"In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of every glove that laid him down
Or cut him 'til he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains"
— The Boxer, Simon & Garfunkel
It had been building for a few days, this feeling. Booker was gone, for reasons Nile could understand but still didn't agree with, and yet she'd followed the trio of hurting immortals into the unknown.
Well. Mainly immortals.
Well. Unknown to her anyway.
Nile couldn't name where it came from exactly, this frustration bubbling in her chest, just under her fingernails, behind her eyelids. All she knew was that she staggered to the bathroom in the morning and yelled every cuss word she knew, one right after the other. And she knew a lot of them.
"Andy!" she shouted, stomping out her fury, only to see Andy eating an apple and reading a magazine with no cares in the world.
It only enraged Nile further. "You mean I am going to have my period for the rest of eternity?"
Confusion flashed over Andy's face and then an eyebrow quirk and a smirk. "Yep." She took another bite of apple.
Nile threw her hands in the air. "What the fuck, Andy? You couldn't warn a girl?"
"Oh, sorry, was that not in the Immortal Orientation packet? My mistake."
Nile put her hands on her hips, breathing through her nose, trying to calm down.
"I don't know what you're so upset about," Andy said, going back to her magazine. "There are tampons now."
If that was supposed to make her feel better, it didn't. "Does this mean I can get pregnant too?" Nile asked.
"Could you before?" Andy asked, flipping a page.
"What...I don't know!"
Andy arched an eyebrow at her magazine. "Then I don't know either, do I?"
Nile counted to ten in her head. She knew that Andy was actually reaching the end of her patience despite her uncaring demeanor, but who the hell else was she going to ask? Nile muttered a few more choice curse words.
"How does that even work?" she grumbled, pulling on her coat. "You only have so many eggs. Do they regenerate or something?"
Andy chewed her apple. "Finally, someone asking the real questions."
Nile bit down on her irritation. "I'm going out. I need some air. And, apparently, some tampons."
It was raining when she left, because of course it was. The Delta safehouse was in Italy and Nicky and Joe had disappeared as soon as they hit the border, rattling on in Italian and sighing rapturously. It was annoying. Everything was annoying, actually. Nile pushed through the rain, hands in her pockets, and finally found a gas station. She grabbed a small box and offered the attendant the last few crumpled American dollars from her pocket with an apologetic grimace. He rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded derogatory in any language, and stuffed the bills in his pocket. She frowned at him but pocketed her purchase and headed back into the rain.
She took her time on the way back, knowing she'd need to talk to Andy about money. Unlike some people, she didn't have safe houses with stacks of random currencies of cash, let alone a bank account, or a driver's license, or any way to get any of those. Once again, she was reminded how alone she was, and how reliant she was on people who were essentially strangers.
The rain was coming down harder, people hurrying by with umbrellas and huddling under awnings. She walked past a crowded bus stop shelter and saw someone dart out in front of her.
Nile didn't really register that it was a child, at first. Just a short blur of blue rushing for the street, and time slowed down. The bus wouldn't have been able to stop in time, even if it had seen the kid, which was doubtful. She reached for them anyway.
She was too late. She knew it before her hand reached the fabric of their coat. She couldn't pull the kid back far enough to clear the bumper, not by a long shot, but she had to try. She was the only one who could. She turned to put her body in between the kid and the bus. Then she braced herself.
It was an explosion. She knew it was a bus, but it felt like a landmine. She flew, cursing the fact that she got immortality out of the deal and not speed or strength or wings. Dorian Gray was a tragic character, not a superhero. She at least wished it didn't have to hurt so goddamn much.
She didn't know how far she flew, only that she landed on concrete somewhere, and the kid was nowhere in sight. A high sob escaped her as her bones knit back together, the relief of pain not enough to compensate for the original shock of it. Fuck, it hurt.
She could hear people talking. Voices surrounded her and she felt a moment of panic as she opened her eyes and felt everyone staring. She saw their horrified looks, hands over mouths, and then she saw the phones. Almost every person had their phone out, camera on, watching her ribs rearrange themselves over her mending organs.
Fuck.
Nile curled in on herself and gave an exaggerated moan, but her words were real. "Please, God. Help me," she said, closing her eyes and wanting it all to go away.
She kept them shut until the sirens announced a paramedic team's arrival. They asked her questions in frustratingly good English as they loaded her onto a cart. She groaned a lot and implied she was bleeding internally, coughing weakly as they rushed her into the ambulance. She still couldn't see the kid.
It didn't take long at the hospital for them to declare her miraculously unharmed, and not long after that for someone in a military uniform to show up.
Fuck.
She tried to remember how Andy had gotten her out of the military last time, but all she remembered was a brunette hurricane moving too fast to track, incapacitating men she'd seen take down soldiers half their age.
She tried. She didn't want to hurt anyone, but she kept hearing "locked box" and "experiments," and knew she had to get out, no matter what. But she should have known better. She should have known that soldiers weren't lone wolves, that there was a whole pack waiting, and she got a tranq dart for her troubles. But as the lights dimmed and she slumped into unconsciousness under a pile of an entire damn unit, she thought Andy would have been proud of the effort.
Her eyes opened in the dark, and she wasn't surprised by her eyes opening anymore, not so much, but she wasn't expecting to see the slightly damp rock ceiling of a cave above her.
She turned her head to find Andy watching her. She was cutting something and returned to it as soon as Nile met her eyes. She did not look proud.
"Thank you," Nile finally said, even though she knew Andy didn't want it. She just didn't have any other words.
Andy only grunted and said, "You're fucking heavy, you know that?"
Nile sat up, looking around. She had no idea how long she'd been asleep, what day it was, or where she was. She opened her mouth to ask, then realized that it really, truly, did not matter. Weekends were a social construct. She had nowhere to be, nothing expected of her, and no one who cared if she lived or...lived.
"Hey," she said, straightening, "what happened to the kid?"
"Dead," Andy said flatly.
It knocked the air out of her. "...What?"
Andy looked up. "He got hit by a bus, Nile. One body in between his and the bus didn't really make a lot of difference, ya know?"
Nile slumped down against the cool rock, not sure what she was supposed to be feeling right now. She was sort of numb, and maybe that was the best option. "I shouldn't have tried," she said miserably, mostly to herself. "It was stupid."
Andy, to her surprise, stopped what she was doing and looked at her. "I know what you want me to say," she said after a few moments. Her voice was tight with anger. "You want me to tell you that every life is sacred, especially a child's. You want me to tell you that it's our job to never stop trying to save them." She stood slowly, and Nile could see a smear of blood along the hemline of the tank top she'd been wearing that morning. She wondered how many people she'd made bleed just to get her out.
"I'm not going to say any of that," Andy continued. "And you know why. You know that not everyone can be saved; you knew that long before you met me. And yes, it was fucking stupid to try, and you know why. You were seen, you were caught, and all for one human who didn't know better than to run in front of a goddamned bus."
She wasn't calm anymore, and Nile couldn't meet her eyes.
