Hours passed, I rotated out, and Dave rotated in, watching for our target. It had taken far too long to track him, longer still to catch him where he was vulnerable.

Langley wanted no footprint, none, so when we had eyes on Lomonosov, I would be the one to do it, because quite frankly, nothing was connecting me to anything. I had no family, no address, nothing that would label me as anything more than a mercenary if I got caught. I eyed our method of action, an auto-injector sat in a hard case, looking for all the world like an Epipen, Cyrillic all over the surface… belying its insidious cargo of fifty megs of Succinylcholine.

Lomonosov had allergies, and we were going to capitalize on it. The paralytic agent would stop his heart inside of thirty-seconds; he'd be dead inside of a minute. But I'd have to get real close; my legend was intact, I was going to play as staff and make the switch.

It had been a long few months, first had been Kiev, we'd been minutes from the shot, and he'd changed his route. Then Crimea, our contact, had fucked us, and we had to scrub. Finally, here in Dubai, the best chance we were gonna get. It'd been a rough period for me, Eda had stayed as long as she could, but if we both disappeared, that was too clean a line. We'd parted in Bangkok, the feelings between her and I more complex than ever. I'd said my piece, and she'd said hers, but the lines were blurry.

I loved Sofiya, but what was that love? Was it true? Or would it always be tainted by the fact that she'd taken me in and treated me like one of her own when I so desperately needed it? Or the intoxicating way she brought out the animal I tried to keep caged?

By the time I arrived in Dubai some six months after leaving Roanapur, I knew one thing for sure.

I was no closer to an answer.

The last night in Bangkok washed over me.

"Are you ready?" Eda asked.

I dragged on my smoke, "For what?"

"To leave? I don't know, Zack, I'm seeing that old look in your eye, and it's kinda scaring the shit out of me."

We were sitting on the balcony of my hotel room; I'd leave in the morning to start hunting down Lomonosov.

"I should've known I was doomed from the jump; you don't have a relationship with a woman like Sofiya, you survive her… I'm just pissed that I let myself hope that I could…I don't know, love again?" I spat it thoughtlessly.

The downcast look on her face when I looked up was killing me, "And then there's this," I wiggled a finger back and forth between her and I, "You know you mean the world to me, don't you?"

A hand reached across the gap, and I took it, squeezing gently; a couple of scars from where a game of five-finger fillet had gone wrong adorned her knuckles. She nodded.

"I do…and I get it, still hurts."

"Yeah… it hurts me too."

Her eyes flicked to mine, and for a moment, she was silhouetted in the neon lights; for a moment, she took my breath away… Eda was beautiful, deadly, capable of standing on her own but soft and sweet in the same breath; she was everything I wanted in a woman.

If I could get out of my own damn way, I'd have a life and a love most people only dream of.

A vision of us flashed through my mind…

A new tour every year until she got scooped for management, I'd either follow her or chart my own course…I saw a job in a Virginia hospital when she was working from Langley, nights full of love and days full of adventure, would it all be like that? No, nothing's perfect, but I had a feeling it'd be damn close.

Then Sofiya blew through my mind like the force of nature she was.

I saw us in Russia, her with her commission back and me?…

Working for the CIA and sleeping with a Russian Officer? Not a chance…My career is over there; I would fall back on medical; God knew I had enough training. I saw passion, fire….love, and lust; I saw the caged animal inside me making an appearance at her siren-like urging; she brought it, spilling out into the light whether I wanted her to or not.

And I knew, in one horrible moment, that what I needed from both of them…It was a dream… and nothing more.

"But this is the way it is, and I can't change it no matter how much I want to…"

She looked away, tears shining in her eyes…

"I don't like it," Dave whispered, snapping me out of it, "There's too much that can go wrong, You've got Russian FSO's inside, Spetz on the perimeter, and little old you in the center, so once you get in, you've gotta swap the pens, make sure the guy goes down, penetrate not one but two cordons on exfil and hope nobody sees anything? Call that a one-way trip."

