A/N: I sincerely apologize for the hiatus. Work has had me swamped, but I also got a puppy, who is turning my world upside down! You can blame her for the lack of steady updates, since most of my time is dedicated to retrieving my personal items from her teeth.

Again, I apologize for the long delay. It took a bit to get back into the swing, but it hasn't stopped me from brainstorming up the wahzoo. Enjoy!

Ch 19: Business, or Pleasure?

"I never liked the smell of this city." Yevgeny complained, glancing from behind the shades. Outside the noon lighting did little to compliment the concrete city in all its ragged splendor. It reminded him too much of the poor desolated parts of his home country. Empty husks. Ugly reminders of broken promises. He let the shades fall back into place, stepping away from the windows.

"We won't be here long. Cassy will be here with Rook this evening. I foresee tomorrow going smoothly. We'll by wheels up by late noon." The Hydra said matter of fact.

"Late noon? That sounds rather ambitious of you." Yevgeny hated staying somewhere longer than absolutely necessary, especially when the risks were so high. When Makarov was alive, he had made great efforts to rally Ultranationalists around the world to his cause. Not everyone agreed though. That's why they were here today.

They were in Pyongyang, North Korea and hours away from meeting with the temperamental leader Kung Lin. Makarov had reached out to him before for support under Zakhaev's rule, attempting to rekindle the old Communist blood ties. Yevgeny had posed as his ambassador, and short of working miracles, had bridged the long silent gap between the two countries. Hands shook. Monies exchanged. Still circling each other like wary dogs, but it had been a start. Progress had been slow and steady since then. Makarov had spearheaded his uprising with Korea backing his forces in the shadows, Yevgeny steading in his place and monitoring progress.

Today was different though, as Sofija was offering something a bit more on the table this time in hopes to entice Kung Lin into a stronger partnership. Regardless of the outcome of today's events though, the dictator's decision was already made for him. He just didn't know it yet.

By evening their counter parts arrived in Pyongyang on time, and took up residence on the opposite side of the city. You could never be too careful about pooling all of your resources in one location. Morning broke over the city in a murky fog, drowning the city in a combination of humidity and pollution. By 0800hrs sharp a black suburban was waiting for them downstairs. After a very convoluted car ride, Sofija and Yevgenvy stepped out onto the grand steps of the presumable official residence of North Korea's leader. From behind Cassy and Rook were exiting a second black SUV that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Without so much a word they were brought inside a luxurious solar study where Kung Lin was already kneeling at the head of a polished black table. Sofija was the first to be directed to the closest seat to the young dictator not before giving a respectable bow, followed by Rook, Cassy, and Yevgeny last. He didn't take it personal -he was only a low man on the pole as far as Kung Lin was concerned. The dictator was right to be distrustful of him.

"It is with great honor to share in your presence, great leader Kung Lin." Sofija opened the conversation, her voice an exquisite balance that was hard as lightning, yet soft as candlelight.

"Miss Pavković, you have my condolences on the execution of Makarov. I was informed you were his devout supporter, and consort." Yevgeny watched Sofija stiffen at the remark.

It was no secret that the Hydra and Makarov were the Russian equivalent to the famed American Bonnie and Clyde. But what no one knew was that Makarov never acknowledged their relationship- it was almost as if it were expected of her, the king taking his rightful lion's share of Sofija's devotion. Paid for by the pound of flesh. Vladimir had used her to further execute his will, manipulating and molding Sofija into the extremist Hydra. All he had to do was whisper sweet nothings in her ear, words that held no weight, but the gravity of them was unmatched. She would kill for him, she would die for him. Never question his authority, or his motives. With no guiding hand, the Hydra was a wroth beast lacking focus. Revenge, fuel by reckless enthusiasm, was simply directing her to blindly lash out. Had it not been for his own influence over Sofija, they wouldn't have gotten this far in their mobilization.

"Your excellence Kung Lin," Sofija said in that oh-so-disarming way, bearing her teeth in a cordial pensive smile, her chin tilted up in an air of refined arrogance. The face of a grinning dragon before it swallowed its next meal.

"I was initiator and purveyor of Vladimir's chemical attacks used in Operation Cloak and Dagger. Without me, he wouldn't have had such a successful attack. And Vladimir wasn't executed. He was assassinated, in a coordinated attack by the enemy. A mutual enemy to the both of us I might add."

