AUTHOR'S NOTES: Whew! Sorry I'm a little late with this one, but I hit some writers' block again. Since there is no Amity Arena in this story, I had to change things around a bit. It's not easy trying to stay close to canon RWBY in a world that's completely different. Fun, but not easy. This is another talky chapter...very talky, but we have to get Ruby and Company on their tracks for "Season 8."

The first scene with some of the ladies being, shall we say, without apparel isn't fanservice. (Well, not entirely.) Part of it is actually setting up for something later on, while the other is just a reflection of military life. My dad was in the Navy as well as the USAF, and he remarked that modesty was something you lost fairly quick when the temperature belowdecks was 110 and there was no one around but other guys. You just got used to that sort of thing. He knew one guy who walked down a passageway naked as a jaybird, right past a visiting officers' group. When his CO chewed him out, the guy replied "I was in the shower, sir. This is my house, sir." The officer didn't know how to respond to that, so he let it go.

Swidwin Air Base, Republic of Poland

31 August 2001

The door to the squad bay was flung open, causing several people to levitate out of their bunks. The lights came on next, as Joanna Greenleaf showed no mercy. "Get up! Up!" she shouted. "Robyn wants all of you in the command post in twenty minutes." She turned and slammed the door behind her.

"What time is it?" Yang said, her voice muffled. Her head was down in her pillow.

"0500," Ruby groaned.

"Oh geez." Yang managed to generate enough energy to roll out of her bunk, which luckily was the lower one. Once on the cold linoleum, she slowly got to her feet, yawned, scratched her rear end, and shook the unmoving form of Blake in the top bunk. "C'mon, Blakey, time to wakey." There was no independent movement, other than the bare flick of an ear. "Let's go, Ruby Three. Stop your grinnin' and drop your linen."

"G'way," Blake mumbled.

"Guys or girls on the showers?" Ren asked.

"Given that you're the only guy here, go for it," Weiss replied. Ren realized she was right—with Oscar in the hospital, he was the only guy present among six females. He threw Weiss a half-smile, grabbed his towel and some fresh underwear out of a suitcase, and went into the shower. Weiss watched Nora, wondering if she was going to follow her fiancee, and prepared to stop her if she did; that was time they didn't have right now for the two lovebirds to shower together. To Weiss' surprise, other than a wistful look, Nora merely started laying out her things.

Unable to wake Blake up by cajoling her, Yang went for the direct approach, flinging the covers off of her—and blushed, because the Faunus had apparently taken to sleeping nude. Blake instantly curled into a ball, then, after sparing Yang a homicidal glance, leaned back and stretched like a cat, down to yawning like one. Yang couldn't help but stare.

"Blake, what the hell?" Ruby asked. "You're naked!"

Blake, coming fully awake, moved to cover herself, then shrugged and jumped out of the bunk. "So what. It was hot as hell in here last night." She raised her voice. "Anyone here not seen me naked? At Beacon or elsewhere?"

"I haven't!" Ren shouted from the shower, just before the water cut on. "And I'd prefer to it to stay that way!"

Blake made a there-you-are gesture and knelt to grab some underwear from her suitcase. Ruby snickered to Weiss. "Oh my. How lewd." Then she went silent as Pyrrha got up, yawned, and walked towards the women's bathroom…also without a stitch to her name.

The seven pilots walked into the command post, set underground about 500 yards from the tarmac. They had gotten used to thinking of the Happy Huntresses as four women—Robyn Hill, Joanna Greenleaf, May Marigold, and Fiona Thyme—and had forgotten that Robyn actually had an entire squadron of twelve aircraft at her command, with the associated ground crew and support personnel. Some of the latter were busy in the command post. Against one wall was a laminated map of Poland, showing present positions of NATO divisions and air squadrons. Ruby checked it, and did not like what she saw: the Danes and the Poles had lost ground in the north. Not much, but the loss was noticeable. In the south, the Americans were being pressed up against the Warta, with the 1st Armored trying to fall back behind the river.

