Gunner smoothed his hair back along his head so that it wasn't hanging in front of his face. It was clean and wet, slicked back from the water in the shower. He'd used a bit of gel too. He didn't think he reeked of alcohol quite as much, but it was still leaking from his pores. He dabbed some sweat from his forehead with the end of his t-shirt and crossed his arms in front of him. He bounced his knee under the table. He'd gone through some of the messages while waiting for Tool- the guys had needed him to help Sammy. They were going away. He was so angry that he'd missed it, so furious with himself- he'd nearly punched a hole straight through his wall but decided against it at the last second when he remembered the sweet single mother that lived next door.

The door rattled and Tool barged in. His jaw was locked tight and he was clearly irritated. He looked over Gunner for a long moment before he seemed decently pleased and closed the door behind him.

"Busy night?" Tool grumbled, making his way to the chair across from Gunner.

Gunner grunted and kept his eyes up. They were glossy and still rimmed with red and pink, all veiny and tired. The bags under his eyes were so heavy he could feel them. His mouth hung open while he waited for Tool to continue.

"Well," Tool sighed, sitting back in the chair and tapping his rings anxiously on the table between them, "Sammy ran off. Can't find her anywhere. We think she's with Cap and them. But I got a problem."

"Which is?" Gunner said, his heart beating faster in his chest.

"I asked Trench to go after the Major for me. Last we spoke, he said he was headed to Mexico to do some recon. Maybe take him out."

"And?" Gunner asked, irritated. His head was still pounding despite all the acetaminophen he'd downed.

"And Barney and the guys are chasing a lead. They're going after Sammy and her little gang. In Mexico."

Gunner blinked. He had a sick feeling in his chest.

"So they're going after the Major," Tool went on, shaking his head. "But Sammy is looking for Bee. So-"

"Bee is with the Major," Gunner said, nodding along. "Strange."

"You always were a man of few words, Gunner," Tool said, shaking his greasy hair loose from his face. "Trench hasn't answered. Not sure where he is."

"What do you need me for?" Gunner asked.

"You ain't my first choice, Gunner, but all the rest of them are gone."

Gunner looked down at his hands flat against the table and focused his breathing. He was tired. Tired of messing up, tired of not being trusted. He swallowed.

"Are we going after them?" He asked.

"I don't know yet," Tool said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out one of his old throwing blades. "But I've dusted all these babies off. Just in case."

Gunner nodded. A thought crossed his mind, and it made his body go numb: maybe he'd finally die on this one. Maybe it was his last job. Maybe he didn't care.

—-

Sammy was laying in bed with her eyes wide open, staring at the wall. Everyone else was awake already, whispering in hushed tones about the plan for the day. The auction was that night, which was a quick turn around, but they could make it work. All they had to do was get eyes on Bee and get her out of there. It would be simple.

In theory. It was always in theory. Hardly ever in practice.

Sammy figured that they knew she was awake and just weren't saying anything for her sake. She was grateful for that, mostly because as she laid there unmoving, she could almost pretend that life was stagnant and okay. She could think about Lee without her heart dropping into her stomach. She could picture herself climbing out of bed and going to work at the tattoo shop with no bitterness towards Tool or Barney or any of them. The second she moved, she knew she would be all bitterness. So she stayed still for as long as she could. She needed that stillness to be sane; her life was an angry ocean, blurry from the ebb and flow of the tide, and she was constantly caught in a rip that was pulling her away from safety and towards oblivion. Her home was that tightrope, after all. The edge of that oblivion.

"We'll need the right clothes," Angel said, her voice low and dull. "Attire is formal."

"A suit? Dresses?" Bones asked. "Where can we find that?"

"I'll go out and look," Cap said, followed by the sound of a chair scraping against the floor. "Gogh, you'll come with me. You both will stay here. If anything happens- anything at all- you hightail it out of here and contact us when you can."

"Got it," Angel said.

Sammy blinked a few times and sighed. She pushed the blanket off of herself and moved to sit on the edge of the mattress, her toes brushing the dirty, sandy floor. Her eyes were heavy in her head. Her shoulders drooped. She was in the rip again, dancing with the current and reaching out for the wind. It would always slip through her fingers.