The steely bite in her tone caught the leader by surprise. It was not every day someone spoke back to him, more or less down to him, like the Hydra just had. One of his lackeys entered the study bearing a tray with one of the finest brewed teas there was to offer in the world. Small antique cups were placed in front of each of the leader's guests, and the beverage dispensed in a hard silence.

"And Despite Makarov's best efforts, his rebellion was still silenced. And now you come running to me with your tail between your legs. What makes you think you're so different?" It was a valid question. When you're a successful dictator of a whole country, you earn you're right to be an insensitive asshole.

"I'd like to remind you, Vladimir was able to bring the world to its knees, and launch a full scale attack on United States soil with no other standing armies other than what he was able to acquire when he coup'ed the Russian government. He fought against forces on our own home soil, half of Europe, and overseas. Right now all their militaries are exhausted and they're struggling to rebuild their countries. Now is the opportune time to attack."

Kung Lin folded his hands on the table and took a steadied breath, surveying the whole crowd before returning his gaze to the Hydra. Hydra motioned to Cassy to present her supporting documentation. A black leather bound file folder was passed forward. Sofija pulled a few documents from the folder and passed them forward to Kung Lin.

"My team has been working double time to amass our resources. Over 600,000 troops in various border countries, surplus munitions and ground units mobile. We've already secured aircraft and are awaiting to establish naval capabilities. But I cannot offer you what you already have. Instead, I'm presenting you this."

Sofija handed off another packet of information. Yevgeny noted the subtle lift of the dictator's brow as he glanced through the top pages with interest. He studied the information in silence.

"Impressive on paper." Kung Lin noted, studying a schematic diagram,

"But this is as useful to me as the malarkey you spew."

"Project Andromeda is operational and awaiting power cell supplies. Thanks to the fine work of my men, we've had successful supply launches for the past 7 months uninterrupted. Cassy, our engineer is overseeing the development of our latest hybrid weapon, which you can find on page 34. As for the Pelagics, the, Svetovid's been running deep and silent for 2 years, with one year free of incidents. Her sister the Morana, is currently undergoing a battery of exercises for launch capabilities."

Kung Lin studied a few more pages closer, falling on one page in particular.

"And this?"

The Hydra rest her elbows on the table and leaned in closer, unable to suppress the sly grin.

"Oh, that? That's the Event Horizon…"

Several hours later…

"I told you we'd be wheels up by noon, Yaridovich." Sofija snapped, her head held high when she threw a languid look over her shoulder at Yevgeny. The glare bounced clean off of him as he took a last drag on his cigarette. A hot wind whipped across the tarmac like a wet slap in the face, standing as a reminder of how much he despised this place.

"It was a rather magnificent display of power my lady. And control. Kung Lin is not easily swayed."

"And you'll make sure he stays on our side, now won't you?"

"Just speak the word, and it'll be done." Like a hound standing in the slips. Yevgeny wasn't only her informant, he was a man of action, the silent sleight of hand.

"Not yet. I want to see how far Kung Lin will go before I require his full cooperation. If you suspect he's about to cross us, I want to be the second one to know."

"The second?" Yevgeny's brow creased in slight concern.

"Yes, the second. Because I want your man on the inside to be the first. Just tell me when the deed is done. Let's go, we have much to do."

Morning is an absolute daze. I'm stuck in this surreal feeling. Last night keeps playing in my mind. Over and over. As the clock in my room moves closer to 0600, and the hospital begins to stir with foot traffic, I find myself out of bed and pacing the windows in my room. I'm anxious. Even more so when Elle doesn't come in, an I'm greeted by Naomi instead.

The gravity of it doesn't quit sink in until I'm paired up with Whitney for PT. I should have known he was up to something, because he was oddly quiet all morning. Just after our lunch break Chad strikes up the conversation, which is anything but subtle.

"John?" He looks serious. Sounds serious. Concerned.
"What the hell did you do to Miss Elle?"

It's the mention of Elle's name that snaps me out of it.
"What are you talking about?"

Because I was thinking of doing a lot terrible of things to her that I didn't do, before he interrupted my thoughts.

"You take a fucking belt sander to her face?" I'm struggling to grasp what the hell he just said to me, because it's not registering. I hadn't seen her all morning.

