"C'mon, push!"

Jen spotted me as I pressed the weight up, five months out from surgery, and intense monitoring had shown what we'd hoped for, no recurrence.

Now I just had to get my life back.

"One more!"

I dropped the bar to my chest and pushed; it was only ninety pounds, but then again, so was I.

I gritted my teeth and screamed until I finally racked the bar.

Jen offered her hand, pulling me off the sweat-soaked bench, "Solid set, baby brother. Proud of you."

"Thanks, man, getting there, huh?"

"Hell yeah, you are," She glanced over my shoulder, a smile played across her lips, "I think someone's looking for you."

I followed her gaze and spied Angie leaning against the archway that led into the rest of the gym, a small smile on her face. I waved her over, wrapping my arms around her as soon as I could reach.

"Hey," I whispered into her sweet-smelling hair.

"Hey you," I could hear the smile in her voice as she leaned into me, "Just came to see how my patient's recovery is going. "

I pulled back, holding her at arm's length and gesturing to my sweat-soaked self.

"Getting back there, slowly."

Her eyes took on an odd quality, "So I see…," She shook her head and gave Jen a million-watt smile, "Hey Jen."

Jen smirked at us, "Hey Angela, how's business?"

"Exhausting and a little boring now that this guy isn't around, but you won't catch me complaining," She finished with a warm smile.

She pulled back, suddenly….nervous? Toying with her incredibly expensive watch.

"So Zack, I was wondering…" She chuckled cutely, "Breaking all the rules today…How about that drink?"

I was floored, I knew we joked, but I thought that was all it was.

But she kissed you, you idiot, sought you out here. She was serious.

Jen gently punched me in the shoulder, jerking her head at Angie.

"I'd love to Angie, when?"

Her head snapped up from where she'd been studying her shoes, her eyes lighting up, "Really? Um, I mean, yeah, that…sounds good."

"Tonight work for you?"

I smiled as she stumbled, "Tonight would be wonderful; it's one of the few nights I have off."

This was it; this was why I'd fought so hard, to take this beautiful woman to dinner.

"I'll pick you up at eight?"

She blushed to her ears, "Eight it is; I'll see you then…Bye, Jen."

She spun on her heel and bailed.

"Well, I'll be goddamned, look at you," Jen was smiling, "She likes you, don't fuck this up."

I was still staring after Angie's retreating form.

"Only way to go from here is up."

Jen wrapped her arms around me from behind, resting her chin on my shoulder. I reached up and gently scratched at the side of her head.

"Glad you're still here, man."

"Me too, Jenny, me too."

Roanapur had its own kind of beauty, like a coiled cobra; every corner held something different, from street vendors and kids begging to hookers in various stages of undress. One stunning blonde stepped out of an alley and into my path around block number four.

" 'allo monsieur care to 'ave a leetle fun?"

I eyed her up, big tits, wide hips, and long legs encased in a sleek black dress, her inviting smile sat below emerald green eyes and a pretty little swoop of a nose. Gorgeous didn't scratch the surface. She stepped closer and trailed a lacquered nail down my chest, leaving goosebumps in her wake.

I could see her ribs through the fabric of her cocktail dress; the sight made my mind up for me. I dug a hundred out of my back pocket, the only bill I kept there; the rest was in my socks, I'd been rolled way too many times.

"Non, ma belle," I grabbed her hand, pressing the cash into her palm, "Get you and your friends something to eat, tu comprends?"

Her eyes went wide when she caught on; tears welled up in the corners, her act disappeared in a flash, "Merci monsieur… merci beaucoup…"

I smiled, squeezing her hand, "De rien, Beaute.Be safe, okay?"

She nodded, bolting back to her friends down the alley, pointing at me as I passed.

I lit a smoke and kept walking; if there was one thing I'd learned, it was that sometimes, no matter how self-assured or how together someone seemed to have it, we all need a fucking break.

The Yellow Flag loomed in the distance, a two-story structure that looked like it had some serious miles on it. I went to stub my smoke as I got closer until I smelled the air wafting out from the double doors.

