After another round of dodging Hathai's wandering hands, I had two fresh suits in the back, one on, and an hour until the meeting at the Hotel; I decided to slide into the clinic and see how the Doc's were holding up; I pulled in just up the block and headed for the door.

My hand hit the knob, the door opened, and the smell hit me in the face. I swept my jacket and pulled my Glock, shaking at the all too familiar odor.

Blood.

The air was thick with it as I sliced the corner, clearing into the lobby.

Nothing.

I moved, checking behind the reception desk and heading down the hallway. I knew better than to call out; the last thing I wanted was to let whoever might be in here that I was fuckin' around. The first exam room was clear, the second likewise, but the smell was getting stronger…

I pushed open the door to the surgical suite.

Oh fuck…

The three Doctors were bound together, signs of torture marred them, Fredericks was missing a few fingers, Casey was minus an ear, someone had sliced up Austin's pretty face, leaving her barely recognizable. All of their throats were cut from ear to ear, a massive pool of drying blood haloed around them on the pristine floor.

Rage, cold and biting, flooded through me. I cleared the soft corners before moving through the room, finding myself alone in the charnel house. I held my Glock on the door and dug for my phone.

Eda picked up on the second ring.

"Can't stay away, huh?"

"Eda, all the doctors at the clinic, are dead; someone cut 'em up first."

"Holy shit, really?"

"Fuckin…yeah. Remember what you taught me? No coincidences?"

"Yeah, fuck, are you there now?"

"I am; I just wanted to see how they were doing, fuck, they didn't deserve this."

"I know, Jesus, they must've been after you."

"And the Doc's couldn't tell them because they didn't know where I was, motherfuckers!" I snarled, kicking an instrument tray over, "Eda, find these cocksuckers; I'm gonna make sure they burn for this."

"I'll make some calls, get out of there, best place for you right now is behind all the Ivans at the Hotel. I'll get someone over to the clinic to clean the place up."

"Eda, you make sure they get home okay?"

"I will, I promise."

I killed the call; staring at the bodies for a moment, I wondered if Casey had gotten a chance with Genevieve. Something thumped above me, and I shook it off, making my way back into the hallway, gently moving up the stairs, something creaked, and I froze. Two distinct sets of footsteps drifted down the hall.

Oh, you're fucking mine.

Something I'd buried in Dongola all those years ago came roaring back.

I pushed up the stairs, rocking gently with each step to keep the stairs from giving me away, remembering Dave's training, the SEALS I'd hung out with in Afrin, and Eda in those sweltering alleys in Brazil, voices whispering in my ear.

Let the violence surprise both of you.

A crash… someone was tossing my room.

Speed and aggression. Anyone with a weapon, put 'em down quick.

I moved to the knob side of my door… breathing deep.

Soft corners first. Move with a purpose.

I grabbed the knob, the muzzle of my gun pointed at the center, just above my hand. Muffled voices came from inside, words I couldn't make out. I gently popped the door.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Move.

I kicked the door off the hinges, stepping through the entryway in a flash; two masked guys were rifling through my bag, the first one turned, a gun held low in his right hand.

"FUCK!"

I shot him twice in the hips, right below his body armor; he went down as his pelvis shattered, screaming. The second guy was faster, firing a round that barely missed me as I stepped offline, firing as I moved, three rounds into his plates and one into his face as he pitched forward. I moved up on the screaming asshole and booted him in the face; reaching down and grabbing his gun, I dumped the mag and ejected the round he'd had in the chamber.

I stood up, pacing as the adrenaline burned off; the wounded guy started pleading.

"Oh, fuck! Help me please!" traces of a Brooklyn accent colored his words.

I crouched down and ripped his mask off; wide and horrified eyes stared up at me before I slapped him across the face and dropped a knee onto his shattered hip.

He howled to the empty apartment.

"Just you and me, asshole, you killed good people here, people who were just trying to help. Did you ambush the Russians?"

"Please!"

I rocked my knee, and he screamed.

"FUCK! YES! WE DID! STOP… PLEASE!"

"Who's "we"?"

"Verrochio…told us to wipe out the Russian bitch."

I relaxed, and he panted, sweat running down his face.

