Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

Episode 14: Knives and Bullets

It had been a month and a half since Tex got blown up. A month and a half of training, a mission with the new sniper, and stories about how bad the new guy was at close combat from Marley and Flowdie. Now, he was going to have a knife match followed by a gun duel with Frank. It was going to be awesome! "Hey Frank. You ready for this?" Rick asked, twirling his matching paint knives. Frank shifted nervously.

"No," he said hollowly. Rick frowned. That wasn't right. The Frank he'd gone on that mission with had been a whole lot more confident. Sure he sighed a lot, as though asking 'why me,' but still!

"Come on. Why so... defeated? The match hasn't even started yet!" Rick asked. The burgundy Agent shrugged.

"I can't beat you. I know that. So, I'm done before the battle starts," he said, halfheartedly checking the weight of the pain knife.

"Can't you hear yourself?" Rick asked, staring at the younger man. Where had this loser's complex come from? Frank shrugged again.

"Maybe I just don't care." Rick groaned and attacked, causing the younger man to jump back with a yelp.

"I do. Now fight!" Rick growled. Frank was fairly nimble, but Rick was not only a natural with a knife, but he'd been training with his for nearly two years while Frank had neither talent nor extensive training. Round after round, Frank went down looking like an abstract painting until all seven rounds were done. Rick shook his head. "I don't know if it's your defeatist attitude, or if you just suck with a knife, but that was the worst match I've ever had," he said, putting his paint knives back on the rack.

"Yeah? Well it wasn't much better for me either!" Frank huffed, doing the same. Rick shook his head, checking the clip in his main pistol.

"You know, things would go a lot better for you if you didn't give up so easily," he said. "And here I actually believed Flowdie when he said that you just kept coming."

"Usually I do but... I don't know. It's different." Rick hummed, clicking a paint clip into his offhand pistol.

"Ready for this?" he asked the burgundy Agent. Frank nodded.

"As I'll ever be," he said sullenly, loading his own pistol with paint rounds. Rick laughed, sliding into a ready stance, both pistols held easily, familiarly, in his hands.

"Then lets get this show on the road!" he said, dashing to the side, firing paint rounds. He heard Frank shout and the thuds of his foot steps as he ran away from the incoming paint.

"I hate the army!" Frank yelled from somewhere to his left.

"This ain't the army kid! It's Project Red!" Rick shouted after him, running toward his voice.

"Still hate it!" Frank piped, still running. Rick grinned. Perhaps Frank wasn't as defeated as he thought.

"You get to play with the sniper rifle!" he countered, enjoying the banter.

"Yeah! And then get shot at! Repeatedly! No thank you!" Frank rejoined, obviously still running.

"Too late!" Rick called out, throwing himself around yet another rocky spire and 'lobbing' a paint round ahead of him. The sound of paint impacting on armor and a grunt of pain told Rick he'd landed a hit.

"Why is it always the right side?" he heard Frank mutter. He walked out from his cover and saw a blond head looking at the orange paint covering the right side of his helmet. Hearing the footsteps, Frank swiped at the paint on the visor, then put his helmet back on before spinning around to fire a round semi-blind. The more experienced Agent barely had to adjust his stance for the round to miss him. Still, Rick was frowning. Blond. A jagged scar on the back of his head. The right side. The young voice. He shook his head. It couldn't be. No. No way. Frank was... 'Short for Franklin.' No. He couldn't think that. Burgundy was Burgundy and Eagle was Eagle. That was that. 'Whatever helps you sleep at night,' the annoying voice in his head jeered. Rick forcefully shoved it back in it's box. Now wasn't the time to be dealing with things like that.

/*/

Frank shook the impact to his helmet off, or tired to anyway. It was hard, when getting hit with that round reminded him of the grenade that almost when off stuck to his head. Had it really only been a month and a half since then? It felt like a lot longer. He staggered to his feet, only to find Rick staring at him. Frank froze for a moment. "What?" he asked sharply. Rick shook himself slightly and turned around.

"Reset," he said coolly, walking back to the start. Frank stared after the maroon Agent, wondering what was going through the brilliant head of his. Why had he been staring? How long had he been there? Had he seen his face? Was he wondering why he even agreed to this? Did he realize how much of a failure he really was? "Come on Frank! Show me what you got!" 'I have nothing.' "In five! Four! Three!" 'Why did I ever agree to this?' "Two! One!" 'No more time!' Rick used the rock pillars to great effect and Frank could only run and hide. Run and hide and pray he'd be able to shoot fast and accurately enough to take Rick down before he got shot in the head. Again.

