AUTHOR'S NOTES: A bit of a talky chapter here, but as usual, it's necessary to set up the next part of the story.

Note that at this point, the story does deviate some from canon RWBY. One, it's kind of necessary to do so, considering certain characters being different (namely Penny) and two, this would be a boring story if it completely followed canon, wouldn't it? (As Jaune could attest to, poor guy...)

7th Army Headquarters (Forward Headquarters, SACEUR)

Poznan, Republic of Poland

19 August 2001

"Captain Ruby Rose, reporting as ordered, sir." Ruby came to attention in front of Ironwood's plotting table. Despite its impressive sounding name, the headquarters of American ground forces in Central Europe was a series of tents deep in a forest north of Poznan, built so that it could be broken down and moved in a hurry. Ruby had to go through three layers of security to get to Ironwood's headquarters tent. She glanced aside at Clover Ebi, who gave her a nod. The other man in the tent she didn't recognize; he was a civilian by the way he was dressed.

"Good morning, Ruby," Ironwood returned, straightening up. She noticed he was dressed in Battle Dress Uniform, complete with pistols on both hips—ivory handled .38s, she noted in passing. He motioned to the civilian. "This is Inspector Julian Filipowicz of the Poznan Police Department." She shook hands with Filipowicz, who wasn't much taller than she was, and probably could use some time on the treadmill. "Hello," he greeted her, with no hint of an accent. Her surprise must've shown on her face, because the inspector laughed. "Grew up in Chicago."

"The inspector is the lead investigator on the massacre last night at the Robyn Hill rally," Ironwood explained. "He asked for you to identify something."

Filipowicz reached behind his chair and pulled out something wrapped in clear plastic. Ruby instantly recognized it. "That's a Moisin-Nagant," she blurted.

"Good eye," the policeman said. "Is there anything else you recognize about it?" He handed the rifle to her. Ruby examined it as expertly as she could through the plastic—she was familiar enough with rifles, and she knew the Moisin from using one at Darvaza. It took a few moments for her to realize that it was the one she had used at Darvaza, and she nearly dropped the rifle in shock. The inspector nodded. "It seems you two know each other."

"I…I used this a few weeks ago at a place in Turkmenistan," Ruby said. "We stopped there for fuel and spent the night, and the locals attacked us, and they were sort of cannibals, and…" She shook her head in confusion. "I don't get it. How the heck is it here in Poland?"

Filipowicz nodded again. "That jibes with what the general here told me before you arrived, Captain. You see, we found fingerprints on the rifle when we recovered it last night, ran it through our database, and found nothing. But then we ran it through an international database, and your name came up." Ruby wondered how her fingerprints would be in an international crime database; the only crime she had ever committed was shoplifting a comic book when she was ten, and even that was accidental. Then she remembered: she and the rest of the pilots had been fingerprinted the day after they had arrived in Europe, after the mission to Belchanow. Her eyes got wide, and Filipowicz laughed. "Not to worry, Captain; you're not a suspect. I have several eyewitnesses placing you not only in the square, but actively returning fire against the sniper. However, we didn't get a statement from you."

Ruby swallowed. She might not be arrested for murder, but fleeing a crime scene might be a different story. "Um…well…in all the confusion, we sort of panicked after the firing stopped, and ran off…I meant to come down to the station, but…"

Filipowicz only laughed again. "No, you didn't, Captain. A woman who quite calmly picks up a submachinegun and returns fire against a keen-eyed sniper, much less one who has apparently been a sniper herself and a decorated fighter pilot, doesn't panic. You ran because you were afraid you'd be arrested." He shrugged. "Don't worry, Captain; I'll let it slide—if you come down to the station in the next 24 hours to fill out a proper statement."

"Consider that an order, Captain," Ironwood warned.

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir."

Filipowicz took back the rifle and sat down. "For now, what can you tell me about the sniper?"

"Not much, sir," Ruby admitted. "With the lights and all, I couldn't tell. I only saw him…or her, I suppose…really briefly when they stood up and ran. It looked like they had a tail." She made a C in the air with her finger. "It looked like that. Like a squirrel? Except it wasn't bushy. It was really thin, I think."

