Note: Chapters one and two will be short, chapter three will be LOADS longer. Pleases bare with me.

Chapter 2

Two Weeks Later…

Max had found a letter in the mail addressed to him the night before.

Dear Max,

Please read below for information (because that's obvious) relating to your newly selected partner, Kevin Pier, one of the men you trained with before. Kevin has been found to be the ideal partner after intensive observation of the two of you in training. He has chosen to be called by the codename Pyre. (Lame and makes no sense.) After a detailed background check and analysis of your service record and his, it has been determined via an executive decision that Kevin would be the ideal partner for you. His service record reads wonderfully, just like yours. (Well, I personally like it. Think you're a kiss-up, but I like it.) Come on Saturday morning at 9:00 a.m. (Wouldn't blame you if you tried to sleep in and skip. I probably will. Recruits are inspected by Rios, but God knows he'll demand that I show up.) That way, we can get everything sorted out. (Because yes, we do work on Saturdays, unfortunately for me.)

Sincerely,

Elliot Salem

T.W.O. Co-Founder

P.S. Rios is watching over my shoulder as I write this. He stopped me several times for "unprofessional writing". I can't believe him sometimes.

Max returned to the headquarters some two weeks later. He had selected a mask with a triskelion on the red background where his forehead was and two three-legged logos of the Isle of Man on either side of his mask.

Manx walked up to the receptionist's desk.

"Okay. I'll tell him. Understood," The receptionist said. "Then you have yourself a nice day, sir."

Faster than a bullet train going downhill, she turned to the masked visitor before her. He lifted up his mask and smiled. Best to be polite now. The receptionist looked at him and noticed the strong young man that stood before her.

"Can I help you with anything, sir?" The receptionist asked in a friendly way. His nerves melted away.

"Actually, yes," Manx told her. "Yes you can."

"And with what would that be?" She asked.

"I am just wondering…" Manx said as his nerves began to make him lose his train of thought. "...If… you can tell me what room Mr. Salem and Mr. Rios have Staff Sergeant Pier in."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"I do. 1:45 P.M., under Max."

"Found you. Okay. Upstairs, take a right, a left, then the third door on your left," She said to Manx. "You can't miss it," She smiled.

"Thank you, ma'am," Manx said as he made a move for the stairs.

"Good luck! You're gonna need it…" She said under her breath behind the giant computer she had on the gray desk. The floor was white linoleum and windows stood on every side except behind her, sending in loads of sunlight, but designed so it was in an ideal amount.

Near her was also an inviting waiting room with a sky blue couch and clear glass coffee table. Beside it lay a separate door into an office, which was really two adjoining administrative offices with soundproof walls and one way windows, so no one could see in. Rios and Salem's personal offices, which they'd decorated and organized to their preferences. Both had immediate access to a staging room and one of many shooting ranges, respectively. Several very nice black and leather armchairs surrounded the table.

Okay. Right. Got it. Then left. Done. Okay, third door, third door. Aha! Found it! He knocked. Several men were talking in there, he could tell. He opened the door slowly.

"Hey, Max. Have a seat," Salem greeted him.. "And meet Kevin, your new partner! Now, you have someone to kiss up to you!" Salem finished in a tired and cranky voice.

"Sorry about him. He's had no sleep for the past few days, we've been getting everything set for Armenia," Rios said like a dog owner whose dog just decided to defecate on someone else's lawn.

Max nodded his understanding.

"Hey… You're Max, right?" Kevin asked. "The name's Kevin. But, feel free to call me Pyre. Nice to see you," he continued with his strong jawline moving rapidly, exposing his nerves while he gave a strong and fast handshake. He was incredibly well toned. He stood at roughly 5 '10 and 145 pounds. Shorter than Manx, who was roughly 6 '0. His gelled back blonde hair and brown eyes looked upon Manx with curiosity and wonder. Excitement for getting to finally meet the man who he would serve alongside.