Right, nobody gives a shit here.

The place sounded raucous from the sidewalk, but when I shouldered the door open, a whole new world greeted me, wood-paneled everything, the acrid smell of smoke, and every table packed with dangerous-looking dudes. I nodded to the scarred bouncer and picked my way through the crowd to the bar, where a lone Asian dude was trying to survive a deluge of orders.

I'd missed the third-world nightlife.

I leaned in, catching his attention, "Baht or Dollars?" I shouted over the din.

"Dollars!" He called back, pulling a few pints for some Hispanic looking guys who gave me the "fuck you" stare.

Found the Cartels.

I flashed him a thumbs up and pulled a hundred out, "Rum and Coke, please! Let me get their drinks too." I pointed at the Cartel dudes.

The 'tender looked at me like I'd lost my mind but snatched the dough, all the same, passing them their beers, deftly mixing my drink and sliding it across the bar.

Some familiar music played from the overhead speakers, and I bobbed my head a little, raising my glass at the appreciative nod from the formerly surly sicarios.

A little respect went a long way.

The doors swung in, and I heard an unmistakable voice.

"SET 'EM UP BAO, I'M ABOUT TO BLACKOUT!"

Revy came sauntering in, followed by Rock and an absolute mountain of a man I…recognized?

"Dutch?" I called out over the roar.

He jerked like he'd been slapped when he met my grinning face.

"Briggs? That you?"

I slid off the stool, walking up to shake his massive hand, "Nah, just an incredibly good-looking impostor, what the fuck over?"

"I haven't seen you since Syria."

"Yeah, it's been a long time, D…"

"So I found him, working on this critical patient, the stubborn bastard wouldn't leave…"

The four of us had found a table, and Dutch was telling war stories. I'd filled them in on my time with MRI, about how I'd started in Chiang Mai up North, to the Sudan, all the way through Syria, and back here again.

The conversation flowed evenly, Revy was a fun drunk, but I got the feeling she'd start shooting if someone got her Irish up, and she gave nothing away about her past; I had a feeling I didn't want to know.

Rock was easier to read, just a regular guy who'd gotten caught up in a game no one wanted him to win, and he somehow came out on top.

I liked them both already.

I finished my fifth drink of the night, and boy was I feeling it, "I had a job to do, D. Nothing magical about it."

It turned out that Dutch had gotten out of the Corps right after our last meeting, disgusted with the way the US had handled Syria, Iraq, and everywhere else he'd been. He'd been on leave to Thailand a few times, loved it, and moved here shortly thereafter, fucking around for a couple of months before getting the itch, plying his skills, and standing up his own business.

He'd met Revy that first year and the rest was history. She'd become his second in command, and five years later, the Lagoon Company was one of the most respected smuggling outfits in Roanapur.

"Wait, so you're fuckin' telling me that this pansy looking boy scout has some balls after all?" Revy slurred a little.

Pansy looking? Me?

I was offended.

I looked down at my tattooed arms; I even sprung for some ill-advised knuckle tattoos one drunken night in Bogota, Hold Fast,of all things, it had sounded cool at the time, through the tequila, now I was just embarrassed at how dumb I was. Not one of my pieces wasn't marred by a scar or two, and a Russian Mob boss had just knocked in my face.

Pansy?!

"Listen here…"

Rock jumped in, "It sounds like you're well-traveled if nothing else, you've had some truly amazing experiences."

I side-eyed Revy; it was better this way; she'd probably have blown my head off and then rolled my dead ass for the next round of drinks. I'm Irish, we tend to try and eat shit bigger than our head, and I was grateful to Rock for saving me from myself.

My nose throbbed as if to prove a point.

"Not all of them were amazing Rock, some of 'em were so terrible it doesn't bear getting into."

Dutch inclined his glass my way, "Amen."

Rock looked a little sheepish, so I reached over and socked him gently in the shoulder, "No worries, man, if you haven't been there, it's hard to explain; you didn't cross any lines or anything. Now…" I grinned at the table, "Next round's on me. Shots?"

