After a few years of playing around with the idea, I finally decided to rewrite my fic, Operation: Poisoned Heart. Originally, I was going to wait until I had the entire thing finished, but I feel that if I wait to do that I may never actually get around to posting it. I have the first two chapters done, and the third is in progress. I don't think this is going to be as long as the original in terms of chapters, but I imagine that it may end up being longer in terms of word count.

As with the original story, this is still inspired by Myde the Turk and her series of PoM humanized one-shots/drabbles from the collection called Moments with the prologue still being based loosely on 'Demise' in Chapter 4 #92.

However, I have made some major adjustments and changes to the plot overall as I have grown as a writer since publishing the first chapter of Poisoned Heart in 2011. One change is that I have blended some character elements/plot points from the Park Avenue humanizations into this fic, but that series does not need to be read to enjoy this fic. What hasn't changed is that this still contains Kico, Koris, and some mentions of past Skans/established Skilene.

With all of that being said, please enjoy! And remember to tip your fic writer (with reviews, faves, and follows)

Operation: Heartstrings

Prologue

Skipper observed his small rookery as they sat in the back of a nondescript van headed to the nearest CENTRAAL base where they would be swept away by medical. The blood on their clothes wouldn't even be dry before Alice would come swooping in with a team to collect statements and begin the debriefing process. They may have come out on top but it had been a long fight with too many near casualties for his comfort. His head was still spinning and his side ached with every breath from the hit from ChromeClaw 2.0 he had taken earlier and he couldn't begin to imagine how the others felt. Although he knew the alternative was far worse. Especially when the odds hadn't exactly been in their favor to start with making it a God-given miracle that they had made it out intact let alone alive or as close to alive as they could be at the moment.

To his right Private was slumped back against the seat with his eyes closed while blood continued to crawl across the white field wrappings around his knee. It had slowed considerably but was guaranteed to require stitches. Any bump in the road caused the youngest member to wince and Skipper was sure that something had gotten torn in the young man's shoulder during their jailbreak.

Although out of any of them he figured Kowalski, who had been the reason for the mission to start with, would have the longest recovery. Rico would be a close second but less from the physical aspect and more from a mental one. His eyes fell to the pair seated across from him and he allowed himself to feel relief at the sight of Kowalski, even as battered as the man was, returning bloodied and bruised and alive was far better than returning bloody, bruised and in a body bag.

That had been their first fear when an attack at the convention Kowalski was speaking at had been blown sky high and it had been their second fear when they learned that the bombing had been part of Blowhole's plan to capture the resident genius of the team.

Skipper silently hoped he never had to see one of his own manipulated like that again—collared like an animal and void of free will. Yet, in that same vein of thought, he was also thankful that Rico hadn't been that one Blowhole had gotten his hands on. He had forgotten what Rico was capable of, especially, when the man didn't hold back. On some level, he understood the brutal strength and raw anguish that Rico had displayed going up against Blowhole. Hell, he would've liked to get a few good licks in, but by the time he had escaped his own cell, it was all over.

A shiver ran down Skipper's spine as he recalled the sight of Blowhole's battered body in a growing pool of crimson and a trembling Rico on his knees beside Kowalski, desperately looking for a release on the device around the lieutenant's neck.

Nixon's Foreign Policy Blowhole had outdone himself Skipper thought and couldn't help but feel a rush of anger noting the bleeding wounds around Kowalski's neck and Rico's bloody and blistered hands. He was still having a hard time wrapping his mind around the lengths that Blowhole had gone to try to defeat them.

It was clear now in hindsight, that Blowhole had taken the time to study them and learn from past mistakes. Skipper didn't believe that there was a weak link in his team, rather he kept in mind that each of them while bringing a unique skill set and strength to the team, each of them also had a weakness. When they worked as a team, the weaknesses often went unseen as they filled in whatever gaps were missing from one another, but Blowhole had unraveled the ways the team worked. Had learned the Kowalski was the weakest in terms of strength and fighting ability making him the easiest to subdue.

Skipper eyed the dried blood splattered across Rico and the way he had held onto Kowalski and knew that Blowhole would have succeeded in his mission to destroy them had it not been for the one mistake in his plan. By not taking into consideration the devotion they had to each other as a team, Blowhole had set up his downfall. Rico had once lived by the rule that when it came to protecting your own, you made a point of not holding back, but when it came to protecting someone you loved? There was no holding back. A weight seemed to settle in Skipper's gut as it crossed his mind that the carnage wrought by Rico's hands had been driven by something far stronger than their credo.