"Cameras, Nile. Doctors. Records, and rumors, and you have done more today to put us in danger than Booker ever did."
Her voice broke on his name and Nile knew it still hurt even if she wouldn't say it.
"I'm sorry," Nile murmured, and she meant it. "It won't happen again."
"It cannot happen again," Andy announced. "And now we are leaving, just as soon as I can find Joe and Nicky, and we are going somewhere a lot less accommodating than Delta house. So I hope you enjoyed the amenities, like tampons, while you had access to them."
Nile reached for her pocket automatically, having completely forgotten the reason she'd gone out in the first place. Her fingers closed around nothing. She wanted to cry, wanted to punch something, but she knew it wouldn't be met with sympathy. And it only made her feel even more childish. She took a deep breath.
"What can I do to help?"
Andy looked at her flatly. "You've done enough."
They didn't carry phones, so they just had to wait. Although, before long, Joe and Nicky turned up, laughing and leaning on each other. They looked happy, or happier, at least, which seemed impossible. They also had In-N-Out, which seemed impossible as well, but Nile fell on it anyway.
"Mmh, my god," she groaned around a mouthful of hamburger. "This is so much better than I remember."
Joe laughed at her and Nicky tilted his head in that way he had, but they all joined her in a circle around the fire. Even Andy ate, and watching her munch on a burger wrapped in greasy paper, Nile reminded herself that Andy was basically an eldritch ancient god.
"What's the best food you remember," she asked Andy. Surely if you're sitting next to a living history book, you should at least flip through it from time to time.
Andy just shook her head, rearranging the food in her mouth before swallowing. "It all runs together after a while. You can't tell one thing from the other."
Nile deflated, disappointed, but Joe burst out laughing and Nicky muttered a low string of Italian, glowering at the fire.
Andy's eyes sparkled and Nile glanced between them, realizing she was, once again, missing out on an inside joke. But since it wasn't aimed at her, she let their easy camaraderie wash over her, well aware of the need to earn her place in the group.
Well, she certainly hadn't made any progress on that today. A fresh wave of shame washed over her as she realized Joe and Nicky knew of her mistake and were just being polite in not mentioning it.
She felt Nicky looking at her and when she met his eyes, he looked apologetic. "Andy can tell you where baklava was made just by tasting it. From anywhere in the world."
Nile blinked. Andy seemed humble, and for some reason Joe was smiling fondly at Nicky, but she realized she was being let in on the joke. She smiled.
"Only baklava?" she teased. "After all the time you've had? Shouldn't you be able to do at least a seven-course meal by now?"
Nicky laughed, long and loud, throwing his head back. He said something in Italian to Joe and Andy shook her head, her lips twitching.
"Sure, kid. Next seven-course meal is on you though."
Nile opened her mouth to ask about money, and froze at the unmistakable sound of a cell phone ringing.
Andy got up and dug a phone out of a pile of coats, answering it on speaker.
"Copley," she said by way of greeting.
"Well, that didn't take long," came his cheery accent and frown echoing off the walls. "How you managed to keep yourselves clear for as long as you did is beyond me."
Andy hummed. "Last time we had a new fish, cameras hadn't been invented yet. That's how."
Nile flushed and looked at her shoes.
Copley continued. "I have a solution to your social media problem, but it's fairly low brow and won't work more than once. You must be more careful in the future."
"We will." Andy hung up without saying goodbye and gave Nile a look.
This was going to be a long immortality.
"Well," Joe said slowly, walking over to a table against the wall of the cave, "if you won't use a sword, you're still going to need a melee weapon of some kind."
Nile stood in the middle of the cleared dirt floor of the cave and scoffed. "Swords are fine for you guys, but I'm from Chicago. I can't be rolling up looking like a damn pirate."
Nicky nodded sarcastically. "Yes, all of your friends would think you look very uncool."
Nile rolled her eyes.
"Pick something that speaks to you," Joe said encouragingly.
Nile perused the various weapons on the table, only a few of which she could name, and those only because she'd binge-watched Forged in Fire once when she had the flu. There were a lot of blades, many of which were affixed to long poles and leaning against the wall. She curiously handled a large hooked one.
"Those are good for enemies on horseback," Nicky mused. Nile put it back.
She almost didn't see the pesh-kabz dagger hiding under a broadsword. Even then, she didn't know what it was called. But the shape of its long, slender blade was unforgettable, and, well, Joe had said to pick something that spoke to her. This one said a lot.
Joe gave her a look. "Are you sure?" he asked, not unkindly. "I will make you live it, and I will make you love it."
She looked at it again, remembering the lightning hot slide of it against her neck. "I'm sure."
Joe shrugged with his face. "Okay." He picked up a similarly sized blade for himself and walked back to the open area in the middle. "Daggers are double-edged, so…"
Joe was a good teacher. He was patient, and Nile supposed that came with the immortal territory, but he also cracked jokes just as she was getting frustrated.
"Ah, Nicolo," he said, shoving her dagger out of the way. He aimed a slice at her ribs she only barely sidestepped. "You remember when you were trying out nunchucks for a few years?" He chuckled as Nile caught her breath. "He was terrible. And they are not very effective against guns."
Nicky spoke up from behind them. "You are not allowed to lie to her, Yusuf. You're the one who was so obsessed with nunchucks."
Joe made a thinking face, even as he lazily parried Nile's blow. "Are you sure? That doesn't sound right to me."
He also didn't stop just because she was tired or thirsty or got cut on accident. And eventually she realized this wasn't just hand-to-hand combat training like she'd gotten in the Marines. This was training on how to do hand-to-hand combat while being immortal. They were showing her how to use her healing abilities to her advantage.
"Person behind you? Only one thing in the way of killing them," Joe grinned. "You get stabbed? Hey, free knife."
Nicky, on the other hand, was precise in his movements and his speech, as if words were precious and he only got so many. Nile found herself listening closer when he talked and asking questions before taking any kind of action. He was even more patient than Joe, his eyes kind when she got hurt, waiting for her to heal before he continued.
"You must stop The Flinch, yes? To act without thinking, you already know because of training and practice. This is no different. You must be able to stop a blade with your hand, even if the blade goes through your hand. Yes? Good. Once you learn to stop The Flinch, you must learn to lean into it. Then you can use this when the enemy will least expect it."
Andy, of course, had no patience. She used zero words, expected zero questions, and taught you how you fucked up by hitting you really hard. And naturally, hers was the approval Nile needed.
"Stop pulling your punches, Nile," she spat out. "You can't hurt me."
Nile gritted her teeth and didn't contradict her.
Finally, "It's late," Andy said, barely breathing hard while Nile was forcing her shaking muscles to listen to her. "Get some sleep. We ship out tomorrow morning."
The pesh-kabz felt like a lump of sweaty metal in her hand, and she didn't love it. Nile massaged her scalp between her braids and wished for her mother's hands in her hair. A wave of despair washed over her, heightened by her frustration and exhaustion, and she turned away from the other three and curled up on the ledge she'd been on before.