"Like a scorpion?" Filipowicz asked.

Ruby thought for a minute. "Yeah—er, yes, sir, just like that, now that you mention it."

Filipowicz sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I was afraid of that. Thank you, Captain; you've helped us identify—or possibly identify—our sniper."

"Who?" Ruby asked, before it occurred to her that the policeman probably couldn't tell her.

"Tyrian Callows," Clover told her. Ruby was not a good poker player; for the second time in the space of five minutes, her look of shock was obvious.

"You know him?" Filipowicz was almost as surprised.

"Yes, I sure as hell do!" Ruby exclaimed, forgetting the sir. "He tried to kill me over Sakhalin Island a few months ago!" She almost amended that—Tyrian had bragged about wanting her alive—but the inspector really didn't need to know that detail. She wasn't sure of it herself.

"How's that?" Filipowicz asked.

"He's a fighter pilot," Ruby replied. "A pretty damn good one, too! He came close to getting me, my uncle, and a few of my friends as well."

Filipowicz reached into a pocket of his pants. "That's our man." He handed her a police report. Some of it was redacted, but it was a brief history of Tyrian Callows. He was a former Royal Air Force fighter pilot, but after a crash he barely survived, something had changed in Tyrian. He had been reassigned to RAF Germany after recovery, but people began disappearing near his base at Gutersloh, Germany—and in Berlin, and in Poland. Each one had been cruelly murdered. Finally, in a joint sting operation between the Berlin and Poznan police, as well as Interpol, Tyrian had been captured. That wasn't as disturbing as what happened next, Ruby read:

At 0331 on day of transport, a distress call from the prisoner transport flying Mr. Callows to London from Poznan was received by a NATO E-3 AWACS over the Baltic Sea, near Bornholm. Pilot T. Cornetto reported being engaged by GRIMM, shortly before declaring an emergency and making a crashlanding in Sweden. The aircraft was badly damaged in the crash. Cornetto survived the crash and continued to use the radio, reporting that a helicopter had arrived. Gunshots and screams were heard. Cornetto's last words were "What are you? What are you?" Immediately after this moment, another gunshot was heard, followed by Callows' voice; the suspect was heard to be weeping before stating a single word: "Beautiful." The transmission ended immediately afterwards.

Rescue forces arrived on scene at 0420. No survivors were found. All those members of the crew who had survived the crash were found to have been killed by single gunshots to the head, including Cornetto. Tyrian Callows' body was not found and he is presumed missing. Prior to the attack on the transport, no GRIMM activity had been noticed in the area for months.

She handed the report back to Filipowicz with a shaking hand. The inspector returned it to his pocket. "Someone that we haven't identified targeted that prisoner transport, Captain. They wanted Callows alive. Why, I don't know. The man—well, Faunus—is a serial killer. Nothing more, nothing less. I don't see what use he could possibly have to anyone."

"But someone disagrees," Ironwood put in. "I imagine he just became your number one suspect in the killings in Berlin, Inspector."

"Out of my jurisdiction," Filipowicz said. "But yes, I'll be making a great deal of phone calls to my opposite number in Berlin when I get back to the station."

"How many…how many people did he kill before?" Ruby asked.

"15. That we know of. Callows was very hard to catch: unlike most serial killers, he didn't have a preferred prey. He killed—kills—anyone. Old people, young, women, men—anyone. Most of the time he uses a knife, but as you saw last night, he also doesn't mind using a gun." Filipowicz shrugged. "Again, I don't know why anyone would want him. He's psychotic. He'd be a poor assassin—Callows would get distracted and murder someone on a lark." The inspector looked at the rifle. "And why GRIMM were involved—that makes no sense at all. No one controls the GRIMM."

"Perhaps someone simply took advantage of the GRIMM attack," Clover said.

"It's as good an explanation as any."

Ironwood came around the plotting table, putting out a hand. "Thank you, Inspector. I'm glad we were able to help you, even if it was a little."

