The bar seemed oddly quiet after the bustle of the lunchtime rush. Barret grabbed two icy bottles of beer from the fridge and twisted off the caps, slamming both of them down in front of Cloud with a little too much force. Beer frothed up over the necks and pooled on the table.

Cloud sighed and moved the ledger he was writing in away from the puddle. Barret knew he'd just counted the takings and was making a note of them, the first job Tifa would tackle during the couple of hours the bar was closed before the evening's steadier trade resumed. The scene warmed his heart slightly. Cloud slipped back into life at Seventh Heaven as though he'd never been away.

He didn't skirt around the issue. Tifa's absence was playing on his mind.

"Shouldn't Tifa be back by now?" Barret asked, taking a seat next to him.

"She said she'd be back to reopen."

He pressed his point. "And where did she say she was going again?"

Cloud didn't look up from his work. "I don't know."

Barret was already feeling antsy, and Cloud's vague answers were doing nothing to help that. He avoided answering Barret's questions whilst there were customers in the bar, always too busy to stand and chew the fat whenever Barret approached, treating the patrons to his slightly aloof charm in place of Tifa's bubbly persona. Now there were no excuses for him to hide behind. Cloud was having this conversation whether he liked it or not.

Barret knew exactly where Tifa was. She was with Reno. His drunken and bloody state the night before tugged on her heartstrings and she was unable to leave him to rot, drawn in like a moth to a flame. They couldn't allow it to continue, but before Barret could decide what the hell they would do about the situation, he needed a better understanding of how Cloud felt about it.

He was about to go for the jugular when heavy footsteps on the stairs told him they had company. The door at the back of the bar swung open, revealing a lanky and dishevelled Cid. He headed across the room and joined them at the table, his hair sopping wet, and there were marks on his forever oil-stained t-shirt that suggested he pulled it on over damp skin.

Fortunately for Cid, he avoided the crush of customers, leaving Yuffie to help them out with the bar collecting empty plates and glasses whilst Red entertained the kids. Cid mumbled something about checking on Vincent just before they opened the doors and hadn't returned.

"Nice of you to join us," said Barret, moving over to make room. "You singing so loud in the shower you didn't hear all the folks that needed serving?"

"Ha-ha," Cid replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "You boys were doing fine without me. Don't need me getting under your feet."

Cloud raised his eyebrows, suggesting he wholeheartedly agreed. Cid picked up the beer intended for Cloud and took a healthy swig, drips of condensation from the bottle further staining his shirt.

"Say... where is everyone?" he asked.

"Yuffie took the kids out. Red and Vincent tagged along," Cloud replied, still carefully jotting the numbers down in the ledger.

Cid snickered. "I'll bet Vincent was over the moon with that."

She cited Denzel's need for fresh air as an excuse to hot-foot it out of the bar. Marlene asked for Tifa, and Barret realised the pesky ninja was in on it all when she got flustered and nearly knocked her soda over. Yuffie would've spilt the beans, but he applied no pressure, tied up as he was behind the bar. She grinned at him as she sailed out the door, acknowledging that she dodged a bullet.

Vincent took little persuading and Barret was grateful. He nodded his head at Barret as he followed them out, a silent understanding between the two men that he and Red would look after the excitable trio. The stoic bastard possessed a soft-centre, deep down, and Barret could hardly begrudge the kids the chance to get out. Denzel only recently got back on his feet, and the poor kid was going crazy, stuck in his bedroom day in, day out.

"Where is Tifa anyway?" asked Cid. "Not that she doesn't deserve an afternoon off, mind."

Barret noticed it then, the hint of colour in that crept into Cloud's cheeks.

"She had an errand to run," Cloud replied.

"An errand? That errand wouldn't have red hair and a shit-eating grin, would it?" asked Barret, picking back up his earlier line of enquiry.

Tifa caught feelings, damned if he knew how, and she was acting crazy because of it. Her tears at Healen sliced his heart open, and her admission played on his mind ever since. She wouldn't have owned up to falling for Reno if she hadn't meant every word, not being the type to rock the boat unnecessarily, and it was brave of her to open up to him. She knew exactly how much he hated the Turks.

Her feelings might have been real, but Reno was a manipulative little shit and this wasn't a mistake Barret would sit back and allow her to make. She'd get hurt, and he cared about her too much to let that happen.