Revy picked her head up off the table, "Shot for shot?"

"Bingo, think you can keep up?"

Even drunk, her eyes flashed at the challenge, "You fuckin' callin' me out? Boy scout?"

I nodded, smirking at her, "This boy scout is about to show you what's up." I pushed away from the table to a groan from Rock and a chuckle from Dutch.

"Quit crying, Rock, try real hard not to be a pussy, hmm?" The almost gentle tone of Revy's voice drew a laugh out of me as I headed for the bar.

The poor kid was in for it.

I stumbled a bit, leaning on a table and waving an apology at the two guys sitting there; they just laughed and waved me off as I continued my rum-soaked journey. I caught Bao's eye, holding up four fingers.

"One-Fifty-One! Shots, please!" I caught the slur in my voice, fuck it, I was having a good time.

He nodded and smiled, hustling off to fill the order.

I spun in my stool, lighting a smoke and watching the crowd. Something caught my eye on the dance floor.

A tall blonde woman, clad in a hot pink tank top and shorts that barely covered her figure, was clearly working on shit-faced, dancing in a way that put most strippers I'd met to shame.

It was surprising that the patrons were giving her a wide berth, she was the only woman outside of Revy that I could see, but there was a lot to take in. Blue eyes, soft-looking pink lips, and mile-long legs.

I watched her move, really putting on a show until the song ended; she took a moment to catch her breath, deep heaving breaths that did amazing things to her body under those skimpy clothes.

Then our eyes met, a small smile crossed her lips, her tongue slipped out to moisten them, making me wonder what it would be like to wrap those legs around my waist and show her a good time.

Idle thoughts and nothing more. I hadn't had sex in…years, Jesus.

But she took it a step further, swinging her way over to the bar and sliding onto the stool next to mine, facing the crowd and draping her arms over the oak expanse. Her fingers ghosted at the edges of my shirt as she threw an order over her shoulder in almost perfect Vietnamese before returning to burning a hole in the side of my head with her gaze.

"I'm Eda." She almost shouted over the music and conversation.

I offered my hand, swaying, the room tilting just a little bit, "Zack."

She took my hand gently, more holding it than a handshake, her thumb drawing circles on my knuckles.

"Charmed, I'm sure."

"I'm sure you are, but we've only just met."

She flashed a grin at me and grabbed my hand fully, "Why don't you come with me? I'd like to show you something out back."

Fuck it, time to end the dry spell.

I gestured at the shots that had just arrived, "Gotta take these back to my friends, after that? I'd be glad to take a look." I grinned when she did, and allowed her to pull me off the stool, stumbling back to the table with my new friend at my back.

Revy was the first one to catch sight of us, "Oh shit, look who decided to show up; it's the town bike!"

"Fuck yourself, tranny. Hey, Dutch…Romeo." Came the scathing reply from over my shoulder that trailed into polite and turned into saccharine when she addressed the other two.

Revy growled a little.

I chuckled; no love lost here, it seemed.

Dutch tipped his drink in our direction, "Sister Eda."

Rock smiled, "Hello, Sister."

I raised an eyebrow at the clergy based implication but kept it to myself, setting the shots down, snatching up my own.

"Alright, lady and gentlemen, to old friends and new ones!"

"Hear hear!" Rock agreed, an amiable smile on his face.

The others raised their glasses, and we slugged the rum as one.

The burning spice wormed down my throat, settling into my stomach, warmth diffusing through me.

"Ah, that's so fuckin' good." Revy almost moaned.

"Seconded," I flipped the shot glass over and set it on the table, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've a lady to entertain." I jerked my head at Eda, who grabbed my hand and hauled me through the crowd towards the back door; wolf-whistles followed us all the way into the alley, along with a parting shot from Revy.

"Watch out for her dick! I'm betting it's bigger than yours!"

Eda flipped her off over her shoulder; raucous laughter echoed as the door opened.

