They could hear the shooting in the distance.

It was hot, humid, and the jungle was thick and wet around them. The air stuck to their nappy hair and their scrunched up faces, too heavy to fully breathe in.

"Looks like we got a fire fight, twelve o'clock," Tool grumbled, wiping the back of his hand along his forehead to clear it of sweat. Gunner grunted, and they continued on.

They could see the smoke rising and dissipating in the air, the flashes of guns firing through the trees. They were close to the hacienda. Gunner looked up and squinted against the sun, his head still reeling from his earlier setback. Tool would never let him live that down, and he knew he deserved it. Somehow his pores still reeked of alcohol and his stomach was churning. He dragged his bandana down his face and pushed on, towards the sound of the fight.

"Think our guys found them?" Tool asked, trudging along next to Gunner, finger straight next to the trigger of his gun. He scratched the back of his head with his knife, which he had been twirling in his freehand since they'd started their long walk in the jungle.

Gunner grunted again. Tool rolled his eyes and kept walking. He was looking around at all the trees, the vibrant leaves and foliage around them, the occasional bright butterfly that would flit by.

"If I didn't hate the jungle so much, maybe I wouldn't mind getting myself a place somewhere like this," he said, his boots crunching in the dirt. "But who am I kidding? I'd be bored as shit in some forest. Maybe I'd start bird watching or some shit… If that ever happens, you better put me down-"

Gunner stopped short and Tool knocked into him, catching his balance before he could trip backwards. He furrowed his brows.

"What the hell is it?" He asked.

"Is that-" he started, lifting his rifle to look through the scope. "I think that's Sammy."

Tool pressed his lips together and raised his gun the same, gazing through the scope to find a less powerful image of a limp Sammy in some strangers arms.

"What the hell…"

"I don't see Barney," Gunner went on, shifting the gun slightly. "And I can't get a clean shot. Too much going on."

Tool felt the blood draining from his face as he watched Sammy get tossed into the back of a truck. It wasn't necessarily her that caught him off guard, but the man that climbed in after her: Conrad Stonebanks.

"That's not possible…" Tool tried, sucking in his lower lip as he focused.

"What is?" Gunner asked.

"He's dead," Tool said, pulling the gun down and looking over at Gunner. "One of the men with Sammy. He's been dead for years."

Gunner frowned, confused. He scratched his head.

"If he isn't- which, I guess he isn't- then he isn't a friendly… and if he's got Sammy-"

"We have to get her," Gunner said, understanding. He felt his adrenaline begin to pick up and it masked any remaining pain from his withdrawals.

"What the hell?" Tool asked, moving quickly next to Gunner as they tried to get a read on the cars speeding away. They skipped over fallen branches and jumped over moss-strewn rocks as they hurried towards flat land, but the cars were getting further and further away. Tool felt his chest tighten as he ran out of breath. He groaned.

"We can't let them get away," Gunner said, pushing himself further as his gear bounced over his wide frame. He wasn't fast. He was big, bulky, a tank for all intents and purposes- he watched the cars reach an old solid road and pick up speed. He growled, forcing himself to move faster, his feet meeting the manicured grass of the hacienda. The dust from the road blew up and the cars started to speed away, and no matter how fast he tried to make his feet move, he knew it was no use. He'd never reach them. He slowed to a stop and dropped his hands to his knees, wheezing, and bunched his face into a pained grimace.

It had felt like a lifetime ago that the Expendables decided Gunner would be the one to usher Sammy out of trouble at a moments notice. He'd keep her safe, protect her, or make sure she could at the very least protect herself.

He failed, again.

Tool hurried up behind him and fought to catch his breath as well. It had been a long time since he was out in the field.

"Dammit," he said, shaking his head and looking frantically around. "Dammit! Dammit!"

Gunner closed his eyes and tried to focus on slowing his heart rate down. If they had just moved a little faster- if he hadn't gone MIA when they had needed him-

He knocked a balled fist against his head and stood, lips turned down into an angry frown. Sweat dripped down from his greasy hairline and he huffed.

"Let's go see the damage," Gunner said, voice low. Tool looked at him and bit his cheek. He couldn't help but feel like this entire mess was his fault; he should've convinced Sammy all that time ago that this life was not what she wanted or needed. That she should've taken a few self-defense classes and called it a day. That fighting and running and risking her life wasn't what she was after; it was just the rush. The rush of surviving. It could be addicting.