"Max," Manx responded. "Nice to finally meet you again, Kevin." They both sat back down. Manx's blue eyes and brown hair gave away nerves everyone else in the room picked up on instantly. His muscular build gave away the body of a runner with long and toned legs. He wasn't ripped, but he had enough muscles to get by on his pale skin. His handshake had been strong and warm, which gave Kevin a good impression and had put him at ease.

"Right. Girls, now that you've met each other, can we please get to the task at hand?" Salem asked. "Thank you. Now, we're gonna run some tests. Nothing too scary except for all the needles. And the scale. And that other thing where Rios punches each of you in the stomach for showing up too late for his liking. Unless he lets me do that one because I already passed?"

"And the other test where he gives you to an old quack to see if you two are made for each other," Salem said in a girly voice, as though he was swooning over some hidden crush.

"And that other one where he calls you at midnight to tell you the travel plan, then comes to your apartment at 3:00 AM to talk about I can't even remember what. Those tests. And I would love to take them again!" Salem finished in an angry, tired, and heavily slurred, hungover voice.

"Sorry. He may be a little hungover. I bet him a beer he couldn't take a punch in the stomach from me as hard as I could hit him. He took it and well… He took the beer. One thing led to another and voila!" Rios said. "Oh, and he did show up too late. He has a good memory, even when hungover."

Rios laughed.

"So help me…If Rios… No. No. No, no. He wouldn't. He's reliable-ish. Ish. Right, Rios? Ish? No, but he does have something ing to tell you three, no five, no six!" Salem said in an extremely hungover voice. BANG!

Salem's head hit the table. Kevin began laughing. "Did you see THAT!?"

Manx nodded. "Oh yeah. I don't blame you. That was kind of funny," He started to laugh as well.

"Oh, shut up," Rios started laughing. "On to the psychological evaluations."

"We gonna go see the quack?" asked Pyre. "Because I'm having a hard time understanding why you need to see how our brains work. I think we're fine."

"Just company policy man, relax. Okay? Can you do that for me?" asked Manx.

"I've always found I don't really know a man until I get inside his head," Rios said. "And walk around a bit. I used this crap on Salem. I can assure you, it most definitely works. He's the guinea pig, so if it hadn't, we'd have tried something worse."

"I just… I just don't like needles, okay man? They're sharp and they hurt. I don't know what they're putting in me," Pyre stated.

"Just think of it like this," Manx explained. "It's just a needle. Only seven inches long, probably fitted with some weird virus. You're only going to be the host to some strange parasite that they wanna test on you. Okay? So, be weird and ask for your shot in the rump. You strike me as the kind of person who would enjoy that kind of thing. My brothers have always said that hurts less, too."
"You know, you really aren't helping. Thinking about the fact that all the weird things you see in the movies that happen in your body with organs and stuff? And how all those gross things work? Disturbing to think that's all inside of me," Pyre said. By this point, they had reached the doctor, who was not a medical doctor, but a doctor of psychology. Manx smiled and greeted him.

"Hello, boys," The doctor said pleasantly. "Mr. Rios, sir, who have you brought me today?"

"Manx or Max and Pyre, aka Kevin," Rios said.

"I see. Kevin, won't you sit down? I don't bite. Well, I haven't recently," The doctor said to only Pyre.

"Sorry doc, I never really liked doctors. They make me nervous. I don't like needles. So, I'm sorry if I do anything drastic. I'm just nervous," Pyre said.

"That's okay," The doctor responded calmly.

Rios stood over Kevin. He was starting to remind him of Salem. Short, wiry, strong, and nervous. How had he maintained control of himself for this long? Salem would have put forth some serious expletives and probably broken something.

"So let's get this started. Max, I have been given a service record of each of you. I must say, yours is quite nice. It says only good things. Are you a permanent citizen?" The doctor asked.