I lit a smoke with a chuckle, currently suited up in my hotel uniform, "Your concern is duly noted, and thanks for the vote of confidence. OGA's got it in the bag, they paid off the manager, and I've been in and out of there for the last few weeks; I'm just the housekeeper."

"Until they make you."

"Until they make me, which they fucking won't."

Dave huffed, "Ya know if I'd have known I was going to be stuck here watching you do something like this and not be able to lift a finger to help? I'd have said fuck it and gone home."

Dave was prickly about the whole thing, and I couldn't blame him, but I checked my watch all the same, "Time for my shift. Gotta go clean the toilets of the rich and famous. Ping me if he turns up."

I was halfway to the elevator when Dave called out, "Got movement, looks like an advance team."

Excitement shot through me; I plucked my bone mic out of my pocket, sliding it all the way into my ear canal, so deep that even if they looked, they wouldn't find it.

"I'm set; comm check when I hit the lobby."

Dave flicked on his radio, "Got it, go!"

I hustled to the elevator, tapping my foot all the way down. The lobby greeted me as the doors slid open, hotel staff rushing around, waiting hand and foot on some of the richest men and women on earth.

I kept low and headed for the lobby doors.

"Blackbird Actual to Blackbird Mobile, comms are up, Big Eye is looped in."

I reached up and scratched my ear, mumbling, "Mobile copies five by five, moving to target."

"Actual copies all."

"Big Eye copies all, starting the clock, good luck Mobile."

The balmy air caressed my face as I threaded my way through the crowd, scanning the line of luxury vehicles for a set of call numbers; finding them, I hopped into the cab; the driver was one of ours and right on time.

"Salaam." I greeted him as I slid into the back

"Salaam, my friend. We are ready?"

I nodded, "Game time, Faraz, let's go."

He smiled thinly, and we pulled away from the curb. I'd always wanted to visit Dubai; this wasn't exactly how I imagined the whole thing playing out. I stared out the window as we drove, Sofiya flashing across my mind; last I'd heard out of Roanapur, they'd turtled up, barely leaving the Hotel, fielding the attacks, there was talk of a significant peace deal between Hotel Moscow and the Triads, lock the city down and sweep for anyone who wasn't a local, that had been months ago…

We crossed the gates of Jumeirah, I flashed my employee ID, and the local security guys waved us on.

"Mobile's cleared the outer perimeter. No issues." I whispered.

"Actual copies, proceed."

Faraz pulled us to the curb, and I stepped out, throwing him a few dollars to make it look real; I screwed my best customer service smile on and walked into the lobby. I caught the eye of the manager, Nair. He looked harried and a little scared, doubtless it had something to do with all the Russian security guys running around his resort or the fact that someone had paid him off, and he was starting to put the pieces together.

I called out in Arabic; English with a mid-west accent wasn't really conducive.

"Hey Mr. Nair, anything pressing?"

He shook a little as I leaned on the desk, "N-no, just our guest in twenty-five." He jerked his head at the check-in manifest.

T. Lomonosov.

I kept my face even, "I've heard of him. Has he arrived yet?"

Nair shook his head, "No, and his room still needs to be cleaned. And-"

I stretched and cut him off, "Well, I'm on early; I can handle it."

"Are you sure? Mr. Lomonosov has very exacting standards."

"So do I. No worries, Sir."

He looked a little green, but the way his eyes flicked around, he clearly wasn't looking for me. I smiled and headed for the supply closet; the auto-injector banged against my leg, reminding me of its presence. Some cleaning supplies later and I headed down the hall; Lomonosov's guys had him close to the exits, smart, but played into our hands way too easily. I keyed into the room and cleaned, humming as I went.

"Actual to Mobile, be advised, target is on property."

"Mobile copies, in position."

"And complimentary room service is on the way."

"Understood."

My blood pumped, seafood allergies seemed like a shitty way to kill someone, but if it all went smoothly, no one would be any the wiser. The door opened, and I was face to face with the man himself; I'd studied his pictures, so it wasn't a surprise. But the man's presence set my teeth on edge.