She turned at the sound of Robyn's voice. The leader of the Happy Huntresses was standing behind a table with a radar return set into it, the duplicate of what the base's ground radars were seeing—which included that of the AWACS, now fifty miles back into Germany. "Affirmative, Fiona. The Slupsk sector along the coast is going to need the most help. I'm sending you, May, Lina and Amelia up there. With snake and nape you should be able to put the hurt on the GRIMM. Understood?"

"Roger that!" they heard Fiona reply over the radio. Ruby translated the military slang in her head: snake and nape was Snakeye bombs, designed for low-level release, and napalm. It was devastating to GRIMM, but it also meant whoever was calling for help needed something close in. Danger close was never an ideal situation.

"Cute boy Oscar!" Nora said happily, and charged across the room. To Ruby's surprise, Oscar Pine was there as well, in a wheelchair near Robyn, looking pale with an IV still attached to his arm. He held up his hands in terror as he thought Nora was going to tackle him, but she stopped just short and gave him a gentle hug. Ruby was about to do the same when Robyn pulled off her headset and stopped her. "Captain Rose, please bring your group over here, please."

The seven—now eight—pilots assembled around Robyn. "I'm afraid I have very little good news," she began. "As you can see from the map, Salem is steadily forcing us back. The forces in the north have yet to break, and they may not." She pointed back to the map. "The German 10th Panzer Division crossed the border last night while you were asleep—without orders, apparently, which is a switch." Robyn glanced at Weiss; Ruby had a feeling the mercenary leader had inherited the Polish general dislike for the Germans. "Still, it's going to be touch and go for awhile. And the Americans are still trying to get one division across the river; they're being delayed by refugee traffic—"

Joanna walked into the command post, with a sidelong look at the pilots of Ruby and Norn Flights. "She's here," is all she said to Robyn.

"She actually showed up? Well, wonders never cease. As soon as she can, bring her down here." Joanna gave a sharp nod and left. "Anyway, I have more bad news. Your commanding officer, Qrow Branwen, was arrested yesterday. He's in Spandau right now."

"What?" Ruby exclaimed. "Uncle Qrow?"

"How did that happen?" Yang asked, in no less strident a voice. "And how do you know?"

Robyn spread her hands. "Ironwood called me. That's right, SACEUR himself. Woke me up, too, the prick. Apparently your uncle was ordered to come here, gather all of you up, and fly you out to Lakenheath. He refused, so Ironwood had him arrested."

Yang collapsed into a chair. "Oh, Jesus."

"Ironwood told me to tell you, Ruby, that if you leave Swidwin today, and go to Lakenheath, Qrow will be released and all charges dropped. If not, he's going to some place called Leavenworth. That's a military prison, right?"

"Yeah," Ruby replied tightly. She weighed it for a second. There was still time to leave; Ironwood would probably keep his word. Then she looked at the map, and around the room. No, Ruby thought, these people still need our help, dammit. I'm not running from Salem! "We're not leaving," she told Robyn, then checked her people for any objection. There was none, and most of them were nodding.

"Good, because I can damn sure use you. I hope you're ready to work." Robyn's hands swept across the radar map. "We've got the largest GRIMM horde seen since the 1960s coming at us, and there's a country full of people who need help—and Ironwood's abandoning us, pulling everything back to the Oder to defend Germany. He's doing it damned slowly, which I appreciate, but that is what he's doing. We're happy to give you guys some shelter outside of Ironwood's jurisdiction, but if you're going to stay, you're going to help."

"How?" They all turned to Ren. "Militarily, Ironwood has a point. Poland is mostly flat, and we've lost the only real high ground between the Vistula and the Oder. Half of the NATO force has its back to a river. Falling back behind the Oder is—militarily—smart thinking." All of them stared at him, aghast. "Am I wrong?" Ren asked.

"No," Robyn sighed, "militarily you're not wrong. But I'm not going to abandon what's left of Poland to Salem's tender mercies. It would be like inviting Hitler back in—and I assume you all know what happened when he was here." They did. No one among the eight pilots, not even Chinese-born Ren, was unaware of the horrors the Nazis had perpetrated in Poland. "So what I'm planning on doing is building a new defense line between the rivers, as best we can. The longer we stand, the sooner Ironwood and the world realize that Poland is not going to go quietly into the night!" Robyn clenched a fist, then smiled sheepishly. "Sorry…I am a politician as well as fighter pilot, as you might remember." She turned to Pyrrha. "Major Nikos, are you in command, or is Captain Rose?"