After a moment he hurried to follow after Gunner, gun raised in case there was anyone left behind as the smoke billowed up from the torn-up ground. It was quiet, though. There were bodies left behind, eaten up by bullets and knives. He knelt down at one and pulled out a familiar throwing blade- it had to be one of Lee's.

"They were here," Tool said. "We must've just missed 'em."

Gunner looked down at all the bodies and kept one eye focused on their surroundings. They'd caught the tail end of a small bloodbath, but at least none of the victims looked like anyone they would miss.

Tool dropped the blade to the ground and wiped his hand off on the back of his pants before he scratched at the stubble around the corners of his mouth. He felt sick to his stomach. Not because of all the death and gore, but because they had just barely missed the fight- if they had shown up a little bit earlier, maybe Conrad wouldn't have gotten his hands on Sammy. Maybe he'd be dead- really dead, and not just fake dead. He walked from body to body and looked to make sure there were none of his guys laying around. Then he noticed one sprawled near the center of the mess.

"Gun, keep an eye out, would you?" He asked. Gunner grunted again.

He heard his boots knocking stray bullets out of the way as he moved towards the body. He couldn't be sure until he was close, but it looked like James- like the Major. He sucked in his cheek and knelt next to the body. He pulled up the head and let out a breath before he dropped it back into the mud.

"Son of a bitch," he said. He shook his head and spit down into the dirt, angry.

"What?" Gunner asked, looking around to make sure nobody would jump out of the bushes at them.

"Well, at least he's dead," Tool said with a sigh. He reached over to check his pockets.

"What are you doing, stealing his lunch money?" Gunner teased, jutting his gun out towards where the cars had gone. "We need to go tail those guys if we wanna find Sammy."

"Hold on a minute, would you?" Tool said, pulling a loose pen and some spare bullets from one of the Major's pockets. He moved on to another.

Gunner watched on and shook his head. All he wanted to do was find Sammy and bring her home safe. It felt like with every day that had passed since he met her, that was something that was getting harder and harder to do. Now it was damn near impossible.

"Here we go," Tool said, pulling out a small wallet and flipping it open. Some blood had stained through, but he flipped through the documents inside and opened folded pieces of paper.

"Find something?" Gunner asked.

"I think so," Tool said, tucking everything into his vest pocket before double checking that there was nothing else left to find. He hefted himself back up to his feet and sighed. "Let's go. I think we might have a lead to follow."

Gunner furrowed his brows but nodded nevertheless and motioned for Tool to lead the way. He did, and they went off in the direction of the cars they had been chasing after, where Sammy had been taken.

Gunner looked back up at the sky and the bright sun sent a sharp pain through his head. He thought back to when Lee had been shot back in New Orleans, when him and Sammy were still new and figuring things out. He had grabbed Sammy so fast and pulled her away from the chaos, the pain, the blood. He sighed. He wished he could do that again. It had always seemed to be his job to pull her back from death. How many times would he get lucky enough to succeed? And what would happen if he didn't?

He bit back the questions and uncertainty and followed Tool away from the hacienda and the crime scene. All he could do was keep moving forward. Eventually, he figured, he'd have to run into her if he just kept moving.

—-

Lee heard the cars roll up towards the plane and stood from where he was sitting on the floor. He hurried out into the sun, temporarily blinded, and kept following the sound of dirt crunching beneath the tires.

Toll and Caesar looked up too, catching sight of Yang sitting guard outside of the truck where Bee was tied up and held. Bones glanced over her shoulder, half-hoping that Sammy would climb out of the car along with Cap.

Angel was balancing herself in the doorway of the plane, squinting and holding a hand over her eyes to shade her face.

Barney watched from the driver's seat as Lee stalked towards them and he let out a heavy sigh. He half expected Lee to punch him in the face when he told him they couldn't find any evidence of Sammy at the hacienda, but with not even a lead on where she might've been? He was preparing himself for a knife to the shoulder for that one.

Cap's eyes were sore from the tears of relief she had shed, but she felt guilty for being so happy when Sammy was nowhere to be found. She caught sight of Bones and Angel and swallowed over a lump in her throat. Her family- they were safe. She felt her heart settle down into her chest for the first time in years.

"Well, we have to tell them," Barney said.

"Yeah," Cap said, nodding.

Trench was the first one to open his door. He stepped out and slammed it behind him, face beat red from the days worth of hot sun. It had nearly set by then, and a cool breeze blew through the air.

Cap and Barney climbed out at the same time. Lee hesitated as they both closed their doors, signaling to everyone that there was nobody else with them. They had come back alone.

