AUTHOR'S NOTES: After some long chapters, this one's pretty short, and is another Bad Guy chapter. We need to get caught up with Salem and Cinder.

Also some world-building in this chapter. Notes to follow at the end.

Darvaza Airfield

Near Darvaza, Turkmenistan

28 July 2001

"Is this safe?" Emerald Sustrai asked with concern, as she stepped out of the Antonov An-12. The transport was nearly twice her age, but that wasn't what concerned her.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Salem stepped out behind her, the wind ruffling her white hair. She put on sunglasses, but otherwise gave no sign that the sunlight was a bother. Emerald had half expected her to burst into flames.

"No, Miss Salem, I just meant…"

Salem smiled at her. "My dear Emerald, I appreciate the concern for my well-being—or at least your meal ticket—but contrary to popular belief, I do not sit in Mount Yamantau like a modern-day Baba Yaga in her hut. I do occasionally leave…when something needs my personal attention." She walked towards the tower as several guards fanned out; above them, twenty GRIMM orbited. Behind her was Tyrian Callows and Mercury Black. "I admit I would've sent Cinder or Hazel in the past, but she's not exactly available, and Hazel—"

"—is on your shit list," Mercury finished.

Tyrian scowled at him, but Salem laughed. "An impertient answer, Mr. Black, but accurate nonetheless."

They walked past the tower; Tyrian noticed the Moisin-Nagant, still leaning against the side, and picked it up. Once they reached the half-collapsed barracks, they saw the bodies. Emerald's stomach gave a nasty heave. The smell of roasted flesh still hung in the air. "Madre di Dios," she whispered.

"Napalm," Salem said casually. "Someone was not fooling about." She waved them around the barracks. Mercury stopped, bent down, and picked up a few shell casings. "Nine millimeter. Beretta. Whoever was here, they were Americans—this is standard issue."

"Mistress Salem!" one of the guards shouted, pointing. "People, coming from the village."

"Lower your weapons," she ordered. "They mean us no harm." She stepped out in front of her guards, who lowered their assault rifles, but kept them at the ready. There were about a dozen of the villagers, none younger than fifty. An ancient man slightly increased his pace and while the others stopped, walked to Salem. Emerald noticed his hands were shaking. He began speaking in a language she didn't recognize, and tears began to stream down his face. Salem nodded and replied in the same language, then the old man fell to his knees, weeping. She knelt and put his head on her shoulder. Mercury opened his mouth, but a glare from Tyrian made him close it; there was only so much he could get away with, with the psychotic Faunus standing there. He watched the scorpion tail swishing in impatience, and sincerely wished he could put a bullet in the back of Tyrian's head.

Finally, the old man straightened up, as did Salem. She spoke a few words to him; he kissed her hand and drew back a respectful distance, to the others. The pale woman turned to her entourage. "These are the people of Darvaza village—what remains of them. They are essentially bandits, ambushing travelers who wander into this area. About a year or so ago, the Royal Air Force reopened Darvaza airfield to act as a waystation for NATO and RAF aircraft flying to and from Europe to Hong Kong and China. With my help and instruction, the people simply turned their banditry towards the base, taking the commander hostage. They would ambush and kill anyone who landed here, and the aircraft would join my, shall we say, collection." Salem nodded at Emerald. "The aircraft you were flying at Beacon and elsewhere usually originated here."

"What happened to the pilots?" Mercury asked.

"They ate them," Tyrian cackled, pointing to the villagers. "The perfect crime!"

Salem silenced him with a glance. "It seems that, purely by accident, Ruby Flight were forced to divert here two days ago. Like they did with the others, the villagers began pumping an anaesthetic gas into the barracks to put them to sleep, then arrived the next morning to kill them. However, either the gas failed to work or it didn't work well enough, and Ruby Flight escaped by shooting their way out." She turned to the old man and asked a few questions. The elder made movements with his arm, and described what was obviously an aircraft. Then he made a sound like a belch.

Even Emerald got that one. "They got strafed by an A-10. That means that Nora Valkyrie girl was here."

"She was the one who dropped the napalm, then. Most of the young people of the village died; only the old and the children remain." Salem sighed. "How odd that Ruby Flight seems always to be a pain in my ass. In any case, the operation here is over." She stepped forward and raised her arms and voice, speaking in the same language she had earlier; Emerald thought it sounded vaguely like Turkish, so it stood to reason that she was speaking in Turkmen, the local dialect. She wondered just how many languages Salem spoke: when she addressed Emerald and Mercury, she had spoken English without accent, and naturally spoke Russian to her guards and personnel at Mount Yamantau. The people went to one knee when she was finished, bowed their heads, and said a single word, in Russian: "Czarina!" Then they stood and began to hurry back to the village.

