, but you may remain on my tab until you leave."

Verde weighted that for a long moment himself. "Sixty, as it is I will be heading right into another criminal commune with inflated prices until I establish myself."

"Fifty, and I expect priority if I ever pose an inquiry to you."

"That should go without saying." After another moment of consideration, the man gave her a sharp nod and held out a hand. "Agreed. I look forward to working with you, mademoiselle Bazanova."

Giving him a rather sharp smile of her own, the thief gripped his hand hard enough he winced. "Charmed and call me Sonya."

Extracting his likely smarting hand from her grip, the scientist gave a rather strained looking smile back. "Gilles Verninac."

"I do not care." She tossed over her shoulder, intending to have words with her elder sister before the nurse could pretend to sleep on her. "But I will advise you to remain with 'Verde' for security reasons. Those like me can hunt your family and hometown through full names."

"…understood."

(ooo000ooo)

(Monday the 28th of April, 1969 continued. Istanbul, Republic of Turkey.)

Cherep coughed painfully, feeling a few of his ribs snap back into place at the harsh jarring movement.

Fifteen or twenty more seconds before he could move his upper body without too much pain.

That was a sensation he had not missed in the years between getting kidnapped and being taken in by Lisa and Arseniy. Kind of made him wonder why he kept risking himself by doing stunts that might end up hurting like this but knew full well the next time he succeeded the high and cheers would make it worth the aches.

Thankfully, it seemed as if his shoulder was only dislocated now, not completely broken in a few places.

Of course, it would be the weekend show after Viper left when he messed up again and the Mist couldn't help distract from the admittedly terrible crash that ruined another motorcycle on him. At least he wouldn't have to pay the Esper as well as replace Betsy.

The stuntman had thought he could regain control of a ballistic bike after the rear wheel had clipped the hoop he had been jumping through, so he hadn't released his grip and dropped to the safety net Master Liam had insisted to supply for his shows. Turned out to be a very bad idea, and he could now confidently say shoulder checking the ground at nearly fifty kilometers per hour hurt like hell.

He'd need another meter of ramp at least before trying that one again.

Another deep breath didn't make his diaphragm twinge in agony again, so the undying Cloud got up to deal with his dislocated shoulder. Belatedly recalling the last time he had to reset his own shoulder socket, he probed his collar bone to ensure that wasn't broken as well.

"Ah… Skull. You have… visitors." Claimed the circus master from outside the performers' tent where the stuntman had been set to recover from his latest crash. "These gentlemen are… ah…"

Knowing criminal types and how they postured themselves when they had something to prove, Cherep was totally unsurprised two rather muscular men forced their way into the tent without Liam ever giving them permission to. Eyeing each of them in turn, the Cloud slowly reached up to clutch his right shoulder and suddenly wrenched it back into place with a sickening sounding pop.

"How can the Great Skull help you two?" He drawled in his best 'Skull' voice, which Viper had helped him make as arrogant and shallow sounding as his vocal cords allowed. "I'm afraid autographs are at least two euros each, gentlemen."

The beefier of the two merely eyed him severely, but his rat-faced companion gave a greasy-looking smile. "Oh, while we might be fans of your shows… we're not here for autographs."

"The after-party isn't until later morning then, if you wanted to go drinking with a great stuntman like I." Sniffing, half pompously and half to prevent a likely nosebleed from having his head rattled hard spring up and make him even more suspiciously healthy after a bad crash, Cherep flicked his wrist and placed his other hand on his hip. "Other than that, I couldn't begin to guess what two people like you would want with the Great Skull de Mort."

"That was a really nasty crash, de Mort." The rat-faced of the pair, which to be honest wasn't really rodent looking but it made the stuntman feel better even if it was petty, insisted ambling a few steps forward deeper into the tent. "It's surprising you're standing there looking perfectly fine."

Deny or distract?

"Death hates me." Skull decided on in a split second, taking any longer would just stroke their suspicions and he was a showman. "Aside that little bone of contention, I will admit the Great Skull is a lucky bastard when it comes to stunts going wrong."

Thank the Lord bruises weren't covered by his abilities, he had more than enough to show in order to throw off these two. Holding his right arm low and stiff, the Cloud stuntman awkwardly peeled off his leather jacket to finish checking himself over for anything too out of the place so his Flames could finish knitting himself back together.

Broken bones were harder to spot through skin than bruises, so it was the lesser risk.

"Nasty." Observed the bigger man blandly, in a voice that was hilariously a few octaves higher than Skull had assumed such a big guy would speak in.

"You! Are awesome. The Great Skull has changed his mind. We're going drinking, now." Abandoning his riding leathers, the stuntman snatched up the tee-shirt he had been wearing before gearing up for his show and ignored his face was still caked with purple makeup. "How do you feel about stunts and circus acts?"

"Skull… a word before you go harrying off?" Liam posed from the tent's flaps in a perfectly pitched tone halfway between disproving and concern, not a hit of the worry that had to be running through the circus master's mind. "And what would your doctor say?"

"Not to mix my medicine." Tatiana would cut out the middleman and murder him herself once or twice if he tried something so stupid. "Besides, alcohol works just as much as these pills to dull pain."

It was true, just not something Skull required very often. The lingering pain was dulling down to a manageable and ignorable level and getting these two drunker than skunks would make anything they said seem exaggerated and possibly not true when they reported back to wherever.

"But sure. Gentlemen? Give me a moment, then we'll hit up whichever bar is the closest."

He got a suspicious eyeball from the rat-faced of the pair, but big beefy was mollified by Skull's enthusiasm over his admittedly jarring natural voice to shoo the man on to hopefully get that drink with someone that appreciated that feature.

Entirely likely he had been harassed for that before, especially by his slimy partner. He seemed the type to tear down even his 'backup' just because.

Liam switched from the circus' official language of his native German to Cherep's Czech. "Cherep, should you…?"

"Running is worse and trying to hide anything will just provoke them to dig deeper." Reassured the Cloud in the same language, rolling his sore shoulders to get his shirt on now that he wasn't being eyeballed for supernatural immunity to pain or damage. "You know this is the best option of the bad ones, Master Liam. I'll be fine, I know how they work."

"By possibly getting drunk with two men suspicious of you?" Liam questioned in a desert-dry dubious tone of voice. "Yes, wonderful plan my young friend. If your younger sister asks, I protested this course of action."

"I'll be sure to mention your vigorous protests to her if the subject ever comes up." Clapping the man on the shoulder, the stuntman gave him a backward wave. "Besides, Jaq taught me a few tricks to make it look like I'm drinking more than I should while only really downing half or less of it."