"Gogh, you alright?" Bones asked.

Sammy snapped out of her stupor and looked up. She hesitated for a moment and then nodded.

"Sorry, just waking up," she said. Bones nodded. Angel studied her for a moment and then turned away, seemingly accepting it.

Cap watched her. She wasn't convinced.

"Get yourself ready to play your part," Cap said.

"Yup, just a second," Sammy said, pulling out her duffel and fishing around for clean clothes. The smell of home wafted up from the bag and she breathed it in. Black t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and the camera from her disguise. She ran her fingers through her hair for a moment before letting it hang loose- it flopped over towards one side of her head, the longest part reaching halfway down her neck. She tucked her gun into the back of her jeans and covered it with her shirt, and then put the camera around her neck so that it rested at her stomach. She fingered a few throwing blades and decided to holster them around her ankle. She cuffed her jeans to hide the outline and laced up her old brown boots. Then she was ready. Cap was waiting at the door.

—-

The sun was lifting its weary head over the horizon with a wash of sleepy, cloud-fogged colors. Caesar was leaning against an old pickup they'd paid to rent from some old farmhand who had barely spoken any English. It was a coppery blue covered in mud and rust. The bed at the back was bordered with two-by-fours. There was space for three at the front of the car, and the rest would travel with the stuff in the back. The roads were dusty and unpaved and people would only show up sporadically, leaving them plenty of time to move about undetected. The jungle was wet around them, though still not as dense as it could be. Sweat was dripping from Caesars forehead and he wiped it away with a handkerchief. He was in his off-white tank top and long cargo pants, which were tucked into ankle-high boots. He glanced over his shoulder at Toll, who was checking his phone again, and sighed. He thought about home and how much he'd love a warm breakfast, but he always felt that way on a new mission. In a few hours, he'd forget all about the comforts of New Orleans. It was easy to forget about the good things when he was getting shot at.

"Still not a damn word from Gunner," Toll said, sidling up to Caesar with a blank look across his face.

"Maybe he doesn't wanna be bothered right now, man," Caesar said.

Toll huffed and leaned beside him against the truck.

"My analyst says-"

Caesar groaned and rolled his eyes. Toll tightened his face and went on.

"My analyst says that when we let our problems and emotions build up, they'll all come spilling out at once. Everybody deals with that spill differently. I think Gunner is just spilling."

Caesar hummed and tilted his head back so he could watch the clouds float over the warm colors of the tropical sunrise.

"We don't really got the time for that right now," Caesar said, dropping his voice to his more serious whisper. "We've been working ourselves out of our minds to find the damn Major. Now we got him- maybe- but it doesn't feel like a win."

"Sammy's not here," Toll said, looking down at his crossed feet.

"She's here somewhere," Caesar grunted. "I feel bad for the kid. And for Lee, but mostly for her. She's been through a lot."

"We all have," Toll tried.

"We signed up for it," Caesar said, meeting Toll's eyes. "Her life has just folded out this way."

Toll stayed quiet and looked away from Caesar. He was right- Sammy didn't choose to move in next door to a mercenary, or to lose her sister. She didn't have all the information about the path she was walking down when she chose it. Maybe the guys didn't either, but they definitely had more than she did.

Caesar stood and kicked up some dirt.

"I'm gonna help unload," he said. Toll nodded.

—-

Lee was sitting in the passenger seat. Luna was squeezed between him and Barney, who insisted on driving. Caesar, Toll, and Yang were all perched on the bed with the bags tucked around them for safekeeping. The roads were long and empty, winding deeper into the jungle as the morning sun rose above them. Water droplets stuck to the thick foliage around them and dripped into the muddy earth. The windshield was fogging up despite their best efforts to keep it clear. It was quiet. The hacienda wasn't far- they'd set up a camp maybe a mile east of it and split up recon jobs around the property. It was an old place, renovated by some new artist a few years back for a pretty penny, and was hardly ever used.