Filipowicz knew he was being dismissed. He stood, smiled, and shook hands with all of them. "You've given me a lot, actually. Thank you, Captain. I wish we had met under different circumstances."

"Same here, sir. And I'll definitely get that report to you before the end of the day." Filipowicz smiled, picked up the rifle, and left the tent.

Ironwood waited a few minutes, then motioned Ruby to the inspector's former seat. "You can't put it in your report," he told her, "but it's almost certain that Salem was who recovered Tyrian. It might have even been Salem herself, given the pilot's description." He went back behind the table. "You wouldn't know this, Captain Rose, but Ozpin showed me a picture of Salem when she was a younger woman, and described what she looked like in the late 1970s. For a woman who survived a nuclear war and absorbed a great deal of radiation, apparently she was still quite beautiful. I can't imagine what she looks like today; she'd be pushing sixty. It's possible Tyrian was describing her in the radio transmission." Ironwood leaned on the table. "Then again, he's crazier than a shithouse rat, so who knows?" Ruby nodded dutifully; she knew this probably wasn't the time to bring up that she knew exactly what Salem looked like, before and after.

"It still doesn't explain why Salem wanted a serial killer," Clover said.

"Or why he wanted me alive over Sakhalin," Ruby added. "General, there's no way he could've known I was at that rally last night!"

"I suspect that was merely coincidence. Given what Arashikaze briefed me on what was found in Darvaza, more than likely Tyrian accompanied Salem, recovered the Moisin, and thought it would be hilarious to use a weapon you used to assassinate—" He was interrupted by the ring of one of several phones on a desk near one side of the tent. Ironwood excused himself and answered the phone. "General Ironwood speaking. Yes. She is, huh? No, that's fine. Escort her here." He paused. "Yes, make damn sure she doesn't have any weapons." He hung up and chuckled. "Speak of the devil and she appears. Robyn Hill is at the first checkpoint, mad as hell." He motioned at them. "You'd better leave, both of you. Clover, why don't you and Captain Rose take a walk for a bit? I have a feeling whatever Miss Hill has to say won't be pleasant."

"Would you like me to stay, sir?" Clover asked.

"No, that's all right. I don't think she's quite crazy enough to try and kill me." As Clover showed Ruby to the door of the tent, she noticed Ironwood unholster one of his .38s and put it on the table, within easy reach.

Ruby paused at the door. "Sir?" Ironwood looked up. "Sir, I think she means well."

"We'll see," was all Ironwood said as they left.

Clover took Ruby south of the tent, through the woods to a knoll, which gave them a fair view of the area. The camouflage netting over the headquarters kept it hidden from aerial surveillance, though Ruby could see where a keen-eyed pilot might notice it: the netting was too even, and didn't quite blend in with the trees. It was a warm day, but Ruby still felt a chill. It wasn't that Tyrian Callows was loose, or that he was a serial killer—that wasn't surprising at all—but the memory that he'd boasted about wanting her alive for his queen. Salem wants me alive, Ruby thought. But why? I mean, I guess I've been a pain in her ass, but it still doesn't make any sense. She should want me dead. Suddenly her stomach turned to ice. Oh shit. Mom. Mom was after Salem. Holy God. What if she made it to wherever Salem's base is after all? What if…what if Salem took her alive? Ruby stuffed her hands in her pockets so Clover wouldn't see them trembling. No, that doesn't make sense! Salem had no reason to take Mom alive, and I bet she wouldn't keep Mom prisoner for 17 years. She would've…no, Mom can't be still alive!

Clover interrupted her thoughts. "Ruby, if you don't mind me using your first name…"

"Um, no!" Ruby said quickly, afraid he would notice her shaking. She needed to talk to Yang, but couldn't figure out a way to excuse herself without getting in trouble.

"Ruby, please understand the general. He's under a lot of stress, and it just keeps getting worse."

