"If you give me anymore weapons, I'm not going to be able to move," I said dryly as Clint tried to hand me a third knife. I already had 2 in my boots. Not that I was going to need them, or at least I hoped not.

"You need to be prepared for anything," Clint argued, pushing the knife handle into my hand. "Where's your ammo pouches?"

I pointed to the pile on the ground that were stuffed to the point of bursting. We were in the armoury while Clint was helping me outfit for the training exercise I was about to go on. Our Christmas trip to see Laura and the kids had ended up extending until New Years Day. What was going to be a simple fix in the bathroom ended up in Laura getting a new bathroom. The water had damaged the floor, so we all pitched in ripping it all out and replacing it. While he was there, Clint re-tiled everything and installed a better shower. There'd been plenty of awkward moments between Clint and Laura, but they'd kept amicable for the sake of Lila and Cooper. There wasn't any progress between Laura and Clint looking like they might fix things between them, they did work out a schedule for Clint to visit. A weekend a month at this stage was better than nothing at all.

"And you've already fitted your AWSM with the paintball convertor?" Clint asked me for the 4th time.

"Yes dear." It was very hard to not roll my eyes at Clint. He was making an incredible fuss over me. If he kept going we were going to miss our takeoff. Clint and I were flying to Lewis-McChord base in Washington State where everyone was meeting. From there I'd go with the team I was put with to our undisclosed location for the training exercise.

"And the P30?" Clint eyed off the sidearms sitting on top of my AWSM case. "You know, we could probably give you a bow as well. You can take the one I use for these kind of things."

"I don't need a bow." While I was flattered of Clint's offer to trust me with one of his bows, I doubted I'd have any need for it. "Come on Barton, we have to go. Coulson will never trust us again if we're late for this."

Coulson was overseeing Jared's first mission back in the field. Natasha and Jared had been assigned a very boring surveillance mission in Tokyo. While Coulson's supervision for the mission wasn't exactly necessary, he'd insisted being the one to see Jared back in the field. I thought Jared might be having doubts about being back in the field, but he was excited to be getting back into it. It still didn't stop me worrying about him.

"Body armour?" Clint frowned at the pile I had. It was something I hadn't thought about grabbing. "At least some of the light weight kevlar so you aren't covered in welts from the paintballs."

"Says the person who never wears his," I joked as I went to the rack where all the STRIKE body armour was hanging up. We all had our own personal body armour which was custom fit. I hadn't used mine in so long it had cobwebs on it.

"Do you not remember hobbling around for a week and a half after Natasha shot you with the chalk round?" Clint crossed his arms, an amused smirk playing on his face though he was trying to hide it. "Paintballs hurt a thousand times more."

I shuddered remembering how much it'd hurt that day. I'd never seen such a colourful bruise in my entire life after Natasha had shot me point blank with a chalk round. That was a year ago now.

"I will be a good girl and wear my kevlar." I brushed off the cobwebs and threw the vest on the pile of gear I had. "Not that I plan on getting shot. I'm STRIKE Team Delta and untouchable."

"That's my girl." Clint looked so proud of me. "Don't forget, you can use your powers on this exercise. Your invisibility should help a lot if they run it like when I did it."

Clint had explained to me while we were at the archery range yesterday that most of the time these kind of exercise were attack and defend teams. You'd either be attacking a complex or defending one. It didn't change much, so it gave me a small insight into what I might need to do. The teams were carefully chosen, so it's likely I'd be the only sniper on whichever team I was put on.

"I will." I nodded eyeing my pile of stuff. Along with my bag of personal belongings, there was a lot of shit we had to carry to the Quinjet. "Are we done here?"

"We're done."

I blew out a small sigh of relief as I started to pick up all of my gear. I'd have to pack it all properly while I was on the Quinjet. But at least we weren't going to be late. Clint grabbed some of the heavier stuff, along with my personal bag.

"If you use the collapsible bow…" Clint began but got cut off with a withering glare from me. "Hey come on, even you have to admit your archery is 200 percent better than it was this time last year. You should show it off."