"No, sir. I am not. I have to get this thing renewed in about a year. I am also 25," Manx said as he held up his green card from his wallet. His mask was on a coffee table in front of him, right by a mug of warm coffee.

"Have you attempted to apply for permanent citizenship?" The doctor asked.

"Yes, sir. They're still going through other people's papers right now, though. I got a notice back saying they've misplaced it and are looking for it," Manx told the doctor.

"Alright. What is your former branch of service?" asked the doctor.

"102nd airborne. Screaming eagles, sir. 2004-2008. We fight and we win. We're the best." Manx told the doctor confidently.

"I've no doubt of that. Also, please don't call me sir. I feel superior to you in no way. As long as we're talking, we are equals. Do you understand?" asked the doctor.

Manx nodded.

"Alright. Now for a situation. A little girl is rigged with a bomb, booby-trapped. You could save her. But, your partner is down. He needs you. You could save him as well. But you can't save both of them. Pyre? He'll die of blood loss without you. And the bomb doesn't have enough time left on it to save them both. What do you do?" the doctor asked.

"I… I don't understand, doctor. That decision… I wouldn't be able to make it." said Manx.

"Well, you better start making it. You're an asset that the company cannot afford to lose. You're an incredibly smart man, son. Any decision you make is probably made from the best instincts you have. Now tell me. What do you do?" asked the doctor in full seriousness and in a calm expression.

"I… don't know. I would try to do both. But Pyre? He's not going to die, we agreed to work together and risk our lives for one another. No matter what. The airborne rangers taught me the value of a fellow soldier. But, I cannot underestimate the importance of civilian life. I would go back for them," Manx said.

"I respect your decision, Corporal. Many men would have broken down in that situation. I could see either approach." The doctor said. "Well done."

He turned and gave a plain expression to Pyre.

"Your former branch of service?" the doctor asked.

"Army rangers. 75th regiment, 2003 to 2007," said Pyre.

"I can tell from your records you're also a naturalized citizen. Interesting. Age 26. Did you serve in a combat role?" asked the doctor.

"I did, doctor," Pyre said. He was trying to read the doctor. His nerves were exposed. Soon, the fatal questions would come. Whether or not this partnership was going to happen.

"Excellent. Then I reckon you and Max should get along well. Now, on to the serious questions. You're smart, too, so this shouldn't be hard for you and I also trust any decision you make is made from you best judgement," the doctor said.

Pyre nodded. He started taking deep breaths. He hoped to be paired with Manx. He had a feeling. A good feeling about him that he couldn't explain.

"Alright. What is more important to you in a combat operation, information or the well being of your troops, Sergeant?" asked the doctor.

Sergeant… He knew what happened... Great… This is going to go downhill fast!

"Well, are we behind enemy lines? Is it just the platoon I'm in? Where are we and what information do we have?" asked Pyre cautiously.

"You're behind enemy lines. No one is coming to save you unless they can find you. Are you willing to lose men trying to find a way out or do you stay put and wait to be located?" the doctor asked.

"We try and find a way out. We're in it together. We can make it out if we work together. We may be at a severe risk if we try, but if we just stay put, we're guaranteed to die through combat and starvation. So in this case, I would work more for information on a way out, so the casualties can be prevented," Pyre said.

"I see. Not what I was expecting. You seem to be a fighter. Another situation, then," the doctor said, dismissing the answer from before.
"Your partner is in position. There is a not yet dug in enemy you are to maneuver upon. However, you don't know their numbers. You have the element of surprise and night is falling. Do you attack right away or risk being scouted out and engaged in the day?" asked the doctor.

"We attack. They don't know we're coming. We can maneuver on them and strike unexpected blows. We can do a lot of damage for a high risk, but not higher than in the day. In fact, I'd argue our chances would be a bit better at night," Pyre said.