A big and pretty blue butterfly flew by the passenger window and Lee followed it with his eyes. It reminded him of the moths that would gather at the porch light on Sammy's house. It was much more grand and colorful, but Lee saw Sammy in everything. It was frustrating to him sometimes, just how often Sammy could wiggle her way into his daily life. If every minute had sixty seconds, Sammy was fifty-nine of them. He propped his elbow on the open window and leaned his head on his hand.

"It's a formal event," Luna said, looking between Barney and Lee. "Are we going in undercover, or are we watching from a distance?"

"We should do fifty-fifty," Barney said.

"I'll go in," Lee said.

"No," Barney said, snapping his head towards Luna and Lee. Luna raised her eyebrows and glanced between them both again. She let out a long, heavy breath.

"Why the hell not, Barney?" Lee asked.

"Because you have a conflict of interest," Barney said.

"And you don't?" Lee asked.

"Not like you do," Barney argued. There was a sense silence for a moment.

"I look better in a suit than you do," Lee huffed, looking forward. "I'm going in."

"You'll get yourself killed at the first available second," Barney grunted, looking forward at the road again.

"Not a chance. And I'm faster than you."

"We're doing this again?"

"Yeah, we're doing this again-"

Yang pounded on the roof of the truck and drew their attention back to where they were. There was a fork in the road ahead, separated by the thick brush of the jungle. Down one road there were a couple of trucks blowing up dirt from their tires as they moved in the teams direction. Barney tightened his jaw and turned down the other road, which was empty, and a bit more overgrown. Luna turned her head and watched through the window as they passed- an old farm truck with people hanging out on the back of it wouldn't be strange sight to see in that area. She straightened herself out and chewed on her lower lip.

"Don't hate me," she said, keeping her eyes forward, "but I think Lee should go in."

Barney looked down at her, brows furrowed.

"Thank you," Lee said, lifting up a hand and motioning to her beside him. "Finally, somebody with some brains." He pointed to his own head and made a face at Barney.

"Well-" Luna started, rolling her eyes and shifting her shoulders. "I only say that because he looks more like a bodyguard."

"A bodyguard?" Lee asked, confused. Barney let out a chuckle.

"My bodyguard, more specifically," Luna said with a smirk.

"What do you need a bodyguard for?" Lee asked, offended.

"For show," Luna said. "Listen, boys- we aren't gonna get this done with brute force. This requires elegance. Tact. A solid plan. And, more importantly- a face they won't expect."

Barney and Lee looked at each other. Barney shrugged and looked away. He had to admit that it was a decent idea.

"I'll be the rich lady perusing the auction, maybe making a few bids… and Lee will be my bodyguard. My protection."

"We should send someone else in with you," Barney said, nodding along. "It's not a bad idea. Maybe Caesar?"

"Two big bald guys," Luna said with a nod. "It would catch some attention, but then again, at an event like this, it'll probably be normal."

Lee sunk into his seat and tried to focus on the trees as they passed by. Luna and Barney kept talking logistics. He wondered what it would be like to go on a mission like that with Sammy- undercover, just the two of them, taking out some bad guys. The thought was almost enough to make him smile. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing.

—-

They found a nice dress shop. It was small inside, with handmade dresses hanging from racks all around them. They didn't want anything that would stick out too much- just something inexpensive and ordinary. Low music played around them, making the shop feel even more claustrophobic than it already was. Cap was perusing uninterestedly, mostly just trying to find something in her size that wouldn't be too hard to move in should the job require it- and they were both sure, through an unspoken understanding, that it would be.

Some of the dresses were more traditional to the region; white with a square cut for the neck and short, draping sleeves. The tops and bottoms were adorned with bright floral colors and patterns. Some of them were done in solid bright colors like pink or yellow or purple with patterns in both white and color decorating them. Sammy traced her hands along the fabric, stiff but still soft, and listened to the music around her. It all felt like another world; not just the culture, but the energy of life in general. She couldn't remember the last time she had gone shopping for new clothes. Her life was ruled by the Expendables and the tattoo shop and Lee. It was a strange feeling being there with Cap, almost mindlessly perusing, but even stranger than that- she felt like she missed it. She never thought she enjoyed shopping much, but digging through the racks was enthralling in a way her everyday life wasn't. There were no bullets or ink in the layers of fabric. Just threads and colors, artfully and carefully done.