Pyrrha shook her head. "Ruby is in command. I have officially resigned my commission." A small, humorless smile. "I'm along for the ride."

"Right. Ruby." Robyn reached forward and tapped at the area around east of the town of Pila. "I imagine you'd feel more comfortable working with American units, so—"

"Hold up, Robyn. I think we need to look at something else." Ruby glanced around. "We're not going to win this thing by just holding on, right? I mean, yeah, we can make it expensive for Salem, but so what? We don't know how many GRIMM she's got, and how much more she can bring in from wherever the damn things are built. I've got a better idea—"

The door to the command post opened before Ruby could finish her thought, delivering the second surprise of the morning. It was Penny Polendina, dressed in a flight suit, bodily carrying Pietro down the stairs. He wore a stunned expression. Behind Penny was Joanna, who looked equally stunned at just how strong the average-sized Penny was. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, Joanna quickly unfolded the wheelchair she had been carrying, and Penny put the scientist down into it gently. She blew out her breath and wiped her brow. "Whew! You need to lose some weight, Dad."

Ruby left off and went over to hug Penny, who returned it—luckily, as gently as Nora had hugged Oscar. "What are you doing here?"

"What was it Dad said? 'I come back to you now, at the turn of the tide.'" Penny shrugged. "It's from Star Wars or something."

Pietro groaned. "It's from Lord of the Rings, Penny." She looked confused, so Pietro smiled at Ruby. "We thought you might need a hand, so Penny loaded me into her B-1—" Ruby wished she had been there to see that—"and we flew over here."

"Oh shit," Yang said, getting to her feet. "Ironwood's going to have kittens when he finds out Penny's here. Hell, he might hit us with a damn airstrike."

"I don't know how long I'm staying," Penny admitted, in a quiet voice. She opened her mouth to say something, clearly thought better of it, and continued. "I'm…I still have to obey the general's orders…as long as it doesn't cause the death of more than just the bad guys. I just wanted my dad to be in a safer place." Ruby wasn't sure how being fifty miles closer to the GRIMM was making Pietro safer, but she was glad he was here.

"Oh, this is perfect!" Ruby cheered. "This is just what we needed, gang!"

"What is?" Pyrrha asked.

Ruby jogged back to the table. "Okay, I was saying that I had a better idea. Here it is: let's not just try to hold on to what we have. Let's go on the offensive!"

Robyn laughed, without much humor either. "Oh, the innocence of youth. Ruby, I appreciate the sentiment, but we don't have that kind of resources—even if we could get Ironwood to agree, and I guarantee he won't."

"I know!" Ruby agreed. "That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying we find out where Salem is, and we bomb the shit out of it! Take her out. She dies, and her followers will probably haul ass back to Russia, or surrender, or whatever. Yeah, sure, we've still got a GRIMM problem, but without her leadership, they won't be as big of a threat!"

"Just take out Salem?" Yang snorted. "C'mon, Rubes, I'm pretty sure the brass have thought about that one already."

"No, wait," Blake said. "Ruby may be right." At Yang's disbelieving look, she continued. "Think about it. All these years, we never knew who was really running the GRIMM. We didn't even know if anyone was. Well, now we know. And, given the force we're facing, I think we can assume that Salem is here in person."

Robyn was leaning forward, intrigued despite herself. "How?"

"The last time she communicated with Ironwood." Weiss stepped into the conversation now. "She said she would sign a permanent ceasefire with him if he agreed to her terms." She almost mentioned JINN, but caught herself; Weiss wasn't sure if Robyn knew about the supercomputer, and didn't feel like mentioning that Neo Politan had stolen it right from under their nose. "That would imply that she's close enough to meet with Ironwood."

"Assuming Salem wasn't bullshitting him." Yang had elected herself devil's advocate.

"Yeah, but I think Blake's right. She's here in Poland, somewhere," Weiss returned. "It makes sense."

"Question is, where," Robyn said.

