They pulled up to a small old hangar about a two hours drive from the city. It reminded Sammy a little of Barney's hangar, the big metal walls painted and labeled "Ross Aviation." This one wasn't so domineering or as branded, instead it was just a little box in a field with an airstrip next to it. Cap pulled up and parked her car just to the side of the closed hangar door.

Bones and Angel didn't say anything as they got out and started gathering their things. Sammy followed suit, still feeling shaky from her encounter with Bonaparte. She didn't know anything about him, but he still seemed to know everything about her. Was that her life now? Was she just a commodity to be passed around and used and paid for?

Probably, she decided. The least she could do was be good at it.

Cap pulled an old dusty tarp out from a little storage bin that rested along the side of the building and started draping it over her car. The dust billowed up and tickled Sammy's nose. The light from the sun was reflecting so heavily off the wall of the hangar that from where she stood, it looked like a solid square of white standing in an open field. She lifted a hand to shield her eyes and blinked the brightness away, her bag slung limply over her shoulder.

"Hopefully the plane blows most of these tire tracks away," Cap said as she finished covering her car. She gave the draped hood a solid pat and sighed. "Not that anybody would wanna take this thing."

"I'm sure we'll have some groupies," Angel said, testing her balance on the pavement for a moment. "Best not to leave any breadcrumbs."

Sammy knew they were talking about the Expendables. The odds were high that they would know exactly where to look for Sammy, if they hadn't started already. At least the women had a head start. At least they'd be out of the country soon.

Sammy caught sight of Bones watching Angel walk towards the small door of the hangar and felt a tug in her heart. For all of Bones's brawn, and for all of Angel's independence, they really seemed to have found something special; something gentle, sweet, and right. Sammy thought about Lee for a second, remembering a time when all she needed to be content was his presence in her life and his hand over hers. She wondered if he ever watched her walk away the way Bones was currently watching Angel. She couldn't picture it, though. He always seemed upset when she left. She didn't even want to think about how angry he would be if she ever made it back with Bee.

Bones heaved up a few bags and started towards the hangar. Sammy followed a few feet behind, breathing in the blaring southern air, heated and dry now that they were further from the water and swamps. It was fresh and lively by her home, even though sometimes she hated the humidity. Out in the field it was different, a transition into lifelessness.

The hangar was much more simple than Barney's. There was much less there to occupy the space and the plane that was there was smaller than the one the Expendables used for missions. It still towered over them, imposing and heavy with the weight of their approaching mission. There was a row of lockers along one of the walls, some decorated with photographs and some haphazardly painted. Sammy could see Tool covering the walls with art, or the guys graffiti-ing their dumb little phrases on every locker. They always did have a flare for the dramatics. She thought they might like the little place and would even want to hang out there with the other women if circumstances had been different. If Sammy had been different.

Bones dropped her luggage with a bang in front of a locker and snapped it open with a metallic click. She smiled wide and reached in, waving some dust out of her face as she did.

"Hell yeah!" She said, pulling a ratty old green cargo jacket from inside. "Just where I left it."

She slipped it on over her clothes and slowly adjusted it before she held out her arms with a crooked grin.

"How do I look?"

"About the same as always," Angel said. "And like you're ready for a fight."

"I'd say it looks like you got a lot of pockets," Cap chuckled as she reached for what Sammy assumed was her own locker.

"More space for goodies!" Bones said, dropping her hands to her hips. "These pockets have saved your life before, so I'd be careful what you say about them."

Cap rolled her eyes but was laughing nevertheless. Bones clapped a few more clouds of dust out of the thick jacket and smiled to herself. There were more lockers than people, but most of them had stuff in them. Sammy wondered if all of it belonged to the women or if there had been more people before. She didn't think she should ask; she'd learned that with the Expendables early on in working jobs with them. Barney hung the dog tags in the plane to remind everyone of the people they lost, but despite acknowledging their impact on all of their lives, none of them liked talking about those people very much. They were just a jingle now, just a glint of light caught on the silver metal. Maybe it was the same with the lockers. Maybe they were just reminders of the price that came with the job. Reminders of the people that came and went just like the money they made. A flash of memory that served only one purpose: to keep the dead alive. Sammy licked her dried out lips and watched, hearing the faint jingle of the dog tags from Barney's plane in her mind. If she didn't return, would they hang up her tags with the others? Would Lee hear the jingle and think of her laugh or her voice?