She listened to them get ready for bed, soft whispers from Joe and Nicky after they'd all settled in, and squeezed her eyes shut.
She was a realist, she told herself. She'd always prided herself on her practicality and the ability to be logical in a tight situation. It was how she'd been promoted over her peers, how she'd pulled her brother out of the shit he'd been into, how she'd stayed out of it herself. But this...
Nile took a deep breath and tried to relax. It wasn't going back to "normal." Not now, not ever. She knew that, and she accepted it. She would even work on fitting into this new normal. But some things she had to mourn, and she didn't know how you got over losing your family. Especially when that loss had been a choice.
Booker had told her not to go back, and she hadn't known him, but the regret in his face was easy enough to believe. He was trying to save her pain, and she hoped he was right. Because this fucking hurt. She'd had a chance, one chance, to see her mom and brother again, and for better or worse, she'd thrown in with this group instead. And there was no going back now.
Her dad's funeral was a blank for her. When she thought about it, she could only remember the things people told her about it. It had been warm that day, the tent set up at the cemetery to ward off the sun. The service had been well-attended, lots of tears, the 21-gun salute deafening. But she only remembered the weeks afterwards, her mom crying, boxing up his things and giving them to her aunt and uncle. She remembered asking her mom why they'd gotten a headstone if he wasn't really in there. Her mom hadn't answered.
She hoped her mom would be okay. She hoped her brother would be there to hold her up instead of getting pulled down himself. She knew they would mourn, maybe even curse the military that had taken two of their family members, but life went on. Right? Even with one more headstone marking nothing.
The next morning she woke to movement and jerked awake, hand reaching for a weapon and landing on the dagger. She registered that first, the longer heft of it strange in her grip. If Andy noticed, she didn't say anything, just moved around the other end of the cave, lit only by the small fire she'd rekindled. Nile sat watching her move, her easy grace and nonchalance, whether in taking down six armed men or packing, and Nile sat up a little straighter.
"Where are you going?"
Andy glanced at her as she shrugged into a coat. "Supplies."
"I'll go with you," Nile said, standing.
Andy stopped like she didn't understand, a half laugh on her lips. "I'll be fine, Nile."
Nile wasn't laughing. "Yeah, well," she said, pulling on her jacket and smoothing her hands down her jeans. She tried to find the words that would make an ancient being understand. "I know there's nothing new for you, but I woke up to a world where all the stuff I knew, even basic stuff, is now invalid. I don't know how to get supplies. I don't have money, or know how to get any. I don't know how to buy a plane ticket without ID. I don't—"
"You're not coming with me, kid."
"But—"
"Nile. Your face is all over the internet right now," she continued, just as the penny dropped and Nile realized what she was saying. "Copley hasn't given us an all-clear, and we're already on the run. I can't have you—"
"Alright," Nile said, a little too forcefully. "I understand."
Andy's lips tightened but she nodded. "Just sit tight," she said, not unkindly. "And you've got time. Just keep your eyes open and you'll learn."
Nile sighed and sank back onto her scratchy blanket. Joe was looking at her with a small smile as he folded and packed his things. Nile rolled her eyes and left the cave to pee.
The plane tickets were not actually necessary, as it turned out. Andy apparently had a pretty good handle on drug runners, and the four of them hitched a ride on a semi-stable looking plane with a guy who spoke only...Portuguese? Maybe? It was a long flight and no one seemed interested in telling her where they were going so she didn't ask.
When they landed, Andy sneered at the man even as she handed him a wad of bills Nile wasn't familiar with, and Nile shouldered a bag Nicky indicated. She didn't want to know what was in it.
They stopped at another one of Andy's drop places, this time a small cabin in the woods with no electricity or running water.
Andy pulled a jewelry box out of a closet and said, "When you have extra cash, invest in some jewelry. Nothing too expensive, but definitely quality, and bonus points if it's tacky and 'in style', whatever that means for the time. Then every century or so, you can cash in."
She showed Nile the box, filled with necklaces, some of them still with a small handwritten price tag attached.
"Jewelry? Really?" Nile questioned.
"Yep," Joe said. "Everything else gets questions. Jewelry is always easy to say you found in a box and always increases in value."
Nicky scoffed. "Didn't you find some garbage piece with a scorpion on it, and it sold for a million dollars or something a few years ago?"
Joe laughed. "You could get lucky someday too, my love."
Nicky softened and said something in Italian, and, okay, they were cute, but sometimes they were too cute, you know?
Andy pulled clothing out of the closet and handed some to Nile, an odd assortment of things that looked like they'd belonged to a lumberjack at some point.
"Bathroom's outside, bedroom is in there," Andy said, and Nile could take a not-so-subtle hint. She went to change.
Apparently they were staying for a while, despite the fact that the bedroom had one bed and there wasn't anything in the cupboards.
The bag Nile had carried contained either a tent or a hammock, it was hard to tell. Joe and Nicky gathered it along with their things while Andy made a fire in the fireplace.
"Do you guys need help or something?" Nile asked hesitantly.
Joe and Nicky exchanged a glance and looked uncomfortable. "We were going to get some food for the morning," Joe said. "Did you want—"
"Just go, guys," Andy said. "See you tomorrow."
Another glance and Nicky nodded. "See you tomorrow," he agreed.
They headed out, Joe looking slightly guilty, like he'd taken seconds and found out other people hadn't had any.
"Art, I've found, is hit or miss," Andy said once they were gone. "Books are good, but hard to keep nice, ya know?"
Nile blinked. "Okay, back up. I don't understand what just happened there."
Andy smirked at her. "They're going somewhere to fuck, Nile. They don't need a chaperone."
She felt her face heat and she rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Oh."
Andy snickered, a real, actual, out-loud sound of mirth. "They're not usually that subtle."
Nile found herself thinking of Booker. He'd made Andy laugh once too, and she wondered where he was, if he was okay.
She was guessing probably not.
"We tend not to spend all that much time together," Andy said. "And yet, you get to know them fairly well."
She got quiet again and her smile faded, and Nile wondered if she was thinking of Booker too. It was such a stupid punishment, forced isolation from the only people who understood that isolation was exactly the worst punishment. And it was a crappy thing to do to someone who was clearly sorry. Nile shook her head, wondering if these people, who seemed to know so much, had forgotten some things along the way too.
That night, if Nile had been worried about sharing a bed with Andy, she needn't have been. Andy didn't seem to sleep unless they were on an airplane and she'd drunk half a bottle of vodka. Otherwise it was cat naps and coffee.
Nile lay in the darkened room, her hand idly holding her phone, staring at the soft glow. She should shut it off and conserve the battery, especially since it didn't have data and there sure as hell wasn't any wifi out here. But she ran a thumb over her mom's face and wondered if she'd ever see her again. Wondered if it would hurt less or more if she did.