Cloud sat back in his seat. "What's the point in asking if you already know the answer?"

"Hold up…" Cid looked between them, eyebrows pulled into a frown. "She's with Reno?"

Although Cid was slow on the uptake, his shocked expression made up for it now. Tifa's blossoming friendship with Reno was news to him.

"Reno the Turk?"

"You dumb or something?" Barret growled.

Cid picked idly at the label on his beer. "Always knew she'd move on one day but not with the likes o' him."

"She don't know what she's doing," he said. "All this that's going on… He's taking advantage and she's letting him."

"She knows exactly what she's doing," said Cloud, his voice tense. "We have to trust her."

Barret knew that she and Cloud had a bust-up at Healen Lodge. The pair of them barely spoke two words to each other before they returned to Edge, although he was pleased to see Tifa eventually took his advice and called a truce. He hadn't expected Cloud to be so accepting of the situation.

"And what the hell's that supposed to mean?" he asked, the challenge clear in his voice.

Cid chuckled. "I think it means this is a mistake we've gotta let her make."

"Tifa don't want Reno. He's… He's…"

"A Shinra dog," Cid supplied. "Might've been true once. But from where I'm sitting those black suits are looking a darn sight friendlier than they ever were before. Your Marlene's taken quite a shine to 'em, or ain't you noticed?"

"Shinra'll never be our friends." Barret banged his fist against the table and the bottles rattled. "She's a goddamned fool if she thinks otherwise."

"Calm down and try not to piss your damn pants," Cid drawled. "Tifa's a grownup. Right now we've got bigger things to worry about."

"Bigger than a goddamn Turk getting his feet under the table?"

"Your priorities are a piece o' shit," Cid replied. "Last I checked, folks were trying to kill us."

If Cloud's willingness to overlook Tifa and Reno angered him, Cid's was a betrayal. Barret was relying on the man to be angry, or at least to rally round and agree. It would have given Barret the vindication he needed. The thought of the Turks getting comfortable at Seventh Heaven galled him, Reno especially. If it hadn't been for him and his partner… Barret baulked at the thought. Rude at least was a little more dignified in his actions since he murdered half of Sector Seven. Reno didn't give a shit, taunting them at every turn just because he got a kick out of it.

Guilt over the plate still twisted at him, the unshakeable fear that he was to blame for Sector Seven's demise still there, even after so many years. It was a truth he didn't dare speak aloud, trying to protect the others from the implication it imposed. Shinra dropped the plate to wipe out Avalanche. He could have stopped it from happening; he could have handed himself in. Instead, he tried to fight and thousands of people died.

Cloud sighed. "Look, Barret, I get it. And I don't like it either. But Tifa's family and we have to be there for her, no matter what."

"This is your fault," he countered, blowing hot air as his inner struggle raged on. "Should've got your spiky head out of your goddamn ass while you still had a chance."

"We're just friends," Cloud replied, voice weary.

"You'd have to be." Cid's mouth split into a smirk. "A man would have to be crazy to pass up a chance with a girl like Tifa."

"You're not helping, old man," said Barret.

"Speak for yourself." Cid shoved him good-naturedly. "Look, Barret, Tifa's an excellent judge o' character and you'd do well to remember that. No point getting your drawers in a twist until the shit hits the fan."

He was about to argue when a bullet shattered the window opposite and embedded itself in the plaster behind him.

Things happened in slow motion. Barret and Cid flipped the table, sending the bottles and the ledger flying as their unseen assailant fired another shot. Barret was relieved but unsurprised to see Cloud had been sitting with his sword propped against the stool beside him. The three men hunkered down behind the overturned furniture.

"The hell?" Cid barked, shoulder pressed to the wood. "This is what I'm talking about. Goddamn priorities!"

Barret couldn't see much from his position on the floor. Whilst the table provided cover, it also blocked most of his view of the rest of the bar. He tried to ignore his heart as it clamoured to jump into his throat. Next to him, Cloud stiffened and ducked as a bullet hit the corner of the table and sent splinters of wood flying.

How long had Yuffie and the kids been? The realisation coiled through Barret, icy and unwelcome. They'd be heading home any time now and walking into a goddamn gunfight.

"Cloud… the kids…"

Cloud's eyes widened in understanding and he tugged his PHS out of his pocket, hastily selecting Yuffie's contact and hitting call. "Yuffie? Don't ask questions, there's no time. We're under attack."