He was a little shorter than me, and every inch a greasy rich guy, from his thinning, slicked-back hair to the suit that cost more than my whole life. His dark eyes regarded me evenly as his mouth twisted into a sneer, and he addressed his guards.

"Who is this?"

I pretended I didn't understand, bowing shallowly, speaking in Arabic.

"So sorry, sir, the room will be cleaned shortly."

I'd grown out my beard and tanned up enough. Hopefully, I'd pass muster.

His guard translated, and Lomonosov scoffed, "Fine, but be quick!"

The guard stepped up and grabbed me roughly as the asshole walked over to the bed, shedding his jacket where we knew the Epipen would be and tossing it on the rack.

The pat-down was thorough, but I'd ditched the pen in the bathroom.

A soft female voice from the door announced the arrival of the second part of the plan.

Steak, impregnated with fish enzymes.

I went back to cleaning, making my way to the bathroom to retrieve the fake pen as Lomonosov flirted with the waitress, grabbing her ass as she departed. His detail checked every inch of the dish, but Langley knew their business, and he waved them off, leaving the door open so they could keep an eye on me.

I got into position, wiping the dust from the windowsill as he dug in; I was two steps from his jacket, the fake pen resting in my pocket, I reached out… he was distracted, sending a message on his phone…. My hand dipped into his jacket pocket, I pocketed the real pen and kept cleaning, waiting for a break, it came a moment later when his phone rang, everyone looked his way, and the deadly cargo slid into his pocket.

I felt like I could breathe again…

Fucking hell…

His conversation was hushed, but I could hear the sharp tone as he paced the opposite end of the suite. I kept cleaning, but my time was running out.

Lomonosov was all smiles as he hung up, making his way to the still smoking dish…My heart pounded in my chest as he sat down at the table… taking his first bite, then a second, then a third.

The effect was almost immediate; Lomonosov coughed softly and tugged at his collar.

He coughed again, an abrupt sound that was cut off by his closing throat, he reached for his jacket, and I ran to his side…had to sell it.

"Sir? Are you alright?"

The guards caught it too and were on him like lightning, shoving me away.

His eyes were wide with panic as I stared down at him. He'd pulled out the fake pen and jammed it into his leg. A heartbeat later, his eyes went vacant as the deadly drug made its way into his system.

"Is he alright?!" I shouted, letting a hysterical note slip into my voice…

Panic in a crisis, and people are a lot less likely to pay attention.

The Russians were yelling into the radio, telling everyone to converge on the room. I slipped back into the hallway, heading for the men's room… I had seconds. The door closed behind as me just as the reaction team came flying around the corner. I stepped into the stall, getting up on the toilet, hands reaching, the bag had been pre-placed by an asset above a ceiling tile… my hand closed around it after a moment's searching.

Thank God.

I changed quickly, folding my uniform as small as it would go before replacing the bag. I walked out of the bathroom, folding the collar of my button-down under my jacket.

The suit fit perfectly.

I heard someone loudly asking where the cleaner was as I made my way to the lobby; once I hit the crowd, I chanced it.

"Mobile to Actual, I pass 'Omaha.' Moving to exfil."

"Actual copies 'Omaha'." I could hear the relief in Dave's voice.

"Big Eye Copies 'Omaha', extract is en route, ETA one-five mikes."

I weaved my way through the crowd, only when I crossed the threshold to the sirens of an ambulance and the EMT's running past did I let a smile slip across my face as I broke into a jog. They'd lock the place down tight, but Faraz was right where he was supposed to be.

I climbed into the cab.

"Go."

We blew out of the gate as the place exploded to life.

Holy shit…

We did it.

I crashed into the hide after a tense ride in the elevator; Dave was already breaking it down.

"You're my fucking hero!" He laughed, ripping down the blackout curtains. I flipped the mattress, grabbing our fake passports and tossing him his.

"Jesus, I thought I was fucked!" The adrenaline pumped through me, and it came out as more of a cackle. My radio flared to life.