He swallowed and shifted his jaw to grind his teeth together, his mind running empty except for the instinct to rage. He wanted to yell, scream, punch, hit- anything except listen to whatever it was that they had to say. He couldn't even really be mad at Sammy- she had tried to go to them for help. She'd laid out her case and they dismissed her, but she was right. They had all the proof in the world of that sitting in the old rented pickup next to Yang. Lee ran his hands over his head and turned towards the truck, eyes dead set on Bee.

"Lee," Barney said, knocking his fist against his car door and stomping towards his second-in-command. "Lee, let's talk."

He didn't answer. He scowled and walked towards the pickup, and Yang stood to block the door Bee was sitting behind. He looked up at Lee and shook his head.

"This will not help," he tried, closing his arms over his chest.

Lee stopped in front of him and point at the door, jaw set and hard. "Move out of my way, Yang."

"I cannot do that," Yang said, shaking his head again. "Take a walk, Christmas."

Lee rolled his head back and felt the anger rising in his throat like vomit. It was going to explode out of him and there was nothing he could do about it.

He lunged forward and went to grab at Yang when Barney suddenly had his arms around Lee's torso, yanking him back and away from the truck. He pushed against the ground and tried to loosen Barney's grasp on him by running forward, but it didn't work. He turned, instead, and wound up his fist to land a punch on Barney's jaw. Yang leapt up and grabbed his arm, holding it back despite Lee's strain to pull it forward and free.

"Lee, stop!" Barney grunted, knocking him in the chest.

"Where is she?" Lee yelled, finally freeing his arm from Yang and shoving Barney backwards and away from him as hard as he could. "Where is she, Barns?"

Barney caught his breath and held up his arms, defeated. His hands slapped against his thighs when he let them go.

"Lee, if I knew that, I wouldn't be standing here right now," he said, voice thick with anger.

Lee scoffed and shook his head.

"So she's just gone?" He asked, motioning towards the truck where Bee sat watching them. "She's gone, we have no leads, and now we're stuck with her?"

Barney massaged the back of his neck and propped his other hand on his hip. "Lee…"

"Am I wrong?" Lee yelled, dropping his hands and shaking his head. "Do you have any leads?"

Barney stared forward at his best friend and his mouth went dry. There was no way to sugarcoat it, and no convenient lie to push off the inevitable. As far as Barney knew before today, Conrad Stonebanks was long dead. And now? He had no idea where to even begin looking for him. If he didn't want to be found, it would be nearly impossible to get to him. And now he had Sammy.

Lee turned and balled his hands into trembling fists as he stalked away. He wanted to hit something- break something. He had been so close to having something good. Did he just not deserve good things? Had he done so much wrong in his life that this was his punishment? To get so close to what he wanted, and then to have it all taken away, right out from under him?

He walked off into the forest to get away from everyone. He was afraid that he would hurt the next person that tried to talk to him. He wanted to be alone. He wanted to block out the world. He wanted-

Well, what he wanted, he couldn't have. That much was clear.

—-

Cap looked over at Bones, tall and narrow, and had to bring her hands up to her face to cover her sudden urge to cry again. She hated crying, and that's why she rarely ever did it, but she couldn't help it. The Major was dead, and it was a good thing.

Bones knitted her brows together and started walking towards Cap, confused and worried. Had something else happened out there? Did something go wrong?

She took Cap by the shoulders and searched her face. Her eyes were glazed and red and the skin around them was swollen and puffy. She frowned.

"What is it?" Bones asked.

Cap pressed a hand against Bones's cheek and let out a soft sigh. Then she pressed a smile onto her face.

"He's dead. For good."

Bones studied her and didn't respond.

"The Major," Cap went on, taking Bones's face in both of her hands and holding her tight. "He's dead. He's gone."

Bones blinked a few times and gripped Cap's wrists. She nodded, her own eyes beginning to sting, and dropped her forehead against Cap's. She let out a long breath that she must've been holding in for years. Her chest suddenly felt empty. She was so light she could fly away.

"It's over," Cap said, shaking her head as it rested against Bones's. "It's done. He's not coming back."

Bones grabbed her by the back of the neck and tried to breathe. How long had it been since they felt so free? So safe?

She thought about Sammy, lost and alone with someone who was probably just using her for bait. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. A few tears dripped over her parted lips and she cleared her throat.

"This has to wait until we have Sammy back," she said, pulling away from Cap.