Barret listened to Cloud snap instructions down the line, unable to ignore the nest of vipers in his gut. Though they were simple, they made his blood run cold.

"Take them to Shinra HQ. You'll be safe there."

"Hold on a damned minute," said Barret. "Why would she take them to Shinra?"

Cid placed a warning hand on his arm. "Think about it. The bar ain't safe. They've got all kinds of security. The place is a goddamn fortress."

Another barrage of bullets sprayed through the broken window, biting grooves into the carefully polished floor. It would devastate Tifa when she saw the damage, and that hurt Barret even more.

Cloud had already returned the PHS to his ear before Barret could argue. "Tseng? It's Cloud. We're under attack."

"I don't like this," Barret hissed.

"Me neither," Cid agreed, as Cloud relayed his previous instructions to Yuffie. "But we're on the same side now, like it or not. Shinra'll keep the kids safe."

Barret's attention skipped back to the phonecall, the change in Cloud's tone raising his suspicions.

"No… She's not here," said Cloud, his frown turning into an expression of confusion.

"Who ain't here?"

"Okay," Cloud continued. "We'll do what we can."

As he slipped the PHS back into his pocket, another bullet ripped into the wall behind them, raining plaster down around them.

"Tseng thought Elena was here," said Cloud, before Barret could jump in and ask the question.

He didn't elaborate, but his wary expression finished the statement off. Seventh Heaven was under attack and Tseng didn't know where Elena was.

She was at the bar more and more since they returned from Healen Lodge, and her absence today hadn't passed unnoticed. Marlene asked when she'd be there, and that filled Barret with dread. Whilst he didn't like any of them, he thawed a little towards the tiny blonde who wasn't afraid to stand up to him from her vantage point at his elbow. He didn't enjoy the thought of her being in trouble, and that concerned him. He didn't want to develop a soft spot for any of the bastards.

"She's in trouble?" he asked.

Cloud didn't reply. He didn't need to.

They all ducked as a bullet chewed another chunk out of the table. This time the salvo lasted a little longer, their attackers relying on sheer luck rather than any kind of aim to make their pot-shots felt.

"So Yuffie's taking the kids to Shinra?"

Cloud nodded.

"Goddamn-"

"Barret," Cid warned. "You know it's the right thing to do."

He grunted in response. "You heard from Tifa yet?"

"No." Cloud's eyes narrowed, his expression darkening. "I called her earlier. Her PHS is going straight to voicemail."

Something didn't feel right. Elena was in trouble, and Cloud couldn't reach Tifa. Suddenly Barret was hoping she was with Reno, unable to stomach the alternative. Cloud's expression only mirrored his concerns.

The jarring tinkle of another window breaking snapped Barret away from his thoughts, and a rain of bullets took out a family photo on the wall, shattering the cheap frame to bits. He watched it fall, darkness settling over his heart. This was all because of Avalanche and the reactor bombings. He'd brought this danger to their door once again.

"Folks are shooting at us and we're hiding here like a bunch of yellow-bellied Chocobo," he said, anger leaking into every word. "We can't just sit here and do nothing!"

Cloud looked at him. "Do you have a better plan?"

"Yeah… How about we stop hiding and fight!"

Cid shook his head. "Think about it. We head out there all guns blazing and they scarper… we'll never catch 'em. There's a dozen different ways they could run, and there's only the three of us."

"Cid's right," Cloud agreed. "We draw them in here, we have the upper hand."

"And then what?"

"We catch one of 'em. Make 'em talk."

Barret considered this. Capturing one of Erin's goons alive seemed as good a plan as any. He still didn't like it though, the itch to get out there and fight only spurred on by the anger and adrenaline.

"Fine," he said reluctantly, making himself more comfortable, staying close to the table and the protection it offered. "But I don't like it."

"That's fine," said Cid. "Nobody asked you anyway."

The aeronaut grinned at him, cuffing him on the arm. Barret didn't miss the way his hands were shaking or the pallor to his face. Cid was just as rattled as he was.

"Heard anymore from Yuffie?" Barret asked.

Cloud shook his head.

"Tifa?"

"No."