She came across a dress of a different cut- one she hadn't seen in the store before. It was yellow, almost golden, with light blue flowers embroidered on it as though they wrapped down the body. The top of the dress wrapped around the neck, leaving a small triangular opening between the breasts. It would be secure, was long enough to hide extra ammo and blades, and wouldn't be too eye-catching. The colors were matte, and the frill that ran diagonally down the bottom waved around the legs and would keep her mostly covered. She pulled it off of the rack, a bit of dusting blowing up from where she assumed it had been hidden for who knows how long, and held it up to Cap.

"Good?" She asked, raising her brows.

"If you think so," she said, glancing up quickly and looking back down at her own rack. "Expensive?"

Sammy looked down at the price tag. 1,000 pesos. She shrugged.

"Around fifty," she said, moving to see if Cap had found anything good.

"Not bad," she said. "I got this for Bones. She's not one to wear dresses, but I think she might like it."

It was a plain black dress with narrow straps and a small floral pattern at the base of the left shoulder. It didn't curve to a form much, so there would be room for movement and layers. Sammy could already picture Bones wearing a tank and shorts beneath it so she could rip it off at a moments notice and get down to business. She nodded.

"Yeah, that's good."

"Angel always wore shorter things," Cap said absently, pushing some things aside on the rack. "I don't know if she'll still want to."

Sammy pressed her lips together and held her breath. The image of Angel laying barely alive on the shore of that river flashed in her mind and she shuddered. She could picture the blood seeping into the dirty rushing water from the wound in her leg. She could still feel the pressure of the compressions she had done on her- the helpless prayers she sent out into the void with each heavy press and release.

"Long seems safe anyway," Sammy said half-heartedly. "More space to hide things."

Cap hummed. It was a bullshit excuse given Angel's experience, but she went along with it nevertheless. They decided on one with thin straps like Bones' and a slit down what would be Angel's good leg. A decent compromise, Sammy hoped. There were floral patterns down the edge of it, outlining the slit. It was a deep red dress, like something that might be worn on a red carpet, and it was nice. Sammy figured Angel would turn eyes wherever she went. That was just who she was.

"Here's a nice one," Sammy said, pulling another dress out from a rack. She held it up and raised her eyebrows at Cap.

It was white with more flowers and Mayan-like patterns wrapping around the waist. The neckline was square and the sleeves were puffy. It tightened around the center and then puffed out into a decent skirt; slightly longer in the back than it was in the front. There weren't many places to hide extra weapons, but Cap would be the leader, so Sammy figured it would lower any suspicion placed upon them. Not that the machismo culture would allow for much to begin with. Women didn't seem to be much of a threat where they were. They'd been catcalled a handful of times while walking around the small area, all by older men with tanned, wrinkled skin.

"Works for me," Cap said, grabbing it by the hangar and maneuvering herself to the checkout counter. A younger woman stood in a dress similar to the ones they'd seen, her skin golden and shimmering from sweat and humidity. She smiled.

"Como va a pagar?" She asked, her voice sickly sweet and gentle.

"Efectivo, por favor," Cap answered, placing the dresses atop the counter before she began digging through her pockets.

Sammy looked around one last time and thought that she really liked this little place. It was a solid living, full of art and culture and color. Maybe that's how somebody else would view her life at the tattoo shop. She wasn't much different from the woman behind the counter other than the fact that they lived life through different lenses. Dressmaking, tattooing. Maybe one day Sammy would be satisfied with what she had.

They left the store and stepped out into the blazing heat. The road, in the distance, was blurry with mirage. There was dust blowing in the light breeze around them and children kicking an old volleyball in the street.

At one point, she might have wanted children of her own. In the life she lived now, where she never knew if she'd live to see another morning, she wasn't sure that she did. How could she justify bringing a life into the world when she couldn't even promise herself her own?

Cap nudged her arm and brought her back to the present. They had a job to do- the last step was just to finally do it.