"Not good not good not good!" he chanted, quietly but urgently, to himself, grabbing rock pillars and slinging around behind them, Rick's footsteps dogging his every move. It was pointless. Rick would beat him. He was only good long range. This kind of fight wasn't for him. He was going to lose. He was going to die. Run, dodge, roll, shoot, run, hide, paint to the side, hiss in pain, run, run, run!

"Come on Frank. I know you can do better." 'No. I can't.' Run, shoot, hide, run, run, run, orange in the face.

"Again? Why is it always the right side?!" Honestly. Why?

"I... actually wasn't aiming for the right side," Rick said, sounding a little perplexed.

"Oh, like that makes it so much better," Frank snapped. Rick laughed and helped the other man up, holding out a rag.

"You're doing better this match. I think close quarter fighting just isn't your thing. It's cool, long distance isn't as easy for me unless it's through a computer. Still, it'd be good if you could look after yourself without that sniper rifle," he said. Frank chuckled and wiped the paint off his armor, resetting for another round.

"I can. Just... not well," Frank protested. Rick chuckled, walking back to his starting point. Frank shook his head and headed to his own starting point. Time for round three.

/*/

Marley watched as her newest agent continued his match against Rick. It was like watching the match between York, Maine, Wyoming, and Tex. Only it was one on one and no live rounds ready to blow someone's eye out. "Marley... he's a sniper," Flowdie said behind her.

"So is York. So is Wyoming. Does that make them any less dangerous on the ground?" Marley countered. Flowdie shook his head.

"Marley... I still don't understand your insistence on these Sim. Soldiers being the best," he said. She sighed and sat down across from him.

"Butch. If I could show you what I saw, what has burned itself into my brain, I would. And maybe, once you'd seen it, you'd understand. But I can't. I can't and nothing I say is going to make sense because you can't see it!" Marley said, her voice getting more intense with every word. Flowdie shook his head again.

"Tell me, Marlene. Tell me what you've seen that makes you think these guys could rival the Freelancers," he asked, crouching down in front of her seat. She closed her eyes, unable to withstand the gentleness Flowdie was infamous for.

"I saw them take out an army of Wyoming, blow up Washington, throw Maine off a cliff, defeat an army of Texas robots, and end a civil war. Now you tell me, does that not rival the Freelances?" Marley replied softly. Flowdie sighed.

"Yeah. That's... pretty impressive. Blew up Wash?" he asked, unable to resist.

"Yeah. He walked away from it, but they still hit him hard. Ran him over with a Warthog then blew up unstable chemicals in his face." Flowdie winced. That sounded painful. "Butch... I really want to share the extent of my visions with someone, but I just don't know how!" He sighed.

"I've got nothing but time, my dear. Please, tell on," he said, getting comfortable in his chair. Marley sighed.

"I've tried, Butch. So many times. But you've refused to believe they might be right," she said. Flowdie sighed again.

"You were right about the rookie nailing Tex with a grenade. I believe you. I have no choice but to believe you. So I say again, tell on my love," he said. And so, in a ship above a secret training ground with gun shots and screams of pain and frustration in the back ground, Marley began to tell her tale in earnest.

"It all started when the Director wanted more A.I for the Project..."

/*/

The paint round slammed into his side and sent him tumbling to the ground. "Dead! Man, the universe must hate me. Right side, every time!" Frank yelled. Rick chuckled and reached out to help the other agent up.

"Naw, you just leave it open too often. Well, that was the seventh round. Game's over," the tech said. Frank sighed, trudging off to the shelter and picking up a wet rag before getting to work rubbing the paint off his armor. "I think you actually tried those last three rounds. Finally decide I'm not the boogie man?" Frank laughed. Rick was an alright guy. Scary as all get out in a fight and the most brilliant man he'd met to date, but alright.

"Yeah man. No self respecting boogie man would hum old movie scores while hunting down his victim," Frank replied with an easy joking manner. Rick chuckled and thumped him on the back before grabbing a rag for himself and swiping at the orange smears on his armor.

"Still, you hit me. Quite a few times. I know you already know I'm called Rick, but hey. Thought that counts, right?" the man said, holding out a hand. Frank chuckled again and shook his hand.

"Yeah man. Thought that counts," he said. "So... think I could actually learn how to be a good soldier?" he asked.