"No. What the hell are you talking about Chad?"

"Nothing." He throws his hands up, like he's claiming innocence, backing up a little. I know he's mocking me. As expected though, the real Chad shines through, in a burst of brilliant enthusiasm.
"Fucking savage man!"

Yep. Another punch. Right in the goddamn same shoulder that got him in trouble in the first place.

"Oy, you fuck." The pain is a blinding shock. Kind of like when you stub your toe and all you want to do is destroy that object that inflicted pain on you. Today that object's name happens to be Chad Whitney. He's going to get that matching black eye a lot sooner that I first thought. Until I remember there's 90+ lbs of over watch laying in the corner of the room, observing our exchange with much anticipation. I shake it out, and Chad apologizes, because he knows he's gone too far with his rough housing shit.

"Was that really necessary?" because I felt it all the way down through my numb fingertips.

"You better divulge the details or you'll be getting another."

"I don't have to tell you shit."

Chad winds up for another and feigns an attack. He's like that antagonizing little brother you can't shake. Except he's older than me and should know better. Jakob and Anna look ready to drop everything they're doing to break up the potential fist fight about to explode in the PT room. Chad backs down, because he knows when I come after him, it'll be for blood. He wades back into the conversation calmly.

"You two came in late last night. She left even later."

"Since when is it your business?"

"Listen you ornery motherfucker! I know all, and see all. I had to make up double time on those Cavalry girls in your absence. You owe me answers."

"I don't owe you anything."

"Tell me John, how tight was that shit?"

The words actually manifest itself as a physical pain. This man physically pains me. I take a long pause to collect myself, trying to figure out how to head this conversation off before it got way out of hand.

"Even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you." Not that I hadn't been fantasizing about it all morning and afternoon. Every guy tells 'war stories' from the behind the lines. Some always felt the need to brag in order to help project the image they wanted, and build a reputation. I preferred the more modest approach. Actions speak louder than words. And gossip spreads like wildfire.

"Sooooo…no boom-boom?"

I shoot him the most flat, indifferent stare.

"No."

I watch Chad lean back on his heels in deep contemplation. Arms folded over his chest, a thumb and forefinger fidgeting under his chin. It's a long moment before he speaks.

"John…" His words are slow and solemn, like the weight of the world is on his shoulders.
"You have not only disappointed me, but all the male species as well. What the fuck's wrong with you?!"

"Nothing." I'm not mentally engaged for battle, but there's a whole lot of pent up hostility I was more than ready to unleash in a good brawl if it meant the end to Whitney's incessant nagging.

"I just can't comprehend how the world's most bad ass motherfucker, turns down an all-you-can-eat pass at some premium pussy. Like, quite literally."

"I don't know what to tell you Chad. Shit happens." The nonchalant shrug of my shoulders causes his brow to twitch in frustration. I have no excuse to give him that would suffice his curiosity. Whitney can't seem to let it go.

"Shit -did not happen- is what the problem is Johnny-boy. Unless…."

And there those little wheels in his head go, turning 10,000 RPMs as he concocts some abstract, highly detailed account of an incident that never actually happened.
"Don't even go there, Chad." I give him fair warning.

"Unless you done fucked up and aren't man enough to own up to it. You sure you even like girls?"

"As much as any man worth his salt. Where'd you even see Elle this morning?" I try to shift the subject to something less intrusive and vulgar. I wanted to keep the details of last night's sortie under the radar until I had time to actually sort out what had happened between us. Elle had been so sure of herself, and I was the one standing around twiddling my thumbs.

"She hasn't been by to see you yet? Oh you must have really done it in!"

I had noted Elle's absence as suspicious. Yet, despite my best efforts to convince myself otherwise, I still felt slighted. Not that there was anything there between us. And I had no right to feel privy to her attention. But, I at least expected the professional courtesy of being told to "fuck off" if things had gone down that badly.

Maybe it was too much alcohol. Maybe she really meant no. Then again, she did have her tongue down….

"Shit, I'm just fucking with you. I only got a brief glance at her when I took Wally out to yard this morning. She was checking in at the front desk. That's when I noticed how jacked up her face was. And it ain't no blush either, it's full on road rash!"

I'm still a bit baffled by this apparent 'face-wrecking' that Chad keeps referring to, but I'll probably find out one way or another by the end of the day.
"How'd she'd look?"