"I know," Cap said, wiping bashfully at her cheeks. "I know, it's just…"

Bones nodded, and reached forward one last time to smooth down the hair along the back of Cap's neck. She pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"It's over," Bones said. "I get it. Come on. Let's go find our girl."

Cap nodded and tried to shake off her emotions. She knew they wouldn't get her anywhere when it came to Sammy. She had to compartmentalize if they were gonna get her back.

Barney watched from the truck as Cap and Bones made their way to the plane. Everybody had taken note of their little moment together, but nobody said anything. When he glanced back at the pickup, even Bee had seemed to be watching, but she turned her eyes back down to her lap and stayed frozen in her spot. He ran his hands through his hair and frowned.

"What is our plan?" Yang asked, looking up at Barney.

Barney took a moment to look over him before he looked away. He didn't know how to tell his team that he didn't know what was next. That he didn't even know where to start.

"Our plan is find her and kill him," he said after a second. Then he looked back at Yang. "How we're gonna get there… Well, I got not a clue."

Yang pressed his lips together and ducked his head in a short, concise nod. He could sense that Barney was feeling guilty. He knew that Lee was confused and his heart was breaking. He knew that the women- Captain, Bones, and Angel- were relieved that their long nightmare had finally ended. He knew that Bee, sitting in the truck behind him, was afraid. She wore a plain face well, but it was always hard to keep the truth from the eyes, and he could read it in hers easily enough.

He brushed some loose hair from his forehead and let out a breath. They always finished the job eventually. It was what they did. Somehow, he figured, they would get Sammy back. No matter how long it took, who they had to go through, or how far they had to travel. She would come home.

—-

One Week Later

Caesar slammed the fridge door shut so hard that the walls shook for a second. Toll looked up at him from his reading, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose, annoyed.

"You mind?" He grumbled.

"How in the hell are you reading right now?" Caesar snapped, motioning to the mess around the room.

Toll sighed and turned his eyes back down to the same page he'd been trying to read for the last two hours. Every time he'd get through a sentence, he'd forget it and have to read it again. It was infuriating. It didn't help that Caesar was about to go stir crazy and explode.

"It's been a week," Caesar said, dropping onto the couch across from Toll. Tool's apartment had been abandoned when they got back to New Orleans a few days ago. "We have nothing to go off of. No new information, no leads… What the hell are we doing, man?"

Toll sucked in a breath and bookmarked the page he'd been stuck on for later. He pulled off his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes, which were sore from lack of sleep; they were heavy and blood-shot, framed by baggy purple skin. He sighed.

"We're waiting," Toll tried, but he didn't really believe it himself. He tossed the book onto the coffee table, which was riddled in stains from condensation and spills and some nicks from knives being thrown into it.

"Waiting…" Caesar echoed, leaning his head back over the edge of the couch. "I'm sick of waiting. There has to be something we can do."

Toll watched his friend for another moment before he propped his elbows on his knees and looked down at his feet, his boots unlaced and loose around his ankles. He stretched out his fingers and watched his knuckles move under his skin. He was itching for some action. They'd all been in limbo since Mexico. The sign on Tool's parlor door was still flipped to "closed," and he hadn't answered any of their phones calls since the standoff with the Major and Stonebanks. None of it was sitting right with him, but what could he do?

Yang pushed open the door with his shoulder then, chewing on some instant noodles he had probably found in the backroom of the tattoo shop. He didn't look up at Toll or Caesar as he sat down at the rickety kitchen table and powered up his laptop. Caesar watched him go by, eyes fixed on the back of his head.

Toll glanced down the hall towards the bathroom. He remembered back when he had first met Sammy, how quiet and small and sad she seemed to be. It's not that she didn't talk much, it was just that she used to be afraid of her own words; she wasn't a small person, but she didn't fit into herself then. He could still hear Gunner shouting for them all from the bathroom, that panicked viking wail that had broken them all from their militant trance. He tried not to picture her laying dead somewhere like she had that day, all alone with nobody to pull her back from the edge. He dropped his head to his hands and sighed.

"You thinking about it too?" Caesar asked, his voice much lower and calmer now.

Toll looked up at him through his eyelashes, debating his answer. He nodded.

"Yeah," Caesar said, glancing sidelong down the hall. "I have been too."

Yang slurped up a noodle from somewhere behind them and Toll rolled his eyes before he reached for his book again. He flipped open to the page he'd been trying to read, but the words still felt foreign to him. He couldn't even be sure they were in English by that point.