"Now we're going for a ride. You're gonna tell Balalaika what you just told me."

His eyes went wide, "No! please!"

I decked him in the mouth, knocking him out again. A quick trip to the supply closet and one roll of duct tape later, I bundled him up and carried his bloody self down the stairs and into the trunk of the BMW.

I pulled my phone, wiping his blood off my face, and dialed Alexei's number.

"Zack, everything okay?"

"No, My clinic was attacked, the Doctors are dead, I have one of the guys who did it; he knows who ambushed us. I'm bringing him to you."

"Understood, I'll tell the Captain."

"Thanks. See you in a few."

Muted thumps from the trunk told me the asshole was awake; soft screams as I slid behind the wheel let me know he was hurting.

Good.

I rolled into the Hotel parking lot a few minutes later, taking the corner a little fast, rewarded with a thud followed by a scream from my passenger. Balalaika and Boris waited at the entrance; a crowd of guards stood around, waiting likewise for my cargo. I popped the trunk; he was squirming around, blood soaking into the fabric.

"Well, that's never coming out… c'mon shit head."

I grabbed a handful of his vest and dragged him out of the rig, letting him fall to the blacktop, he screamed around the duct tape, and I couldn't care less. I snagged the drag handle between his shoulders and pulled him along the scorching blacktop, dropping him at Balalaika's feet.

"Captain, just a little something I picked up for you."

Her gaze was deadly as she stared down at the terrified man, but her voice was silky, almost sultry, "Oh…You really shouldn't have…"

My heart sped up a little.

"Take him inside," She snapped to her men, and they moved, grabbing the Mafia soldier and half-carried, half-dragged him into the building.

Balalaika turned on an elegant heel, and I followed her in.

I'd been standing outside the door for an hour, smoking and waiting while they worked him over. The door popped, and Balalaika waved me in. I stubbed my smoke out on the wall and stepped inside; the guy was hamburger, one eye mashed to shit, cuts and bruises marred his face.

Balalaika's smile glinted evilly as she leaned in and whispered into my ear, "This is Gino; he's been excellent conversation so far." The guy groaned. "I thought you might want to speak to him. Do what you need to."

Her being so close made it a little hard to think, "Thanks, Boss."

I stepped up and crouched down, grabbing a handful of his hair, lifting his gaze to mine.

"Hey, bud… what was the point of killing my Doc's, hm? Why even come to the clinic in the first place?"

"Told..to grab…you… leverage…"

I chuckled, "Fuckin' leverage? Buddy, look at these steely-eyed Russian bastards. Do they look like they give a fuck about me? You killed good people for leverage you were never gonna get. But I'll tell you what, I'm gonna do ya a fuckin' favor. Just answer me one question."

"Fuggin…what?"

"Did you cut them up like that? The woman, Austin, you do that to her face?"

Tears ran out of the eye he still had, "Orders…wasn't… personal."

I smiled, horrific anger flooding through me as my hand dipped low, "Yeah, maybe… but this sure as shit is."

I stood and stepped back, my Glock coming up, he opened his mouth to say something, to scream, and I fired a round into it. His head snapped back, colliding with the back of the chair with a sickening crack. Blood sprayed out of his mouth and nose as his feet twitched, beating a tattoo against the floor—his body trying in vain to live just a moment longer.

I watched him until he finally fell still, pulling out my smokes; a lighter snapped next to me, Balalaika held it out, and I nodded my thanks, leaning in until the cigarette glowed.

"Thanks, Boss."

"Now we have our culprits, nicely done."

"Right place, right time Balalaika, no skill involved, I just got lucky."

She deadpanned, "You have a real problem accepting compliments, don't you?"

I smirked, tasting a little bit of Gino's blood in the air, "Always have. What's next?"

She was rolling a cigar against the flame of her lighter, it glowed to life, and she snapped the zippo shut, "Now we respond. Sergeant?"

"Kapitan?"

"Assemble the men; I have some calls to make."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Zack?"

"Captain?"

"Follow me."

I stuck behind her as we left the room, heading up the grand staircase to her office; up until now, I'd only seen the rathole she called an office at Bougainvillea, the room she led me into was…opulent, beautiful tapestries lined the walls, bookcases filled with classics framed a massive oak desk, I whistled.