Clearly, Booker thought he knew, and she'd listened to his advice like the unspoken order it was. She was good at following orders, and she understood the chain of command in this little group. But she couldn't help but wonder if maybe, for her, this had been the wrong decision. Her mama's eyes were already too sad, and her brother already too angry. They'd gotten closure, sure, and they would be able to move on. She'd been able to give them that gift, and of course it was better than not knowing. So she wasn't about to scare her mother to death by risking a glimpse and getting caught, letting her think she was seeing ghosts or wondering what the truth was.
"Mama," she whispered to her phone in the dark, "I love you, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry the last thing you got was a lie, and I'm sorry that the best way to show you I love you was to lie."
Eventually her screen blinked off and she left it darkened, the sounds of insects outside the only thing to break the night.
In the morning, Joe and Nicky were back, a brace of rabbits in hand as promised. They moved together in the small kitchen, Joe cleaned the rabbits while Nicky found a pan and an old canister of salt. Joe's face had lost the angry set of his mouth, and Nicky's smiles had started to reach his eyes again. Their healing was still happening, immortal bodies or not.
Their murmured voices washed over her quietly as she made the bed. Old habits died hard, but if she was being honest with herself, the routine was comforting. She took her time, making the corners even more precise.
When she looked up, Nicky was standing in the doorway, wiping a pan thoughtfully with a rag and watching her.
"Good morning," she said.
He didn't answer her, just examined the pan, leaning on the doorframe.
"What?"
Nicky cocked his head. "Are you okay?" he asked casually.
"What?" Nile asked again, scoffing. "I'm fine."
He made a noise like a hum and didn't move, even when she tried to leave.
"She cares for you, you know," he said, still looking at the pan. "That's why she's so controlling."
Nile sighed and sat down on the bed. She knew what a lecture sounded like when one started.
But Nicky surprised her. "It doesn't make it any easier though." His eyes were soft when he finally looked at her. "Whatever happens, some of us still remember what it was like to be where you are. And we know it's hard."
Nile swallowed, hard, and wiped her palms on her knees.
"If you need us," he said, suddenly very serious, "ever, just tell us. Okay?"
Nile nodded, unsure exactly what he had in mind when he said it, but it was nice to hear it anyway.
He nodded back. "Breakfast?"
"Sure."
Andy joined them again when the food was ready, dirt under her nails and on her face. But she didn't offer an explanation and no one asked for one. Nile wondered when she'd stop wondering.
Once they were finished, Andy washed the dishes using a bucket of water she must have gotten. Nile picked up a dish towel. It was all so very domestic, that when the phone rang, Nile didn't even register how odd it was at first. Andy flashed a look of unease at her before wiping her hands and moving to her pack.
The burner phone was the one she'd had before, and Andy answered it after barely glancing at the incoming number. "Copley?"
Nile raised her eyebrows and came closer.
"Yeah," Andy said, making eye contact with Nile and jerking her chin toward the door. Nile went to get Nicky and Joe.
"Hey," she called, "Copley's on the phone."
They dropped what they were doing and followed her inside. Andy had switched to speakerphone and placed it down carefully at the same place they'd eaten rabbit for breakfast. Nile wondered if they always chose the same seats around a table, or if it was a coincidence.
"The job would be in Baghdad," came Copley's tinny voice. "There's a group of Iraqi insurgents who are dug in, and the operatives we've sent can't make any headway. We need you to stop the altercation in order to foster goodwill in the area and save the lives of the civilians who are going to be caught in the crossfire."
Nile was fairly sure her opinion wasn't needed during this part, so she didn't let herself say the snarky response that sat on the back of her tongue about how "foster goodwill" was bullshit for "we can't afford the bad press." The others exchanged a look.
"Who is 'we'?" Andy asked. Joe rubbed his forehead.
There was a pause before Copley said, "CIA. Sorry. Not we. Force of habit."
The twist of Joe's mouth said something Nile wasn't sure how to interpret, but Copley continued. "If you accept, you can, as before, name your price. They just want this to be over. How you do it is up to you."
"Who are the operatives that were sent in?" Andy asked. "Military? Do they need an extraction?"
"Not military," Copley said. "Academi personnel."
Nile couldn't stop herself from scoffing, or the sneer that spread over her face as she sat back. Yeah, Copley was right. Habit was a powerful force. Joe, Nicky, and Andy's heads all snapped up though, and Andy's narrowed eyes said she would be grilling her for information.
"Look," Copley continued, "this is what I'm going to have for you: the jobs people can't advertise. The ones that won't make the front page unless something goes wrong. The ones where there is no winner because there can't be a fight. So how about you help me stop disasters from happening instead of just finishing things up once they go too far."
No one spoke, and after a moment Copley said, tiredly, "If your team can't do it, then let me know so we can—so the CIA can get someone else in there. People are dying."
"One question," Joe asked. "Are you back with the CIA?" From the nod Andy gave him, he wasn't the only one who wanted to know.
"No," Copley said, a twinge of what Nile imagined to be bitterness in his voice. "I'm freelance. This job just happened to come through an old contact."
Andy made eye contact with each of them before reaching for the phone. "We'll invoice you," she said by way of goodbye and hung up.
It didn't take long for Andy to turn to her. "Tell me what you know."
Nile tried not to roll her eyes. "Academi are private, contracted military personnel. Guy I knew said they called themselves the Army for Hire. Except they're not Army. They're a bunch of spoiled white boys who like to shoot things, and they found a job where someone else pays for the bullets."
Nicky raised an eyebrow at her. "Tell us how you really feel."
Nile pursed her lips and sighed. "They used to be called Blackwater, but apparently if you just change your name when you get into trouble for being immoral assholes, everyone forgives and forgets." She looked at them. "I am not interested in saving their dumb asses."
Andy stood and pocketed the phone. "Then it's a good thing you're not the one who is deciding who gets saved and who doesn't."
Nicky shook his head and stood, and Joe followed.
Nile watched them and immediately wanted to make them all sit back down. Some team discussion. "But isn't that essentially what we do?" she asked, chasing after them. "Tell me you don't decide who lives and who dies every time you pick up that axe."
Andy looked at her, a cold smirk on her lips. "Yes. I do. But you don't."
Nile frowned and ignored the laughter that burst out from Nicky behind her. "Ah, Booker would be so happy to see this. To not be the newbie anymore. Right, Joe—?"
He broke off at the lack of smile on Joe's face and Joe turned away. "I'll finish packing up."
Nicky sighed but turned to her. "That means you train with me first. The Flinch must be stopped, no?"
Shitty plane rides seemed to be the place Andy slept best. Nile knew the benefit to getting rest while you could, but even she was impressed by Andy's ability to shut out the turbulence and pass out in a plane without seats.
Nile glanced at Nicky and Joe, curled together on the floor of the plane, Joe's arm wrapped securely around Nicky's middle, as if he would disappear if they weren't touching.
The burner phone was in the same pocket of Andy's pack, and Nile held it for a while before flipping it open. There was one number in recent calls, and a different one under contacts with no name. When the phone rang on the other end, Nile almost hung up. But then a woman's voice announced that the number she had dialed was not available and to leave a message.