"Sammy, feel free to lock anything up that you wanna leave," Cap said, digging through her own locker for a moment. "And pack whatever you want. We don't know much about this mission so we're gonna wanna be prepared for anything."

Sammy nodded and made her way down the row of old lockers. Some of them were a bit rusty and showing signs of age, but most were well-kept and organized. She reached out and opened up one that was askew and waved a bit of dust out of her face. There were knifes hanging on the thin metal walls and laying in assorted piles at the base of the locker, all shining in the light she let in. The throwing blades reminded her of Lee again, who she knew would take them without hesitation. She reached in and grabbed a few, testing their sharpness before she slid them into her belt. She thought that by choosing his weapon, maybe he would stay close to her; protect her. It wasn't that she didn't want to be protected. Maybe it was that she didn't want to just be protected. Lee was so scared of losing who he loved that he hardly left room for anyone to breathe.

"I'm packing the ammo into the duffel and loading it up," Angel said.

"Careful getting on the plane," Bones said.

Angel grunted in response and walked away. Cap smirked to herself and shook her head. Bones kept digging through her locker and stuffing her pockets full of her "goodies"- extra bullets, a small revolver, and some tiny throwing blades that fit in the palm of her hand. She glanced up at Sammy and winked.

"Like what you see?" She teased.

"Just trying to see what kind of backup I have," Sammy said.

"The best kind," Bones assured, closing her locker and adjusting her jacket, now weighed down by her pockets. "We got you, Gogh."

They finished packing away their small arsenal and loaded the plane with the rest of their things; first-aid setups fitted with IV fluids and medications, small weapons to keep as spares just in case, and more mercenary necessities that Sammy no longer batted an eye at seeing.

Cap climbed through the small space through the back opening of the plane, ducking her head to avoid the hanging nets mounted to the ceiling to store extra bags and supplies. There were benches running along either side of the plane, sort of like the one Barney liked to fly with the team, but it was smaller and a bit more run down. Sammy looked around and shuddered.

"She's a reliable bird," Cap said, smiling back at Sammy as she climbed into the cockpit.

"When was the last time you flew this thing?" Sammy asked, running her hand along the wall. It seemed sturdy enough under her touch. She dropped her bag down on the bench.

"Don't worry about it," Cap said. "We'll do the usual checks."

Bones chuckled from behind them and slipped passed Sammy to store her stuff near the cockpit.

"That's code for: it's been a while," she said, smiling ear-to-ear.

Sammy grunted and moved to help secure the rest of the luggage down.

"We're gonna fly into Mexico as a private environmental business doing research," Angel said as she climbed onto the plane, steadying herself on the wall and ceiling above her head. "I pulled out the dress-up box."

"Who am I?" Bones asked, not looking up from her work.

"Cynthia Marshall, field assistant and researcher studying the impact of city run-off on the local environment," Angel said, fingering a file. "And Cap is Lauren Hailstorm, founder of our little group and looking to open a center somewhere in Mexico."

"Fancy," Cap said, turning on the controls of the plane. It vibrated beneath them.

"I'm a masters student studying environmental policy doing an internship with you. I attend a small college in Missouri," Angel said, sticking up a fake student ID and waving it around for a moment. "And Gogh here is an environmental activist documenting our journey."

She pulled out a camera and passed it over to Sammy, who held it out and studied it. She wiped some dust off the lens with the bottom of her shirt and flipped it over in her hands a few times.

"I'm Jennifer Smith and Sammy is Hope Houston," Angel finished, closing the files and tucking them away.

"Sounds good," Bones said. "But why the name Cynthia?"

"I didn't pick it, it's what we have," Angel said.

"It works," Cap said from the front. "Are we geared to go?"

"Just gotta close the hatch, boss," Bones said. "I got it."

Angel went quiet then, her jaw tightening as she moved to sit out of the way of Bones. Sammy watched her, uncertain, and then made her way over to sit down next to her. Bones finished securing the hatch and gave it a pat before she climbed into the seat beside Cap. The plane vibrated and tugged for a moment, and then they were moving. It was a slow roll, just out to the soiled tarmac, but the rattling sent Sammy into fighter mode; she was ready for whatever she would find when they arrived in Mexico, and the Expendables were just a shadow on her back that she could no longer feel near her.