"No half measures with you, huh?"

"I'm in Hell; I may as well live comfortably." She answered, not looking back as she made for her desk. "I'm sorry about your friends."

I took a deep drag off my cigarette, "We'd only just met, but they were good people; they deserved better."

She nodded, "And they will be avenged; I just wanted to express my condolences. I have to make a few calls, negotiate with the other heads in the city, stay close by when we step off; I want you involved."

"Will do, and thank you for letting me drop the hammer on that piece of shit."

She smiled evilly, "The first of many, I assure you."

I returned her smile, heading out without a word; I had my own calls to make. I dialed as I headed down the stairs; Dave picked up after a few rings.

"Hey man, how's business."

"Dave…The Doc's are gone."

"What?"

"Someone was looking for me, and they killed them, tortured them first."

"Motherfuc…What the fuck is going on in that shit hole?!"

"Nothing good, listen close I've gotta talk quick, I took the job with the Russians, now someone is trying to take out the whole outfit, me included. I can't run the clinic, not now….shit got real, man. Don't send anyone else in here."

"Fuck…alright man, just…take care of yourself. I'll see you on the other side."

"Fuckin' A you will, brother, once I'm clear of this, I'll find you guys."

"Yeah, you better, head on a fucking swivel, kid."

"Online on time. Always. Bye, Dave."

"Bye, Zack, go with God."

I heard him hang up, and I sighed.

I hoped I'd be able to keep my promise.

I walked into the parking lot and slid into my car, kicking the engine on and firing up the AC against the heat of the day, dialing Dutch's number.

"Hey man, where ya been?"

"Fuckin' getting shot at by every asshole in the city, listen D, I'm working for Balalaika, officially, I know you heard about the ambush."

"I did, you working for the Russians? You good with that?"

"I am, have my reasons, I can't get into it, but you need to keep your fucking head down and lose the Guinea's number. Things are gonna get hot."

"Appreciate the heads up brother, if you need anything, Lagoon's got your back."

"I believe it, man. Thank you. I gotta jet, tell everyone I said hey."

"Will do be safe."

"Likewise, later."

I lit another cigarette and dialed Eda; it took her one ring to answer.

"Everything okay?"

I smiled at the concern in her voice, "Yeah, everything's fine; the Italians were behind the hit, Balalaika's on the warpath."

"Got it, anything you need from me?"

"I need to know why. The Italians are too small time for this shit; Verrochio, from what I hear, is ambitious, but he's not suicidal. There's a thread there that bears being tugged on."

"I agree; I'll run it down and let you know."

"Thanks, Eda, take care of yourself."

"You too, cowboy…I'm sore as shit, by the way."

"Eda," I growled, remembering her arching underneath me a few short hours ago.

"What? Did you think I was ever gonna let this go? Bad move, Briggs."

I chuckled, "Yeah, deluding myself. I'll see you later. Take care, okay?"

"I will, you too."

I killed the call right before Alex knocked on the window and scared the shit out of me; I hadn't hooked the phone into the Bluetooth; it was probably the only reason I was still alive…

I popped the door, getting my breathing under control, "What's up?"

"The Captain set up a meeting with the Triads and the Colombians; they'll be here soon; she wants everyone geared up in case there's any more trouble."

"Alright, lead on."

I locked the rig up and followed him in; we threaded our way through the lobby to a back room. Suddenly I was in a gun nut's paradise; racks of weapons lined the walls, everything from AK's to belt-fed machine guns and rocket launchers… I may have drooled a little bit.

"Try not to come in your pants, hmm?"

I flipped Alex off as he grinned, "Easy for you to say. It's like I died and went to heaven."

"Grab a weapon and some ammo, body armor too."

I nodded and started walking the room, letting my hands drift over crates of ammo; I was in heaven.

I settled on a cut-down AK and a plate carrier; new plates came out of a crate and went in. I adjusted the straps to cover what it should and gave it the jump test, filling the pouches with full magazines, shoving a few in my pockets before throwing my suit jacket over everything, letting the rifle hang.

"You're starting to look like you belong here, my friend."