"Hey, Booker, it's me, Nile. Um," she said, not taking her eyes off her sleeping companions. "I don't know if you'll get this, but I just wanted to, you know, check in. Make sure you're okay."
It had been less than a week, but in the back of her mind, she wondered what it would be like to drink yourself to death and then wake up again. She bet Booker knew.
"Um. Copley found us a job, so we're headed there. I'm sure I'll be a poor replacement for you," she chuckled, "but we'll get it done. Anyway. I know they said no contact, but I just...I just wanted you to know that we're still thinking about you, even if you're not here. Okay, that's it. Bye."
She closed the phone and put it back in Andy's pack, her gut churning. She had a feeling that no contact meant no contact, and if Joe especially had heard her, there'd be hell to pay. Well. Fuck them. Booker was a person too, and he was a person in pain. She'd been around enough users to know that punishments, even if they fit the crime, didn't solve the problem. Especially when the problem was pain and anger and regret and fear. She'd done the right thing; she felt it in her bones. Booker needed people. He needed his people. Because what if he wasn't done looking for an out? What if he was not only willing to sacrifice Joe and Nicky, but civilians too?
If a phone call could avoid that and none of the others were going to make it, well, Nile didn't have skin in this game. She could be the bigger man. Hell, it wouldn't even be the first time.
Iraq was fucking hot. She'd never been, despite the things people assumed when you tell them where you've been stationed. And being dropped in the middle of a field with nothing around for miles, Nile realized she felt woefully unprepared. Her dagger was in a sheath on her belt, but it did nothing to make her feel protected. Even the extra layer of her borrowed flannel made her sweat, and she tied it up around her waist. But their surroundings all looked so familiar, and Nile felt a deep pang of homesickness. Not for her mom and their apartment, but for her tent and her teammates.
The city was huge when they got there, and Andy walked through it as if she owned it. Joe checked them into a hotel, just a regular hotel, on a regular street. Nile shook her head at the thought of the goddamned cabin they'd just left and its lack of running water, and almost wept when she stepped into the suite they were sharing. God, this was heaven. She'd died and found out heaven was in Baghdad, in a hotel with a memory foam mattress.
If Andy had planned on running her little pre-op errands solo, though, she was wrong. Nile wanted nothing more than a nap in an air-conditioned room, but Andy had told her to watch and learn, and she couldn't learn if she didn't watch. Andy didn't say anything when Nile followed her out the door, not asking where they were going, and not straying more than an arm's length away.
She followed Andy down back alleys and through an open-air market before they stopped at some kind of hardware/general store. While Andy picked up zip ties and twine and who knew what else, Nile found clothes she thought might fit her and a few other essentials including, miraculously, tampons. She felt like she was five years old again, putting her purchases on the counter alongside Andy's while she haggled, but Andy didn't bat an eye. She would have paid more attention if the conversation they were having was in English, but eventually, she found a pair of sunglasses she liked and added them to the pile. Then a bottle of lotion that smelled like lavender. Then a flashlight. If she was the child in this relationship, she should at least get the benefits of adding things to the cart when mom wasn't paying attention. When Andy finally flashed her a look, Nile smiled innocently, but she also went and waited outside. She wasn't an idiot.
When they got back to the hotel, Nile carrying their purchases in a giant duffle bag through the heat and crowds, Andy called first shower. Which was perfectly fine with Nile because Joe and Nicky weren't back yet from wherever they'd gone and the blissful hum of the air conditioner lulled her to sleep on a cloud of memory foam.
When she was nudged awake, it was dark, and Andy was repacking the duffle bag with their purchased tools. Her axe tucked in neatly next to flashlights, a folding shovel, extra ammo, and who knew what else. Something told Nile she knew who would be carrying the damn thing.
She ducked into the bathroom to shower and change and wondered when she'd stop feeling like she was living on the back foot.
"So," she said when she emerged. "What's the plan?"
Andy nodded at Joe. "We'll run it like we did in '54. See if we can get lightning to strike twice."
Nicky huffed a laugh and stood. His sword swung neatly by his leg like an extra appendage, easy and natural.
Nile glared. "You guys can't just reference old jobs, you dicks. You do actually have to tell me what's going on."
They all stared at her like she'd brought up death at a birthday party. Andy rolled her eyes and turned away, but Joe's face softened. "It was a joke, alsghyr. In '54 there was a lightning strike that took out the bad guy."
"Oh."
"We won't know until we get there," Nicky continued, pulling a hood up over his sun-highlighted hair. "No surveillance on this job."
"That's right," Joe said, grinning. "We're doing it old school. Lucky for you, you have a few old school experts on your team now."
"We go in slow," Andy interrupted, all business. "We keep an eye out for surveillance, and if anyone spots anything, we get the hell out. I'm not having Merrick happen again, ever, but definitely not on the very next job, you get me?"
"Yes, boss," Joe and Nicky agreed.
"Yes, boss," Nile parroted, quietly.
Andy nodded. "According to the locals, fighting is approximately five klicks east of here. We flank the action, Nile is with me. Ten minutes on site. We get in, get intel, get out, regroup under the bridge that's three klicks east. We'll pass it on the way, you can't miss it." She looked at each of them. "We're not on a timeline here; we can push this out if we need more information. Do not miss the rendezvous, or I will have to come get your sorry asses, and I will not like it."
Joe nodded gravely. "That would never happen. Again."
Andy grinned and pushed his shoulder. "If you two could keep it in your pants for ten goddamned minutes…" she said as she rose, strapping on her guns.
"Ten… Look at this man!" Joe exclaimed. "Ten minutes, my god. How? You tell me how I'm supposed to do that."
Nicky looked at him like he'd said something sweet and Andy just shook her head, smiling. Nile blinked at the shift in tone. This wasn't a mission for them. Or, it was, but it was more than that too. It was a part of who they were, natural, like Nicky's sword.
"Maybe one of you should go with Nile," Andy said with a small smile.
"After what he just said?" Nicky exclaimed. "Not on your tintype."
Nile had never used a thigh holster before, but it looked cool. "What's a tintype?"
Nicky tsked. "Do they not say that anymore? Ach, I can never keep up." He winked at her.
Nile chuckled and felt a little better.
"You have your pesh-kabz?" Joe asked. Nile nodded. "Two handguns...with ammo?" She nodded again, touching the pockets. "What else do you need?"
"Um," she said, hesitating, but realized she did know the answer to this one. "I'll need a long-range rifle. Do we have scopes? NVDs? Night vision devices?" she clarified at their silence.
Nicky grabbed the pieces of a dismantled Sig Sauer out of his pack and placed them on the side table. Then he gave her a look. "You any good with these?"
She stared at him flatly as she assembled the rifle in under a minute without looking at her hands. It wasn't her gun, and it felt bulky and foreign in her hands, but she was a damn good shot straight out of boot camp, and after that, she worked her ass off to hold that distinction. She figured she'd still have to work her ass off and she'd still never come close to their experience, but she knew what she knew.