—-

Barney's hangar was quiet and the air was heavy and thick as the Expendables gathered their belongings and prepared for a fight. They'd walked that routine a hundred times before, but this time it was different; this time they were after one of their own.

Lee was doing everything loudly and aggressively. He locked and loaded his guns with a loud click and slam, he sharpened his blades with a sharp hiss, and he stomped around as he sneered and loaded the plane. Barney kept chewing on a cigar, never bothering to light it because for once the idea of smoking didn't relax him; it reminded him too much of Lucie and that night in the jungle, and in his mind Lucie was berating him for not helping Sammy when he had the chance to do it right. She'd died to save someone she cared about, after all. Of course she would want him to help Sammy.

"Anybody know where the hell Gunner is?" Toll asked, breaking the silence and looking around while he held his packed duffle over one shoulder. He was stiff and searching, glancing from one man to the next.

"Haven't seen him since he ran out," Barney said, sparing a look in Lee's direction. He was moving quickly back and forth carrying crates onto the plane.

"Anyone tell him the plan?" Caesar asked. Lee passed by again.

"Couldn't find him," Barney said.

"Who cares," Lee grumbled, tossing down a bin and putting his hands on his hips. "Let's go."

"He would want to help," Toll said with a shrug. "He cares about Sammy."

"Can we just get this plane in the air?" Lee snapped, picking the crate back up and hauling it towards the plane. "We don't have time to wait for him to get his shit together."

Caesar shared a look with Toll and sighed. They knew the stakes were high, and that was why they needed their whole team. They couldn't afford to leave a side uncovered. Toll pulled out his phone and made his way out towards the tarmac, his duffle still slung over one shoulder and hanging from his fingers, his gear jangling with each step. He sighed and scrolled through his messages, landing on the contact labeled G.J.. Most of the recent messages were sent from Toll and were labeled as "read" but had never been responded to. His thumb hovered over the keyboard for a moment before he let out a breath and decided to hit "call" instead.

The phone rang for a minute before the automated voicemail message played. Toll shook his head and tightened his grip on the phone before the sound signaled that he was being recorded. He cleared his throat.

"Hey, Gun, man, we need you-" he started, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Lee wasn't eavesdropping. "Sammy needs you. She ran off to find Bee, and we have no clue where to look. We're packing the plane for a flight if we need one, but Lee is on some kind of tirade and wants to get the wheels up as soon as possible as though it'll help. We're gonna need you on this job, man. Just… Just call me back, alright? You better not be dead in an alley anywhere. It would be a really bad time for that."

He clicked off the call and looked down at the unanswered messages for another second. Barney was on his phone inside the hangar, calling in all the favors he could think of. Lee was still stuffing the plane full of gear and ammo. Caesar was leaning on an old crate and flipping his blade open and shut as he watched. He met Toll's eyes and shrugged.

—-

Lee climbed into his usual copilots seat and sunk in on himself. He closed his eyes and grabbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger as the sharp burn of a migraine made its way through his head like a storm cloud. He reached down slowly into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled letter Sammy had left that was addressed to only him. He'd read it over and over whenever he had a moment alone, mostly because he was afraid that the guys would see him break because of it. He had never broken so badly in front of them, and he refused to let it happen now. But in the quiet space of the cockpit alone, he could study the note and let himself feel without any fear. He unfolded the letter slowly, his fingers dragging over the words as he did. He could almost hear it in Sammy's voice. Her voice, which he associated with love and kindness and softness; her voice which was never really so soft, just the remnants of somebody who had survived. She had survived her life so far, every trauma and torment. Lee had to believe that she would survive this, but something in him ached horribly. What if she didn't? What if he didn't? What if they both survived, but they lost somebody else? Lee drew in an unsteady breath and looked down at the letter.

Lee,

I love you. Please, don't look for me. I'm okay. I'll be okay. I know you only want what's best, but sometimes what you think is best isn't the right thing. I just need time alone. I just need time to understand. I don't want to hurt you, Lee. You are good, whether you believe it or not, and I hope this decision doesn't make you hate me. If it does, I understand.