"Big Eye to Blackbird?"

"Go for Blackbird."

"How's your ETD?"

"Working it, Big Eye, out in ninety seconds," Dave answered.

"Copy, hustle."

The radio faded, and Dave locked eyes with me, "Well, that sounds fucking ominous."

I was stuffing my clothes into a bag, "I don't like it either. C'mon."

The cherry on top was the bleach we dumped all over everything, erasing our presence from the room; I felt for the housekeepers.

I shouldered my bag and shut the door with a gloved hand as Dave passed by me, the glove went in my pocket, and we were the fuck out.

We walked through the safehouse door; the rathole had been set up just outside the city, our evac team led the way, a couple of contractors or maybe Title 50'd D-boys, either way, they kept quiet, leading us deeper into the building and into a slapdash SCIF.

Eda was already up on video conference, a little choppy because of the weak signal, but she smiled when we walked in. "Jesus fuck, that was tense; I'm so proud of you. Our assets in place have woken the Russian President, dissemination of the evidence to every media outlet from Ukraine to the Bering Strait is underway. The Reds are scrambling."

I returned her smile, "Thanks, I was about to shit myself that whole time; I can't believe we pulled it off."

Dave reached up and ruffled my hair, "I can, no matter what he says, he was cold as ice the whole time."

Eda's eyes were suddenly grave, "There's a wrinkle here…"

I lit a smoke, my first one in a while, letting it slow me down, "I don't like the sound of that from a way off; what's up?"

Eda looked away, "Lomonosov sent a cable last night, NSA snagged a copy…He got the green light from a contact in the Wagner Group, they're on their way here to Roanapur. Couple hundred guys and supporting elements."

I felt the color run out of my face.

"They're going to attack Roanapur?"

She nodded, "The order's been given. He told them to wipe the city clean, Hotel Moscow, Triads, any nickel and dime unit, everyone."

"What's our move?" Dave asked.

I glanced over at him, a little shocked, "You're still in?"

He grinned, "My boy needs my help? Yeah, I'm in."

I felt a rush of gratitude, "Hell yeah, son."

Eda smiled, "Well, Langley wants the foothold, plus…fuck the Russians."

Dave and I both nodded, 'Fuck the Russians' was pretty universal.

She continued, "I've got SAD Officers on the way; you guys are going in advance; we need to get the heads of the major outfits together." She must've seen the look on my face because she raised a hand, "I'll handle Chang and Balalaika, Zack, you and Dave are here as my backup and to show the Ground Branch boys around the neighborhood. We're gonna need everything we have here if we're gonna beat them."

"When do we leave?"

"Immediately, your extraction team is gonna get you to a strip. We've already got Air Branch guys coming to pick you up. You can gear up in the air."

I nodded, trying to speak around the lump in my throat, "We'll be there; see you soon, Blackwater."

She blew a kiss at the screen, smiling, "Can't wait."

The screen went black, and I sighed explosively, "Holy fuck!"

Dave leaned against the wall, "You ain't kidding."

"They're going to attempt a full-scale assault…makes me wonder what's got them so confident…"

"Well, until an hour ago, they had a Russian politician in their pocket."

I paced a little until I remembered where we had to go and what lay ahead of us.

"Well, they're fucked, whether they know it or not. Let's go."

Dave smiled, "On you, man, let's get it done."

After a quick stop in Bangladesh to refuel, my leg bounced as we cruised along at thirty-six thousand feet above Myanmar. The Air Branch boys didn't skimp on comfort, and the brand new Learjet 85 was the pinnacle, plush leather seats and Agency modified to the hilt. Dave sat across from me, talking to his wife in hushed tones; I knew Kathy wasn't happy just from the look on his face.

I had other things on my mind.

Like being back in Roanapur again, a stone's throw from her…

My hands shook, so I loaded magazines, when that was done, I checked my gear, then I cleaned my rifle…

Twice.