Nicky's eyes sparkled and he huffed a laugh before turning away. Joe blinked and looked between them before following Nicky, and Andy gave her an approving nod before she grabbed her backpack and her axe and followed them out.
Nile took a deep breath and felt herself settle. She at least knew this. She could at least be comfortable on the job. She grabbed the heavy-ass duffle bag, which had definitely been left behind for her to haul, and hefted it on her back. That was alright. She was the new guy. She could handle earning their respect.
The night was calm and clear, which was a blessing she knew enough to send up a prayer of thanks for. Night missions were always worse in the rain.
Andy led them east, through alleys and a few gardens before the landscape changed. Windows were shattered, people were off the streets, and there was a tightness in the air. Nile watched Andy signal the other two to split off and circle around, and she felt her senses heighten. Where before she'd been aware, now she was on alert.
She followed, rifle drawn, safety on, and watched. She wasn't sure what for, but her other senses told her what she'd been waiting for. That rat-a-tat-tat was unmistakable.
"Automatic gunfire sure brings you back, huh kid?" Andy said, and Nile almost jumped.
"Yes, boss," Nile clipped, and Andy looked back at her with a grin.
Nile tried to relax and smiled back. What was that about old habits? She rolled her shoulders but hiked her gun a little higher and flipped the safety off. It was still a job, whatever Andy's mood, and she knew what was expected of her.
They moved closer to the gunfire, one area of cover after another, never slowing down. It was odd, going in blind, but Andy led the way like she'd been there before. They were still a few hundred yards out, when Nile caught a flash of movement out of her peripheral and swung her muzzle toward it.
She'd been taught not to wait. Don't hesitate because the enemy won't. She'd always hated it, every time she'd had to pull the trigger, because it was never an enemy like she'd be expecting to see. Civilian clothes, high school-aged boys, old men, and it felt wrong not to double-check. But her training was right because her finger had already squeezed the trigger when she noticed the gun in his hands.
Andy was right beside her, nodding her approval before the body dropped.
The silencer steamed in the cooling night air. Nile kept her gun up, eyes sharp, looking for his backup. Andy crept forward, motioning Nile to follow.
Nile spun and dropped to her knee, watching the alley they'd just come up while Andy examined the body.
"Palestinian," Andy said, conversationally.
Nile turned to look, confused. "I thought you said they were Iraqi?"
"I did." Andy knelt closer, uncovering his face from the wrap that had fallen over it. "And I was right. Look."
Andy swapped positions with her, handgun instead of a rifle, relaxed shoulders instead of tense, and Nile switched gears. Safety on. Gun down.
The man on the ground in front of her had a full beard, but the blond hairs stood out even in the dim light from the moon.
Nile moved closer, frowning, and pulled down his collar.
"God damn it. I knew it. Fucking Blackwater assholes," she muttered.
She showed Andy the Academi logo on the bulletproof vest he wore underneath. Andy nodded. "Let's go."
She retreated back the way they'd come, taking turns covering each other. Nile's brain was spinning with implications, and all of her previous anger and frustration was boiling just behind her ribs. She pushed aside everything but covering Andy's back until they got to the rendezvous position.
"You didn't even need this damn bag, did you?" Nile grumbled under her breath.
Andy's grin was blinding. "Nope. Wasn't even sure you'd pick it up."
Nile couldn't help but chuckle, even though the bag was heavy and hot against her back. Even the cool night air couldn't reach the trickle of sweat rolling down her spine.
When Joe and Nicky showed up, they were out of breath and Nile had a moment of, "No, they wouldn't have. Would they?" before deciding she didn't want to know.
Andy wasted no time telling them what they'd found.
"Are we getting played here, boss?" Nicky asked.
"I don't know, but someone is," Andy said. "The CIA knows they're here, knows they're fighting. They have to know how they're dressed. Hell, they probably bought them the outfits."
"Why, though?" Nile asked, bewildered. "Why would they let that happen? If they keep—"
"Because this is how the world works, Nile," Andy intoned. "Empires rise and fall, and it's the same assholes in charge every time. You think they don't have a reason to keep them at each other's throats?" She said it flatly, like she expected no less.
Nile swallowed and looked down at her boots. "So what do we do?"
Andy tsked and shook her head. "Well, we don't have to let the assholes win, that's for sure."
The walk back seemed shorter, and Andy's stride was purposeful and confident. She seemed angry, but at a low simmer, a contained under-her-breath rage that Nile wasn't sure she'd ever seen before, and she wasn't sure if she should be impressed or scared as hell. She settled for both.
Andy ignored Joe and Nicky's recon info about the Iraqis and headed straight to the Blackwater bastards. They fanned out when they got close, ruthless and silent, Nicky's sword flashing in the moonlight.
Nile forced a short, hard breath out of pursed lips and made sure the safety was on. She swung her rifle out of her way and took out her dagger. The pesh-kabz fit in her hand, the grip becoming familiar, and visualized it as part of her arm, the way Nicky had told her.
Nile stuck close to Andy, only part of her aware of Andy's mortality, and the other part needing to be close enough that Andy could tell her where she needed her to be.
They came a slightly different way than they had the last time, and Nile guessed someone must have found the body because there was shouting and more gunfire this time. The four of them were wraiths in the darkness, propelled by Andy's muffled anger and ready to rain down silent death upon the unsuspecting.
Then Joe slapped Nicky's ass and sprinted away, giggling.
Andy was shaking her head but she just kept forward movement, more careful of her cover now, and Nile tried to ignore them. She felt somewhat naked without her gun, helmet, and body armor between her and danger. But she tried to remember what Joe and Nicky had told her, about leaning into the things that separated her from her enemies.
Nile wondered if they shouldn't have hidden the body, or done something to keep their presence unknown because there were no sleepy soldiers on duty tonight. Luckily, the city terrain gave them plenty of cover to get close, and the pesh-kabz was silent on the first and second throats she slit. But the third she had no luck. Andy was nowhere to be seen by then, and Nile took three bullets before she was able to take the gun out of his hand. Two in the gut and one in the shoulder, and they fucking hurt, not to mention took the wind out of her lungs. But she leaned in, like she'd been training to do, and watched the fear in her enemy's eyes. Then she cut away his clothing so the logo could be seen.
"Fucker," she whispered, waiting for her body to catch up. "Let's go, let's go," she muttered, holding her stomach as it mended.
When it was finally holding together enough not to drench her shoes in blood, she moved toward the next target. She could hear sounds of fighting on her left, Joe and Nicky no doubt working side by side, and Andy's higher-pitched grunts of exertion. She headed that way.
They were done by the time she got there, panting and ready for another wave, but not a scratch on any of them. Showoffs.
"Did we get them?" Nile whispered.
Andy raised a finger to her lips, pointing, and Nile ducked behind cover. She swung her rifle up to scope where Andy had pointed.
