AUTHOR'S NOTES: Again, a fairly "talky" chapter, but this gives us Cinder's backstory in this AU, along with some of Emerald's. And let's not forget the plans both sides are making for the next round...

More notes at the end.

The Palace of Culture and Science

Ruins of Warsaw, Republic of Poland

3 September 2001

Cinder Fall was used to waking up and forgetting that she only had one functional eye—she would wake up and try to open her left eye, only for the pain to hit and make her remember that the empty socket was sewn shut; the eye that had been there had liquified under the flames that had ruined half her face. She was not used to waking up being unable to see at all.

Cinder began to scream incoherently. Then she felt gentle hands pushing her back down onto the soft bed. "Where am I?" Cinder cried. "Who are you?"

"It's Emerald, Cinder." The voice was familiar, warm. "It's going to be all right."

"It's not!" Cinder screamed. "I'm blind!"

"You're not—not permanently." Cinder felt something pulled away from her eye. "The room's dim so your eye isn't hurt." She blinked. She could barely make out Emerald's face, her russet eyes and that strange green-dyed hair of hers. The former thief leaned closer. "Can you see me now?"

"Y-Yes," Cinder said shakily. "What do you mean…not permanently?"

"You were flash blinded," Emerald explained. "By that laser of Penny Polendina's. The doctors said that your sight should come all the way back by tomorrow."

"How…how did I land my plane?"

Emerald sighed. "You didn't. I guided you back over the Vistula and ground control advised you eject. So you did. But you landed hard in a forest and got a mild concussion. It's probably why you don't remember all of it yet." Cinder closed her eye and tried to think. She could remember getting blinded by the laser, and a brief part of the flight, but that was all. "Do you know where you are?" Emerald asked gently.

"I'm…I assume I'm at the Palace of Culture and Science," Cinder answered, opening her eye again.

"Yeah, you are. And you remember me, yes?"

"Of course."

"Well, that's good. No skull fracture or anything."

Cinder looked at the ceiling—or where she assumed the ceiling was in the fuzzy darkness. "We failed."

"Um…partially." Emerald tried to put the situation in the best light. "I mean, you lost your Gripen, but both the B-1 and the Gulfstream were splashed. We don't know if Penny survived, or why the Gulfstream was up there—I think it was some VIP getting escorted to Sweden or something. Neo got shot down, but she got picked up by our people. She's back here, wet and pissed off."

"Unless Polendina's dead, we failed." She pushed Emerald's hands away. "Leave me alone."

"I was just trying to help—"

"She's had enough help." Cinder recognized the voice as Mercury Black's, although she could only make out a shadow. "Besides, she disobeyed Salem's orders. I'd be damn careful who you back, Emerald."

"But Cinder was right! We were able to shoot down Penny—"

"Would you stop trying to protect her already?" Mercury exclaimed. "She doesn't care about you, Emerald! She never has!"

Cinder sat up, fending off Emerald's attempts to hold her down. "Get out, both of you. I'll let you know when you're needed next." She shoved Emerald. "I said, get out!"

"Yeaaah, about that." She could hear the smirk in Mercury's voice, and wished she'd shot him that day at Beacon, after he'd murdered Ruth Lionheart. "Salem's got other plans for me. I'm not taking orders from you anymore." He turned and left with a snort of derision.

"Cinder—" Emerald began.

"Get out, goddammit!" Cinder shouted, and the other woman retreated, leaving Cinder in a dark room, filled with darker thoughts.

Emerald sat on the steps of the Palace's ruins, looking out over the blasted, charred remains of Warsaw and the gently burbling, poisonous Vistula River. It was in the middle of the night, and there were no lights, of course—though Emerald thought she could see some distant campfires, the areas where scavengers still lived among the ruins. She'd seen such ruins before, across Europe, and the decaying remains of Disneyland in California, where Raven Branwen had met them before the Haven operation. It always filled Emerald with a sense of sadness. She'd grown up on the streets of Madrid, alone, shoplifting to survive at first, then becoming a pickpocket, then going for even bigger scores. Sometimes she'd killed, if someone had tried to take what was hers or to save her own life. Other times she'd used her body, if she thought it would get her what she needed at the time, or allow her to keep surviving. It had been a hard life, and Emerald Sustrai never wanted to go back to it. But she was still saddened by the sight of burned cities.