"Kat, I'm sorry, I promise that I'll be home soon…I love you too…So much. Give the boys a hug and a kiss for me, okay?… Okay…Bye, baby."

He killed the call with a sigh.

"Everything okay?" I couldn't tear my gaze away from the window.

"Yeah, she's just having flashbacks to every rotation I ever pulled; the poor thing has a lot of sleepless nights under her belt."

I lit a smoke; at least it gave me something to do.

"I'm sorry, Dave."

"For what?"

I looked over at him; he looked genuinely confused.

"For dragging you into this, back to the life you left and with good reason."

"At ease that shit, I came back because you mean the world to my family and me. Kat understands that; she just doesn't want me coming home in a box, which, given what we're walking into, is a pretty good bet."

I shook my head, "AB boys will take you home, Dave; there's no good reason for you to be here."

His face hardened, anger darkening his features, " 'No good reason?' Try ten fucking years; you know the rules as well as I do. I'm here for the duration."

I ran a hand through my hair, upset that I'd pissed him off, "Fair, I appreciate ya, brother."

His face softened, "Everyone needs help, kid; I didn't pull you outta that hole just to desert you."

I nodded, my argument losing steam, "Thanks, man, I'll make it count."

He grinned, "You fuckin' better, or I swear on my kids. I'll haunt your ass."

I couldn't help the chuckle that spilled out of me, "Fair enough."

Dave was quiet for a moment, looking like he was chewing on something.

"How're you faring with it?"

I knew what he meant from a mile off.

"I don't know, man, just dealing."

"Horseshit."

Now my anger flared a little, "Fuck, fine, I'm a wreck, the fight is easy, either we die, or we don't, win or lose. But this shit between Sofiya and I? That's terrifying, this shit with Blackwater and I? That scares me too.

I sighed; the sadness worming into my bones.

"Because at the end of the day, I don't think I'm good for them, nevermind the fact that Sofiya would sooner shoot me in the face than listen to anything I have to say.

I leaned back, feeling more and more hopeless by the second.

"And Eda? If I took her up on the offer, I'd spend the rest of my life reminded of Roanapur and Sofiya; she spent too long competing with ghosts. We're too close for me to put her through that, period."

Dave just listened as I ran out of steam.

"Zack…I love ya, man, but what the fuck over?"

"What?"

"You're a great guy, but fuck if you don't get wrapped around the axle easily."

I snorted, "The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"You forgot how to get close, how to let people in, blind men could see it. Now that you've come out of hiding, you're letting the newfound feelings overwhelm you, and it's really fucking hard to watch."

I lit another smoke, "I'm not trackin'."

"Think about it like this; you went from being as alone in this world as a man can be, to working with me, step up, right?"

I nodded, and he continued.

"Now you found love; brilliant, circumstances got in the way, that's bad for most, but you? It's so much worse because most of your frame of reference comes from the tragic loss of good things. Following?"

I nodded again.

"So, you've got this crisis, and it seems like the end of the world, but really? It's a speed bump. If you can patch things up with Sofiya, bitchin', but if you can't, don't hide from what Eda has to offer; you're not putting her second, you're learning to love again. We've all done it, don't be alone forever out of some fucked up sense of nobility. You could apply the same argument with any other woman you might meet, 'They'll never be Sofiya,' how long did you barely live because 'They'll never be Angie?' "

He fucking had me.

And I didn't like it.

"I don't know if it'll be that easy for me, ever."

"It doesn't have to be, but don't deal in absolutes, let it come as it does."

I leaned back into the plush leather, "Fucking hell, why does it sound so simple when you say it?"

He grinned, "Because I've got about fifteen years on you, been there and back twice. You might think I'm a holy-roller, but just because my relationship with God is strong, that doesn't mean I'm a saint. I've loved, lost, and everything in between. You can take my advice, or don't, all I'm saying is that you don't have to lose your mind over it, shut down and live in the woods, pining away."

I could see the sense, but the anxiety was strong.

"I'll mull it over; I appreciate you saying all that; it helped." And I meant it.