Neither answer inspired him with confidence. Whilst it was a relief for the kids to be out of the line of fire, he'd feel much better knowing they were safe. He trusted Red and Vincent to take care of them, and Yuffie would sooner lose a limb than let anybody touch a hair on either of their heads, but that didn't stop the worry from biting at him. Nothing about this situation sat easily with him, the constant need to look over his shoulder reminding him of darker times spent running from Shinra, before they wound up on the same damn side.

Cloud held his hand up in warning. "Listen..."

It was a little while since they fired any shots. Barret raised his head again cautiously and wasn't immediately forced back behind the table. Voices at the door to the bar suggested their visitors believed their bullets found their mark, and they were preparing to enter.

Cloud moved to a crouch, balancing the weight of his sword against his shoulder. "You got a weapon, Cid?"

Cid grinned, his eyes flicking to the bar where Barret knew he stashed his spear. "Course I have."

"Get ready. We don't want to kill anybody, but this could get messy."

"Sure thing."

Cid leapt out from behind the table and sprinted for the bar, as the voices at the door became more frustrated. A thud and crash against the wood suggested they were using some kind of battering ram to take it down. They could only expect the bolts to hold for so long.

"Barret, I need you to cover me," said Cloud.

He waved his gun arm. "I know what to do."

The door exploded open. There was a moment of silence and a grenade bounced across the floor, spewing a stream of smoke into the air as it rolled towards them. Cloud muttered something Barret didn't catch, peeling away from the relative safety of the table and disappearing into the fog.

"Goddamn it, Spiky!"

The grenade had quickly done its job, filling the bar with a cloud of smoke Barret could barely see through. Shadows… A flash of steel… A low grunt and an organic sound as a body hit the floor. He couldn't risk firing a shot, not knowing if his targets were friend or foe. The air tasted metallic, and he tried not to breathe too deeply, unsure of what the stuff was. He could only hope it wasn't poisonous.

Another wet gurgle, followed by a thud.

A figure barreled towards him, a shadow in the smoke. Cid's spear thunked into the floor beside him, closely followed by the man's lanky frame. There was a gash above his eye that was bleeding freely down his face.

"Damned if I know how many o' them there are," he said. "Can't see shit."

"I can't see past my goddamn nose." Barret jerked his gun irritably. "Can't shoot... Might take your sorry ass out."

"My sorry ass doesn't want any bullets in it, thanks all the same."

Cid pulled a carton of cigarettes out of his trousers and wedged one between his lips.

"The hell you doing? You know Tifa doesn't let you smoke in here!"

"Look around you ugly shit, the whole damned place is full o' smoke."

Cid lit the cigarette with shaking hands and took a long drag. Blood dripped down his chin and onto his shirt. Barret caught the tang of nicotine in his throat before he wrenched the smoke out of Cid's unresisting fingers and stubbed it out on the floor.

"Bastard," Cid grumbled. "I was enjoying that."

There was another burst of metal in the air, closer this time. The thick haze muffled and multiplied the hurried footsteps, making it impossible to work out how many there were. Could have been two, could have been twenty for all Barret knew.

"Good news is they can't see jack shit either, so they've stopped shooting," said Cid, his tone conversational.

"We need a goddamn plan!"

"Oh really? I couldn't o' worked that out for myself. A plan. Sure." Cid shook his head and more blood dripped onto the floor. "Let me just put on my thinking drawers and I'll see what I can come up with. A goddamn plan…"

Barret pointed at the gash on his head. "Did that hurt?"

"What the hell do you think?"

"Good," he replied, with feeling. "Got any smart ideas?"

"I say we sit it out and let ol' Mako Eyes handle it." Cid shrugged. "I don't like it any more than you do, but I definitely don't wanna get shot and I don't think Cloud wants to be a shish-kabob either."

He waved his spear for emphasis, smiling thinly. Barret understood his intention. The last thing any of them wanted was to take out a friend by mistake, and fighting blind in such close confines was difficult enough.

They couldn't leave Cloud to handle it.

"We need to clear this goddamn smoke," he said.

"Well, damn… Looks like I left my industrial fans in my other pants."

Barret looked to the ceiling. There were large fans installed overhead, concealed now by the smoke. Four of them, a cheap attempt at keeping air circulating. Tifa only used them in the summer, when the sticky heat of Edge prevented the breeze from breaching the windows. A panel behind the bar controlled them.

"Oh, shit…" Cid's eyes snapped upwards as he too remembered the fans. "Second the smoke clears they're gonna start shooting again, you know that right?"