"Good evening, Emerald."

The former thief whirled, her hand going instinctively to the knife sheath on her wrist, ready to throw. She relaxed—partially—because it was Salem. Only partially because Salem didn't seem real, her black cloak blending into the darkness, leaving only the alabaster skin and gray hair, and those terrifying red eyes. "Oh. Uh, good evening, Mistress Salem."

Salem walked down the stairs, gathered her cloak beneath herself, and sat down next to her. She stared up at the sky, where the Milky Way slashed across the night. With no lights, the stars were so much more brighter. "Is there something the matter?"

"No, Mistress Salem."

Salem laughed softly. "Emerald, please. One does not go out into a ruined, mildly radioactive city to enjoy the sights, especially at night."

"No, Mistress Salem." Emerald rested her head on her drawn-up knees. "You're going to punish me, aren't you."

"I may. You, Neo and Cinder took off and went after Polendina against my orders. Granted, you were attempting to act in my best interests, so that does mitigate the circumstances, but you and especially Cinder have broken my trust—and armies run on trust, Emerald. Without trust there is anarchy." Another soft laugh. "Neo Politan never had my trust, so she did not break it—though she did lose an aircraft, which I do not have an infinite amount of, especially with the Darvaza source now lost to me. But I will deal with her at a later date." She was quiet for awhile. "I do not blame you for following Cinder, Emerald. I suspect you would follow her anywhere."

Emerald chuckled ruefully. "More fool me."

"Why is that?" Salem asked, with what sounded like genuine curiosity. "I picked Cinder for her leadership position because she is the strongest, most ruthless, and ambitious of my…faction, if you like. Mercury follows her out of fear. Watts follows her because he thinks it will get him what he wants. Tyrian and Hazel follow her because I desire it. But you…" Salem faced her, putting her head on her hands at well. It made her look much younger, oddly enough. "Why do you follow Cinder Fall?"

It was Emerald's turn to be quiet for awhile, but Salem waited patiently. "She lifted me out of the dirt," the former thief finally said. "She found me. I was on the run in Madrid, at the airport—I practically lived at that airport then—and it wasn't a question of if the Mafia or Interpol would find me, but when. And I was looking at life in prison or a one-way trip to the bottom of the Mediterranean. So when someone offers you life, freedom, and a chance to fly, you take it."

"A chance to fly?"

"You know," Emerald said, lost in her memories to the point that she forgot the mistress. "You were the one who told her to teach me. Living at that airport, or by it, all my life…I love airplanes. I always thought that I could just be free of all the shit in the world if I could just get into the sky." She gave a small shake of the head. "And I am free of it, though I always have to come back to it."

"I merely suggested Cinder teach you to fly," Salem corrected. "I did not order it. I'd heard of your thieving skills from a contact in the Madrid underground, and wanted you here. But it has made you far more than a common thief. But I suspect there is more there than just gratitude to Cinder."

"There is," Emerald admitted. "I just wish I knew what it was."

"Do you love her?"

Emerald smiled. "You mean, do I want to sleep with her?" She shrugged. "I don't know, Mistress Salem. I am bisexual, though I don't think Cinder is. But…she's also kind of almost a…mother figure to me. It's strange. My parents died when I was very young, so—"

"—so you've been looking for a surrogate mother ever since." Salem straightened up. "Not surprising. I think Cinder has something of the same problem." She looked at Emerald. "Do you want to know Cinder's story?"

"Um…sure?" Emerald wasn't sure she had a choice in the matter, and abruptly realized she had been opening up, telling some of her deepest secrets, to Salem herself. It seemed natural to do so: she was depressed, upset without quite knowing why, and the older woman was willing to listen. Emerald didn't realize that that catching her when she was vulnerable might have been Salem's intention.

Salem stared up at the stars. "One terrible aspect of the Third World War and its aftermath is the people it has orphaned," she said at length. "Cinder Fall was one of those people. She's an American, as you may know; her family died when she was very young. She was adopted by a wealthy family.

"But sadly for young Cinder, the family didn't see her as a member of the family. They saw her as little more than a slave. She was abused, made to work constantly, and given only enough food to survive. She stole food, as you did, from the hotel her family owned. Unlike you, Cinder was frequently caught…and when she was caught, she was savagely beaten." Salem's eyebrows narrowed, and her pale lips peeled back from her teeth in hate. "Oh, her stepmother was careful not to do permanent damage, but she seemed to take particular glee in it. She would make Cinder strip naked, and bend her over a table, then beat her with a leather belt, or a cane."