"Practically glowing. Had a smile on her face stretching from about here to here." He holds his arms out wide, almost as big as his own mischievous grin when he laughs.
"You know, there's nothing sexier than a woman who's all hot n' heavy and ready to roll. I mean, if you can't perform under pressure, I'll gladly take the bullet for you Johnny-boy."

"You can piss up a rope."

"Don't be such a hostile prick."

"I wouldn't be if you quit badgering me."

"No, you wouldn't be if you cashed in on your ticket to pound-town last night- Oh, afternoon Miss Elle!" Chad gives a quick bow of his head to someone over my shoulder.

For some reason, I felt a sharp ring down my spine at the mention of Elle's name. Before I could turn around, I feel her hand come to rest at the small of my back as she steps up along my side.

"Are you spreading rumors again, Mr. Whitney?" Elle takes the conversation in stride. I don't know how much of it she had heard, but you certainly can't say "pound-town" in a public area and not expect to turn a few heads.

"They're not rumors if they're true. I just enjoy seeing Johnny-boy getting all riled up. He's probably my favorite person to fuck with."

"Keep it up Mr. Whitney and I know he'll give you a run for your money." Elle turns her attention up at me.
"Good afternoon John."

"Afternoon Elle." The words barely get out of my mouth without first catching the rough tone I had been using with Chad just moments ago. The looks she's giving me takes the edge right off, and all those confusing feelings from last night resurface. I also notice how red and irritated Elle's nose and chin appears.

"Which, speaking of running, I'd like to get you boys outside in the next couple of weeks and move you onto the track. I'm not fond of the idea of keeping you cooped up inside for so long. You're both coming along very nicely."

Her hand drifts away, making a purposeful brush along my backside on its descent. Smooth. Totally a guy's move. Somehow, I feel like I'm on the reverse end of this relationship.

"And I'd think it'd be a great way to burn off some of this excess energy. J.J.'s self-proclaimed himself as C-Wing's bookie."

"They bettin' on anything good?" Whitney asks, throwing a knowing glance to me before returning his eyes to Elle. I completely forgot Chad had said the boys had started a pool on what events were to transpire over the holiday. That's why the bastard was prying so hard for details.

"God knows how many pools he's running now. I know he's started some fantasy league sports stuff as well. I'm sure he'll let you get in on it if you ask nicely." Elle replies, tucking a few loose stands behind her ear. Her hair is in a messy braid similar to last night's.

"Then I'll have to make sure John and I swing by and touch bases. Sounds like they're having a lot of fun down there." Since when did I want to get involved in this shit? From what little I did know, there was a ledger book with my name in it and a pot of cash riding on the outcome.

"They're an unruly lot. That's why Rafney's in charge of them. I'm quite thankful for all of my boys down here. You're the ones who remind me why I come to work every day."

The asshole that Chad is, starts snickering that dirty was he does. I expect something terrible to come out of his mouth next.
"Glad we can be a motivation, Miss Elle. I know you are to us." He flashes his big smile and winks. The Yank sure knows how to ham it up.

"Well, thank you! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a job to do. John, I'm having Jakob work with you this afternoon. Mr. Whitney, you'll be coming with me and Anna. Just let me gather a few things before we take off."

Elle rushes away towards Jakob and Anna, who've been quietly bantering back and forth throughout the day while overseeing our progress. I'm starting to get the feeling Elle's avoiding me, but her earlier gestures having me feeling otherwise. I'm just outright confused at this point.

"Got that John? Menage a tois!" Chad settles on elbowing me in the ribs.

"Keep dreaming Chad."

From the corner of my eye, I catch Elle, Anna, and Jakob making their approach. With one word Wally's up on his feet and heels to Whitney's side as Elle and Anna break away. As Chad gets swept off with Anna leading him, Elle hangs back for just one moment to smile at me before she disappears after them down the hall.

"Are you ready to work on those fine motor skills Mr. MacTavish?" Jakob asks. He's a good kid, and always in good spirits much like his mentor. It's been a while since we've had some one-on-one time. And it'll be a much appreciated break from Whitney's patronizing chatter.

"As ready as I'll get."

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed. It was a long chapter, but I kind of let the conversation free-style and meander. Had a lot going on here. Thanks again to all my readers!