He nodded and slapped my knee, "Good, now get your fuckin' head on straight because this is gonna be a tough one."

I was about to answer when the pilot's voice came over the wire.

"Fifteen minutes, guys, transport is ready and waiting on the ground."

I felt the plane begin to dip, and I threw my plate carrier on while Dave did the same, all Crye gear, courtesy of Uncle Sam. I held my rifle across my lap, looped under my seatbelt as we continued our descent, checking and re-checking my 1911, making sure the electrical tape I'd wrapped the grip safety with was still secure, the M79 grenade launcher went into a scabbard on my back and a bandoleer of forty-mike grenades looped over my shoulder. I clipped my helmet onto my belt and ran a hand through my longish hair, trying to steady myself.

In what seemed like no time at all, the plane bounced gently, the tires skidding as we made contact with the runway.

And just like that…

I was home.

We rolled to a stop, the pilot, an older dude with greying hair, popped the door for us.

The smell of salt water, the crying of gulls, the goddamn humidity, it all greeted us as we hustled down the steps. I chanced a look to the West, and there it was... the giant Buddha statue. I almost pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. A blacked out Suburban sat on the tarmac. I caught sight of the Ground Branch boys, all looking real mean before somebody jumped me.

Eda's perfume wafted into my nostrils as soft arms wound around my neck.

"Hey, Briggs," She whispered into my shoulder.

"Hey, Blackwater," I squeezed her tighter, "Missed you."

"I missed you too…"

One of the guys cleared his throat loudly, and she jumped back, blushing to her ears.

"Sorry… Zack Briggs, Dave Mason, meet 'Whiplash': Scotty Parker, Tucker Mills, and Mike Kelly."

They nodded and smiled as she introduced them; we all shook hands in turn, exchanging some pleasantries.

"I hear you're quite the jack of all trades, Briggs." Kelly shot with a grin.

I smiled, "That's me, boss, plus I make a mean omelet."

We all chuckled.

Eda just shook her head, "Alright, you fuckin' goons, mount up, we've got a meet to get to."

"Let's get evil," Dave said with a smile.

"Fuckin' A," Mills answered.

"Hell yeah." Parker echoed.

We hustled to the vehicles, Eda slid in next to me, and we were rolling. I pushed my Oakleys up on my forehead, staring out the window. A hand slipped into mine; I could feel her warmth even through my gloves.

"How're you doing?" Eda whispered.

"Better than I expected, not gonna lie, it's bizarre being back. What's the plan?"

"We have a meet set between Chang and Balalaika; neither was ready to cooperate… until I showed them the container ships steaming this way."

I raised an eyebrow, "You burned yourself?"

She shook her head, "No, I told them we'd come by the information through our connections, which is why I won't be with you; Langley wants me ready to stay and play once this is over. Morris is on-site and will take the lead; you guys are going in to show them we mean business."

I nodded, going back to watching the street; the clinic blew by as we turned onto Phahurat, still boarded up, Kelly hit the gas, and we blew through red lights.

I could already see the Hotel and my heart sped up.

Fuck I wasn't as ready for this as I hoped…

We pulled up to the curb a few blocks away, and Eda hopped out, "Good luck boys," She darted forward and kissed me on the cheek.

"You especially, I'm gonna go clue Lagoon in on what's up…See you at the Church."

I nodded, smiling despite the meltdown I was having, "Stay safe, Blackwater."

She gave me one last smile before heading for her little beater parked across the street.

Kelly watched her go before giving me a look that I couldn't place, Mills too. There were questions there.

I didn't have time as I dropped my shades, pulling my mask up over my face; everyone else followed suit, no need to advertise.

We rolled in past stone-faced guards; I recognized Yuri and Vic…it hurt a little to see my old friends; I was almost glad that Alex and Pyotr weren't around to see this mess.

Almost.

Morris stood next to his ride, flanked by two of the boys, Sergei and Valentin.

"Game time," Kelly whispered.

I nodded, pretty sure we were talking about two different things.

"Yeah."