Emerald felt sick. "Was she…"

"Sexually abused? That is a question I have never asked, and never care to. For anyone to do that to a child…" Emerald realized that Salem was genuinely angry. "In any case, Cinder did manage to make one friend. A Huntsman—a fighter pilot in the United States Air Force. I do not recall his name, but…this man treated Cinder like a human being. I do not know how he befriended her, but he did. He was even able to get Cinder away from the hotel for afternoons—I suspect the stepmother, being the evil bitch that she was, suspected the Huntsman was 'using' Cinder; he was certainly paying the woman for Cinder's company." Salem smiled. "But he wasn't doing anything of the sort. In fact, he was teaching her to fly. He would take her on flights in a light plane, and eventually would let Cinder fly it herself. She was a prodigy. It gave her the ability to dream, to be free in the skies. Much like yourself."

Emerald was fascinated. No wonder she and Cinder had felt like kindred spirits. "So the Huntsman helped her escape?"

"Not quite," Salem said. "He promised to help her leave once she reached the age of seventeen and could legally do so. But the stepmother had other ideas. She didn't want to give up her unofficial slave. She forbade Cinder from ever seeing the Huntsman again. And Cinder…well, she snapped. According to the Huntsman, he came to the hotel late one night to find Cinder covered in blood. She had murdered her stepmother. He got her out of there before the police arrived. Unfortunately, Cinder and the Huntsman parted ways, and Cinder made her way to me. I saw her potential, and…well, you know the rest."

Emerald leaned back against the steps. "I…I never knew."

"No, I suspect not. Cinder does not tell that story to anyone…but as someone who wants to be her best friend, you should know, Emerald. So you can understand." Salem put a cool hand on her shoulder. "Cinder has never had a chance to form genuine friendships, Emerald, so she doesn't know how to react to one. And naturally, her disfigurement has not helped much. But, even when she pushes you away, realize why she does so." She sighed. "As Nietzsche said, it is a struggle not to become a monster when you deal with monsters."

Emerald wasn't sure who Nietzsche was. "I will keep this a secret, Mistress Salem."

"Good. Cinder will appreciate that. I will still need to punish her for this latest failure, but rest assured, Emerald—stripping the poor woman naked and beating her will not be something I will do. I would do that to no one." She gave Emerald's shoulder a friendly squeeze. "Now I need a small favor. Please find Hazel, and Mercury, and tell them to meet me in the command post in thirty minutes. It's time we moved on to the next phase of my plan. Tell Hazel to bring Oscar Pine."

"Of course. Right away, ma'am." Emerald stood, gave a sort of half-bow to the elder woman, and almost skipped back into the Palace.

Salem was alone, which did not happen often. She leaned back against the steps and stared at the stars. "Ah, Ozpin," she mused quietly. "Women are as easily led as men. It's a lesson I wonder if you ever learned." Her smile faded. "Then again, given how quickly you fathered a child, perhaps you did know that lesson. Perhaps you even used it on me." Salem put those thoughts away; they no longer mattered. It was one reason why she had been getting angry at the stepmother's abuse of Cinder: having watched her own newborn die, she could not comprehend someone purposely hurting their child.

Of course, she had not told Emerald the whole truth. Most of Cinder's tale was true—the abuse, the near-slavery, the killing of the stepmother—but there was more to it. Cinder had not only murdered her stepmother, but her stepsisters as well. True, the stepsisters had abused her too, but Salem had left that out, along with the fact that the Huntsman had not helped Cinder escape: in fact, he had been the one to call the police. So Cinder had killed him too, and fled into the night. And the plot thickens, Salem thought, because, while the Huntsman—who had been named Rhodes—had been a USAF pilot, he had also been working for Salem herself, finding likely candidates for the woman who paid him handsomely to betray his country. The odd thing was that Rhodes had geniunely fallen in love with Cinder, likely as a daughter rather than a lover, but Cinder had nicely tied up that loose end. On the run with four murders under her belt, it had been a simple thing to recruit Cinder and set her on her path.