"Right," said Barret, lumbering out from behind the table. "Stay here."

With his back to the wall, he shuffled carefully around the perimeter of the bar, still unable to see a damned thing. A crash of metal and the sound of a table overturning told him Cloud was probably across the other side of the bar. When a shadow loomed directly in front of him, he halted, his heart racing, struggling to see who it was.

An expert slash from a blade nearly gutted him like a fish. He opened fire. The bullets lit up the smoke, and the shadow dropped to the ground.

He bolted, throwing himself around the corner of the bar and slamming his fist into the controls that set the fans running. They silently spun into action and the air cleared.

The revealed scene was one of utter carnage. Cloud was leaning heavily against a stool, clutching his arm, blood seeping between his fingers and dribbling down his arm. A body lay lifeless on the floor at his feet. It could only be a body, Cloud's sword having nearly cut the man in two. Another slumped against the wall by the door, eyes hidden behind goggles but his mouth hanging open in a state of permanent surprise.

The man Barret took out was also wearing goggles. He was dead too, his gut riddled with gory craters thanks to Barret's gun. He wondered what'd stopped them from shooting and realised their eyewear hadn't allowed them to see clearly enough through their smokescreen. They'd fallen foul of their own tactics.

Cid straightened up behind the table. "Three? Is that all of them?"

"I don't know." Cloud looked troubled. "It felt like more."

"Couldn't you see 'em?"

Cid gestured vaguely at Cloud's aqua eyes, and Barret wasn't surprised to see confusion pass over his face.

"So you can't see in the dark?" Cid sounded genuinely surprised.

Cloud looked to Barret for an explanation. He shrugged in response.

"Well… There goes our plan," said Barret, heading out from behind the bar. "Don't think any of these will talk to us."

"Yeah, they don't look too chatty-"

The crack sounded from nowhere, cutting Cid off mid-sentence. He opened his mouth and closed it again, eyes bulging slightly as he staggered backwards. The dark stain blossomed across his t-shirt as he fell.

Neither Barret nor Cloud had time to react. The figure loomed in the doorway for a second, aiming at Cloud, before another sharp crack took their assailant down, blood exploding outwards from his shin. He dropped his firearm, hands clutching at his leg where Barret could see a gruesome wound peppered with shards of bone.

Cloud reacted first, kicking the gun out of the man's reach. Tseng stepped neatly through the doorway and rolled the man onto his back with his foot, pointing his revolver at the man's forehead. The look in his eyes chilled Barret's blood.

"Don't shoot," said Cloud, hurrying to make himself heard. "We need him alive."

Tseng adjusted his aim slightly. When he spoke, he aimed his question at Cloud.

"How many of you are there?"

"Just us. Tifa's not back yet."

Barret headed for Cid. The colour had drained out of his face, the dried blood stark now against his pale skin. His shaking hands were pressed against his chest, where Barret could see his shirt was sodden, fresh blood oozing into the cotton. The aeronaut's eyes rolled back, his mouth moving soundlessly. Barret felt the panic rise through him, tightening around his chest. The blood was welling up around Cid's hands, bubbling around his fingers with every laboured breath.

He pressed his own hands to Cid's torso, his large palms dwarfing the other man's. Pressure, he remembered, although anything else he might've known about dealing with this shit was now refusing to come to him. He needed to apply pressure… stop the bleeding.

"Cloud! I need help!"

Another gunshot and the man at Tseng's feet howled. Barret jumped out of his skin, the sound wholly unexpected. The Turk shot their attacker in his opposite thigh without a trace of remorse crossing his face. He scrutinised his handiwork for a second before heading towards Barret and Cid. The wounded man wouldn't be moving anywhere quickly.

"There's another in the street outside," Tseng said, voice far too calm. "I'd have been here sooner, but he tried to resist. He's dead."

Barret glanced at Tseng. There was blood on his hands and shirt, although it was unclear whether it belonged to him. His tie was hanging loose, a button missing at his collar, and his dark hair was dishevelled.

Tseng's eyes narrowed as he surveyed Cid. "Air is entering the thoracic cavity through the wound. He most likely has a collapsed lung."

"How the hell do I fix it?"

Tseng turned to Cloud. "A plastic bag… something to seal it. Do you have restorative items?"