"I have a very demanding teacher," I said dryly, picking up my AWSM case. "I've never done it under pressure, so I don't want to make a fool of myself by pretending I'm a female Hawkeye."

Clint wrinkled his nose but didn't argue against my point. He wasn't wrong though. While we hadn't been cleared for the range, Clint had really stepped up my archery training. I was getting very confident over longer distances and moving objects. I could even rapid fire 5 arrows in a row now without losing accuracy. But the only pressure I'd ever been under was Clint's teaching. I wasn't quite ready for a training situation yet. It'd probably be another year before I'd be ready for a real-world situation. It was still fun doing it to show off though.

My nerves started to kick in as we walked to the Quinjet hanger. Clint kept me talking so I didn't have a chance to ponder on it too much. It was an odd feeling of swinging between nerves and excitement. There'd been a few jealous grumbles amongst STRIKE when the guys found out I was doing this exercise. Apparently, Exercise Black Bag was one of the most fought over training exercises to get picked for. In my usual oblivious fashion, I hadn't known about it until Coulson slid the folder across the desk that day.

It seemed to only take minutes before we were in the Quinjet. While I stowed my gear away, Clint ran through the pre-flight. Both were like second nature to both of us now.

"There are days I regret teaching you to fly," I teased, settling into the co-pilot seat. "I never get to fly when you're with me anymore."

"Yeah, but I don't make your airsick so you can't complain," Clint teased me straight back. "Even though you will."

"Loudly and bitterly," I said smartly. "Just like you do when I fly."

Clint laughter made me smile broadly. He'd been in such a good mood since this last week. The good mood had been contagious and further improved with me spending last weekend with Gareth. It was another fun weekend of great sex and going out. We caught up with a few of the pilots at a bar on Saturday night. It ended up being a little bit wilder than anticipated, but I had so much fun. The fact I won every single pool game didn't hurt either. Clint had laughed his ass off at my texting commentary while I was winning all the games. The only downside to the weekend with Gareth is that he'd gotten his overseas tour approved. He was leaving at the end of February for 3 months. It was disappointing to realise I was losing my fuck buddy so quickly. But it was one for 3 months. I'd gone without sex for that long before, it wouldn't kill me now.

I slumped back in the co-pilot chair as Clint took us out onto the runway. It was a 5 hour flight today and I really needed to get a nap in before we got there. I hadn't slept well last night, I'd been on and off awake all night with nerves and excitement about today.

"So what else can you tell me about this?" I asked, pulling my sunglasses down as we broke out into the early morning sun.

"Not much." Clint looked thoughtful as he flipped a few switches on the Quinjet. "Sleep when you can. Kick some ass. Coulson left some Ambient and stimulants if you need either one of them. They do like to fly or drive you around for hours in blacked out vehicles for hours to confuse where you're going. Sometimes you end up in Canada, other times 5 minutes down the road."

"I'm going to need that Ambien if I'm flying for 15 hours with another pilot in god knows what kind of plane." I smiled over at Clint. "Did you already stash them in my bag?"

"Of course," Clint said with a chuckle. "In your front compartment."

Air Traffic cleared us a second later, cutting off the thank you I was about to say. Beneath us the Quinjet's engines power increased for take off. Clint and I wore near identical expressions of joy as the power kicked in on the Quinjet. With a rumble of the engine, we lifted into the blue morning sky. No matter how many times I did it, there was always a thrill hitting the power and soaring into the air. It would be more fun if I was flying, but I trusted Clint.

It was a beautiful morning. There was barely a cloud in the sky and you could see for miles. I watched the city fall away underneath us as we climbed to altitude.

"So do I call you for pick up once I'm done?" I turned back to Clint once we got too high to see the scenery any longer.

"No." Clint shook his head. He hit the autopilot so we could talk. "I'll be in command watching everything. You'll wear body cam and all the communication comes back to command. So I'm basically Coulson for the next few days."

"That sounds like you're going to be bored out of your mind," I said with a small wrinkle of my nose. At least Coulson is used to things like this. Clint was liable to shoot someone if he got too bored. Or if they said anything bad about me.