The door shut behind us, and it was on.

All the playfulness fled in an instant; she grabbed the front of my shirt and hurled me against the brick; the world spun as she stepped inside my reach and kissed me hotly, all tongue and soft lips with a hint of booze.

My abused face protested; the rest of me didn't. Her eyes snapped open mid-kiss, looking around the alley. Once she was sure we were alone, she broke the kiss just as fast, digging for a cigarette.

"Well, hello to you too…" I grinned breathlessly.

She rolled her eyes, leaning in and lowering her voice, "The smooth act never worked for you, Briggs, James Bond you ain't."

Her jab did nothing to kill my good time, "Missed you too, Blackwater. "Ends of the earth" looks good on you."

She lit her smoke and smiled at me, evilly, " You too, and you…" She poked me in the chest, "Owe me big, do you know how much shit I had to pull to get that crispy Russian bitch to allow your little pet project to go ahead?"

I lit my own, "I owe you? Remember Bucharest? You can cram that straight up your perfect ass Eda."

Her smile turned sultry, "You gonna cram it up there for me, Zack?"

I snorted, and my nose reminded me that it was still broken, "Ow, fuck…Depends, I guess? Are you still you?"

She looked down at her admittedly fantastic body, "Yep."

"There ya go then. You did Dave and I a solid; let's just leave it at that, mkay?"

Someone opened the door, and she leaped into my arms, sliding her hands under my shirt, moaning into my mouth as she tried her damndest to shove her tongue all the way down my throat.

Whoever it was whistled drunkenly and stepped back inside, we separated, and I tried to catch my breath again.

"Jesus, woman! Searching for my tonsils?"

She giggled, "I saw the excuse, and I went for it. Can you blame me? Have you seen you in a mirror?"

I shook my head, chuckling; this was a game we'd been playing for a while.

"Yeah, I'm sure I look sexy as hell all busted up."

She took drag off her smoke, leaving a pink ring on the filter, "S'my fetish, you know this."

"Yeah, yeah…Anything to pass on?"

Eda shook her head, "No, I just wanted to get you alone so we could catch up… " She grinned, "and to see if I could break through your legendary defenses."

Eda and I had some history; she'd approached me in Brazil, at a bar for ex-pats, we'd gotten drunk, commiserating over being Americans in a foreign land, she'd made her pitch a few days later. Asking for my help getting her into an area that someone in her line of work would have a hard time accessing.

Dave didn't know, and would never know, that the Rio story was her doing, three rounds to the chest, septic shock, flatlined twice on the table.

I guess she felt guilty; I became an "Asset" of hers soon after that, maybe her way of mending fences. I ran side gigs, pre-placed gear for jobs, and kept my ear to the ground, all at the behest of Uncle Sam and Eda Goddamn Blackwater.

See, what nobody knew, outside of the seventh floor of a very well known building in Virginia, is that she currently occupied a GS-13 Step Ten slot in the National Clandestine Service.

A fancy way of saying she was a high ranking Case Officer for the CIA.

She'd also been trying to get me into bed since day one. I failed to see the appeal.

"Not today, Satan," I flicked my smoke and lit another, "but I will buy you a drink."

She pouted cutely, "One day Briggs, one day that dick will be mine; I'm gonna take it home with me and polish it, going right on the mantle with all my other trophies."

I chuckled, "Missed you, Eda, really."

She stepped up and hugged me, whispering in my ear, "I missed you too; how's your head? The nightmares still bad?"

I held her tight, "Yeah, not something that gets better…"

"I know..."

"Eda?"

"Hmm?"

"Get your hand off my dick."

"You're no fun," she mumbled into my shoulder but complied, all the same, stepping away and messing up her clothes. It would look too weird if we went back in looking normal.

"Get my hair?" She asked, grinning at me.

She was working my last nerve, so I rolled my eyes and spun her into the wall, backing her against it and ignoring her gasp. I ran my hands through her blonde locks, really fucking up her hairdo as she watched me with wide eyes. Her hands reached for me, but I stepped back, smirking.