"Sure," Ruby agreed. Why would Salem want me alive? So she could torture me to death? Sounds about right… She bit her lip, at the mental image of Summer Rose being tortured. She'd read stories of captured pilots in the various brushfire wars fought since the Third World War. Some nations treated pilots according to the Geneva Conventions. Some didn't. Like all fighter pilots in the USAF, she had been required to go to survival school, where she was subjected to mock torture. She'd found the exercise more annoying than threatening, and hadn't really taken it seriously. Ruby often wondered if the school trainers had taken it easy on her because of her childlike appearance; they'd waterboarded Yang. Then again, Yang did take a swing at one of them—

Much to her annoyance, Clover was still speaking. "With Jacques Schnee getting elected, there's no telling what he's going to do. Oh yeah, he'll end the embargo, but he'll get a couple of pounds of flesh from the general before he does." He kicked a rock off the knoll. "And it gets worse than that. Have you talked to Penny today?"

The mention of Penny got Ruby's attention. The clone girl had returned to base with them the night before, but Ironwood had immediately told her to report to him. "No, but I thought I heard her B-1 take off."

"She had to fly over to Wroclaw. It's a bit more isolated; the press isn't going to look for her there. At least not yet."

Ruby looked at him. "Why would the press be looking for Penny?"

Clover gave her a wan smile. "Because she's supposed to be dead." He folded his arms over his broad chest and stared at the clear sky. "The whole world watched Penny Polendina die—you know it better than me, Ruby. You were there. No one blamed Pyrrha, I think; she really didn't have a choice. But Penny is supposed to be very dead."

"But people have seen that B-1!" Ruby protested.

"Sure—and maybe a few media types actually recognize it. There's some reporters who can't tell a F-15 from a B-52. But the USAF has nearly a hundred Bones, Ruby," he said, using the B-1's nickname. "They see a B-1 flying around Poland, they figure it's bombing ground GRIMM or something. Oh, there's probably a few who have made the connection, but they think that Project Paladin has resumed with a new pilot."

"Yeah, but…there's plenty of people at the base who have seen Penny," Ruby told him.

"And they keep their mouth shut, because they know that Project Paladin was top secret, and I would bet a month's pay that none of them think that the cute girl who looks like Penny Polendina is actually her. And none of them even think about clones." Clover shook his head. "But now, last night…people saw her, Ruby. Normally, we wouldn't worry about eyewitnesses—who the hell even knows what people see or think they see in stressful situations—but right before Inspector Filipowicz got here this morning, the general got a call from CNN, asking about Penny. Then Sky News calls, then Fox. Someone's made the connection."

"What did General Ironwood say?"

"He denied it, of course. That might be the end of it. Today's hardly a slow news day. But if the newsies follow up…"

"They're going want to know why Penny's still alive," Ruby finished.

"Worse than that," Clover corrected. "They'll probably accuse Ironwood of a coverup, or that he faked the whole thing with Pyrrha being forced to kill her." Another chuckle. "Makes no sense, but it would be the most logical explanation, that Penny survived that crash somehow and the military hushed it up. It's going to make the general look bad, not to mention our country, at the worst possible time. You just know Jacques is going to run with it, if he finds out." He waved towards the headquarters tent. "And God only knows what Robyn is saying."

"This is your fault," Robyn Hill snarled as she walked into the tent.

Ironwood smiled. "And good morning to you too, Miss Hill."

"Cut the crap!" Robyn stalked up to the table and slammed a fist onto it, apparently not afraid of the pistol or the guards at the front of the tent. "What the hell happened last night, Ironwood?"

"I have a name," Ironwood replied calmly. "And it's General. I'll ask you to use it, or I'm going to have you kicked headfirst out of this headquarters, Miss Hill."

Robyn took a deep breath. "What the hell happened, General?"

"You lost the election." He raised a hand as she went purple with rage. "Look. I would've much preferred you to that ass Jacques Schnee. I may not trust you, Miss Hill, or particularly like you, but there's no denying what you've done here in Poland. I ask that you give me the same courtesy. I had nothing to do with last night's results."

"I disagree," Robyn fumed. "I would've buried Jacques if it hadn't been for the damn embargo. Much less what happened at Beacon!"

Ironwood raised an eyebrow. "I'm fairly certain you said that you supported the United States in both."

"Yes. Not the first mistake I made."