"It's either be bored watching you kick ass or sit in your apartment by myself." Clint's expression mirrored my own. "At least I can laugh at a bunch of spec ops guys get their asses kicked by a 120 pound girl."

"I'm 126 right now," I tried to sound indignant but it was hard to hold back my smile. It was good to see Clint in a happy mood. Truthfully I'd been a little worried about Clint being left by himself. I remember all too well about what happened to me when I thought I'd be fine left alone. He may be putting on a smiling face for the outside world, but I saw the bad days while we were alone. It'd taken Laura a week to agree on another visit. That week had seen Clint as quiet and withdrawn as he first was when it all blew up. The only thing that made him smile was his nightly phone calls with his kids.

"So do you want to try and get some sleep now or talk tactics?" Clint asked.

"Tactics." I was too wired to sleep right now. From what Clint was saying it sounded like I was going to have ample time to have some sleep on the other end. Then again, knowing my luck I could be up for the next 48 hours and really regretting my decision not to sleep now.

The flight flew by as Clint threw scenarios at me and how I'd react to them. Or how I'd send a team in. It was a lot of fun, mainly because I actually felt confident these days on how I'd handle the situation. Short of a full scale alien invasion, Clint and Natasha's training could get me through nearly anything.

We got cleared to land as soon as we hit the airspace. As we taxied into the spot given for the Quinjet, there was already a car waiting with a figure in fatigues leaning against it.

"That's Colonel Smith, he's head of running it this year," Clint explained as he powered down. "Don't expect a warm greeting. He's an asshole. Or he was when I had to deal with him. Ex Delta and he hates STRIKE."

"Great." This wasn't helping my nerves which had kicked in again. "Here, let me get all my shit out so he can probably have a dig at me for being a typical woman and packing too much."

Clint gave me an apologetic grin but did as he was asked. It was partly his fault I had so much stuff anyway. Between us, we got all of my stuff and stepped out into the freezing morning. I huddled into my coat a little more as we walked across to the car and Colonel Smith.

"Morning Sir," I greeted him as we got close enough. I hoped being pleasant might offset some of his so-called attitude. "Thank you for meeting us."

"Agent Lyngley," Smith nodded at me politely. "If you want to stow your gear, I'll take your straight to your team. Agent Barton, someone will be along to collect you momentarily."

At least there was no nasty jabs at me. I put my gear in the trunk of the car and turned to Clint. I was feeling a little lost already and I hadn't even left him yet.

"Don't be an asshole," I switched to Russian to cover my increasing nerves. "I'll see you when it finishes."

"Kick some ass," Clint replied in the same language, giving me a pat on the shoulder. "Like I know you will."

Here's hoping. I gave Clint a small smile before climbing into the passenger seat. It was weird going off on my own. I'd always had someone I knew with me during my missions in SHIELD. Now I was very alone stepping into something I'm not sure I was prepared for despite everything I'd just done with Clint on the flight here. There was no going back now so I may as well put my big girl pants on. I squared my shoulders taking in a deep breath. I could do this.

"Do I need to warn your team to be on their best behaviour around you?" Smith asked me gruffly as we pulled away.

"They can be on their worst behaviour if they feel like it, Sir," I said honestly. "I was a fighter pilot before STRIKE. I'm more than capable of handling whatever they feel like throwing at me."

My answer seemed to satisfy Smith. He gave me a curt nod and turned his attention back to the road. It was awkward sitting in the car in complete silence. The radio wasn't even on. Smith was ramrod straight in his chair as he drove. I couldn't tell if this was him being normal, or he really wasn't pleased about my presence. Luckily the car trip only lasted 5 minutes.

"This is you." Smith jerked his head in the direction of the building. It wasn't much, just a portable building seemingly out in the middle of nowhere. "You've got a few more people to show up. Orders will come through when everyone is here."

"Thank you Sir."