I smiled, "Thanks, buddy."

We headed out into the lobby that had become a flurry of activity; Alexei gestured for me to follow as Balalaika came striding down the main staircase with Boris at her side. She parted the legion of her soldiers like the Red Sea, and we fell in step behind her. Balalaika gently twirled a finger in the air, and her men formed up, watching the newcomers through the windows, a small contingent breaking off to cover her as we headed for the door.

Our guests arrived spectacularly, a fleet of SUV's pulling into the parking lot, security details fanned out professionally, covering angles and watching the rooftops. Their principals stepped out as we crossed the lot to meet them, A man in a long black coat, flanked by sharply dressed Asians that could only be Chang, the head of the Roanapur Triad, and a Hispanic dude that must've been Abrego, leader of the Colombians.

"Gentlemen, thank you for agreeing to meet with me so quickly; come, please, we have business to discuss."

Chang smiled behind his shades, speaking in clear, unaccented English, "Glad to see you're in one piece, Fry-Face; word on the street is you guys had quite the fight on your hands."

The guy was almost congenial, Abrego much less so, his eyes kept flicking over to me, and his scowl got deeper each time; I wondered just how much he knew about my involvement in his business deal going sideways. He nodded at Balalaika once Chang had finished.

"Let us discuss what we came here for and be done with it."

Her lips twitched; she looked like she was a hair's breadth away from slapping his shit, a small fire igniting behind her eyes.

"Abrego, I have called this meeting as a matter of courtesy; please attempt to be civil while you are my guest."

He flinched at the venom in her voice; when he didn't speak, she smiled, shark-like.

"Wonderful, now, if you'll follow me, please."

The Triads eyed the Colombians, and we eyed everyone as we headed back inside.

I was two steps behind Balalaika the whole way; as we approached the conference room, she threw a look over her shoulder, speaking quickly in Russian.

"Zack? You will accompany myself and the Sergeant inside; I may need your first-hand account."

"You got it. Boss"

We filed in, the majority of Chang and Abrego's details waited outside, only a token presence followed; they took their places around the massive conference table, waiting for Balalaika to sit before following suit, Boris and I remained standing, eyeing the room.

"Gentlemen, I have asked you here today to discuss a matter of grave importance; I'm sure you all heard of our recent…troubles."

Chang nodded; Abrego stayed silent, waiting for her to continue.

"Evidence has come to light that implicates the Italians; they were behind the attempt on my life and the killings of my men for reasons only they understand. They also killed several aid workers sent here to assist the people of this city, an occurrence my newest soldier can attest to."

She gestured me forward, "Mr. Briggs, the American Medic. Zack, edify our guests."

Chang smiled, "I've heard of you, good things. You have some skills, huh?"

I nodded, "Thank you, sir; I have experience on my side in that regard, to the point. What Balalaika says is absolutely correct; I found two of Verrochio's men ransacking my clinic after having killed three doctors sent here to run the operation. Under… duress, one of them revealed that his organization was behind the attack on the convoy. Their end goal was to wipe out the leadership and leave the Hotel vulnerable to other actions."

I leaned forward a bit, planting my hands on the table, "I believe, based on both the disposition and professionalism of the attack we sustained, that this is a concerted effort, as such, not something that can simply be ignored."

"This is all… very fascinating, but what does Balalaika have to say about this? I didn't come here to hear some Cabrondiscuss matters he has no business being party to in the first place." Abrego growled.

Balalaika chose that moment to cut in, "Interestingly enough, I agree with every one of his assertions. Are you going to continue to act like a child? If so, I believe it is you that has no business being party to this discussion."

Abrego looked murderous, "Did your "soldier" tell you that he was the reason I lost out on a deal? That I now have the Lovelace family breathing down my neck?"

She smiled thinly, "Tell me? My dear Abrego, I was there, I let the boy go, so if your flight is with anyone, it's with me."

The room dropped a few degrees; the Colombian's face was priceless, cycling through red-hot rage to fear in a flash.

Balalaika was smiling for real now, her eyes held a dangerous edge, seemingly enjoying the Cartel leader's mini-stroke, "Well?"

"Ahem."