"There ya go, the freshly-fucked special."

She growled, "Without any of the benefits… one of these days, Alice."

I chuckled, untucking my shirt all the way and dropping my zipper, pulling my belt off-center.

"Mhmm," I held my hands out to my sides, "Good enough?"

Angry muttering and a nod was the reply.

"Brilliant, how about that drink?"

She grumbled but allowed me to grab her hand, her fingers curled around mine warmly, and we headed back in.

I walked out of the bar significantly worse off than when I went in, hanging off Eda, Dutch, Revy, and Rock at my back.

"Was fun." I slurred, " Gotta do it…again."

Revy punched me in the shoulder hard enough that I almost face-planted into the gutter, "Told ya…can't beat me… fucker."

I nodded, leaning into Eda, "You…" The world spun, and I almost puked, "weren't wrong…"

Dutch chuckled, where he'd put all of that I had no idea, legendary Marine endurance in action. He was currently keeping Rock on his feet; the ex-salaryman smiled hazily.

Eda laughed, likewise toeing the line, "C'mon Cowboy, let's get you home."

" 'Kay…Later," I waved at the smugglers, "Get home safe."

Dutch smiled, "You too, man, later on."

We split up, Eda dragged me down the street, and Dutch headed for a low-slung muscle car, carrying his own cargo.

"S'nice to have friends…" I muttered into her shoulder a few blocks later.

A giggle answered, "You always will."

I smiled, "Eda?"

"Yeah?"

"Stay with me tonight?"

She stiffened, "A-are you sure that's a good idea?"

I waved a hand drunkenly, sagging against her, "Not like that… I…" My mood darkened in a flash, and I sniffed back tears, "I just…I don't want to be alone…. Never mind, s'not fair to you… You're not a fucking yo-yo."

She tightened her grip on me, pulling me back to my feet, " If you don't want to be alone, then you won't be."

I let the tears fall as she helped me stay upright. I felt her hands dig into my pocket, heard the key slip into the lock; I staggered against her as we headed up the stairs.

She let me go, and I fell onto the bed with a bounce, fighting back nausea. I heard her busying herself in the bathroom, and a glass of water was shoved into my hand a moment later. I drank greedily, knowing tomorrow was going to suck.

"Slow down, cowboy, gonna make it worse…"

I nodded, pacing myself, draining the last of the water; she gently pulled the glass back and set it on the nightstand, the light from the street silhouetting her as she moved.

She really was beautiful, deadly, all of it.

In another life, I'd have been a lucky man.

Fingers worked on my shirt's buttons, gently easing my rig off to settle on the floor with a thunk. "Arm's up," She whispered, and I obliged, letting her peel my shirt off before pulling off my boots and going to work on my belt.

I gently grabbed her wrists.

"Leave 'em…S'okay."

She shook her head, "You're gonna be sweating like a hooker in church, and I don't want to be sticky."

I let her go, and she got back to work, pulling down my jeans, pointedly not looking at my near-naked self.

"All done, lay down before you fall down."

I rolled onto the mattress, facing the wall and curling up. The bed sagged as she sat down, collapsing onto her side, and taking up the other side of the pillow. I could smell her perfume and feel her breath on the back of my neck as she shifted closer.

A soft sob ripped out of me.

"I…I…"

A soft body pressed against my back, arms sliding around my shoulders, blonde hair cascaded around my face.

"I know, sweetheart… I know…"

I spun into her gentle embrace, buried my face in her chest, and cried like a lost child…

She deserved better, but she held me until I finally drifted off.

The sunlight woke me up, streaming around the closed shades; I opened my eyes and immediately regretted it, pain blasting through my head, compounded by my cuts and bruises.

"Motherfucker…"

It took me a minute to realize that I was alone; I peered around the room for any sign of her, and there on my nightstand sat a note, steepled and waiting.

I reached out, plucking the rough paper from the nicked surface, unfolding it, and trying to read through the pounding headache.