Salem got up and dusted off her cloak. Yes, Cinder would need to be punished, but the velvet glove would be far more preferable than the mailed fist. Cinder would respond to abuse with hate, but she would respond to love, love from a mother she'd never had, with almost doglike devotion. And now that Emerald knew most of the story of her own mother/lover figure, she would ignore even Cinder's abuse and bind herself tighter to the woman—and to Salem herself by extension.

Salem paused as she mounted the last step before the entrance. It was faint, illuminated by the brilliant starlight, but there was a shadow there. She knelt and ran pale fingers over it. A shadow, a shadow of a human being, caught in the middle of walking down the steps by the nuclear blast. A searing light, and then nothing, Salem thought, standing up again. She envied whoever it was: they, at least, were no longer dealing with the agony of life.

SACEUR Forward Headquarters

Near Zielona Gora, Republic of Poland

3 September 2001

"I see you're finally eating, at least."

Ironwood looked up at the voice and set down the hamburger. "I see you're finally meeting with me," he told Rissa Arashikaze. "Took you long enough."

She walked into the tent and sat down in a camp chair across from his desk. "You moved your headquarters from Poznan."

"I was there too long. Salem might just be able to track me." He pushed aside the food. "Which seems to be what you've been up to." Ironwood stood and walked around the desk, staring down at her. "Rissa, I get that you report to the President, not me. But you seem to forget who is in command around here."

She stared up at him. They held the stare for a long moment, then she looked away. "You're right. For that, I apologize. That's why I'm here—to get you back in the loop." Her stomach rumbled audibly. "I don't suppose you've got any more of that. I didn't have dinner tonight."

Ironwood walked to the front of the tent. "Lieutenant! I need another hamburger on the grill. Don't cook it long. And bring two sodas, please." He returned to her and sat on the corner of his desk. "I got that right, didn't I? You like your meat damn near raw."

"If it's not bleeding, it's not worth eating." She motioned him back to his own meal, and Ironwood sat down and returned to it. Her own food and the sodas came along rather quickly. "Sorry it's not beer," the general apologized, as he cracked open a can. "Dry headquarters."

"I understand." She quickly wolfed down half the hamburger, which was indeed mostly red and pink inside. "So. What would you like to chew me out about first?"

"That little incident tonight with Penny, Pietro, and Maria Calavera would be nice. You cost me my only B-1."

Arashikaze explained about the plan to pinpoint Salem's headquarters. "I don't think Salem figured it out," she said. "I think Penny's being deliberately targeted as the holder of the Winter Maiden, that's all. She's probably wondering what the hell the Gulfstream was, but she probably won't think it was an Elint bird, since it didn't look like one." She ate the rest of the hamburger in three bites. "Penny will be all right; she's got a case of mild hypothermia and some frostbite, but she'll recover fully. Maria is fine as well." She paused. "Pietro is a different story. He suffered a heart attack saving Maria's life. He's been upgraded to serious condition rather than critical, but Pietro's body simply cannot take that kind of beating. I don't know how much time he's got left. His lungs are already shot. Anyway, he's out of action for awhile." She shrugged. "Which means Arthur Watts gets a stay of execution."

"What did he tell you?"

"Watts? Nothing. I beat on him a little, let him know where he was in the food chain. But with Pietro out of commission, I have to fall back on the second most smartest man in Europe."

Ironwood gave her a look over his soda can. "That's an exceptionally bad idea. He'll betray you the first chance he gets."

"I can control him. See, Watts suffers from I-don't-want-to-die syndrome. If he was Callows, or Neo Politan, or Cinder Fall, I couldn't control him with threats—they're fanatically devoted to someone, or a cause. But Watts is afraid to die, so that's how you work him." She shrugged. "I'm going to have to move him out of Germany, which I don't want to do, but keeping him at Spandau is too risky, and it's too far away from the front—that's what nearly killed poor Penny, having to get to an altitude where she could send me Pietro's data. I also hate giving him e-mail access, even if it's a crappy dial-up, but he's going to need it for his research. Besides, who the hell is he going to e-mail? It's not like Salem has an AOL account."

"I think you should shoot him in the head and roll his body in a ditch," Ironwood said darkly.

"Not a bad idea, but right now, we need him to finish what Pietro started." Arashikaze sipped at her soda. "We're going to triangulate GRIMM signals, using what we learned tonight, plus what Watts knows. When we figure it out, then we use the Winter Maiden."