Ruby looked at Pietro. "Dr. Polendina? Is there a way you could pinpoint Salem's location?"

Pietro rubbed his chin in thought. "Maybe. We've theorized for years that the GRIMM are controlled somehow—the ones that randomly attack, no, but in big offensives like this, they would almost have to be. Salem's not just throwing the GRIMM at us; she's careful at how she's using them. If I could figure out how…" His voice trailed off as he became lost in thought.

"You might not know," Ruby grinned, "but I bet someone does. And she's right here in Poland…or at least, Germany."

"Who?" Robyn wanted to know.

"Rissa Arashikaze," Weiss explained. "But how would she know, Ruby? I'll grant that she's the DDI of the CIA, but still."

"The Nuckalevee." Ren nodded. "The one we destroyed at Kuroyuri. It was captured somewhat intact, the only GRIMM that ever has been." He rubbed his chin in thought. "She just might know, at that."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Yang said, putting up her hands. "Ruby, Arashikaze is pissed at us. She's liable to toss us in the slammer next to Uncle Qrow. And there's no way Ironwood's going to sign off on us talking to her."

"He doesn't have to," Ruby told her sister. "I think Arashikaze will talk to us."

"That's a big if, Rubes."

"If she knows how the GRIMM get their orders, then I might could triangulate it," Pietro said. "I might need an elevated position, though. Something in the air."

"Can I do it?" Penny asked.

Pietro patted his adopted daughter's hand. "No, kiddo. I need something more sophisticated."

Weiss covered her eyes. "Oh, no. We're going to have to steal the Commando Solo, aren't we? It's got everything we need." She couldn't believe she was even putting the idea into Ruby's head, because her friend was crazy enough to try it.

Ruby indeed looked like she was about to suggest just that, but Robyn cleared her throat. "I'm going to veto that idea, folks. We go stealing something top secret like the EC-130, and Ironwood will bloody well turn us to ashes. I'm liking Short Stack's idea, but there has to be another way."

"Let me think about this some more," Pietro suggested. "We'll need to figure out how to contact Arashikaze anyway."

Oscar raised his hand. "Just to clarify here—this is the easy option?"

"I must agree with Oscar," Ren said. "Ruby, your suggestion has merit, but how many of us would die in the attempt, even if we do find Salem's headquarters? And that assumes we can even kill her—Salem has been very intelligent so far, so wherever her headquarters is, it's either mobile or it's underground. We'll get one chance at this, and if we fail, we've thrown lives away on something that may be pointless."

Ruby's fists balled in frustration, and everyone jumped when she suddenly slammed one of those fists onto the map. "Dammit, Ren! We've got to do something besides sit here and wait for Salem to wipe us out! Does anyone think she's going to stop at Poland?" She pointed at Robyn. "She's right—Salem's like frigging Hitler. And he didn't stop with Poland either." Ruby winked at her sister. "C'mon, Yang, you know I'm right too."

To her surprise, Yang hesitated. "Ruby…I just don't know." She sighed, and sat back down, unable to meet her sister's eyes. "We've screwed up a lot since we got here. We didn't tell Ironwood about…well, you know." She gave Robyn a sidelong glance. "And Blake and me spilled the beans to Robyn here. Ironwood's out of line, yeah, but we did disobey orders all over the place. And we're sitting here, right now, all of us, disobeying more of them. Uncle Qrow's in jail because of us. I'm not saying we should go to Lakenheath or anything, but…I don't know," she repeated. "Ironwood kind of has a point. Even if we win, then what? Our careers are probably over. Letters of reprimand, if we're not hung for mutiny." She shrugged. "Figuratively speaking…I hope. We're not heroes anymore, Rubes. Heck…we're one step away from fugitives. And a lot of it is our fault."

Ruby's mouth dropped open. She had expected that from someone—Ren, Weiss, even Pyrrha. But not her own sister. And maybe she's right, Ruby thought to herself. How the hell did we get into this?

Ren cleared his throat into the silence. "We can debate this forever," he said, "but there are people here who need us right now." He tapped on the map. "That's something we can actually do."

