"If you want to know the end, look at the beginning."

West African African Proverb

The small village north of Gulmira had shut down for the evening. Killmonger listened to the call for evening prayers and kept watch for unusual movement. Entrenched in the search for Stark, his squadron doubled down in the two months military leaders had mobilized them in the cold desert. The combination of brittle cold and the harsh sand blowing against their bodies was painful abuse. He dreamed of warm sands on a beach in San Diego instead of the dust storms that occasionally blanketed them and hindered their progress. It was like being in a refrigerator and having someone throw pebbles at his face every ten minutes.

SEAL life was the dull ache of nothing happening for hours at a time and then explosive pockets of chaos as they battled insurgents. He counted stars, sheep, camels, dunes, and villagers to keep his mind active and stave off sleep. His translation of an intercepted message from a suspected member of the Ten Rings brought them all to the enclave that acted as an intermediary for warlords, mercenaries, and black market traders. Tahir was his go-between when new info came across his radar. A certain amount of trust developed between the two of them. The people in the village spoke Pashto, something Killmonger was familiar with in his military language classes while training but not fluent in. Tahir became the missing step in helping him decipher coded messages. His polyglot skills came into play, and he learned the fundamentals of the Indo-Persian language. Tahir was also fluent in several languages, and he gave the impression of being ex-military.

They sat on the sand and smoked cigars together, listening in on transmissions captured to suss out secret messages. Codes went from Pashto to Arabic to English, and Killmonger spent a good amount of time debriefing Lt. Col. Rhodes face to face. Rhodes seemed to be good friends with Stark. His concern for the industrialist's safe return went beyond mere duty.

From the outside, the village looked normal. There were women and children present. Farmers. Traders. Working-class people eking out a living in a war-torn land. During the daytime, they swept through the area, speaking to inhabitants and poking their noses in shops and storage facilities. Gulmira faced a low mountain surrounded by high dunes that were probably filled with spies. Despite not catching anyone worth holding to ferret out intel, Killmonger knew in his gut that Gulmira connected criminals to the village. It was the pipeline that fed the mountain hideaways. Stark had to be sequestered there or close by.

Many sandstorms stalled their raids. The size of biblical horrors, the climate was so ass-backward from global warming that the sand storms often prevented people from growing decent food to expand the village. Goods were brought in from Gulmira in exchange for harboring fugitives or kidnapped individuals. The biggest cash crop was poppy seeds to make opium.

Night after night he sat watching heat signatures. In the daytime, he checked his gear for scorpions and camel spiders that often nestled on humans after a strong sand storm blew them off course and onto warm bodies.

Winding down their nearly third month, Killmonger was ready to go home and be with his woman.

"Time," Killmonger uttered to his squad as the sun went down.

His team roused up from crouched positions spying on the village. Loading up in vehicles, they rode in fast on bullet-proof jeeps and ransacked a building notorious for sheltering an opium drug boss.

"Hasan," Killmonger said, swaggering up to the drug lord.

Hasan glowered as he held his hands up while Killmonger's team searched the premises for Gulmira connects. Normally sporting western clothing and looking like a typical thirty-something hanging on to a fading youth with jeans and Nike kicks, Hasan rolled his eyes at him wearing a dark brown shalwar kameez set.

"Every night? Don't you get tired Yankee? And during Ramadan no less."

Killmonger grinned and held his weapon in a defensive stance.

"Never tired. I told you, playa. I'd be on your ass until I find what I'm looking for. We'll keep applying pressure until one of you mofo's break."

"I am a businessman. A legitimate businessman. I am simply spending time in my home village."

"Save it Hasan," Killmonger spat, eying a young man lurking in the shadows behind Hasan.

"This is my nephew, Jawad. He is an American student. Attending Harvard."

"This ain't Massachusetts, so I don't give a fuck about his education, bruh. Where is Lodhi?"

The rat-a-tat of gunfire outside gave Killmonger his answer. Jawad moved too quick for a hidden weapon and Killmonger popped him quick, catching the man in the back of the head. A gun clattered to the floor.

"Down!" Killmonger yelled.

Hasan grumbled and dropped flat onto his stomach as another SEAL trained a gun on him. Killmonger led the sweep of the bottom floor. Swift and sure, he cleared the room and caught two shadowy figures running down what looked like steps that led to the opening of a cavern. He admired the cleverness of the secret opening that had been hidden behind a tapestry they checked more times than Killmonger could count. They finally caught the men in the act and discovered their underground pipeline to the mountain.