Ironwood snorted. "You think Watts is going to betray Salem?"

"Why wouldn't he? Watts wants revenge because not enough people kissed his ass on the Penny project. He's got no loyalty to her. He works for whoever pays him and whoever won't twist his balls off. Which I will do if he betrays me—us," she amended.

"This all assumes Penny will actually use the Winter Maiden," Ironwood said. "She seems rather reluctant for some reason."

Arashikaze kicked back in the camp chair, putting her boots up on his desk. "Gee, I wonder why? Everyone's ordering her around like she's some sort of robot. She's not—she may be a clone that's not even a year old, but she's still a human being. She's going to resent that. So if you're constantly badgering her to use the Maiden, she's going to dig in her feet. It's human nature." She pointed at him. "Not to mention trying to court-martial her friends."

Ironwood rubbed his eyes. "Oh God, Rissa. Really? You're going to throw that in my face? Bad enough you've talked to Qrow without my permission—"

"I don't really need your permission," Arashikaze snapped. "And it was stupid, James. Yes, Rose, Xiao Long, Belladonna—they all disobeyed orders. Yes, they deserve to get spanked for it. But come on. Ordering them out of the theater? Ordering Xiao Long, Nikos and Ren's arrest in Wroclaw? I overturned that, by the way."

"You did what?" Ironwood thundered. "Where the hell do you get off countermanding my orders?"

"When I need those three idiots!" Arashikaze shot back. "That's the other thing I came here to tell you about. I deployed a Delta Force team here yesterday—they're in Wroclaw right now. Once we figure out where Salem's hiding out, we're going after JINN—and Oscar Pine."

Ironwood blinked. "You're serious."

"Damn right I am."

"You're going to lose a lot of people. This sounds like a replay of Eagle Claw."

Arashikaze's turned red with anger. "I was at Desert One, James. I watched a man get his face burned off when that collision happened. And damn if we still didn't come damn close to success. Well, I'm running the show this time, and we're not going to fuck it up!" Her voice rose.

"Easy, easy. Didn't realize that was a sore spot with you. " Ironwood raised his hands. " It would be nice to have JINN back, but why Oscar? I mean, I like the kid, but he's one person."

"He's Ozpin's son," Arashikaze said, more quietly. "I think we owe it to him to at least try. Oz would've done it if it was you or me."

"That's true. Still, we'd have a lot more success using the Maiden—or my little, ah, ace in the hole."

Arashikaze nodded, knowing he was talking about the nuclear bomb. "I agree, but we should try. Anyway, Team Metal is going to have to fight their way through enough, but if their Ospreys are covered by Ace Flight and Norn Flight—and Ruby Flight—they have a much better chance of getting through. Don't you agree?"

Ironwood got up and walked over to the map table. "I suppose I do. But they're still going to get a court-martial, Rissa."

"Why?" He turned to face her. "Why?" Arashikaze repeated. "I'm working with Arthur Watts instead of putting two in his chest and one in his head. Sometimes you have to cut cards with the devil, James. You seem more intent over punishing Ruby and Norn Flights than you are stopping Salem."

"That's not fucking fair, Rissa!" Ironwood exploded.

"All right, it's not fucking fair. You're right; I was out of line. But still, James—you seem very intent on that. Almost obsessed with it. Almost like you want to lash out at them because you can't get at Salem."

Ironwood turned his back on her. "Spare me the Freud, Rissa."

"No, if it was Freud, then I'd say you're punishing Ruby Rose because your mom didn't hug you enough."

He looked back at her over his shoulder, then burst into laughter. She smiled back. "You're a little shit, Rissa. My mother hugged me plenty." Ironwood wiped his eyes. "Heh. No, the reason why I want them punished is because I trusted them…and they betrayed that trust. And I'm damn tired of people doing that. I trusted Ozpin, and then he went and got himself killed. I trusted Miguel Calavera, and he's chomping at the bit to charge into a trap. I trusted Pietro Polendina and he goes behind my back with whatever he was helping you with. I trusted Qrow Branwen and he tells me to go fuck myself to my face. And I trusted Ruby and the rest to carry on Oz's legacy, and they end up just doing their own thing. They're kids, Rissa—they don't have the experience or the rank to be making those decisions. We do. Why don't they trust us for once?"