"But this isn't just about Atlas!" This was another surprise: it was Nora. "Ruby's right, Ren. If we kill Salem, then we don't have to worry about Poland anymore! And we'll save a ton of those refugees too." She fixed him with a hard glare. "And we know what that's like, Ren." He didn't turn away, leaving the two lovers glowering at each other.

"Very well, then." Pyrrha put her hands behind her back. "Perhaps I have the solution. We'll do both." At their questioning looks, Pyrrha half-smiled. "We hold what's left of Poland and we find Salem to kill her."

Ruby bit her lip. "I don't know, Pyrrha…that's how Salem got this far, by dividing us. We need to stick together."

"I think Pyrrha has a point," Oscar put in. "Salem wants us to turn against each other, but we can work seperately, towards a common cause. Even Ironwood would agree with that." Maybe, he added to himself.

"All right. We form two teams. One plans to take out Salem when we figure out where her HQ is. The second helps Robyn." Ruby put her hands on her hips. "I guess that just leaves who's doing what. I guess I'll lead the kill-Salem group."

Pyrrha nodded. "I'll lead the defense group." She paused, and looked down. "If you'll have me. I resigned my commission. Technically, I have no rank…or a country."

"Yeah, you do." Robyn walked around the table, took off her wings—which were a stylized version of the Huntress emblem and RAF-style feathered wings—and pinned them on Pyrrha. "There. You're now a Happy Huntress, with the rank of Captain. Joanna would be very browned off if I made you equal in rank to her." She shook hands with a wide-eyed Pyrrha. "Welcome aboard, Captain Nikos. I've honestly always wanted you in my unit."

"I…I…I suppose…" Pyrrha stammered.

With that, they divided up the flights. Since the Huntresses already had quite a bit in the way of resources, it was agreed that—for now—they would be helped by Pyrrha, Yang, and Nora, with Oscar joining as soon as he was able, though that wouldn't be for a few weeks. Assuming they weren't all dead by then, of course. The four would now be Pyon Flight, which was Ruby's idea.

Speaking of Ruby, the flight assigned to figure out where Salem was—with the understanding that, if they did find Salem, it would be an all-77th strike—would be led by Ruby, joined by Weiss, Blake, and Ren. No one wanted to be Roober Flight (the closest thing to RWBR), so they decided on resurrecting Reaper Flight. It sounded better. Penny would assist as she could, and Robyn assigned May Marigold as Reaper's liasion officer. Reaper would still be available to fight GRIMM when needed, but finding Salem was their first priority.

Robyn dismissed them to get some breakfast. Reaper Flight 2.0 walked out of the command post into the morning sunlight. "Well," Ruby sighed, "so now all we have to do is convince Arashikaze to help us, and figure out how to get Pietro high enough to do the triangulation work." She shrugged. "Should be easy enough. Robyn's got to have something with two seats around here."

"That's not going to work," Weiss told her. "I imagine Pietro's going to need some specialized equipment. Too big for a fighter."

"Okay, like what? I don't think Robyn has C-130s or anything."

Weiss smiled. "Oh, we don't need quite something the size of a C-130. I think I might actually have an idea."

"That just leaves who's going to talk to Arashikaze," Ren said. "I will go."

Ruby shook her head. "No, Arashikaze's going to be behind some pretty heavy duty security. She might throw you in the pokey with Uncle Qrow."

"Who, then?"

Ruby winked. "I think I might actually have an idea."

Spandau Castle

Berlin, Federal Republic of Germany

31 August 2001

Arthur Watts yawned. He was in a barren room lined with stone, obviously part of the former prison area of the castle, with only one chair—the one he was sitting on. There was a counter that held two bottles of water and some food. He was not alone: there was an unsmiling Military Policeman watching him, and Watts knew there were three more on the other side of the locked, steel door. Next to the MP was a camera, the red light on. There were no windows. He was not handcuffed, but Watts had never been much of a brawler. He had no illusions that the MP could not easily render him inert in moments. Nor were there any weapons handy: there was no silverware with the food, and he had been thoroughly searched before being brought here. Watts had endured the humiliation with a sardonic smile, knowing it angered his guards. Still, he was a prisoner, accorded certain rights, and he had not been mistreated. He had heard voices, so he knew he wasn't the only prisoner in Spandau. Watts wondered what had become of Neo, or Cinder. The former was probably in another prison, or moldering in a ditch somewhere; Cinder was either still hiding or had joined Salem—which meant that Cinder could be in another prison or moldering in a ditch somewhere. Salem did not take continued failure lightly.