I really had too much shit to carry by myself. I threw my personal bag on the ground first and took all of my weapons and tactical gear first. Smith didn't make a move to get out and help me. Not that I expected him to. He watched me very carefully as I made my first trip with all my weapons. As soon as I got to the door, he peeled away from the kerb. While he wasn't friendly, that could have been much worse. I opened the door and the noise from inside came to a complete stop at the sight of me in the doorway. There were already 5 guys here, all in fatigues. The room had a row of beds and a few chairs scattered around. Nothing else.

"Are you lost?" The nearest guy asked me with an arched eyebrow.

"Unless Colonel Smith dropped me off here as a joke, no I think I'm good." I walked over to the closest bed and dropped my AWSM case on it. The silence in the room was unnerving. I could feel the 5 of them watching my every movement as I carefully placed the rest of my gear on the bed. 5 sets of eyes followed me as I went back outside to get my bag and back in the room again.

"Agent Lyngley." I dropped my bag on my bed, turning to face the guys in the room before things got really awkward. "STRIKE Team Delta."

"Oh." One of the guys sitting the furtherest away from me snapped his fingers. "That's where I know you from. I was in Bagram when Stark went missing as well."

All of a sudden the mood in the room shifted from suspicious to friendly.

"Lance Corporal Glover." The guy who asked me if I was lost got up first and offered his hand."MARSOC."

MARSOC was Marine Special Operations Command. These guys were as tough as they come, just as well trained as the more well known special forces. I took his hand with a smile and a firm handshake. This might not be so bad after all.

"Staff Sergeant Houston," the next guy introduced himself, reaching over the table to offer his hand to me. "Air Force Combat Controller."

I was with some impressive company already. Combat Controllers were the special operations of the Air Force.

"Nails," the third guy remained seated, lounging back in his chair looking like he didn't have a care in the world. "1st Airborne."

The company just got even more impressive. This guy was a Green Beret. I didn't have time to be impressed, the other two guys introduced themselves.

"Corporal Clay. ANGLICO."

The Air Naval Gunfire Liaison Company was a group Riley often spoke highly of. They were always in the shadows of SEAL's, but their groups were seriously deadly with any kind of fire power.

"Nizzo," the final guy reached over to shake my hand as well. "SEAL."

"Colour or number?" I asked automatically as I shook his hand. A question I'd picked up off Riley. He would have been so proud of me being here right now. Maybe even a little jealous. He'd done this exercise the year before I'd joined SHIELD according to Clint.

"Number," Nizzo gave me a small laugh. "You know only SEAL's usually ask that question."

"There is no shortage of ex spec ops in STRIKE," I skirted around the real explanation. "Trust me, there's plenty of dick waving about who's better."

That made everyone in the room laugh. I relaxed a little more, pulling up a spare chair to the table. That could have gone a lot worse. Sometimes the reputation that followed STRIKE Team Delta was an advantage. We were legends, even to these kinds of guys. I might be intimidated as fuck by the company I was surrounded with, but Clint and Coulson wouldn't have let me come if they didn't think I could handle it.

"We were just talking about what our units have been doing the last few months," Glover explained as we all settled around the table. "So, is STRIKE Team Delta too classified to talk about?"

"Two thirds of our team, which includes me, have been on medical leave since November, so, unfortunately, I have nothing exciting to add," I said with a wry smile. "Sorry. I know people expect explosions and thrilling espionage stories when they hear about us but we've been pretty boring these last few months."

"Bummer," Glover said as everyone laughed. He looked genuinely disappointed too. "What happened?"

"Broke my jaw and a few ribs on a mission." I lounged back in my chair. "Perfect timing to have my jaw wired together for Thanksgiving."

My sarcastic remark got some more chuckles from the guys.

"Was that a mission near Odessa?" Nizzo looked a lot more curious than the other guys. I expected the attention to switch to someone else after my boring answer. Everyone instantly turned back to me.

"Yep," I confirmed. While I had no idea about everyone's clearance levels, gossip ran through each service pretty well. People would know some of the bare details of what happened. Or the wild stories that seemed to come from those bare details.

"I heard some wild rumours about that mission." Nizzo didn't bother to cover his curiosity. Now everyone was looking at me.