"I would remind you that you were trailing in the polls before the embargo. I would say my deployment of the Reforger divisions and your open support was what allowed you to close the gap." Ironwood watched her reaction. Robyn clearly wanted to rail at him, but she was keeping herself in check, because she knew he was right. He hoped she did, anyway. "Robyn, I'm not your enemy. Don't make me be. You're upset that you lost a close election. I don't blame you. But there's nothing I can do about it."

"You're damn right I'm upset. I think the bastard cheated."

Ironwood almost laughed. Robyn was acting like a child who had lost a game and was now accusing her opponent of not playing by the rules. He was surprised she wasn't stomping her feet. "And why would you think that?"

"Right before someone tried to kill me—which I'm also very curious about, by the way—I was leading. It wasn't much of a lead, mind, but almost all the votes were in. And then when I look around after that damned sniper almost took my head off, Jacques has won." She shook her head, her eyes blazing. "Yes, I'll grant that Jacques could have won with maybe a few hundred votes. Maybe even a few thousand. But forty thousand votes?"

He was about to lecture her on how many close elections he'd experienced in his own lifetime, back in the United States, but the number stopped him. "Jacques Schnee won with forty thousand votes?" Robyn nodded. "With less than five percent of precincts left to report in?"

"In about five minutes," Robyn confirmed.

Ironwood rubbed his beard in thought. It did seem suspicious. "How are the votes tallied?"

"Electronically." Robyn threw her hands in the air. "God Almighty. And again, someone tried to kill me! I'm assuming that you're looking into that, at least!" She started to pace. "And in the middle of all the bloody reporters calling me for a bloody statement about the bloody election, one of them asks me about that Penny girl, and if it's the same one that got killed at Beacon—"

"That is enough!" Ironwood thundered, with such vehemence that Robyn went quiet. "You are not to talk about her, Miss Hill. Not to the press, not to anyone. If you do, the consequences will be severe, for you and the Happy Huntresses!" Ironwood abruptly realized that he was more or less confirming Robyn's suspicion of Penny, but also realized that he didn't care. Robyn Hill, was, quite frankly, pissing him off.

Unfortunately, Robyn was feeling much the same way. "Don't you threaten me, General! My Huntresses have a lot more friends here in Poland than you do!"

"That may be," Ironwood replied hotly, "but your friends don't have a lot of what I do."

"What's that?"

"Jet fuel. Missiles. Ammunition." He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "You've been getting all that from the Polish Air Force, Robyn, but you need to remember that they're part of NATO, which means I command them, not you." He leaned across and put a finger in her face. "Cross me, Robyn, and I swear to God that I will cut off everything. You won't be able to fly around the goddamn block, let alone defend Poland."

She refused to back up. "I can find sources, Ironwood. I have before. I was here a lot longer before your lot."

"Try me, Robyn. Try me." He took a breath himself, trying to get his temper under control. "Now the police are looking into the assassination, as am I, with as much authority as I can muster. We can't interfere in internal politics, as you are aware of." She snorted at that. "As for the election…you may wish to see if the vote was hacked, somehow. I agree that something doesn't seem right."

Robyn was silent for a moment, then her eyes narrowed. "General Ironwood, have you ever played baccarat?"

The out-of-nowhere question took him aback. "I can't say as I have. Chess is more my game. Why?"

"I'm rather good at it. In fact, I financed my first purchase of aircraft through winnings at Monte Carlo." Their eyes met. "I'm also rather good at knowing when my opponent is bluffing, when they're lying and sitting on a bad hand. Right now, General Ironwood, you are lying. There's something you know that you're not telling me. Not about this Penny girl—she saved my life, and whatever secret she has is safe with me. No, there's something else."

Ironwood nearly told her what he was thinking: Arthur Watts. After Beacon had been destroyed, as part of the board of inquiry, the USAF had looked into the so-called Black Queen virus. Ironwood had gotten a copy of the report that named Watts as a suspect. He had disappeared around the same time Tyrian Callows had. If Watts could develop a virus that could infect military computers, and he was one of the few people that could, hacking voting machines would be child's play. He stopped himself: Robyn would want to know who Arthur Watts was, and that would lead to questions about who he was working for. "I can't tell you," he finally said.