—-

Barney was leaning against a stool and looking up at Sammy's art on the wall. He wondered if there would ever be anymore added to it, or if that was it. He hoped there'd be more. He liked watching the collection grow.

He checked his phone again out of habit. No new calls or messages from anyone. He'd called every number he could remember that Tool had ever used, but all of them had proven useless. He'd tried Gunner, but he only got more of the same; voicemail after voicemail and a "delivered" sign beneath every text. He knew it would be useless, but he'd even tried texting Sammy.

"Wallowing?" Bones asked, tossing a rag over her shoulder as she moved to Barney's side.

He looked down at her before he scoffed and rolled his eyes. None of the Expendables had confronted the women about helping Sammy, and none of the women had confronted the Expendables about not helping her. There was just this taut string of tension holding them all together, and he was wondering when it would finally snap.

"What if your friend found her?" She asked, shifting her tone to be less sarcastic for once. She hugged herself and looked up at all the art.

"Tool?" Barney asked, quirking a brow.

"Sure," Bones said.

"He's been out of the field for years," Barney said, taking a few steps away and looking over Sammy's desk. "But it's not like him to not return a call."

Bones hummed and scratched at the side of her head. She wasn't sure when the last time was that a week had felt so long. Her eyelids were like weights on her face, pulling her down constantly and towards sleep. She rubbed at them, irritated.

"Not sleeping won't help us find her," Barney said without looking. He flipped absently through a few pages of loose, rough sketches.

"Sleeping won't, either," she said.

He didn't respond. He traced the tip of his finger along the lines of a skull with a butterfly emerging from the eyes.

"Hey," Cap said as she walked in, her face red as she hurried towards the table they had set up for intel. "I might have got something."

Barney looked over at her and waited, and for a split second he pictured Lucie in her place. He shook the thought from his mind.

"What is it?" Bones asked, stepping over and leaning her hands against the edge of the table.

"Might be Dilly… I don't know- I don't think it's a dead end. I don't know. It's CCTV footage from a supermarket near Kolkata-"

"What?" Barney asked. "I thought we were looking more west than that."

"I took a chance," Cap said, fingers twitching over her keyboard as she pulled up the footage.

"How long have you been awake and going through all of this?" Bones asked, looking her up and down with her brows knitted between her eyes.

"Doesn't matter," Cap said, shaking her off and pointing to the screen. "The scans say the features might be a match. It's not the clearest image, but-"

"Let me see," Barney said, moving around the table to get a clear view.

Cap hit play and chewed on her thumbnail as she waited. Barney furrowed his brows as he watched, focused.

"I don't know," he said after a minute.

"It's gotta be her," Cap tried, motioning to the screen. "I mean-"

"We can't make any assumptions," Barney said, shaking his head as he backed up from the table. "It might not be her, and we don't want to end up on a wild goose chase and realize too late that we were really after ducks."

Cap made a face and slammed her laptop shut. She ran her fingers through her curls, exhausted and annoyed.

"She has to be out there somewhere," she said.

"She is," Barney tried.

"You try telling Lee that?" Cap asked, her tone a bit more snappy than she had intended. She let out a breath and shook her head. "Sorry. I know it's… weird, right now."

Barney turned away and tried to ignore the splitting headache growing worse by the second behind his eyes. He wished he was alone suddenly, maybe back at his own house surrounded by his own shit with nothing to worry about.

"We're gonna find her," Bones said.

Cap looked over at her friend and tried to press a smile onto her cheeks. It felt more apologetic than anything, but she was too worn out to worry about it too much.

"They're gonna have to slip eventually," Cap tried.

"Not Conrad," Barney said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "He doesn't slip."

"You just weren't looking for him before," Bones tried. "You didn't know he was alive."

"That's why I'm not looking for him," Cap shrugged. "I was looking for the redhead- Dilly. She might not be as careful as he is."

They stayed silent for a long moment. Barney's head was spinning.

—-

Lee was smoking a cigarette outside of the shop and leaning against his bike. He watched the smoke as he blew it from his mouth, a cloud of cancer and relief. He looked down at his phone and wondered for the millionth time that day if Sammy was still alive.

"Christmas," Trench said, sidling up with an old leather jacket tossed over his shoulder.

Lee glanced up but didn't respond. He puffed out another cloud from his cigarette before he took it from his mouth and flicked it down to the sidewalk.

"You know, everybody in there is working to find her," Trench said, shoving his thumb over his shoulder towards the shop.