All eyes snapped to Chang.

"As much fun as this is to watch, I don't think we need any more enemies made today. Do you agree, Balalaika?"

She nodded, almost grudgingly, her eyes still flashing dangerously; she was even more beautiful when she was spoiling for a fight.

Gotta get that under control.

"The point of all of this is that I am informing you of my intent, namely, that I am going to kill Verrochio and any who stand with him."

Chang leaned back, his arms tucked behind his head, "Hell, I never liked that asshole, to begin with, and you know my men won't interfere in Hotel Moscow's business. Abrego?"

Chang was trying to move this along, playing peacemaker.

Abrego seemed to be dealing with it, still livid at her insult, but he knew she could wipe his outfit off the map as sure as she was going to with Verrochio's.

"My organization…will not interfere."

Balalaika smiled evilly, "Splendid. Now, dinner?"

Chang shrugged, "I could eat."

I chuckled softly; this guy didn't shake. Then again, getting shaken up in a place like Roanapur wasn't good for one's health.

Balalaika whispered something to Boris, and he leaned my way.

"You can go, eat with the men; we'll be finished here shortly."

I nodded, "Gentlemen, it's been a pleasure." I shot a look at Balalaika, "Ma'am."

She returned my nod, and I walked out, feeling Abrego watching me the whole way; he couldn't get to Balalaika, but he might try me, sure seemed pissed enough.

I put it out of my head and kept moving.

The meeting lasted for another couple of hours, doubtless deciding what to do with Verrochio's territory.

Balalaika was like the world's most murderous socialite; she'd had a meeting sealing the fate of an entire organization catered, condemning them to death over caviar. By all rights, I should've been repulsed by her, someone I used to be a lifetime ago, would've been. Now?

Now I couldn't keep my mind off of her, that glint in her eye when she got riled, murderous, it turned me on, and I wasn't sure what to do with it. Not like I could just walk into her office and tell her what was up.

It fucking figures, ya know? After all these years, I'd end up wanting a woman that would laugh at best, shoot me at worst, if I tried anything.

I shook it off and dug into the spread, Alexei and Pyotr eating from me at the long table.

"Something on your mind?"

I looked up into Alex's face, a small grin playing across it.

Just your boss and the massive crush I seem to have on her…

I shrugged, "Nothing much, just waiting for the word, itching to get back at those Italian pieces of shit."

"You said it," Pyotr added. "For Misha."

There was some commotion over my shoulder as the Chang and Abrego departed; Balalaika walked into our humble abode moments later. We all made to rise as she entered.

"Gentlemen, keep your seats. The operation will proceed this evening; I need volunteers for overwatch."

I didn't have to think about it; I stood, "I'll go, Captain."

She nodded, "That's one."

Two more men stood up, and we had our high ground.

She ticked down the list; in short order, we had blocking positions and assault teams, she paired everyone with a spotter but me, sweeping out of the room to finalize plans with Boris, leaving us all humming with excitement and energy.

For my part? I couldn't stop thing about Fredericks, Casey, and Austin.

I settled into the hide, a room deep, watching the Italian's HQ through the scope of my rifle; guards walked the roof, completely unaware. I'd done this before in Syria; the YPJ, Kurdish female fighters, had been all too willing to teach me what Eda and Dave hadn't been able to, watching ISIS positions for hours before squeezing off that one perfect shot.

A sniper I wasn't, but I could observe and engage when I had to.

The absurdity of my situation hit me at times like these; I was a country boy from the middle of nowhere; I thought the most exciting thing that'd ever happen to me would be scoring a huge buck during hunting season, something else to talk about around the pool table on a Friday night. Now I was at the edge of the world, getting ready to kill Italian Mobsters for a Russian Mob boss using skills I'd learned on the fly in war zones all over the world. If it wasn't so deadly serious, I would've laughed my ass off.

Weird how life turns out, no?

I glanced over my shoulder; I had the back door bracketed with pieces of wood, a makeshift early warning system in case someone started crawling up my ass.

My earpiece crackled a little; I'd been here for hours along with a few of Balalaika's other shooters arranged on the far rooftops; the assault was slated to start as soon as the sun went down.