Zack-

Sorry to run like that; I needed to get moving; no rest for the wicked… I know you're probably kicking yourself…

I sighed; I hadn't been, but I sure as shit was now.

Well, don't, we've been dancing for a long time, and I like the tempo…

Just don't ask me to do that again for a while.

Please.

You're a good man; you didn't use me, even though I desperately wanted you to. I'm always here for you, all you have to do is call, and I'll come running. I'm sure that says more about me than I'm willing to deal with right now; I'd probably be mad at anyone else…

But I can't help but love you a little.

Anyway, back to reality, I'm out at the Rip-Off Church, ask anyone, and they can point you my way.

Don't be a stranger.

E-

I set the note down, staring at the ceiling.

Why am I such a piece of shit?

Not giving that an inch, I rolled out of bed, heading for the shower.

Time to get to work.

I'd given myself an IV, chasing away the monstrous hangover, and by the middle of the day, I was starting to feel human again. I was on my hands and knees, scrubbing the floors when the buzzer sounded over and over like someone was frantically wailing on the thing. I ripped off the black, formerly yellow gloves and headed for the door, pulling it open.

A woman stood there, tears sheeting down her face, a young girl cradled in her arms, blood covered them both.

It didn't look like the girl was breathing.

My heart rate shot through the roof.

I motioned for her to follow and sprinted for the surgical suite, shouting to the mother in Thai.

"What happened?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" She sobbed, "SOMEONE SHOT HER!"

"What's her name?"

"KANDA! PLEASE! HELP HER!"

I booted the door open and gloved up as the sobbing woman laid the kid on the table, stepping up to her side.

"Kanda? Sweetie, can you hear me?"

Not even a whimper in response.

Her mother clung to her, sobbing harder.

"Ma'am, I need you to step back," I pulled my trauma shears off the instrument tray, slicing the thin shirt from hip to collarbone in one smooth motion.

It was the last thing she wanted to do, but she complied, backing up and covering her mouth with blood-slicked hands.

A puckered entrance wound greeted me, mid-line, and off to the right.

Bloody bubbles leaked out of the wound with every shallow breath the kid took. I gently rolled her over, praying for an exit wound; I didn't have the people to go looking…

My prayers were answered, a walnut-sized hole just under her shoulder blade off to the right side.

If her lung was punctured or if it hit an artery…I took a deep breath, rolling my shoulders.

"Ma'am, I need you here."

She rushed over; I pointed to the wound, "Put pressure on it."

She slipped her hands over the wound, whispering to her baby, begging her to hold on.

I moved around the room like lightning, gowning up, and scrubbing quickly before grabbing what I'd need. Oxygen, blood type kit, Ketamine to put her under, scalpels and gauze.

All the tools of my trade.

I keyed up the O2, slipping the mask over her face, the IV went in next, saline and Ketamine flowed into her veins, and she was all the way out in seconds, I had to eyeball the fucking dosage, and I cursed not having actual doctors here for this shit. I ripped open a scalpel blade, affixing it to the handle, my chest tube armed and ready.

"Ma'am, I need you to go outside; I promise I'm gonna do everything I can."

She looked at me like I'd lost my mind, but I stood firm.

After a beat, she nodded, squeezing her kid's hand and walking out, sobbing loudly.

The world dropped away…The little girl and I were all that existed.

I was about to do surgery on this poor kid without the benefit of any of the shit that made surgery successful.

Fuck it.

Seal those wounds.

I slapped a Halo Seal over the entrance wound, gently rolling her and repeating the process with the exit.

Open her up and get that tube in.

I ran the scalpel over her skin, opening her up and gently sliding the tube in; air and blood rushed out before slowing to a trickle, her chest rebounding slightly.

No arterial involvement, no punctured lung.

My eyes kept flicking to the EKG; her heart rate was strong; if I didn't fuck this up, she might live…

What felt like hours later, I walked out of the suite after wheeling the kid into the recovery room, pulling off my gown, and ditching it in the trash. Kanda's mother stood waiting, face red and puffy from crying, terror in her eyes as I ran a hand through my hair.