I'll come back. I don't know when exactly, but I want to come back. I just can't stay here right now. Please try to understand. I love you.

Sammy

He gripped the paper tighter in his hands and looked away from it as the tears welled in his eyes. It wasn't so much that she had left, but that he wanted to say he didn't hate her for it. He wanted to understand, but he was so angry. He was overflowing with rage and anxiety about where she was and that she hadn't waited for him. He knew he hadn't made it easy, and she was doing what she thought was right, but that did nothing to subdue his feelings. He felt a tear slip from his eye and skip down his cheek and he let go of the letter with one hand to hastily wipe it away. He let his mouth fall open and gasped for a breath, his chest tight.

He didn't know who to direct his anger at. Sammy left, but Barney had made the decision not to help her. Lee had selfishly supported him. The whole team did, too. Even Gunner, who didn't want to take Barney's side, had done so out of obligation. He rested his elbow near the window of the plane and rested his head against his palm as he fought the oncoming surge of tears.

He wondered how happy he really was in this life. He wondered how happy he could really ever be in another one. He wondered if all he was good for was killing, and if love and family and life was just never something he could have. He thought about Barney and Tool and everyone they had lost and how alone they both were, how bitter and tired they had become. They had money, though. Stable lives. Things they wanted and enjoyed. Those things were constant, but the people never were. Tool had his girlfriends but they came and went just as often as Barney's cigars. Lee couldn't remember a time he had seen Barney really hit it off with a woman, either. Was he just destined for the same life? Was he kidding himself with Sammy? Was this last year just a taste of everything he could never have, like Lucie had been for Barney? Was he just waiting in line for more hurt and pain?

He heard Sammy's voice in her words: I love you. She would roll up against him at night, half asleep, and whisper the same words in a tired slur. She would hug him and press her face into his neck and breathe him in and say those words. She would smile up at him and that was all he needed to know it was true. And he had meant those same words, too. She was strong and gentle and damaged and reassembled. He had to believe she would survive. He knew she wasn't just going off to be alone; she was going after Bee. If he wanted to find her, he'd have to find Bee. He glanced back down at the letter, her messy writing decorating the page that he had already wrinkled and smeared from folding and unfolding it too many times.

Sammy would survive. She had to. And he would tell her she was right, and that he loved her, but that he was too mad at her to feel anything else. That it was his turn to need time. That he wouldn't run away, but he couldn't just stay either. Maybe she didn't need him to save her, but he would anyway. Because she would go after him if he did this. If he ran off like she had, she would be on his heels just as quickly.

Suddenly he understood.

—-

Barney sneered as Captain's phone went to voicemail for the tenth time in a row. Maybe she had changed her number, but his gut told him something else was going on. Sammy would go to her old team- that's what he would do, anyway. He pushed his phone down into his pocket and grabbed his keys.

"I'm heading after a lead," he said, nodding towards Caesar and Toll. "Any word from Gunner?"

Toll shook his head.

"Gonna tell Lee?" Caesar asked.

Barney glanced back at the plane and shrugged. He knew Lee needed time to think and calm down.

"He'll be mad as hell when he finds out you went without him," Caesar continued.

"He'll be relieved when I finally get some information," Barney said, tucking his thumbs into the loops of his pants. "We can't just pick a direction and start looking. We need to track her. We need a lead."

"The girls?" Toll asked.

"Gonna check out their last known residence," Barney said in a hushed voice. "Can't imagine anywhere else she'd go."

"I'll call Tool again," Caesar said. "See if he found out anything."

Barney grunted and headed for his truck. He tossed his keys in his hand and scratched at his five o'clock shadow, hoping that wherever Sammy was, she was safe. He wondered if Riley was watching out for her- if maybe Lucie was, too. He closed the car door behind him and started up the engine.

"I know it's been a while," he said aloud, gripping the steering wheel in both hands. "But keep and eye out for her, would you?"

There was no answer. No warm, fuzzy feeling to denote that she was there with him. There never really had been. She had died, and all the light in his life had gone with her. That was his moment; his turning point. That was when he gave up on whatever the right thing might have been and decided to just do what came easy- fighting. Hunting. Killing.

But not everyone only ever had one moment. Maybe this was another one. A second chance.

He put the car into drive and started pulling away. He wouldn't fail twice. He wouldn't get any darker.