He threw a light down into the dark crevice and shoved a gas mask over his face. His team stormed down after a smoke grenade was released. Shots rang, and he ducked behind a stone wall that jutted out, giving him coverage. One of his men took the shot meant for him because they moved too slow, and Killmonger grabbed his jacket and pulled him behind the covering with him.

"I'm good, I'm good! Flak caught it," Dennings shouted, jumping to his feet and snatching up his weapon.

Dennings gasped and touched his chest. The bullet was still lodged in the flak vest. They plunged further down into the hideaway and found signs of food, water, and dried feces in an unhooked toilet. There were two rumpled pallets in a corner, as well as another long corridor that led to lumpy walls carved to make a tunnel. It was too narrow to take a chance going in not knowing what awaited on the other end.

"Send drones down here," he shouted into his radio.

Using a flashlight, he checked around the littered space that smelled of stale sweat and old urine. On a low wooden table were cigarette butts and a lighter with a Stark logo on it. The lighter fluid was gone and there was dust all over the butts.

"This was probably where he was first held," he said.

Dennings nodded as another part of their team ran down and released small drones to fly down into the corridor. A thin laptop was popped open, and they watched the descent of the drones on four split screens.

"Bring him down here!" Killmonger yelled.

They dragged Hasan down before him.

"Where does this lead?" Killmonger barked.

Hasan smirked, then his body spasmed, and white bubbly spit oozed out of his mouth.

"You assholes didn't watch him?" Killmonger screamed.

Hasan dropped dead at his feet. His body jerked two more times, and he was gone. Killmonger used the tip of his weapon to push apart Hasan's lips. Two halves of a plastic capsule dissolved on his swelling tongue. The poison was quick.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he bellowed.

His team averted eye contact over their screw-up.

"What's that?" Dennings said.

Their eyes went back to the laptop.

"Shiiiiiit! Move out!" Killmonger yelled.

The rumble of an explosion made the ground rock under their feet. They scrambled back up the slabs of carved earth, but the heat of the explosives reached them and blew Killmonger out of the underground dwelling like he was a scrap of paper. Debris fell all around him as the building collapsed. He clawed at his gas mask and pulled it back down, thankful that his upper body was free. His left leg twitched under a beam that pinned him down as flames erupted all around him. Gritting his teeth, he mustered all the strength he could and shook part of the beam off of him before another SEAL helped him by lifting the rest. His legs pumped like mad to clear the area as another rumble rolled the earth.

A gunfight broke out near the rubble and he went into warrior mode, taking out insurgents that swarmed the SEALs. Killmonger clipped a few snipers as he dashed to hide behind a jeep. For an hour, the chaos of smoke, fire, and cascading bullets kept him busy as his team pushed the insurgents back. A cool tingling touched the top of his head and the weight of Ogum rested on his neck. He battled the enemy fire with a straight-forward concentration. Within another two hours, they had the village on lockdown and called in reinforcements to help them find the newest hiding place of Stark and whoever else they held with him.

###

There was another explosion near a mountain terrain called Solitude in the Pashto language. Killmonger sat next to Rhodes on the helicopter sent to search the desert terrain for signs of Hasan's fellow henchmen. Running on little sleep and dehydrated, he was happy to feel sunshine on his skin after a night of fighting.

Earlier, amid burning crates filled with Stark Industries weapons and a cache of stolen Jericho missiles, the SEAL team found bodies incinerated down to charred barbecue coals by what could only have been flamethrowers. Radio chatter ricocheted around the chopper and Killmonger watched Stark's best friend clench and unclench his fists in his crisp fatigues.

"We got something!" their pilot shouted through their headphones.

Down below in the scorching sand and the blinding sunlight, a man hobbled on weary legs with a shirt tied over his head. He waved frantically up to them and the other two choppers sweeping for signs of life.

Rhodes slapped Killmonger's thigh and his eyes shined like diamonds with the trace of tears sitting on his lids. They swooped over Stark and landed away from him, lifting gusts of sand. Rhodes ran out of the chopper first, followed by Killmonger and three other SEALs wielding their weapons too, just in case.

Tony shrieked with joy and fell to his knees with relief. Rhodes dropped in front of him.

"Next time, you ride with me," Rhodes said.

Tony dropped his head on Rhodes's shoulder and wept. Lifting his friend, Rhodes led him back to the chopper.

"Thanks… thanks guys… you don't know how much I appreciate this!" Tony said.

"Yeah, I do," Killmonger said.

He pulled off his shades as they stood by the chopper, waiting for Tony to board.

"Stevens?!"

Tony's red-rimmed eyes took in his attire, and a shit-eating grin brought his sun-scorched face back to life. He reached out and squeezed Killmonger's shoulder.