"I smashed my face into the dashboard of the car." I stretched the truth again. "I don't really remember anything."

It felt like I was beginning to sound like Clint talking my way around things. Technically I wasn't lying. My face had taken a beating, but it wasn't by the car. If I ever saw our ghost assassin again, I wasn't going to repay the favour of breaking his jaw before I shot him.

The door opening made everyone look up, taking the attention off me. A guy in civilian clothes walked in with a bag slung over his shoulder. The rest of the guys all looked older than me, but this guy barely looked like he was old enough to shave.

"Hi," the newcomer said, not looking perturbed about 6 people staring at him. "I'm Agent Carson, Special Activities Division."

Ugh. Why did I end up on the team who got the CIA guy? I'd met a handful of agents in SAD while in Bagram and all of them were arrogant assholes. They had an even worse reputation than STRIKE for it. The guys all did their introductions again and when it came to me, Carson was giving me a strange look.

"Agent Lyngley, STRIKE Team Delta."

"I've worked with your brother? I think it was." Carson's face lit up in recognition as we shook hands.

"Tall, blonde and as arrogant as they come?" I asked. Not that it really narrowed it down with Lyngley's in SHIELD. Most of us were tall and blonde. The arrogant part was all Jared though. When Carson nodded in confirmation I added. "My twin is a Specialist."

"So do you have powers too?" Carson put his bag on the floor and sat in the spare chair closest to him. If I thought the attention on me the Rizzo was asking about Odessa was bad, now you could hear a pin drop in the room as everyone stared at me.

"Yes." I forced myself not to squirm under the stare of the room. "Before you ask, no I don't teleport. I'm not that cool."

My comment made everyone to laugh again. It didn't help how uncomfortable I felt about being asked so openly. Not even Bravo team ever openly asked me to do stuff with my powers. Having a complete stranger bring it up in a room of people I didn't know felt very weird.

"That would have come in handy," Clay piped up. "What can you do?"

"It's a surprise." I darted around the question, yet again. "Well, maybe. If it comes in handy I might show off."

It didn't take a genius to work out I was being evasive because I wasn't happy with this line of questioning. Nails took the initiative to change to topic.

"So you look like you're about 15." Nails put the spotlight on Carson. "I didn't think the CIA recruited high schoolers. Especially not SAD."

The wink Nails sent me was so quick I nearly missed it. I hid my smile behind my hand at the gentle dig at Carson. It seemed like I had an ally. Not that Carson seemed like he was being rude on purpose, just curious.

"I'm 29 actually." Carson didn't seem to mind. He looked too excited at the company he was in to notice the jab at his baby face. "I was ISA. HUMINT and then I went to the CIA."

Intelligence Support Activity was a top secret Army intelligence unit. HUMNIT was the human intelligence side of the unit. They were very similar to Specialists. Carson probably had the highest clearance level out of all of us. I wasn't the only one who looked impressed at Carson's credentials. Looks could certainly be deceiving. I didn't doubt under that carefree and excited expression, this guy was studying every single one of us. He'd be exactly like Natasha and be looking for people's weakness and strengths. Out of all of us, he was going to be the one to watch. I don't know why, but I had a feeling that I couldn't trust him. There was something off about the smiling guy in front of me.

"How many more people do we have coming?" Carson asked as he sat back in his chair.

"No idea," Glover said with a shrug. "You know as much as the rest of us. "We were all comparing cock sizes and then Lyngley walked in."

"Please, don't let me stop you," I spoke up before anyone else could get in with a smart ass comment. "I'll grab some tweezers if it helps."

The light mood of the room from before came back as everyone laughed. Small cock jokes always worked in this kind of company. From there the conversation went into a lively banter, mostly the guys hanging insults on each other. It was fun to sit back and listen to it. It wasn't unlike listening to the STRIKE guys having stupid conversations in the locker room. It made the next few hours pass by without being stiflingly boring. 2 more guys joined us in those hours.