I never heard her coming; she just settled in beside me, sitting down on a crate and scaring the fuck out of me.

"Hello, Zack."

"Fuck me!"

My spotting scope almost fell off the table as I jumped, halfway out of my chair with my Glock most of the way out of my holster.

Balalaika grinned, "You left the far side wide open." She waved a bayonet at me, "I could've cut your throat any time I wanted."

How the shit?!

There was no way I left the far door unsecured.

She chuckled, "I can hear the gears turning, don't hurt yourself; a lady has to have her secrets."

I really got a look at her as my heart rate slowed down, a black watch cap was pulled low over her head, her blonde hair was braided and tucked into the collar of a field jacket, her eyes shined out of a face that had been blackened in spots.

Balalaika, the Soldier, has entered the group chat.

Was this why I didn't get paired up? Because she wanted to run with me?

It'd make sense; she wanted to see if I was consistent, I couldn't blame her.

She snagged the spotting scope and set up next to me. I returned my eye to my riflescope.

"I figured you stayed out of the field."

"I do, mostly, but some things require a personal touch. Are you accusing me of losing my edge?" I could hear the smirk.

I smiled a little, "Not at all, just surprising. Far be it from me, though. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I already checked in with the other positions; I can best orchestrate the assault from here." She answered without looking up from her scope.

"What's our timeline?"

"Soon."

I nodded, settling back in and turning on my night vision scope, lighting everything up with an eerie blue-white glow as night fell on Roanapur.

We sat there, side by side, for another hour, neither of us moving much, a gentle shift to alleviate some pressure here or there. Finally, the radio crackled to life.

"All units in position, Captain."

"Copy," she whispered, "Stand by for go."

"Roger, standing by to take perimeter sentries on your go."

She surprised the hell out of me, sliding closer, getting her spotting scope as close to me as she could, looping an arm around my shoulders. It was a sniper thing; get as close to your shooter as you could so you could see what they saw. I could smell the greasepaint she'd used to blacken her face; soft sweet hints of floral perfume drifted across the minuscule space between us.

"Take the two on the right, five hundred meters, no wind, put…five point eight on the gun, and hold center."

I reached up and turned my elevation knob as she breathed in my ear, making it a little hard to do math. I dragged my scope over to the two men; one was smoking, the other was watching South. I gently settled in my chair, and all movement stopped, other than the smooth up and down motion of my crosshairs caused by my steady breaths.

"On you," I whispered, settling my reticle over the chest of the closest man letting out a half-breath to steady myself, holding the rest, the slack slowly creeping out of the trigger.

It was soft; I almost wasn't sure I heard it at first…Balalaika was singing in Russian under her breath.

"Baby, baby, rock-a-bye….Fire."

I broke the trigger straight back.

SNAP!

"On the edge, you mustn't lie."

The bolt's cycling was louder than the suppressed shot, and down my target went with a puff of vapor. "Hit."

The arm around my shoulders gave a gentle squeeze. Another sniper tic, giving tactile assurance of a hit when words failed to penetrate the veil that fell over some when they were killing people.

She was shepherding me through killing these men… something about it was undeniably sensual, the connection we shared in the moment, her voice lulling me into a calm I didn't know I was capable of as we fed off each other.

"Or the little grey wolf will come….Second target," She whispered, her voice silky. Her breath wafted over me, and all the hairs on my neck stood up; I tracked to the second guy, who looked none the wiser as she continued to sing softly in between commands.

"And will nip you on the tum."

"On target."

"Fire."

SNAP!

His chest exploded in a spray of vapor.

"Hit."

Another squeeze.

"Tug you off into the wood…Final target, far side."

I found him.

"On target."

"Underneath the willow-root…Fire."

SNAP!

He dropped straight down; I held the scope on him for a moment, waiting for movement.

"Hit."

A squeeze.

She keyed up."Three tangos E-KIA…All teams, go."

Her arm was still wrapped around my shoulders as we watched the assault teams take down the perimeter guards with eerie precision. I checked the corners for them.

Balalaika saw it before I did.

"All teams, hold!"

A man stepped out from a side door, lighting a smoke.

"Take him." She whispered in my ear.

SNAP!