"Lt. Stevens played a big part in finding you, Tony," Rhodes said.

Tony regarded Killmonger with affection.

"I told you playing behind enemy lines would get you in trouble one day. And to think you didn't want me to join the Navy," Killmonger said.

"I was wrong, Stevens… Erik."

"Let's get you out of here," Killmonger said.

Tony was shaken up bad. His energy fluctuated, and Killmonger sensed unease and a rattling of faith in the man. His own weapons had been used to attack him. They held him captive with those same weapons, and he had to sit with the knowledge that he had armed more terrorists in the last three years than at any time in history.

Stark stared out of the window lost in thought as Rhodes gave play-by-play details of how Killmonger forced the SEALs to stay on top of the small village and search for remnants of the Ten Rings gang there instead of the other places the higher-ups wanted to focus on.

They landed at a secure base in a secret location and Killmonger waited until they were outside of earshot to hand over the intel he received from Tahir. Inside a micro USB, he gave Tony coveted information about one of his corporate buddies. Obadiah Stane.

"You were set up from jump. It's all in there. You were meant to be killed, and your enterprises taken over," Killmonger said.

Tony held the USB and stared at Rhodes. Something unspoken passed between them. Killmonger gathered they suspected Stane of something for a long time. Now they had complete proof. Names, dates, bank accounts, surveillance photos, and Afghan contacts. Klaue was among the pictures and names, too.

Before Tony could say more to him, Airforce personnel ushered him toward a cargo plane. He glanced back at Killmonger and waved. His former intern did not return it. Tapping his left breast pocket, Killmonger felt the second copy of the USB he kept for himself. When he was alone for a restroom break and a chance to eat solid food with his team, he snuck out his cell and deposited two grand into Tahir's personal offshore account. Tahir sent him a cryptic email with the name of a company. Emvolo Defense Services. A way to stay connected. He was going off the grid.

Killmonger heard the whoops and catcalls from his team as he entered the base mess hall.

They were heading home for a deserved rest.

###

Disa grew impatient, tasting various cakes and sample banquet dishes.

Erik was supposed to be there by her side, but his flight to Sao Paulo was delayed again, and she couldn't reschedule the appointment for a fourth time out of embarrassment. She took Marisol and Soliel with her and they ate bites from five different marble cakes and fruit fusions, along with gourmet pairings of meat and vegetables. Save the Date cards were mailed out along with wedding invitations and she had found a designer to make her custom wedding dress through Erik's aunt Serah in London. Serah was friends with Rita Colson, a London-based designer, and Disa would have to fly to Europe for precise measurements and going over fabric swatches. There was so much to do and not having Erik by her side stressed her out.

She tore through notes on her iPad, looking over her new book manuscript. Her UCSD contact helped her secure a publishing deal for her Ph.D. dissertation with a university press. The book would come out at the end of the year and she was over the moon that she could get a well-respected Black architect to do her book forward. It downloaded on her iPad and reading it made her teary-eyed. The forward was damn near an endorsement of her talent from one of the best in the business.

Her cell vibrated on the kitchen table and she smiled when Erik's avatar popped up.

"Hello handsome," she purred.

"Hey, baby. Where are you?"

"At your aunt's house. What time does your flight get in?"

The long pause made her smile vanish.

"I'm being reassigned, Disa."

"What does that mean?"

"This Stark thing got eyes on me and I'm being placed with a JSOC unit."

Disa pushed her phone into her chest. It was the worst news she had heard since the bombings.

"Disa?"

His voice echoed against her breasts.

"You can say no, right?" she said.

"I shouldn't even be telling you this, but I want you to know the truth."

"You promised me you were getting out."

"I am. Just not soon with this new assignment. It's elite shit. A fucking ghost unit—"

"I'm not one of your military buddies, Erik. I'm not impressed with you becoming the President's private killer—"

"Baby—"

"No!"

"We'll have to postpone the wedding."

She hung up on him. Her entire body shook and her hot anger dried up any tears that may have fallen on any other day. Her cell vibrated on her thigh and she ignored it. The landline rang and Soliel answered it.

"Disa! It's JaJa!" she called out from the living room.

Marisol strolled in with hair curlers in her hair.

"Jaja is on the phone for you," she said, plucking a finger on a loose roller.

"We're not getting married next year. He's accepted a new assignment!"

"What?"

Disa dashed into the living room and took the phone from a startled Soliel.

"I mailed over one hundred invitations yesterday! Now I have to tell people to forget it!" she screamed into the phone.

Red rage surged through her.