Lee sighed and stood from where he was leaning on his bike. He looked around, but the streets felt different to him than they had for the last long few years of his life.

"I was gonna get out of this game," he said, glancing around them. "Leave it all behind."

Trench shrugged. "We all think we're going to get out. But we're addicts, you know? I've seen it over and over, with my own eyes."

Lee chewed on his lip and let his shoulders drop. Maybe Trench was right- between him, Barney, and Tool, it didn't seem like anybody ever got out of this life alive. Maybe he had just been entertaining a dream for the last year by thinking that he and Sammy could move on and be normal.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Christmas," Trench said, pulling a cigar from his pocket and holding it out towards him. "But smoke this instead. Cigarettes are no good, and they smell bad."

Lee blinked and reached to take the cigar from him. Trench smiled and chuckled before he turned to the shop and pulled open the door. Lee could hear Barney inside talking to Cap and Bones, arguing back and forth about some potential sighting or lead or ghost to follow. He tucked the cigar into his pocket and sighed.

"Dammit," he muttered to himself, closing his eyes as he tried to keep his breathing steady. After a minute he followed after Trench.

—-

Her lips were dry and cracked, and a bit of sun was coming through the slender window near the ceiling. It hit the floor in one spot and reflected around the room. There was a tray of uneaten food next to the cot she was laying on and a cup of water she had spilled that was already drying against the concrete floor.

"Riley," she said, her voice barely over a whisper. She clapped her lips together a few times and grimaced against the soreness in her throat. "Did she get home safe? Did they get her?"

Her voice echoed just barely around her and she sniffed. The air was dusty, salty. It burned in her nostrils.

She smiled to herself as she thought about Riley. The small child running just ahead of her on the sidewalk, the giggles from across the hall when she was up to no good. The last day they spent together before Sammy went off to college, and then all the little visits in between then and the end. When she thought about Riley in that hospital bed, the smile faded from her face and she stared forward mindlessly, eyes red-rimmed and reflecting the remnants of the sunlight that bounced from the floor. If she had been more hydrated, maybe she would have cried.

Her hands were unbound but her wrists were still raw and cut from the plastic ties. She wondered idly if they might get infected, but she couldn't find the energy within herself to care. She hoped that they had found Bee and taken her back, explained everything, and fixed what was broken. She wasn't exactly sure how much time had passed, and she was surprised at how easily she lost track. Sometimes she would count to sixty just to feel a minute pass, but other times she would just let a day wash over her with no sense of movement.

The door cracked open and she didn't move. Her stomach rumbled uncomfortably, empty and begging for food. She had tried to eat, but the anxiety was making it difficult to keep things down.

The same woman as before knelt down beside her and picked up the spilled cup of water and the tray of hardly touched food. She sighed.

"You have to eat," she said softly, trying to catch her attention.

Sammy just blinked and kept her eyes forward. She was trying to watch her memories on the opposite wall, a little movie of her life. She focused on the thought of her home, the image projected to the wall from her mind. Gravel driveway, half-fixed porch and new door with a lock and all. Rocking chairs. A bike parked outside that didn't belong to her but was familiar and right nevertheless.

"Please," the woman said, placing a careful hand on Sammy's shoulder. "Please eat."

Sammy flinched away from her and watched the little illusion she had cast for herself fizzle away. She turned her eyes up to the woman with a snarl, teeth bared like a rabid animal backed into a corner.

"Don't touch me," Sammy snapped, her voice low and deadly.

"Okay," the woman said, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Okay."

Sammy watched her for another minute before she let her eyes drift back to the wall. She tried to tune her out, but her red hair caught the light and the color bounced around the room.

"If you just answer his questions, it'll all be easier," she tried.

Sammy didn't respond. She'd been good at keeping her mouth shut so far, and she didn't intend to break now.

"Your name is Sammy, right?" She asked.

Sammy closed her eyes this time. She tried to think about the Expendables and the fun they had together when they weren't on jobs, drinking and making dinner and watching crappy movies in her living room or in Tool's apartment.

"My name is Dilly," she went on, pulling herself up to her feet and looking down at the woman curled up on the cot, exhausted and unmoving. "I'll be back in the morning with breakfast."

Sammy heard the door click shut and the locks fall into place, and then she opened her eyes. She focused on the patch of light on the floor, golden like the sunset, and wondered where she was.

"You think we'll get out of here?" She said aloud, voice dry and tired. "Or is this it? Who would've thought."

If she tried hard enough, she could almost picture Riley sitting next to her where Dilly had just been.