He dropped.

"Hit."

Squeeze.

"All teams, move."

I watched them stack up; the door went first, crumbling in under someone's boot, followed by a nine-banger. The muted thumps registered even from this distance as the assault team moved through their target.

"No targets. Watch the street."

"Check, on it."

She started singing again as we listened to the radio traffic; the Italians couldn't even mount a defense; goosebumps rose all over me at her soft voice as I searched for more targets.

"So close your eyes and fall asleep."

"Count the little wooly sheep."

"Tucked so tightly you must keep."

"Or he will come for you…"

The radio crackled, what felt like hours later "Fifty-two E-KIA. No friendly casualties, building clear, ex-filling now."

"Understood, excellent work, Sergeant."

She gently patted my shoulder, and it took everything I had not to kiss her right there. This woman was a warrior, a valkyrie on earth, and god did I want her, I wanted her arching under my touch, and I wanted it right goddamn now.

Self-preservation won out, and I cleared my throat, painfully aware of the shoulder still pressed against mine and her arm around me, as we watched the men pull out, hustle back to their vehicles and roar off into the night.

"Time to go," She whispered.

I could've stayed there forever. But she untangled herself from me and stood, picking up the four shell casings and stuffing them into her pockets; I joined her, breaking down the hide quickly. The job was done inside of a minute, and we made for the door; I cradled my rifle and stared at her back; no other woman alive could make fatigues look that good.

"You did well, better than I expected." She didn't look back, but I could hear the approval as we stacked on the door.

"Thanks, Boss. Sometimes I impress."

We moved through the door; I covered high, Balalaika went low as we moved into the stairwell.

"More often than not these days." She muttered.

Does she even realize she does that?

The off-handed compliments were nice, but now I wondered if her thinking was lining up with my own as I covered her blindspots. We hit the street running, and an SUV pulled up, Alexei's smiling face behind the wheel. I popped the door for her, covering the road as she climbed aboard; I bailed in after her, and Alexei floored it.

As we rolled down the street, Balalaika reached into her jacket, pulling out a cell phone, punching in numbers. She looked up, and her eyes glinted evilly.

"Cover your ears." She keyed her radio, "Six to all units, Fire in the hole, fire in the hole, fire in the hole!"

With a small smile, she hit "Send." And the Mafia HQ went up in a thunderclap that set off every car alarm for miles. A moment later, the shockwave rocked the rig, the fireball reaching hundreds of feet in the air.

"Holy shit," I breathed.

"And then there were none," Balalaika whispered.

Alexei lurched into me, gloriously plastered, "KILLED 'EM ALL!"

"URA!" Thundered off the walls.

"FOR OUR COMRADES! FOR HOTEL MOSCOW!" Someone else yelled.

"URA!" The room responded.

We were going a little overboard.

So naturally, I got in on it.

"FOR THE CAPTAIN!"

The roof damn near came off.

"URRRAAA!"

Balalaika was standing on a table, a sky blue beret perched on her head, her braided hair swung free, she'd ditched her field jacket, dressed only in her blue-striped telnyashka and fatigue pants.

I tried not to stare at the suspenders that framed her chest gloriously and failed miserably as she gestured for quiet.

"Men! Tonight you struck a blow for our comrades in arms, to the fallen! Misha! Sakharov! Mensov! And Ivanov! Tortured and killed by those cowards! We remember!"

"TO THE FALLEN!" We thundered back.

I've always loved my country; It's why my back piece was the American flag, bits of Old Glory visible at my shoulders. But right then? In the purity of that moment? Screaming words of passage for good men who had died? Borders and nations fell away.

It was beautiful.

Balalaika hopped off the table, as someone started passing a bottle, first Viktor, one of the other snipers, who took a massive slug before handing it off to Yuri, then Pyotr, and finally Alex. Balalaika parted the crowd as the bottle made its way around to me; I set my whiskey on an ammo crate and snatched the booze from Alex, pulling on the chilled rubbing alcohol.

When I came up for air, Balalaika was right in front of me, and I held the bottle out to steadily rising cheers from the assembled soldiers.

She smirked at me, shrugged, and finished it off in three deep swallows, eyeing me in an almost saucy fashion that set my heart racing—smashing the bottle on the concrete when she was done.