The door opened, admitting a short woman with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was wearing worn-out, rather tight blue jeans and a nauseatingly green shirt that loudly proclaimed in neon pink letters I WENT TO THE RUINS OF DETROIT AND ALL I GOT WAS AN IRRADIATED T-SHIRT. Her flip flops made a squeaking noise as she walked across the stone floor, carrying a folded chair. She unfolded it and set it down. "Good morning, Dr. Watts."

"I don't believe I've had the pleasure," Watts replied guardedly. This had to be a ploy of some kind. There had been no interrogation to this point, only sullen guards and dark promises from Ironwood. Watts steeled himself; this had to be the beginning.

"I'm Rissa Arashikaze. Deputy Director of Intelligence for the Central Intelligence Agency." She went over to the counter. "Hungry?" She picked up a biscuit and started eating it. "Mmm. Kentucky Fried Chicken. Almost as good as back home." She offered it to him. "Sure you don't want a bite?"

Watts shook his head. She shrugged and finished the biscuit, then washed it down with some of the water. He kept his face impassive, but inside he was roiling. If this was Arashikaze, the dreaded torturer, she certainly wasn't what he expected. She sat down across from him. "You can leave," she said to the MP behind her. "And shut off the camera." The guard did so. The red light on the camera went out as he shut the door.

Here it comes, Watts thought. His eyes darted to the water bottles. Waterboarding. That's how she will start.

Arashikaze took another drink of water. She'd noted where he was looking and smiled. "So, Dr. Watts—or may I call you Arthur? You can call me Rissa, if you like." She crossed her legs and leaned back in the chair. "What should we talk about?"

"You are in control…Rissa," Watts replied.

"Am I?" She looked around the room. "You've got easily a foot on me, Arthur. Probably don't keep yourself in the best shape, but you're hardly overweight—skinny, if anything. Your hands are untied. So are your feet. What's stopping you from taking me hostage and demanding to be set free?"

Watts snorted. "I'm no fool, Rissa. I know a little about you, eh? Black ops, back in the day? I attack you, you cripple me. At the very least, you get the excuse to torture me."

Arashikaze laughed. "I need an excuse to torture you? Please, Arthur. You're officially deceased, remember? You're not even listed as being in this prison. You have no legal rights, and it's not like the CIA has ever cared about those anyway, not with people like you. There's no lawyers to get you out of this. There's just you and me." She took a longer drink, the smile never leaving her lips. "Besides, who said I'm going to torture you?"

Watts laughed now, ironically. "Oh, just about everyone. Ironwood has made you out to be the boogeyman."

Arashikaze set aside the water bottle. It was about a third full. "Well, would you like me to torture you? I mean, I guess I could."

Watts was silent for a moment. This was not going to the scenario he'd built up. He'd seen a picture of Rissa Arashikaze, so this was definitely her, but the picture was of an unsmiling bureaucrat, wearing a severe-cut business suit—someone who he could readily believe ordered the death of people on a daily basis. He expected to be subjected to torture from the beginning. Watts had no intention of holding out indefinitely, assuming that was even possible: he held some loyalty to Salem, but not worth his life, or excruciating pain. He did intend to make them work for it: he was Doctor Arthur Watts, after all, and he had his own reputation to live up to. "You're giving me the choice of being tortured?" he finally asked.

"Mm-hm." She folded her arms across her small bust.

"What did you have in mind?" Watts needed to buy time. Arashikaze had thrown him off balance, but that was her intention. He needed to get some equilibrium here.