Private First Class Egan from FAST. The Army's Fleet Antiterrorism Security Teams. FAST tended to get a bum rap from a lot of special operations guys, considering they were only Infantry members. But they had a very special skill set. Egan had biceps the size of my head, so I doubted anyone was going to talk shit about his unit from our group.

The last guy was Moritz. He was from the LAPD SWAT. It was a big mix of services and specialities. Putting a group of highly trained individuals together was either going to be a deadly combination or a time bomb. We'd only find out when the pressure was on.

Moritz had only introduced himself and barely got his ass in the chair before the door opened again. This time it was Colonel Smith walking in, carrying a box.

"You all have 5 minutes to turn off cells, computers and any personal devices. They all go on this box," Smith's voice left no room for arguments. As he got to the table, the box he was carrying got dropped on the table. I wasn't the only one to jump when it landed with a louder than expected thump. "Your mission briefing and maps are in here. Get to it."

No one needed to be told twice. Houston grabbed the box and pulled out the contents while the rest of us went for our personal gear. My cell was already off. I had already let everyone know I was going dark for a few days before I went to the armoury. Some of the guys were still frantically typing out text messages or emails by the time I put my phone in the box. I grabbed the first mission briefing folder I could get my hands on and went back to my chair.

I flicked the folder open and scanned the contents of the first page. A smile crept onto my face as the first few words jumped out at me.

Our team was the attacking squad. This was going to be awesome fun.

Smith left without another word as everyone settled back down in their chairs to read the mission brief. The only sound in the room was the occasional page turning. I was the first one to finish reading the brief, so I went through it again to make sure I didn't miss anything. The actual mission parameters were very simple. Storm the compound and clear the buildings. The team with the most people standing at the end would be victorious.

But on the second read through, I started to find problems. We didn't know how many people were on the other team. The only pictures we had of the compound we were attacking was a satellite image that didn't give any great detail. It looked like an old fashioned castle from above. The outside wall had a walkway around it and the middle of the compound looked like a maze of small rooms connected to each other. The terrain around it was mostly cleared for at least a mile in every direction before turning into lightly treed forest. It was going to be hell sneaking up on it.

"Suggestions?"

It was Nails speaking up. I was glad someone decided to take the initiative first and get the ball rolling on these plans. According to the mission briefing, we had 4 hours until we were flying to god knows where. It would be 10 hours of flying and another 3 hours drive to drop us off at our rendezvous point. It might sound like a lot of time to plan, but it really wasn't.

"Do we have a terrain map?" I asked when no one else put in any suggestions. "Because judging by the satellite photos, it looks like it's going to be hell to sneak up on."

There were murmurs of agreement as Nails dug through the pile of maps on the table. He found the requested map and spread it out for everyone to see. I got up out of my seat so I could get a better look.

While it was still well cleared around the compound, the actual terrain was hilly. The compound was situated in a small gully, so at least when we got there it'd be easy to get eyes down into it. Our biggest problem was going to be the compound and surrounds were a sniper's wet dream. There was a perfect line of sight all the way around, despite the hilly terrain. Anyone trying to get down there would be picked off very quickly. I didn't doubt the marksman on the other team was going to be anything less than brilliant.

"What's the weather report for where we're going?" Nizzo asked while I studied the map.

There were more pages being shuffled around before Clay had the answer.

"Snow and fuck loads of it. How fun." The sarcasm was heavy in his voice. The mention of snow made all of us groan. Not only were we going to be cold, it was going to make things harder sneaking up because you'd see footprints. Shooting paintballs in freezing temperatures was going to take some adjusting for accuracy as well. The extra weight of frozen paint could be problematic, especially if it decided to start melting unevenly. The only good thing about snow is that it could be easy to camouflage yourself.

"If we come up through this little stream we'll be able to hide our footprints…"

I tuned out as I grabbed the ruler, compass and one of the pens that had been left with the maps. My calculations weren't going to be perfect but I could at least calculate where the sniper was going to be. I was so grateful for the Air Force drilling map reading skills into us pilots, despite it nearly being obsolete now with our technology. As I drew lines of sight and firing positions, the picture became a little clearer where we might be able to come from. I was focusing so hard on the map, I didn't hear realise I was being spoken to until someone tapped me on the shoulder.