We pulled to a stop and bailed, fanning out, Morris gave us the nod, and we headed in. Each step brought me closer and closer to turning tail and running. I tightened my grip on my rifle and locked it up as we ascended the short staircase into a lobby that was buzzing with activity; 14 K were milling around, fingers on triggers; opposite them stood two full squads of the boys, armed and ready.

"Full house," I muttered.

Morris nodded as we walked, whispering, "And then some, glad you made it Briggs."

"I'll get back to you."

Sergey and Valentin sped up, pushing the door open to the massive conference room where I'd stood, and explained the whole shebang to Chang and Abrego all those months ago.

Chang was already seated, and I let a little sigh of relief slip out of me… Balalaika was nowhere to be seen.

"Looks like 'The Man' has arrived," Chang quipped.

Morris smiled, answering him in Mandarin; Chang laughed.

"Fair enough."

The door opened, and my heart stopped.

Boris was first in, checking the room; she was close behind and holy shit.

Her blonde hair was back in the braid she wore when there was work to be done, blue eyes calmly regarded the room, she'd ditched the suit for a full set of fatigues, and man did she make them look good. The scars across her face made her so beautiful it hurt.

It was like getting hit by a freight train as I moved to the corner, watching the room as everyone stood.

"Gentlemen, please keep your seats; our guest has a few words."

Everyone on the Triad side of the room grumbled until Chang held up his hand and nodded at Balalaika.

Morris stepped up and cleared his throat, "Thank you, both of you, for agreeing to meet with us. I'm certain by now you've been made aware of the force that is bearing down on this city. I, and my men, are here to offer our assistance."

"Carrot or Stick?" Chang cut in.

Morris smiled, "All carrot, Mr. Chang, The United States government wishes to see operations in Roanapur continue as they have, unmolested by the outside world."

Balalaika interjected, "So you offer to save us from a force that we are more than capable of defeating on our own, and then simply walk away and leave us to our affairs? Forgive my skepticism."

Morris nodded, "That is exactly what I am proposing. Truthfully? We like you guys right where you are. The less trouble you cause the outside world, the better. But have no illusions, Captain, I'm bringing a lot more to the table than the men I have with me. My Agency is in this to win it and on your own? There's no way to beat these guys; they're all ex-Special Operations soldiers, they have three separate container ships, two of them carry vehicles and equipment, one carries almost eight-hundred men, the bulk of whom are combat-oriented, they are bringing the bare minimum of support staff. Their goal is simple, to wipe the city clean, now the orders were to spare the civilians, but these are the same guys that went into Crimea and Syria; restraint isn't in their vocabulary."

Her gaze was even; Chang was nodding as she lit a cigar; she regarded it for a moment before cursing under her breath, "What are your terms?"

Morris spread his hands wide, "Accept our help; when this is over, we leave you to your business."

"Just like that?" Chang asked.

Morris nodded, "Just like that."

I felt it then, someone was watching me. I glanced around, and Balalaika… Sofiya was staring me down like I owed her money and an apology. I couldn't keep up my little mental game in the face of her stare, part anger, part something else. I realized then that I had rolled my sleeves up out of habit; she knew my ink better than anyone in the room; of course, she'd pick up on it.

I did the only thing I could and stared right back, lost in her eyes, my body heating up even in the chilled room until she spoke.

"I believe we have an agreement, Mr. Chang?"

He nodded, "I'll never say no to more guns; let's smoke these fucks."

The door behind us opened, and I spun away from Sofiya to see some new arrivals.

Fifty men at least, led by an older dude, I put him at late-fifties or early sixties, wearing a full Russian Army uniform and a sky blue-beret, his insignia put him somewhere around a General Officer.

Sofiya stood, probably out of habit, a look on her face that I couldn't read.

When the newcomer spoke, it was in a booming voice, "Captain Pavlovena? Men of the 137th Guards Airborne? I am General Asimov, Acting Commanding Officer. Moscow has sent me to extend a hand in your time of need, Captain? May I ask you to stand front and center?"