"Oh, I don't know. Waterboarding is a classic, but it's not that bad. It's been done to me. Not fun, but honestly, my sorority back at Vassar was worse." She tapped her chin in thought. "Let's see…there's the rack, but I'd have to find a more medieval castle for that one…India used to heat up a bed with hot coals and then put people on that. That was rough. Then there's the Chinese wire jacket." She shuddered. "Yikes. I don't think even I'm capable of that. Hmm…the SS had this thing where they would put a glass thermometer up a man's penis, then—"

Watts held up a hand; he really did not want to hear the rest of that sentence. He had also realized that she was making fun of him. "You're not going to torture me."

She shrugged. "I can, but I'd rather not. There's so much screaming."

"Then if you're not going to torture me, you want to make a deal with me." Watts grinned beneath the mustache. Now this was something he could work with. He folded his hands in front of him and slouched in the chair. "I think we can do business, Rissa."

"Good to hear." She uncapped the water bottle and finished it. "So where is Salem's headquarters? Not where she is now—I know you don't know that—but her main base."

"I don't know," Watts lied. "You see, she was careful about that sort of thing. We were passed through various checkpoints—blindfolds, cutouts, one leg of the journey not aware of the next, etcetera."

Arashikaze nodded. "Naturally. But you're a very smart man, Arthur. Surely you figured it out."

He had, Watts reflected. Initially, Salem had used that method to bring him to Mount Yamantau, but she also knew that he would indeed know where they were—just a casual look at the terrain told him that. "I'm rather surprised you didn't start off with soft questions first."

"We can get to those later. Where is it, Arthur?"

"I don't know. As I said, she was very careful." Watts considered telling this small woman everything. What did he owe Salem? But he also knew something else: Salem's arm could be very long, and he wouldn't have joined her group if he didn't think Salem could win. If she did, and found out he had divluged her greatest secret, her only regret would be that she could kill Arthur Watts only once.

Arashikaze let the silence stretch uncomfortably long. Watts felt himself starting to sweat. "Okay," she finally said. "We'll come back to that one." She looked over to the other water bottle. "Did you want that other one? I'm thirsty. It's hot as hell outside."

"Go ahead." She got up and grabbed the other bottle, opening it as she leaned against the counter. "You haven't told me what I would get in return for helping you."

She took a drink. "What would you like?"

"A full pardon." Watts knew that if she answered in the affirmative, he was being set up.

"No, I don't think so."

He flashed her another grin. "How about a job?"

Arashikaze pointed the water bottle at him. "Now we're talking. I could use a man of your skills, Arthur. A man who can hack a top secret autonomous bomber, or steal an election?" She winked. "Now that's what we're all about at CIA." She grabbed the second biscuit off the tray, pried it open with a finger, and poured honey inside.

"I am a little hungry," Watts admitted.

"I'll send out for more of this." Arashikaze bit into the biscuit, and she closed her eyes in pure pleasure. "Mmm! Damn, this is good." He waited until she had chewed and swallowed. "So I was thinking, say, $80,000 a year. Not much, but Congress has been getting pissy with my shadow budget since Beacon. Free run at our computers, naturally." She tossed back more of the water. "You'd probably have to shave off the mustache, though. Salem or the White Fang might come after you. You never know."

"A sacrifice I'm prepared to make." Watts felt his fingers twitching at the thought of being able to access the CIA's computers, the most advanced in the world. It would make JINN look like a GameBoy.

"But first, you have to give me something. Not Salem's headquarters—not yet. How about Neo Politan's hideouts?"

"With pleasure." Watts was more than happy to betray the little assassin. There was something about Arashikaze that reminded him of Neo—probably their short stature, hiding a murderous intent, he thought. He listed the ones he knew, which was far more than Neo thought he knew about. Arashikaze nodded, clearly memorizing the names.

"Salem's tactical headquarters?" she asked.

"I don't know," Watts answered truthfully. "She'll be moving around a lot."

"I imagine so. Salem's real name?"

Watts hesitated. "Her first name is Natasha. I don't know her last name, I'm afraid."

Arashikaze waved it off. "Is Cinder Fall a real name?"

Watts shrugged at that. "No, but I have no idea what her real name is."

"Does Salem intend to stop at the Oder, or keep going?"

"I don't think she intends to go further than that. The further west she gets, the longer her southern flank, and she hasn't attacked the Czech Republic. As they are part of NATO, she could expect a counterattack from there."