"I booked the venue and paid for it. I booked my flight for the dress. I'm just out here wasting money, Erik!"

"Calm down. It's just a postponement until I'm settled in with the unit."

She took deep breaths and tried to settle her nerves.

"Disa, it'll be fine. Focus on your book and keep busy with your business. We're working adults building something together. We're planting seeds for the future. I promise you this will pay off in the end."

"What seeds are you planting? You kill people for a living! You're better than that. Why go deeper into it?"

"I'm in Germany right now on a layover and I'll be in San Diego tomorrow night. Go to London, get the dress started, then come home to me and we can talk this all out in person."

"Okay… okay," she said.

Disa focused on getting her blood pressure down and her jaw unclenched. It was just a delay. Their friends and family would understand. Her agitation stemmed from not seeing him for months because of the Tony Stark capture.

"I love you," he said.

His voice sounded hollow, like he was reaching for her assurances.

"I love you too. I'm just angry… upset."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I'll see you soon."

She hung up, and Soleil stared at her with concern. Marisol stood near her with sad eyes.

"I'm going to pack for London, and then I'm going to send out a large group message on our wedding website and announce the postponement due to unforeseen circumstances."

She rushed out of the living room and closed herself in the bathroom.

Doubt ate at her insides, but she pushed back on it.

###

Disa smiled as her flight landed in San Diego.

Rita Colson went above and beyond with her design sketches, and the material Disa chose for her light cream off-the-shoulder dress was a fantastic amalgamation of delicate lace and buttery satin. Her exquisite see-through bridal veil had an East African-inspired stitching with the edges trimmed with tear-drop pearls. She couldn't wait for the day Erik would see her in it when it was finished, and they were back in Sao Paulo together.

The wedding plans became more real once Disa touched the fabric that her dress would be made from. She opted to hold off on ordering new invitations until they locked Erik into a schedule without military interference. For now, guests could RSVP online for a TBD.

She practiced breathing techniques as the plane taxied to its gate, and she bounded off, tapping her phone for a Lyft. Their new rental condo was in a half-filled building. Rent was cheap because people were frightened to live near the Amphib base. Rolling her suitcase into the elevator, she rode up to their floor in high spirits. Erik was at work and she could rest up before seeing him later that evening.

Walking into the condo, she smelled the stench of booze and weed. She clocked all the debris from a messy party. She also noticed a fully nude Black man on her couch fucking a naked white woman in missionary. Long balls and a wide muscular ass were all she could see. Groaning, the man turned his head and his facial expression switched from pleasure to embarrassment.

"Oh, shit. Are you housekeeping?" he yelped.

Disa left her bag by the front door and stomped her way to the bedroom. Pushing the door open, she stopped in her tracks. Erik's nude body was curled to the side and a naked Black woman, the spitting image of a perfect Black Barbie doll, had her thigh and arm thrown across his body. Large breasts poked into his back and Erik's dick was fully erect.

Air pushed out of her mouth so fast that Disa had to sit on the chair next to the bed to keep from falling over. An open box of condoms sat on the nightstand. Erik slept hard, the kind of sleep he went under when he drank too much and passed out. There were fresh keloid scars across his chest and one of them bled under the finger of the woman draped across his body. She willed herself not to walk into the kitchen and grab the first knife she came across. There had to be a reasonable explanation as to why her fiancé was butt naked in bed with another woman. The nigga wasn't crazy enough to cheat on her when he put her through so much hell with his job.

"In the name of Allah, most gracious, most merciful, praise be to Allah, the cherisher and sustainer of the worlds. Master of the Day of Judgement, thee do we worship, and thine aide we seek…"

Disa stared at her man and prayed out loud until Erik stirred awake. His eyes pried themselves open, and he smiled when he saw her.

"Hey, baby. You're home finally!"

He tried to sit up and looked surprised by the extra weight around his body.

"The fuck?'

He rolled away from the woman and glared down at her nudity. His fat dick bobbed as he bent over and shook the new bedmate.

"Aye! Wake up!" he said.

The woman rolled an arm back and her thigh fell open. A condom was still wedged in her vagina. Disa stood up then. The woman's eyes blinked open.

"Morning lover," the woman whispered.

The sound died in her throat when she noticed Disa standing next to Erik.

"I don't know what the fuck is going on, but you better make me understand why this bitch is in my bed with your dick looking like that!" Disa yelled.

"I don't know this woman!" Erik shouted.

The woman's lips curled back, revealing blinding white teeth.

"You didn't say that when you nutted on my tits last night," the woman said.

Disa hauled back and slapped the dog shit out of Erik's face. Then she reached for the woman.