Sofiya stepped off without a word, striding across the room to post in front of the General.

"What can I help you with, sir?"

"I've come to bring you and your men home."

No one on the Hotel Moscow side so much as breathed.

Sofiya looked like she was about to pass out, "Come again, sir?"

"He reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder, "Timofey Lomonosov was killed, better than he deserved; the evidence of his betrayal was spread far and wide; no doubt the Americans had a hand in it. The President and the Prime Minister agree, your unit was wronged by a man who sought only to increase his own wealth and power… and the Motherland lost a unit of her finest, unjustly. Once this action has concluded, I have been authorized to return you to Moscow, with full pardons for your alleged crimes, reinstatement if desired, and full pensions for the families of the men you lost here. We take care of our own, Captain."

No one spoke, no breathed, CIA, Triads, Russians, we all held our breath, waiting for her response.

When the smile finally broke across her face, it was like the rising sun, almost blinding in its intensity; when she turned to address her men, her voice was thick with emotion.

"Well, men, what do we say to the good General? Shall we go home?"

The roof nearly came off at their thunderous cries of assent, longs years of survival, facing enemies from all sides in a desperate battle to live after they'd been abandoned.

Sofiya turned back to Asimov, beaming, her eyes almost looked like they were glistening, "I believe you have your answer, sir."

Asimov smiled, "Then, let us kill the traitors and bring you back to where you belong, Captain. How can we help?"

"Extra hands are welcome; we will be setting up defensive positions with the help of our American friends."

She was so radiant at that moment; it took all I had not to go to her and wrap her in my arms, any outlet for the raging joy that was running through me.

But I wasn't suicidal.

Asimov nodded, and I could see Chang's normally unflappable exterior crack a bit at the news that he would be running the city unopposed, a grin splitting his face.

Morris stepped up and introduced himself to Asimov, gesturing at us over his shoulder.

Then she looked at me, through me, my gloved hand moved, reaching for the gaiter covering my face. She watched me with the same intensity I'd come to love.

There would be no time for anything now, but something wild inside me wanted her to know I was there, that I came back, that I did everything only to lay it at her feet, and offering of redemption for my personal goddess.

With a whisper of cloth, my face was exposed; I reached up and pushed my Oakley's back. We stared at each other for a long moment. Lightning arcing between us, and it got tough to breathe.

I barely saw her nod, something flashing across her face, her hands twitched at her sides, and I didn't know if she wanted to reach for a weapon or cross the room and give everyone a show. The silent exchange was short.

I owe you an apology.

I raised an eyebrow.

You think?

She looked at Asimov then met my gaze again, questioning this time.

You did this?

I nodded, barely, and lifted a finger off my rifle, pointing straight at her.

For you.

I waved it in a circle.

And for them.

Her hands twitched again, her whole body tensing, her eyes slowly widening.

She might as well have been screaming.

Morris shook the General's hand. I pulled my mask back up, and it was all business again.

They parted, The General snapping off orders to his men, Morris twirled his finger in the air, and we moved around him. I could've stared into her eyes forever, but we had work to do.

"Alright boys, we need to help where we can; primary is getting the port secured, they'll have to dock there, and we want surprises waiting for them. Pre-placement of targeting beacons for drones, we have eighteen hours, Briggs? Mason? You run with Whiplash; Kelly will have OPCON until otherwise dictated; once you place the beacons, we rally at the Rip-Off Church to brief for the next phase. Kelly?"

"Yeah, boss?"

"Got everything you need?"

"Good to go."

Morris smiled evilly.

"Then let's toss these rat fucks back into the sea."

A/N: Holy shit, that was an ordeal. I purposely made Lomonosov's death almost a non-event; Zack doesn't have the same investment level that Balalaika would have. Plus, in real life, you don't always get the chance to snap off a one-liner. But now we have a fight on our hands' boys and girls, and there will be plenty of opportunities for all the characters we love to shine.

Let the battle for Roanapur begin!

R&R, let me know what you think!

Until next time!