Salem motioned one of her guards forward. "There should be a truck or two parked around the base. Find it and take it to Darvaza village. We'll be taking these people back with us." He nodded, twirled a finger, and three other men broke off and followed him.

Next, she motioned at Emerald. When the former thief came up to her, she led her a few paces out of earshot. "Emerald, I assume you still know certain things about the criminal underworld."

"Not as much as Torchwick, but yes." Emerald noticed that Salem now addressed her in Spanish.

"Good. Can you contact the Malachite Gang? I have my own ways of doing so, but this needs to be done slightly more discreetly than normal. I must assume the CIA has their own contacts at Vladivostok."

"Sure." Emerald had met Lil' Miss once, and that was once too often, but there were plenty of ways to communicate, if one knew them.

"Excellent. When we return to Mount Yamantau, I want you to tell her Ruby Flight was here. According to the village elder, they flew south, so we can assume they rejoined the rest of their people, possibly at Ashgabat or Tehran. They won't be able to enter Europe, thanks to the embargo, but they are a resourceful bunch—they will find a way. Pass that on as well."

"Of course," Emerald answered. "But I don't understand why."

She didn't expect Salem to answer, but the older woman did. "Because, Emerald, Lil' Miss will tell Cinder, and she and Neo Politan will head off in pursuit. Their hatred for Ruby Rose will lead them to a partnership, if it hasn't already, and they will be useful to harass and harry our opponents." Salem tapped a finger against her chin. "It might be worth it to notify the White Fang, what's left of them…draw Adam Taurus out of hiding. His obsession with Blake Belladonna could prove useful as well." She put a pale hand on the thief's shoulder. "We'll see if Cinder can redeem herself, yes?"

Emerald nodded. "Of course," she repeated.

"Thank you, Emerald." She dismissed her, and Emerald walked away, obviously glad to be helping Cinder. Salem found herself liking the young woman, and wondered what was going on between her and Cinder Fall. Some sort of displaced redemption from Cinder, to rescue a girl from what had been her own fate? Emerald desperate for a friend, any friend? Were the two lovers? Salem gave a mental shrug; it didn't matter.

She stood on the runway for a long while, the wind whipping her black cloak behind her. Her guards found an ancient Zil truck and were using it to transport to older people, while the younger ones walked; all of them carried what little possessions they had. Salem had carefully cultivated hundreds of villages like Darvaza, to provide her intelligence, raw materials, or anything else she needed, but now that Darvaza Airfield was no longer useful, she would take the survivors back to Yamantau. The younger ones would go to work in the GRIMM factories; the elders would find other work, and be taken care of. Salem knew that mistreating her workers was the quickest way to revolution, so she fed them well, sheltered them, and in return only asked for their work and absolute loyalty. This they did, in abundance; it never ceased to amaze Salem how much people were willing to sacrifice for security and safety.

"The hearts of men are so easily swayed," Salem whispered, and smiled.

Gems Hotel

Beirut, Republic of Lebanon

29 July 2001

Cinder Fall looked out over Beirut Harbor from her fifth floor window. The sun was beginning to set over the ocean, bathing the clouds in the sky red. She figured it was appropriate. She heard the knock at her door, crossed the hotel room, and opened it to admit Adam Taurus and Neo Politan. "Good evening." She couldn't see his eyes through the mask, but she was sure the good one was wide. "What are you wearing?"

Cinder laughed as even Neo nodded in appreciation. "I told you I'd found a job running baccarat in the hotel casino."

"Which wasn't necessary," Adam said as he walked into the room. "I would have provided the funds for your room."

"I'm no one's kept woman," Cinder retorted. "I won't accept charity. Besides, I rather enjoy the job." Which was true, she reflected. When they'd arrived in Beirut three weeks previously, Adam had quickly contacted the local White Fang chapter, which was still intact and loyal. Whereas Lil' Miss Malachite had provided free storage of their three aircraft—Adam's Moonslice, Neo's Hawk, and Cinder's F-86, which Lil' Miss let her keep out of pure amusement—they had to provide for themselves otherwise. Adam had paid for his own hotel room and Cinder's, but she resented someone taking care of her; there were too many bad memories there. She had walked into the Gems Hotel's management office and gotten a job on the spot: Cinder spoke English and French, and her figure had done the rest. She hid her facial scars behind a cloth mask, which the players found mysterious and intriguing, and management, noticing traffic at the baccarat table now tripled, asked no questions. Beirut was that kind of city. Cinder had wondered if she would find it degrading—she'd grown up in a hotel, cleaning rooms, cleaning kitchens, little more than a slave to the owner. This was different, however, because she was in control this time.