"Trusting me got Summer Rose killed," Arashikaze said softly. She got to her feet. "Anyway, as soon as we verify Salem's location, Team Metal goes." She sighed. "I wish I had someone a bit more experienced. The team leader is Otome Higurashi—you don't know her."

"Surprised you didn't get MacMillan or Price. Those two old bastards still have the 22nd SAS at Hereford, don't they?"

Arashikaze sniffed a laugh. "MacMillan's still pissed at me for Pripyat. I really wanted Price, but the President said no Brits. This is an American operation. Which is funny, because I've got a SAS exchange trooper in Team Metal." She reached up and touched his shoulder. "James…we're going to get through this. We're going to win. You just have to give us time."

Ironwood bent over the map. "I'll try, Rissa. But something tells me that's not a commodity we have."

The Palace of Culture and Science

Ruins of Warsaw, Republic of Poland

3 September 2001

At the center of the Palace of Culture and Science was a huge Congress Hall. It had badly deteriorated, and Oscar looked worriedly at the ornate ceiling, which despite its still visible gold inlays did not look at all stable. Mold and moss covered the once-impressive Greek-style columns that surrounded the hall, and the red carpeting had long turned into a deep brownish-purple.

"Quit gawking," Hazel snarled, and shoved Oscar forward. He at least had clothes now—an ill-fitting uniform without a belt or strap, and his feet were in slippers rather than boots, but it was clothing. His hands were still cuffed.

The dais at the end was still intact, and that is where Salem stood. The Hound, in his dress uniform, stood a step below her, at perfect parade rest; Oscar had cultivated a deep hatred for the redhaired Faunus. Hazel had, at least, granted Oscar two hours' rest, but soon the Hound was back, kicking the door and screaming "No sleep!" Milling in front, where the chairs were still somewhat intact, were Tyrian, Mercury, Emerald, Neo, and Cinder. Tyrian was pacing impatiently, Mercury was lounging in a chair, Cinder was being guided by Emerald, while Neo stared daggers at both of them, still looking bedraggled from her dunk in the Baltic Sea. Salem, for her part, was poring over a map, leaning against a stone lectern. She looked up as Hazel brought Oscar before her: to Oscar's surprise, Salem was wearing a pair of reading glasses. She took them off, put them in a pocket of her cloak, and took up position in front of the lectern.

"Attention!" the Hound barked. "The Czarina Salem will now address the people!"

All of them came to attention; even Mercury jumped to his feet. Hazel shoved Oscar again, and Oscar came to awkward attention as well. Salem smiled, then put her hands behind her back. "Comrades," she said formally, "we have good news. Tyrian has heard from our dear colleague Dr. Watts. It seems Rissa Arashikaze, the DDI of the CIA, has foolishly allowed him access to the internet, and he contacted one of our dummy accounts—which Tyrian has been faithfully checking." Tyrian beamed up at his queen, like a dog who sensed their master had a treat. "I suppose Watts remains useful after all. Speaking of which…Cinder."

Cinder bowed her head, looking penitent, even embarrassed, which was something Oscar would have never thought would happen. She began to kneel, then stopped herself. Salem walked down the stairs to stand in front of her. "You chose to disobey my specific instructions…and you failed again. Penny Polendina is not dead…and in any case, I do not want Penny Polendina dead."

He saw a tear well up in Cinder's remaining eye and run down her cheek. "I'm…I'm sorry, I—"

"And I've come to realize that it's all my fault."

Salem's words sent a ripple of shock through the gathered crowd. It was the last thing any of them had expected, much less Cinder, whose eye widened in surprise. Salem glanced around. "It's true. It is my fault." She turned back to the younger woman. "You've fought your whole life unwaveringly for what you want, and here I am holding you back…instead of lifting you up." Salem put her hands on Cinder's shoulders. "You deserve so much more than I've given you." She then bent forward and kissed both of Cinder's cheeks. "I forgive you, Cinder. All I ask is that next time, you do better."

Cinder nodded. "Of…of course, Mistress."

"Good. Watts is being moved to Zagan. Go there and recover him. The Hound will accompany you with his new team. Watts plans on luring Penny Polendina there—I want her taken alive as well. I have plans for her, beyond the Winter Maiden. That power, Cinder, will be yours."

"Thank you, Mistress Salem," Cinder intoned.