"Okay. Another scenario, then. I notice you are a high risk, high reward fighter. Okay. You are out in the open. Minimal cover. Your partner is down and badly wounded. Getting to him would be almost impossible. However, there's a mortar firing. A family trying to escape is trapped! The little bit of cover you have is quickly wearing away. The mortar has briefly stopped firing. Your partner is out in the open and far away. The family is within shouting range. Do you help them or your partner?" the doctor asked seriously.

Rios was looking at him. He could NOT screw this up. But in signing, he had agreed to answer honestly. He looked at his mask. Lose his only help or rescue a family caught in the middle? He began to worry and sweat.

"Time is of the essence. Say it now. Your cover is almost gone, soldier," The doctor said.

A microwave in the cream-walled room beeped. Salem walked over and took something out. In his hand was a cup of piping hot coffee. The gray carpet and white cabinetry gave a rather bland appearance where the small kitchenette was. It wasn't exactly an office, but with a fridge, microwave, oven, cabinetry, cupboards… It made the doctor a nice setup.

"Sorry, doc. Continue."

"That's quite alright… Sir," the doctor said, almost unable to accept that someone like him was his boss.

The doctor gave Pyre roughly two minutes. He spoke.

"I… I can't decide. I cannot make this decision," Pyre informed the room.

"I trust any decision you make will be the right one. Now, what did you decide?" probed the doctor.

Pyre began sweating bullets! Rios walked closer and stood over him. He got up and was ready to speak! His nerves were completely exposed! Everyone could see the weight this decision was having on him. The coffee table quaked slightly as he forcefully moved.

"I don't know. I don't know. My partner. The civilians probably can't be saved due to the rubble falling. I may as well run into the gunfire, getting into rubble that'll start falling feels about as difficult," Pyre said.

"Alright. I respect your decision. Well, done, Sergeant. But in combat, such hesitation would cost you both dearly. Be careful then," The doctor said.

The doctor looked firmly at Pyre. Manx frowned slightly and could feel the pressure.

He smiled at Pyre. Pyre looked toward him and Manx was honest with him.

"Pyre, I have to be honest. I could not make the choice. You were brave in that situation. The doctor was right. Whatever decision you make, it's completely justified."

Rios noticed what Manx said. And he liked what he saw. They could be partners together. This could work. This would work. And then came the best part of that realization. Salem kindly interrupting the interaction with a poorly timed entry, cold Bud Light in hand.

"What's up, Tyse? The rookies serving together or not?"

"Yes, they are, Salem. Now put that beer in this fridge, where I can see it! You were supposed to be here to help with this. We agreed on that. But nevermind. We'll discuss this later. In the meantime, what jobs do we have no one on?"

Salem referenced a handy orange file folder in his hand he labeled "Jobs", which made him feel like a lame desk worker. And he hated that. But he did feel kind of cool for having gotten some real work done.

"Let's see… Let's see… Can you name five, Rios?"

"Salem, I can't name five of them. You were in charge of maintaining and updating those. Remember?" Rios asked with genuine curiosity.

"Right, right… Yeah. Maintain. I never heard you say that."

"What did you hear me say?"

"Well, judging by the fact that I was hung over very recently, I think I have it… Let's see here... "

"You do have the list, right? We need that list, Salem."

"Here it is, Rios. Right where I left it."

Salem pulled the list out of the nearest storage location, a large cooler.

"How does the list… What happened, Salem?"

"It just… happened? You know how I am when I'm hung over, Tyse. I lose things."

"Anything else in there you've misplaced?"

"Well… You car keys, too, if I'm remembering correctly. God does my head hurt."

"Salem, give me my keys. Then go find some paperwork, you were supposed to file some of our taxes. I'll do the rest tonight before we leave, just get it started. Okay?"

"Okay, boss. See you guys later."

Salem handed Rios the list on his way out, which contained the current jobs. They're in the following countries: Kosovo, Serbia, Indonesia, Malaysia, Bolivia, Mexico, Cuba, Angola, Mozambique, Iran, Afghanistan, Tajikistan, and Azerbaijan, and Nagorno Karabakh.