"You mean you won't. And you wonder why I don't trust you."

Ironwood put his hands behind his back. "I don't trust you much either, Miss Hill. You and your Huntresses roam around Poland and we're lucky if you even bother informing us what you're doing. Then you come in here and start screaming at me over an election I had nothing to do with." He fixed her with a hard stare. "Like I said, I'm not your enemy. But I swear that if you don't cooperate with me, I will cut you off at the knees. Am I clear?"

"I'm not one of your pilots, Ironwood. I do what I want," Robyn snapped.

"And you will do it alone."

"Fine." Robyn pushed off the table. "You stay out of my way, Ironwood, and I'll stay out of yours. But threaten me and mine, and we'll find out whose knees get cut off." Before he could respond, she turned on one heel and stalked out of the tent.

Poznan-Krezesiny Airbase

Poznan, Republic of Poland

19 August 2001

Yang looked up from her Big Mac. "Hey, Rubes!" Ruby half-staggered into Ruby Flight's shared room. "Hey, we got you some food." She held up a bag. "Chicken McNuggets. Turns out there's a Mickey Ds here."

"Thanks, sis." Ruby went over and lay down on her bunk. "I'm not hungry."

Weiss, who was halfway through her own burger, stared at her flight leader. "I do believe that's the first time I've ever heard her say those words." She got up, went over, and put a hand on Ruby's forehead. "Are you sick?"

"No!" Ruby pushed her hand away. "I'm fine, okay? Geez!" At the hurt look on Weiss' face, Ruby sighed. "Sorry, Weiss. Just…got a lot on my mind."

"I'll say," Blake said, finishing her fish filet. Ruby Rose's metabolism was almost as famous as her eyesight. It never ceased to amaze the others that Ruby could seemingly eat her own weight in junk food over the course of a day, and yet never gained weight. "What's wrong?"

"I was down at the local cop shop all day," Ruby explained. "Had to go there after I met with Ironwood and Clover. They identified the sniper." At their questioning expressions, she said, "You guys remember when I told you about that Tyrian Callows guy? The one that jumped me and Uncle Qrow and Pyrrha and Nora and Ren over by Sakhalin? Yeah. It's that asshole."

"Shit," Yang breathed. "He was working for Mommy Salami, wasn't he?"

"Who?" Weiss looked confused.

"Salem," Blake told her. "I guess that makes sense, though. Salem probably would want Robyn Hill dead. It would cause all sorts of problems, probably more riots. Divide and conquer."

"Yeah, and get this. Remember that Moisin-Nagant I used at Darvaza? Guess what the murder weapon was. He must've grabbed it when Salem went there." Ruby punched the bunk's mattress. "He probably got off on using a gun I used, after I damn near blew his ass off." She punched the mattress a second time. "Should've killed the bastard."

Yang shook her head. "I bet he's the motherfucker who's been killing those people in Berlin, too." She tossed the bag at Ruby. "C'mon, sis. You need to eat."

Ruby sat up as her stomach growled; it was hard to argue with that, especially when all she'd had was a bowl of cereal that morning. As she grabbed a handful of fries, she knew she needed to talk to Yang about their mother. She hesitated, wondering if she should talk to her sister alone. No, Ruby decided, these girls are my family too.

She put the fries down and was about to say something when the phone rang. Weiss leaned over and picked it up. "Ruby Flight, Hauptmann Schnee." Her eyes rounded. "What? When?" She was quiet for a moment. "Yes, sir, on our way!" She slammed down the phone. "We're scrambling!"

Yang's mouth had just closed around another hunk of Big Mac. She spit it out. "What? Now? There's no alarm!"

"Just us and Norn!" Weiss shouted, pulling off her shirt as she grabbed her flight suit. Blake jumped up and began getting her clothes off to change as well.

"What happened?" Ruby stuffed the fries back into the bag, after one last longing look.

"The Happy Huntresses just shot down a C-141 over the Baltic," Weiss replied. "We're going after them."