"I rather enjoy the outfit," Adam commented, sparing her a long look. Cinder was wearing a tuxedo—sort of. Above the waist, it was a regular tux, but below the waist, the bottoms were high-cut over her hips, with black boots up to the knees, over fishnet pantyhose. Cinder's legs made men into gibbering fools and women jealous; even if she wasn't wearing a mask, she was sure that no one would've noticed her scars.

"Have a seat, fix a drink, whatever you like," she told them. "I have news from Lil' Miss." Adam didn't get a drink, but dropped onto the couch, setting his sword to one side; Cinder noticed he was dressed in his black flight suit, obviously not worried someone would recognize him. Neo opened the refrigerator and cracked open a beer; she was dressed casually, and Cinder had already noticed that the diminutive assassin could simply disappear into any crowd when she wished. They were an unlikely trio, together for revenge, but with an odd respect and even friendship blooming between them—if such a thing could exist between such people.

Cinder waited until Neo sat on the couch, then addressed them. "Lil' Miss heard from Emerald Sustrai, of all people—and since Emerald is with Salem, that means this message comes from her. Ruby Flight was at Darvaza in Turkmenistan two days ago. Apparently the locals there tried to kill them, which would've made our job much easier, but they escaped—and napalmed the locals on the way out."

"Good," Neo grinned.

"Salem believes they headed south to Tehran, and Lil' Miss believes she can confirm that." Cinder pulled out a map and spread it out on the floor. "We can assume that they did not stay in Tehran for long—the political situation there is too volatile—so that means they flew either to Incirlik in Turkey, which is the nearest NATO base, or an airbase in Israel."

"I don't think they're in Israel," Adam said. "The White Fang cell here told me that some other veterans of Beacon were down there at Ramat David—Sun Flight and Coffee Flight. There's been a heavy GRIMM presence in southern Egypt and the Sudan, of all places, and the Heyl Ha'avir—" Adam used the formal name for the Israeli Air Defense Force "—has been fighting them over the Red Sea. If Ruby Flight has this JINN thing, I doubt they'll be getting mixed up in that."

"So it's Incirlik," Cinder mused. She sat cross-legged in front of the map. "Too heavily defended for us to do anything there."

Adam shook his head. "They're going into Europe, probably to give JINN to Ironwood in Brussels."

"More than likely at Ironwood's forward headquarters in Poznan. CNN reported him there yesterday, anyway." Cinder tapped Poznan, in western Poland, not far from the border of the Poland Dead Zone at the Vistula River, then Incirlik in southern Turkey. "Fly in through Greece, then over Yugoslavia, over the Slovakian Dead Zone, to Poland? We might could catch them over Slovakia."

Adam stared at the map, then once again shook his head. "Too well patrolled. The EU knows Incirlik has an American prescence. They're sure to be watching it. It's too obvious an approach."

"Pyrrha's Greek," Neo put in. "She's a heroine there."

"She also renounced her Greek citizenship," Cinder countered. "Major Nikos is none too popular in Greece at the moment." She felt the fingers on her artificial arm twitch at the mention of Pyrrha Nikos. "So not Greece…then where…"

"How would we do it?" Neo asked. "Since we're going to have to anyway."

"Too dangerous to fly over the Dead Zones east of Poland and Czechia; they'd be dead, either by GRIMM or running out of fuel, long before they made Sweden. And the Swedes probably wouldn't let them in; they can't afford the diplomatic fallout." Adam stroked his chin. Cinder noticed he needed a shave; red stubble had sprouted there. "So that means the circle route, through North Africa, to Gibraltar, possibly—the British haven't gone along with the embargo, so they could stop there—across the Bay of Biscay to the UK, or even Menagerie." He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"Rather far, assuming they have no tanker support," Cinder said.

"The Sixth Fleet could—no, half of Ruby Flight can't refuel from Navy tankers," Adam corrected himself. He reached forward and tapped Malta, then Algeria. "They have to land somewhere for fuel. The RAF would let them into Malta…or they could land in Algeria."

"Isn't Algeria part of France?" Neo wanted to know.

"More or less," Adam answered. "They're a French colony, but not part of France proper. The French government handles their foreign policy, but otherwise they're independent. Since they're not part of the EU, they could land there." He shook his head. "No, it has to be Malta, or Gibraltar."

"It's Algeria." Cinder spoke it with conviction, and both Adam and Neo looked at her. "That's their plan for evading the embargo. They'll land in Algeria, then fly north into France. Once they're past the patrols, they'll easily make Poland. The EU isn't looking inside their borders."

"Why Algeria?" Adam asked.