Rios handed them the list. "Which one looks best to you guys? I have no preference."

Pyre looked first and pretty much knew right away which one he wanted. "What about Malaysia? That sounds nice."

Manx looked again. "Yeah… no. How about Mexico?"

"No. Just… No. I am willing to compromise: We do somewhere that isn't in the middle of a ********* desert."

"I'd do Kosovo. Probably wouldn't be that hard."

Pyre nodded in agreement.

"Ok, Kosovo. There's major tensions right now. Some protestors need protection. Lately, they've been harassed by an ethnic Serbain militia for protesting Serbia's attempts to interfere with Kosovan government. Quite possibly sent by the Serbian government itself. The protesters have been fired upon. You have to protect them for several days. Also, there's a high bonus for capturing or killing the suspected leader. We've got one of our interpreters, whom you'll meet at your hotel. And remember, NO GUNS in the capital city."

"We can do that. You in, Pyre?" asked Manx.

"Yeah, I'm in. Let's do this!"

"Excellent. Your plane comes at 09:00 hours sharp, private jet. It comes right at this location, so don't be late. If we're on schedule, you two will arrive at O'hare International Airport at 1130 hours. From there, you board a plane to Madrid, Spain. You catch the next flight at about 19:30 hours, then land in Pristina, Kosovo at 03:30. Stay at the arranged hotel after you talk to your contact and spend the day exploring. Note that this schedule has been arranged for a while. I just had to call in some favors," Rios said.

As Manx finished writing, he showed Pyre the comprehensive, 18 hour travel schedule. Pyre winced, nodded, and read the list again.

"We're on it, sir. We'll be here at precisely 08:30 tomorrow," Pyre said confidently to Rios.

"Now, there's someone I'd like you to meet."

The two men followed Rios out into the lobby, walked down three more hallways, took a left, a right, and then walked down to the end of a hallway until Rios gestured to a door on the left.

Rios knocked on the door with three quick but loud taps. The woman sitting in the office opened the door, seeing the two new recruits standing before her.

"Meet Angela, your mission coordinator."

She saw the two strangers and immediately slammed the door when she heard her phone ring.

Rios decided he would not insert himself into the situation. He would simply stand and watch. After what felt like an eternity, it became very clear she wasn't coming out. The blinds on the door were closed and there wasn't even a possibility of making out a human silhouette on the phone.

"Sorry. She gets busy sometimes and she's not exactly keen on warming up to strangers. She probably runs one of the largest workloads we could give our coordinators. Given how new she is, she manages the work pretty well."

"Got it. Just a little shy and busy. Been there myself," Manx said.

Rios simply smiled, grateful the man understood. Angela wasn't exactly a people person, so to say. She would have no problem discussing details with Salem and him. No problem with talking to clients. Meeting them was hard, but she did her job efficiently. Of the several coordinators and small record-keeping staff they'd hired (Salem never cut it), she took on perhaps the largest workload minus Alice herself.

She felt overworked sometimes, which Rios could understand. But the situation being what it was and the company being as new as it was, some would have to stick their necks out a little farther. He hoped he could rely on Angela and a handful of others to, just as he, Alice, and Salem were. And they would continue to do so if it ensured the company's survival and that there would be eventual growth in the near future.

And once they hired some more people, Rios suspected Angela would open right up to the two she was now assigned as her workload decreased. But he couldn't stop acknowledging the workload he had given her. She was busy as it was, and if several of her skill level didn't pull the weight, well… Her colleagues' efficiency would plummet. She would do her best, however.

They walked back to Rios' office, sitting down while the big man laid out some papers in front of them. He passed them each a black pen and began to explain what these papers meant and what the two new men were agreeing to.

They each shook his hand and left for their respective abodes, after spending several more hours going over contracts. Sign up agreements, agreements about the fact that they would indeed be partners and what that entailed, salary, insurance, mission policy, etc.