No less than 16 rifle muzzles were pointed at them from a hulled-out storefront. The Iraqis. They really were dug in. But Nile had a feeling that one single sound and they would be pumped full of holes faster than they could say, "we're on your side."
Andy checked with Joe and Nicky, getting twin nods, and she signaled to roll out.
Then the cell phone in Andy's pack rang.
The electronic song sounded like a freight train in the darkness. Andy's surprised and then angry face flashed to Nile and then she muttered something that sounded like, "Motherfucker."
They could hear the response immediately even as they headed behind cover. The shouts, the shuffle of feet, and rifles cocking in their direction. Nicky and Joe were trading blades for guns, and Nile realized what was coming.
"Wait," she said, standing, putting her hands up. "Don't shoot—"
The first bullets felt like the others, unbelievable punches of pain and breathlessness, but after the first few, she stopped feeling them. She could tell she was falling, the cold dark of the stars above unwavering, and the sounds around her wavering in and out. She blacked out, splayed on the duffle bag underneath her, in the middle of a thought about the age of stars.
"Nile," she heard Nicky's voice above her. "Nile!" He was shaking her arm, frustration in his voice.
"Yeah, I'm alright," she said, groaning and trying to sit up.
"You were supposed to be covering Andy," Nicky said, "not drawing fire trying to be a hero. What were you thinking?"
Nile would have answered him, something sharp and angry and backed by the most frustrating few weeks of her existence, but she was staring.
They were dead. All of them. Every single human being who had been a part of this conflict was laying in a fanned out circle around her.
"Jesus," Nile breathed. "Jesus."
Nicky was still scolding her in a stage whisper that could be heard three countries over, and after a moment, she realized Andy was talking.
"No. Booker, I said no. Yeah. I'll tell her. She's a baby, Book. Like you said. Give her some time. Yeah," and then quieter, "yeah, you too. Stay out of trouble."
She hung up the phone, and her face was cut from marble. She neither looked at nor spoke to any of them, just put the phone back in her pack and walked away from the pile of bodies she'd helped create.
"Andy," Nile tried, "Andy, wait." But she didn't even turn.
Andy walked further into the desert, away from the city and their hotel, and they all followed her, subdued, blood-soaked ducklings. Nile wasn't sure how far they were going, or if they were ever going back, or if she'd had all she was going to get of memory foam and tampons.
When Andy finally turned and stared at her, the fury on her face was heart-stopping.
"This is it," Nile thought. "I'm out of the group. Please, God, I don't think I can handle 100 years by myself." She honestly couldn't remember ever being truly alone for any length of time.
"Andy, I'm sorry," she tried before Andy could say anything.
"Stop," Andy spit out. "Just stop. You don't know anything. And you sure as hell don't know anything about being sorry."
Nile said nothing.
"You don't get to talk to Booker. You don't get to call him, like it's—"
She broke off and turned away, her breath hitching like she was fighting back tears. When she turned again, she was calmly furious once more.
"You cannot reach out to Booker again, do you understand? This is the punishment we decided on, and Booker, at least, accepts that. You don't get to decide that you know better than we do about Booker, you got it?"
Nile was quiet. "But why?"
"Because he was my friend!"
Her voice echoed in the open air, and Nile felt like she'd been slapped.
Andy sighed, composing herself. "He was my friend," she said, calmer. "And this is my punishment also."
"Andy," Nicky said, "no."
"It is,' she said harshly. "It's my punishment too. Don't think I didn't agree to 100 years to punish only Book, Nicky." A tear slid down her cheek, even though her voice was steady. "I won't see him again, and if you think that's a punishment for only him, you don't know me at all. But it was my job to keep us safe, and I failed. So this is my punishment too, do you understand? It's mine. And you don't get to take that away from me."
No one said anything.
"I don't want to hear your 'sorry,'" she said, just above a whisper. "You protect. This. Group. You hear me? First and always. There's no 'sorry.'"
Nile nodded.
"Let's go."
They headed back toward the city and the hotel, stopping once to get the clothes out of the duffle bag and burying the torn and bloody ones which told their story. Which meant Nile was back in her borrowed lumberjack clothes. It was fitting. She'd been wearing someone else's life too.
At least when they got back to the hotel they could hit the showers, and Andy answered her when she asked how long they were staying.
"Two days," Andy said. "Get some sleep."
The curtains did little to block out the daytime sun, and Joe and Nicky murmured Italian in each other's ears, and Andy kept getting up and down, but Nile just rolled over and went back to sleep. The rush of a mission, the anxiety about being disowned, the marching for miles...Nile didn't realize how drained she was until she laid down and couldn't even gather the energy to take off her boots.
When she finally woke up, the sun told her it was late afternoon. Her head pounded and she felt stiff, but better. She was alone in the room, so she took the time to shower, rebraid her hair, and watch the news.
The set in their hotel room didn't pick up any news channels in English, but Nile flipped through them with growing concern. They all had coverage of their massacre, and massacre was all she could think of it as, but the words "Academi," or "Blackwater," or even "American" were conspicuously missing from the pieces she could make out.
She was standing in the middle of the room, holding the remote and frowning at the television when the other three came back.
"Nile?" Joe asked. "Everything alright?"
"They covered it up," she said, waving a hand at the news. "The news reports, all of them, no one is mentioning who was actually doing the fighting."
Joe's expressive eyebrows said he wasn't surprised, and they all gathered at the table with their take-out. Nile noticed a space and food for her, but she'd lost her appetite.
"Well?" she questioned. "Aren't we going to do anything?"
They exchanged looks. "Do anything about what?" Nicky said gently.
"About the truth!" Nile exploded. "They're just going to get away with it! The CIA, the Academi idiots...if we don't say something, they're just going to keep starting fights between these two groups to further their political whatever!"
This time it was Andy's eyebrows that said she wasn't surprised.
"Oh, what?" Nile demanded. "What does that mean?"
They all looked back at her, chewing calmly.
"You mean we're not going to do anything?"
Andy put down her food and licked her lips. "Kid, there's an old Chinese saying. 'Don't look at anything too closely unless you want it to become your problem.'"
Joe raised a laughing eyebrow. "That's an old Chinese saying?"
Andy waggled a hand. "More or less."
Nile sighed, not willing to be pulled into their joking. She sat at the table, willing them to listen. "Guys, we are supposed to be doing some good, remember? That's the whole point?"
The other three glanced at each other. "Nile," Joe started, and Nile sighed and settled back for a lecture.
"You're not going to take down the CIA," Andy interrupted, matter-of-fact. She took another bite.
Nile hesitated. "But if we—"
"No," Andy interrupted again, swallowing. "It's not going to happen. And even if you could topple entire governments overnight, they get put right back up again. And sometimes, a lot of times, the new regimes are worse."
Nile deflated, sinking back in her chair.
Nicky leaned forward, putting a hand on her shoulder. "We work within the systems," he said softly. "We take down the support for the system, quietly, and eventually the system will fall on its own. Like a rockslide, yes? But we move pebbles, not boulders."