"Only the basics," replied Cloud.

"A potion should be enough until you can get him to a hospital." Tseng slipped his PHS out of his pocket and snapped it to his ear. "Provided you can create an adequate seal… Reno… Elena's not here. We've detained a suspect."

Tseng walked away. Barret stared after him, open-mouthed, hands still pressed to the gory stain on Cid's chest. Cid's eyes widened, and he tried to speak but failed, more blood gurgling up between their fingers. His breath was shallow, his skin slick with sweat.

"Don't speak," said Barret. "Cloud, you heard him! We need something to plug the hole!"

Cloud jogged in the direction of the bar, neatly side-stepping the corpse on the floor. The man Tseng shot was whimpering as he tried to crawl for the door. Tseng pressed his foot against his thigh, expression cold. The man screamed.

"He's not going anywhere," Tseng continued, smiling slightly, his PHS still held to his ear. "Four bodies. I imagine they intended this to be a distraction… Ensure you are prepared. The President will be the target."

"The President?" Barret twisted his neck to follow the Turk as he paced the bar. "Hold on a damned minute! They're headed for your HQ?"

"Understood…" Tseng ignored him completely. "No, she isn't here. I think it's safe to assume they've both been compromised. Secure the President and meet me here. Arrange an ambulance… Highwind has been shot."

"Both been compromised? The hell does that even mean?"

Cloud returned, holding a first aid kit, a box of food wrap and a roll of packing tape. He knelt beside Barret, dropping the items on the floor and flipping the lid of the green box.

"This is the best I could do," he said.

"He said we need to seal it," said Barret, as Cloud picked up the food wrap.

"I'll tape a piece over the wound. Get ready to move your hands."

Cloud tore a section of the wrap off and Barret pulled his bloody hands away, trying to ignore the metallic smell of the gore that assaulted his senses. Cid's hands fell lax as Barret grasped the bullet-hole in his t-shirt and ripped it open. Beneath it Cid's pale chest rose and fell jerkily, pinkish bubbles forming around the bloody entry wound.

Cloud pressed the plastic to his chest and Barret picked up the tape, tearing strips off with his teeth. It was difficult to get the stuff to stick to Cid's blood-soaked skin. He'd gotten three edges secure when a shadow loomed behind.

"Leave one side open. It'll allow air to escape the cavity," said Tseng, returning his PHS to his jacket pocket. "There's an ambulance en route."

Cloud removed a potion from the kit, tearing the top corner off the sachet. "You think they're about to attack your HQ?"

"Yes."

"Marlene…" Barret felt sick. "You told us to send the kids there!"

"The children are safe," Tseng assured him.

Cloud held the potion to Cid's mouth. The man's lips took on a blue tinge, and he met little resistance when he dribbled the liquid between them.

When he spoke his voice was weary. "This was meant to be a distraction?"

"I believe so." Tseng tilted his head in acknowledgement. "They have Elena. They knew I'd come if I thought she was in trouble."

"You said they've both been compromised?"

"Reno's at HQ. He thought Tifa returned here. Clearly, she hasn't."

"And that means what exactly?" asked Barret.

"It's not a difficult concept to grasp." A touch of frustration in Tseng's cool voice betrayed him. "Erin has them both."

Barret's blood was boiling, the fear and adrenaline tipping him further. He could see it in Cloud's face too, the gut-wrenching panic as the pieces of the puzzle began to drop into place. Tifa was in trouble and he wanted to shout and curse and shoot them all down for daring to hurt his family. Some small semblance of logic remained. They didn't know where the hell Erin had taken them. Without that information, they were lost.

"How can you be so damned calm?" he asked.

"I have a job to do."

"Is that all you people care about? Your goddamn job?"

Tseng pivoted to look at him; his expression was difficult to read. "Your friend is bleeding on the floor. My team and the President are under attack, trying to keep your family safe. Elena is a Turk, she can look after herself."

Barret stared at him, unable to form a response. Nobody could be that callous, not if they truly cared.

"Reno's coming here?" asked Cloud, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"When the President is secure."

"And then what?"

Tseng turned, his eyes landing on the man that was shaking on the floor, blood now pooling around him. Barret saw it then, the flash of emotion that crossed his face. This cold-blooded detachment was all an act; the Turk was just as scared and angry as they were.

The mask slipped back into place. "We find out what we need to know."