"True." Arashikaze suddenly belched. "Pardon me." She reached down and pulled off her belt, letting out a breath. "I need to lay off the fast food. I'm gaining weight. Pants are getting too tight." Watts didn't feel like mentioning that Arashikaze's pants looked like she had been poured into them—not that he minded; she had very nice hips. "Well, that should do it for now, Arthur. I wanted to see what you were willing to give me for a start."

He looked at her. "Rissa, now you're insulting my intelligence. There is something you want from me, besides Salem's location."

Arashikaze glanced towards the door, then walked over and unplugged the camera. Then she returned. The belt was wound around her left fist, and Watts' heart rate increased as he thought she was going to hit him. But instead she knelt next to him and dropped her voice to almost a whisper. "The Winter Maiden."

Watts' mouth dropped open; he hadn't been expecting that one at all. "Are you serious?"

"Most definitely. I can't trust these damn Europeans, Arthur, and there's no way in hell I can get control of the Fall Maiden or the Spring Maiden. I want you to hack the Winter Maiden."

He nodded slowly, realization spreading over his face. "Ah…now I understand. I hack into the Winter Maiden, then I give you Salem, and then you use it on her. No messy dealing with the EU and Congress, or your President, or James Ironwood. Just Rissa Arashikaze and the Rods from God."

Arashikaze slapped him on the back as she stood. "I knew we understood each other, Arthur. Can you do it?"

"If I have access to a computer, certainly."

"Then I'll give it to you."

Watts put up his hands. "Let me amend that. I will try. The Maiden bracelets were hard enough."

"I've every confidence in you. Glad we could do business." She put out a hand. "I trust you about as much as I trust a rattlesnake with rabies, but sometimes you have to shake hands with the devil."

"Indeed so." Watts took her right hand, and Arashikaze punched him in the face with her left.

Watts rocked back in the chair, then fell to his knees: the blow had been placed exactly where it needed to be to daze him. As he shook his head and blinked, trying to clear the sudden fuzziness out of his brain, his ears ringing, she hit him again. This time he fell full length on the cool floor, only semi-conscious. He put up no resistance as she pulled off the belt from around his pants. Arashikaze put a knee into the small of his back, grabbed both his wrists and pulled them behind him, and wrapped his own belt around them, tightening the belt as far as it could go. The awkward position caused pain to shoot up both arms, and Watts gasped in agony. The gasp rose to a scream as she pulled his arms straight out behind him, his wrists still clasped together, and tightened her belt further up his forearms. The pain took his breath away: his arms felt like they were on fire, his shoulders felt close to dislocation, and his chest felt like someone was cutting him lengthwise.

She leaned down to his ear, still kneeling on his back. "We can do business, Dr. Watts, but the moment you betray me, either for your own ends or Salem's, and I will do this to you again." He tried to move his legs, but she dug her knee into a kidney. "And next time I will not stop until I have belts all the way to your shoulders. Then I will hang you up somewhere until your fingers rot off. You won't be able to use your computers then, will you?"

"You…said…no…" he struggled out.

"I said I'd rather not. It didn't mean that I wouldn't." She grabbed a handful of his hair, pulling his head back painfully. "You're going to give me the Winter Maiden and Salem's headquarters, Arthur. I guarantee it. Don't fuck with me, and you might just get that cushy job we talked about. Fuck with me, and I will keep you alive as long as I can, doing this—" she jerked on his wrists, elitciting another groan of pain "—for as a long as I can. And I can do it a very, long time. Now do you understand?"

"Y-Yes!" Watts managed to say.

"Good." She loosened both belts and took them off. Watts' arms fell bonelessly to one side. She took a drink of water, poured the rest on his head, and walked out, leaving the door open behind her. "Take him back to his cell. Get him some KFC." The guard nodded, his face pale.

Arashikaze found a bathroom and washed her hands. She was taking a huge risk, she knew, but the end would be worth it. After she was finished and left, another MP came up to her. "Ma'am, there's someone here for you. She's waiting in General Ironwood's office."

"Who is it?"

"I think she said her name was Maria Calavera, ma'am." The guard looked a bit afraid. "Do you know her?"