"I'm kind of busy right now." I didn't bother to look up. The room fell silent as I finished the last few lines. I tilted my head, squinting at the lines I'd just drawn. Without knowing the perfect layout of the compound, some of it was guesswork. But I'd found our way in. "That's where we go in."

I really hoped this map was up to date. The line I pointed to would need to use every single tree on the way for cover. If they'd been cut down, my plan would go to shit. But there was a small opening if we came in from the west. There was enough cover to hide 2 or 3 people. If whoever was defending was smart, they'd have someone on that section of the wall. But there as a decent enough line that nearly anyone could get a decent shot off. It was a big gamble though. I was only going off what I would do if I was the sniper defending the compound.

Everyone either nodded or said their agreement about my line where to go in. Inwardly, I sighed in relief. All these guys were far more experienced than I was, I'm glad I got it right and no one was disagreeing with me.

"So, we can get to the wall but how do we get in?" Nizzo pointed out the next obvious problem. "That wall looks 20 foot tall with no way of climbing it. Even if we take out the sniper and whoever is up on the wall, we can't just breach the front door. It's a maze in there. They'll have NVG and all the same gear we're packing. They also have the advantage of knowing the hiding spots."

Nizzo wasn't wrong there. If it was me, I'd take a rope, go invisible to climb up it and make sure the outer wall was clear before letting the rest of the team climb up. Then you could storm the inner rooms from all angles. The team defending would be expecting a breach of the front door. But they wouldn't expect someone to come in from the wall and attack from all sides. Fuck, this whole thing would probably be easier if I simply went invisible, went in by myself and took everyone out. But the lone gunslinger thing was frowned upon, we had to play as a team.

"Lyngley, do you have something we can use to our advantage?" Carson asked. He'd been quiet during the part of the exchange I'd been listening to.

"Yeah, I could get in there and take everyone out without them knowing what hit them," I said with far more confidence that I was feeling. I didn't miss the eye roll coming from Houston and Clay at my cocky statement. "But my handler told me to play nice and not make the grown men cry."

"And?" Nails asked, politely covering his own snigger of amusement. At least someone thought it was funny. He, Nizzo and Egan seemed to be the only ones amused by it. The other guys were either looking confused or not impressed by my ego at all.

"I can get the wall clear. If it was me, I'd have guys here." I quickly switched my ego off, pointing to the compound. I had no place in getting cocky here. If my plan was good enough, they might not ask too many questions. "Here and here. Then we can come from all angles and do a surprise attack."

"How are you going to get up there without being seen?" Nails saw straight through my attempt to distract them from the topic I was avoiding. "Come on Lyngley, no bullshit here."

Carson was watching me very intently. I bit back my sigh of frustration. He was about to get his question from before answered whether I liked it or not. There was no hiding it now, I may as well spit it out.

"I can go invisible." I had to force the words out, trying not to show how uncomfortable I really was. "So, I can get up there and clear the wall. No one will know what hit them."

The silence that followed me was near deafening. People always had mixed reactions when they realised you were Enhanced. Some people thought it was cool while other people treated you like you were contagious with a deadly disease. This could be the start of the entire team avoiding me for the next few days.

"That is way cooler than being able to teleport." To my surprise, it was Carson who broke the silence with a small laugh. "We are going to kick ass."

In an instant, the serious mood was gone. It was such a relief to have all the suspicion fall away and the rest of the team look happy to have me there. I felt a smile come back to my face. Carson was right, we were going to kick some serious ass.

Authors Note

I decided to break this one up so it didn't turn into a monster chapter and take another 2 weeks to come out. So yay for a quick update?

Thanks for the well wishes everyone. I really appreciate them. Also thanks for sticking with me throughout the sporadic updates. I know as a reader it frustrates me, so having people consistently sticking with me is really appreciated. Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers, whether you're new or old I love getting them. There will definitely be another update before Christmas! Thats about as much as I can promise, but I am trying to get into a routine for writing again.

Until next time.