"URA!" She roared.

"URA!" We all echoed.

I grabbed for my whiskey; crazy bitches be smashing bottles, gotta keep my baby safe.

Balalaika raised her voice again, "This man," She pointed at me, "has backed us since his first day in the city; from then until now, he has patched our wounds and dragged us from the fire. Now he stands among us! A proud member of Hotel Moscow!"

She was winding the crowd up for something; my drunk ass was only concerned with how damn good she looked like this, all fiery wrath and leader of men, a badass down to her toes.

I had it bad for this woman. And I was just drunk enough to not give a shit about openly staring her down.

"I think it's time we welcomed him properly!"

Three guys grabbed me from behind, fight or flight kicked in as Balalaika grinned evilly, and the crowd cheered; I relaxed a little when someone gingerly pulled the bottle from my grasp and set it on a crate.

Typically if you're gonna kill a guy, you tend not to respect his booze.

A blowtorch snapped to life, and I smelled burning metal, reminding me of a shop job a lifetime ago. Balalaika advanced on me, hooking her hands into the waistband of my borrowed combat pants; I stiffened in more ways than one as she grabbed the bottom of my thin t-shirt and tugged it up over my chest, revealing my family's names over my heart, and hooking it over my face. She tapped the right side of my chest, just under my collarbone, and I heard murmured assent.

I never saw the brand coming, just a glint of red metal through the material of my shirt before it made contact with my skin, and I smelled burning meat; a second later, the pain hit, and I almost broke teeth to keep from screaming. The shirt slipped from my eyes, and I saw Balalaika holding the brand with another evil grin on her face as she marked me. A little more pain died with every passing second as she seared my nerve endings shut, and I returned her grin.

I felt electric; I felt alive.

She pulled the metal from my skin and called for a mirror; someone obliged her as I battled my whiskey and pain fueled haze.

She held it up.

Across from my heart, perfectly burned, standing out in blistering red.

H.M.

They roared for me, cheered long and loud as Balalaika dumped the smoking iron into a bucket of water someone had provided where it sizzled and popped.

My million-watt grin turned into a snarl as Alex dumped vodka over the burn.

"HYGIENE!" He roared drunkenly, laughing like a dope. Someone offered me a smoke; someone else ignited it; I pulled my shirt off, tossing it into the ether, something reminding me that I didn't want the cloth touching the wound. I grabbed my whiskey and took a long pull, my new brothers slapping my back, showing me their own brands on arms, necks, legs, one ass in a case that I couldn't unsee but left everybody cheering again.

Balalaika smiled at the chaos she created, "Enjoy men! You've earned it!"

As she turned, she shot a glance back over her shoulder, gesturing for me to follow her with a flick of her fingers. I slapped Alex on the shoulder and obeyed, chasing her out the door.

Someone started singing an off-key version of "Katyusha" as we walked out, the whole room joined in, and it was the most fantastic thing my drunk mind had ever heard.

"Welcome to my unit." She said with a beaming smile slightly drunk smile as we reached the stairs.

"Balalaika…I…Thank you."

She reached out, laying a hand on my shoulder, "We're all looking for our place in this world; yours is with us."

That simple statement leveled me, the way she said it, so matter of fact, like saying the sky was blue. I wasn't blind to the fact that I needed a place to belong, to feel that sense of family again. I'd worry about what a shrink would have to say late. Right then, I just sniffed back the tide of emotion.

She squeezed my shoulder, and I almost closed the gap. My hands twitched.

"Enjoy this celebration; you've earned the right."

I cleared my throat before I got lost in her eyes; if she noticed what I was putting myself through, she didn't show it.

"I will...Captain."

She nodded, beaming at me again.

"Goodnight, Zack."

She started up the stairs, and I watched her go, something welling up inside me, leaving my heart in my throat.

Goddamnit, I'm in love with her, aren't I?...

Shit...

A/N: A little action, a realization, and we get to see Balalaika in her element. Feedback? Criticism? Bring it on. Merry late Christmas to all!

The song Balalaika was singing: watch?v=8f8WYvAo-RA

Until next time!