Nile glanced around the table. "But why? What if there's a big damn boulder just sitting right there? Why wouldn't you just give it at least a little push?"
"Because people don't listen, kid," Andy said. She didn't sound angry, just resigned. "And because if you start pushing boulders, someone is going to notice."
Nile set her jaw. "Did you at least tell Copley?"
Andy nodded, slowly. "But it won't make a difference."
Nile sighed and gave up. She couldn't fight the whole world and three immortals at the same time. With practical determination, she pulled some food toward her. "Don't hog it all."
The next plane ride was smoother, even if the plane was smaller. She and Andy lay back to back, and they slept head to feet with Joe and Nicky, who apparently couldn't bear to be horizontal if they were not touching in some way.
She was sandwiched in between sleeping team members, seconds from sleep herself, phone in hand, staring at her mom's face, when she noticed something.
The pilot, whoever he was, was using a wifi hotspot.
Which meant for the first time since becoming immortal, she had access to the internet.
For just a moment, she wanted nothing more than to play a stupid, mindless game on her phone, or download a song, or, God, anything to feel normal for five damn seconds.
What she did instead was Google CNN+foreign correspondent+Iraq and click on the woman's Twitter link.
After a deep breath and a quick check to make sure Andy was really asleep, Nile started to type.
It took nine tweets to finish what she wanted to say, and the low battery popup blinked on just after she posted the last one. Forcing down her shaky insides, Nile switched off her phone and tucked it into her pocket.
With a finger, she traced the necklace she still wore. She would be lying if she said her faith hadn't been pushed to the very back corner of her mind lately, but like making the bed, sometimes it didn't matter if the outcome was necessary. Sometimes just the doing was a comfort.
So she prayed. She prayed that she'd make the right choice. She prayed for her family, and her friends. She prayed for her old team, and her new one. For Booker, that he was okay, wherever he was. For Joe, that he would find forgiveness in his heart, and for Nicky that he would continue to be kind, always. And she prayed for Andy. Especially for Andy. She carried so much with her, and it had built up so much that it seemed to drag her down sometimes. Nile prayed for a lightened load, and the ability to go on, because Andy needed that. And they needed Andy.
Nile fell asleep with the tiny gold cross in her fist and a sliver of hope in her heart that maybe she would make it. Maybe they all would.
When they touched down, she once again didn't recognize the language, either written or spoken.
"Where are we?" she asked, taking in all the greenery.
"Just outside of Bucharest," Andy sighed. "Come on."
Andy must not have had a safe house just outside of Bucharest because they walked for what felt like an hour and then checked into another hotel. Nile would have thought she wasn't sleepy after the plane ride, but the lawn chair on their balcony catching a perfect ray of afternoon sun had other thoughts.
She was nudged awake by a concerned-looking Nicky, who just gestured to Andy inside, watching the television with a remote in her hand and a scowl on her face.
"Uh oh," Nile murmured.
"Be strong," Nicky said with a half smile. "Remember, she can only try to kill you."
But Andy wasn't laughing. "Nile," she said, her eyes flashing. "What did you do?"
The television showed a woman trying to interview an angry-looking man in an Academi polo, with the words "Iraqi Massacre" at the bottom of the screen. He was saying, "Academi can neither confirm nor deny…" while walking away and getting into a Hummer.
Nile couldn't help the small smile that twitched at the corner of her lips. It had worked.
"You said you were going to be more careful," Andy said, her voice hard and frightening. "You promised this would never happen again, remember?"
"I didn't get photographed!" Nile protested. "I just sent her a tip! People do that all the time!"
"From a dead woman's Twitter account!" Andy shouted. "What if she'd decided that was the bigger story, Nile? Huh? What then?"
"I…"
"I told you to drop it!" Andy pointed the remote at her. "I told you we move pebbles, god damn it! And you deliberately ignored me! What if that journalist starts digging into the source? What if Academi does? Or the CIA?"
Andy was getting more and more angry, and Nile squared her shoulders.
"God damn it, Nile!" Andy dragged a hand through her short hair, her jaw working.
"You said," Nile tried, quiet anger in her voice. "You said we were going to do some good. That you'd forgotten your mortality, and that it was important that you remember it."
"I said to protect this team," she snapped. "First and always."
"That's your job," Nile said, and Andy's mouth dropped open. "I know that's your role here, Andy, and I know that's why you're upset. You call the shots, you keep us safe. But you have been treating me like a child ever since I got here—"
"That's because you are a child!"
"Fine then!" Nile yelled. "Go ahead! Put me in time out for 100 years! But I'm not going to stop being who I am, Andy. Because you need me."
She could sense Joe and Nicky standing to the side and turned to include them in the conversation.
"I understand each of your roles on this team, and I respect them. I do," she insisted at Andy's scoff. "But just because I have a lot to learn, doesn't mean I don't have anything to teach."
"You're naive," Andy said, shaking her head. "You're young and too idealistic."
"So?"
"So it'll change!" Andy said. "You'll start to see the shit that we have to crawl through to do one good deed."
"That's my role though," Nile said quietly. "For as long as I can. It's why I'm here, Andy." She glanced at Joe and Nicky, leaning against each other. "And it's why you need me."
Joe winked at her and Nicky looked proud. Andy still had her hands on her hips and wasn't looking at her.
Then she sighed.
"I wasn't going to put you in 'time out'," she finally said. "Booker did that to himself, and he knows it."
When she looked at Nile, she still looked flushed, but she was calm. "And if you think for one second that any one of us, even Joe, wouldn't drop everything to help him if he needed it, even now?"
"I'd drop something," Joe muttered under his breath. "Right on his stupid head."
"Then you just need to spend more time with us," Andy continued, ignoring him. "Because we're not an army for hire. We're a family, kid."
Nile felt the lump in her throat swell and she took the two steps necessary to put her arms around the other woman. Andy startled, but her hands settled around Nile's back hesitantly, and then they were enveloped by Joe and Nicky's bulk.
"Aw, boss, this is nice," Joe teased. "Can we get matching pajamas for the Christmas card?"
From the center of their huddle, Andy snorted, and then started to laugh. And before long, they were all laughing, and hugging, and if there were a few tears shed too, well, what were a few tears among family?
"You guys are very hard to keep alive, you know that?" came Andy's voice from inside the hug. "Mostly because I want to kill you all the time."
"We know, boss," Nicky said fondly. "We know."
Nile sniffed back her tears, grateful for these idiots. Every single one of them. She'd carry them with her everywhere, she knew. From now on, she would never be alone, the way Booker wasn't really alone. On this job, and the next, and a hundred jobs from now, she would be there for them too, reminding them why they fought, lightening their load and helping them go on. And helping them forgive, and helping them be kind, and bringing them together as much as she could. Because that's what families did for each other.
Family was messy, and funny, and hard sometimes, but she sent up a prayer of thanks for the one she'd found.