Cinder smiled. "Jaune Arc. He used to talk about his sisters a lot at Beacon, and I remember him mentioning that one of his sisters lives in Algiers. That's where they're headed. Once they land there, they walk over to the French military mission, trade on being the friends of France's latest martyr, and the French Air Force will let them fly in. The EU's militaries aren't too happy about the embargo to begin with, so I doubt Ruby won't have to do more than bat her silver eyes and Pyrrha have a good cry over her poor dead lover before the French are letting them through."

Adam gave it some thought, then nodded. "It makes sense. Perfect sense." He ran a finger over the western Mediterranean. "When were they in Tehran? Two days ago?"

"Lil' Miss believes so."

"Then they were at Incirlik yesterday, and probably left this morning." He leaned back on the couch. "No chance to catch them now, which means our only real chance is getting them between Algeria and France."

"How?" Cinder questioned. "Too far away. I think our best bet will be to try and find them in Poland."

"I can get us into Yugoslavia, easy," Neo said. "We did a lot of business there, both my gang and Roman's."

Adam didn't seem to hear her. "I have contacts in Libya with Qaddafi's regime. We can operate out of Tripoli. It's just within our range to fly from here to Tobruk."

"No," Cinder said firmly. "We can make Libya, yes, but attacking Ruby Flight between Algeria and France also risks getting jumped by the French patrols out of Corsica, or the Spanish out of Mallorca. Neo's right, Adam—we have to try in Poland. That's the Wild West there; we can easily make our move."

Adam looked as if he was going to argue for a moment, his face going red, but then he just as quickly relaxed and shrugged. "I suppose that's true. Very well—Poland it is. The White Fang does not have much of a presence there, I'm afraid."

"We'll do what we've always done," Neo laughed, "lie, cheat, steal, and survive."

"True," he admitted.

"Then it's settled," Cinder stated with finality. "We'll catch them in Poland. How long do you need to get hold of your contacts in Yugoslavia, Neo?"

"About 24 hours."

"Then we'll leave day after tomorrow, first thing in the morning." Cinder took off the tuxedo jacket. "In which case, to hell with my job. I'll let Lil' Miss know our plans—broad strokes—and then we can hit the town. I feel like celebrating."

Neo jumped to her feet in happiness—Cinder suspected that Neo had been funding her stay through pickpocketing—but Adam instead reached out and grabbed Cinder by the hips. "I think I want to stay in," he said huskily.

"Oh," Cinder replied, running her hand over his jaw. "Well, I suppose that can be arranged." She looked at Neo. "You don't mind?"

Neo shrugged. She hesitated, and for a wild moment, Cinder thought the assassin was going to ask her and Adam to make it a threesome. Then she let out a sudden giggle, blew them a kiss, and skipped out the door to find her own fun.

Cinder pulled Adam to his feet and led him over to the bed. "You know, I know this wonderful place in Berlin…" He ran his fingers up and down her sides as she took off his mask, bending down and kissing the scar. "You know, I still don't know what SDC stands for…"

"Schnee Deutsches Corporation," he said, kissing her neck. "The old name for Schnee GmbH. I used to work for them, a lifetime ago." He pulled her hair back gently, exposing the ruined side of her face. "Keep the tuxedo on," he instructed. "For now."

Twelve restless hours later, Cinder was awakened by sunlight streaming through the window, though the dawn was on the opposite side of the hotel. She dreamily stared at the blue sky, and her tuxedo—which was draped across the chair, and on the floor, partially covering the map. Then she rolled over to put her arms on those wonderfully sculpted pectorals of Adam Taurus…and there was nothing there. The bed was cold.

Cinder sat up. They'd made love twice during the night, the second time with such intensity that she'd been in a state of pleasant stupefaction when it was over, and had fallen asleep quickly. She spotted something on the table, a folded origami crane. She got up and padded naked over to the table, unfolding the crane, and read the note.

You are a beautiful woman, Cinder Fall. I hope to see you again someday—all of you. These last few weeks have made me live again. Perhaps I will find you after I've revenged myself on Blake Belladonna. But if not, they call Beirut the Paris of the Middle East. If so, we can say we will always have Paris. You may consider this a waste, but just as you must have your revenge on Ruby Rose, I must have mine on Blake.

Adam

Cinder tossed the note back onto the table, walked to the window, and stared out over the ocean. "You damn fool," she whispered. "You damn fool."

AUTHOR'S OTHER NOTES: So in this world, Lebanon never fell into civil war (the factions there decided there was a much bigger threat than each other), and Yugoslavia hasn't broken up (once more, the various people of Yugoslavia stuck together in the face of a common enemy, this time the GRIMM). Algeria has reverted to being a French colony, and apparently Malta is still part of the British Empire. Maybe someday I'll write a "World of RWBY Wings" chapter, but for now, I like dropping these little world-building hints. I also realized that, in an earlier chapter, I still had Adam with "SDC" imprinted on his face, so I had to do a saving throw on that one.

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