"Stop!" Oscar suddenly shouted. It was the best shot he was going to have, at a plan that he had been formulating in his cell. "Don't you see what she's doing? Don't you know? Salem doesn't want to rule the world, she wants to destroy it! She wants to kill all of humanity!" Hazel pushed him to his knees, but Oscar continued to yell. "There is no damn throne, not for any of you! She wants to end the world, not rule it!" He was finally silenced when Hazel punched him in the face. Oscar dropped to the musty carpet, his nose bleeding again.

Salem knelt in front of him. "A nice speech, Oscar Pine. But lies. Ozpin's lies." She straightened up. "Dismissed. Cinder, plan the operation thoroughly—you leave tonight." Oscar struggled up to his feet, half expecting Hazel to hit him again. The crowd drifted away, with Tyrian looking at Oscar and laughing like a hyena, and Emerald helping Cinder along, almost tenderly. No one besides Tyrian spared him a glance…except for Neo, who stared at him strangely for a moment, then followed everyone out.

Now it was just Salem, Hazel and Oscar. Salem rolled up the map. "That was a noble speech, Oscar. I am impressed. Your father would be too. But as you can see, no one listened." She stepped down the dais. "There is no hope, Ensign. No one is coming to get you. No one cares if you live. Ironwood's already written you off, and who can blame him? Who cares about a lowly ensign?" She caressed his cheek. "So there's no reason not to give me the password to JINN, is there?"

Oscar awkwardly wiped his nose of the blood. "There's every reason not to give you that code."

Salem regarded him for a moment. "Let me show you something." She unrolled the map in front of him. "These are the current lines of my troops in Poland. As you can see, I've lost ground on the southern flank. I'm not monologuing; Ironwood knows this as well as I. But he's aggressive, our general, and so is his subordinate, Miguel Calavera. A cavalryman; they're always aggressive. They think I'm shortening my lines, freeing up reinforcements to the north. To a certain extent, I am doing that. But they'll attack, and when they do…" She leaned close to him. "Boom."

"Boom?" Oscar asked.

"Boom," Salem confirmed. "Oh, I'm not showing that card, Oscar; you'll know when it happens. You'll feel it. You might even get to see it. But it will destroy Calavera's offensive in its tracks. There will be no 1st Armored Division left. Morale will collapse, and it will be a race to retreat past the Oder—what is the American term? A bugout. And no one will care at all about Ensign Oscar Pine, United States Navy." She rolled up the map. "So your one chance of survival is to tell me JINN's password, otherwise I will have Hazel torture you until you'll be begging me to kill you just for the release. I may…or I may send you back to my home, and use you. After all, Ozpin's genes were strong ones; perhaps they might be useful. You won't enjoy the experience, though." A single white eyebrow raised. "Well?"

Oscar actually laughed. It wasn't a humorous laugh, but a laugh of utter resignation. "I guess I am my father's son after all," he said. He met Salem's eyes. "No."

Salem smiled back, a smile that held respect, but no pity. "You are braver than your father ever was. So be it." She waved at him dismissively. "Take him back to his cell, Hazel. And then break his fingers. All of them. Slowly. Do it so Oscar Pine will never fly again."

AUTHOR'S OTHER NOTES: Operation Eagle Claw was the failed US operation to free the hostages at the embassy in Tehran, Iran in 1980. It was the first outing for Delta Force, and commanded by the legendary "Chargin' Charlie" Beckwith. Everything that could go wrong did, but Delta and their USAF support still managed to get within 100 miles of Tehran, even setting up an advanced base, before the operation was called off. Disaster then struck when a sandstorm hit and a helicopter collided with one of the support C-130s, killing eight Americans. Arashikaze's reference to seeing someone get his face burned off is a reference to the GI Joe character Snake-Eyes: in the original GI Joe Marvel comic, it was heavily implied that Snake-Eyes had saved Scarlett's life during Eagle Claw, and paid for it when burning aviation gas hit him in the face. Oddly enough, a very accurate version of Eagle Claw can be seen in the first few minutes of the otherwise ridiculous Chuck Norris movie, The Delta Force.

And yes, I did read the comments on bringing Captain Price into this fic, but I think that's a little too on the nose, so you'll have to settle for the aside. Interesting that Rissa Arashikaze seems to have been at Pripyat, though...but why would they have been at Pripyat? Was Imran Zakhaev one of Salem's allies? Does Makarov exist in this world? That's a scary thought...