"She's resting; I need to keep her here for a few days for observation. But she should pull through just fine."

The woman collapsed into my arms, clinging to me.

"Shh, shhh. It's going to be okay. Would you like to see her?"

She nodded into my chest, and I supported her all the way into the suite where Kanda lay, sleeping soundly. She'd be out for a few hours yet. Her mother rushed to her side, laying her head gently on the girl's chest, whispering to her softly.

I stepped out and gave them some space, lighting a cigarette and sliding down the wall, trying to get my hands to stop shaking.

The sunset and the streetlights came to life, I set up a cot for Kanda's mother, Malee, and she was resting comfortably next to her daughter.

The kid would live, barring infection or anything else, but the cocktail of antibiotics I had her on should keep that shit at bay. For now, I sat on my bed, my cell linked to Kanda's EKG and O2, and smoked, staring into the darkness. If I were anyone else, I would have wondered why someone would shoot a kid, but after everything I'd seen, nothing surprised me.

The buzzer broke me out of it; I popped off the bed, snatching my cell and heading down the stairs.

My hand had barely touched the knob before someone booted the door, slamming it open, dark shapes resolved into swarthy guys in masks with guns, tattoos on every inch of exposed skin, one of them shoved a gun in my face and yelled something in Spanish.

"Dónde está la chica ?!"

I put my hands up; I'd left my fucking gun upstairs.

"Where is the girl pendejo!"

They were looking for Kanda.

"I don't know what you're talking about. There's no girl here."

He stepped up and whipped me in them with his weapon; I heard a tooth go shooting off into the ether as I took the hit.

"Oh, you motherfucker," I snarled, spitting blood onto the floor, "there's no girl here."

"Motherfucker we know she's here, so just give her up, and that'll be that." The guy doing all the talking growled, pressing the barrel of his Beretta into my forehead.

"Can't give up what I don't have."

One of his guys went to step around me, and I stepped into his path, shoulder checking him back into his guys.

His gun came up, and he fired without missing a beat.

I felt the round punch through my chest; cold instead of pain told me I was fucked.

Nobody moved as I swayed from the impact; the asshole that shot me grinned.

So I launched myself at the leader, I had maybe two minutes left, and I was going to make it count.

My pocket knife came flying out with a click, embedding itself deep into his face. He screamed obscenely as I wrenched the Beretta out of his hand and fired into the shocked sicarios, my vision rapidly fading.

Somewhere outside, a roar of automatics sounded, and the lobby started disintegrating around me, bullets tearing into the walls, shattering glass, ripping the Cartel soldiers to shreds; a stray round caught me high in the shoulder, spinning me to the floor, all the heat drained out of me, I was freezing, and I knew what it meant.

I was dying.

It was finally going to end…

The rumble of automatic fire continued for a few seconds until a voice cracked across the din.

"OSTANOVIT' POZHAR!"

Ceasefire…

I tried to get up and failed, my blood mixing with the others on the floor; I fumbled for my pocket, going for my smokes, only then remembering that I'd left them upstairs.

No breaks, it seemed.

Glass crunched, someone stalked into the clinic, stepping over the dead bodies of the assholes who'd killed me.

A mask clad man picked through the carnage, calling out in Russian.

"BRIGGS?"

I raised my hand, and his shorty AK snapped around at the movement.

"Right…here, I've got a…patient…help her." I ground out between panting breaths.

He grabbed for his radio, "Sergeant, I've found him, badly injured!"

"Get him out."

"Roger, moving!"

He slung his weapon and grabbed my arm, slinging me over his shoulder.

I coughed, and blood exploded out of my mouth all over the back of his uniform; darkness rushed in from all sides as he carried me into the balmy night air.

I'm coming.

…Missed you guys….

A/N: Whoo boy, that was a tough one… wiped out in your own dojo, let me know what you thought, give me feedback, or just flat out tell me the story is shit. I'm all ears.

Till next time.