"No," Rick said firmly, and Frank felt his heart drop. "I think you are going to be a great soldier. But first, you're going to need to get past that loser's complex of yours. But don't worry, we can help with that," Rick said happily. Frank huffed out a surprised laugh at Rick's vote of confidence.

"Oh man, don't scare me like that!" he said, pushing Rick. The man laughed and pushed back. Soon, the two were locked in a friendly wrestling match. Complete with punches and laughter. And that was how Marley found them, covered in dirt, laughing their heads off as they tried the strangle each other. She chuckled and leaned against the door of The Phantom.

"Looks like we have a pair of grapplers in the Crew!" she called, voice full of mirth. The two broke apart, now looking more brown than red, and stood at attention. "Good work out there boys. Maroon! I expect you to train Burgundy in proper knife handling and terrain usage when the two of you have overlapping training times. Burgundy! When you can last a full two minutes against Maroon in both areas I expect you to train him in the finer points of sniping. All my Agents have basic knowledge of how to use a sniper rifle, but you're the only one who really took to it. I'm counting on you to help them improve. Now wash that mud off your armor soldiers! Lift off in fifteen!" she said.

"Ma'am yes ma'am!" both soldiers replied with a salute before trotting off to get cleaned up. "So..." Frank began.

"Marley's the best CO I've ever had. She trained me, mentored me, helped me through a lot of my problems, sent me on missions that actually felt like they had worth. She was the first one to ever tell me she believed I could do great things," Rick said, wiping his armor down with a quick efficiency that was just a little scary but Frank found himself envying.

"But did she..." Frank began, only for Rick to cut him off again.

"She trained us all in a lot of things, but yes, sniping was one of them. I... did not progress from beginner. Even with a full year of training, I couldn't get past 'not going to shoot his own foot.'" Frank winced.

"Yikes man. I... yikes," he said. Rick chuckled.

"You may be the same way with a knife or a pistol. Don't worry too much about it though. We all have those areas where we hang up. The closest to 'techie' Dex gets is flying or driving. And Red is even worse. Though... somehow... he manages to build robots. Good ones. Intelligent android good. I have no clue how such a non-tech guy can produce such high level robots, but there ya go," he said, sounding honestly belwildered. Frank had to laugh as well.

"Heh, alright, that's pretty weird. Now, I've got something I wanna ask you," he said, growing anxious.

"Shoot," Rick invited.

"What's Orange like?" Rick chuckled, slinging an arm around the younger soldier's shoulder.

"Orange? In a word... beast," he answered in all seriousness. Frank swallowed heavily, not looking forward to the joint practice session Marley had promised with each of the other Agents. There was no way Rick was joking. The emotion was too real. Frank nodded silently, thinking about how dead he was going to be.

"Okay. Just how bad is he? In a spar I mean," he prompted.

"He's practically unbeatable," Rick answered easily. "Not to mention he has a hair-pin trigger."

"Hair-pin trigger?" Frank asked, seriously anxious now.

"Oh yeah. The littlest thing can set him off. One time, he nearly ripped my arm off!"

"Uh... anything else? About his personality?"

"He's a bit of a show off, and arrogant about it, but the thing is, he's got the skills to back up just about anything he says," Rick said.

"Yikes. Sounds impossible to live with," Frank said, feeling a little green.

"He's a bit difficult, true, but knowing he's got my back is incredibly reassuring," Rick said.

"What about Red? What's he like?"

"Whatever you do, don't insult the shotgun in his presence. Don't grab the shotgun, don't breath on the shotgun, don't even look at the shotgun. And watch out for his right hook, it's nasty."

"Duly noted," Frank muttered, following the older Agent onto The Phantom.

"Don't worry too much, Frank. I'm sure they won't kill you."

"Oh, sure, because that's incredibly reassuring!"

/*/

When Rick and Frank had been dropped off, Flowdie turned to Marley. "Ya know... I don't think things are going to happen quite like you said they were." Marley chuckled.

"That's what I'm counting on Flowdie. It's why I started Project Red ya know. To prepare them. Blue Team has more than enough drama to be getting on with, so I didn't bother with them but Red Team? They basically just got dragged along because you can't have Blue without Red... not when they're coming from Blood Gulch anyway. Besides, they become pretty good friends by the end of it," she said. Flowdie shook his head.

"When is Wash coming?"

"Not for at least another year Flowdie. They have to finish at Sidewinder, get blown up, and then dispersed for another... several months before Wash starts gathering the Blues to take down the Meta... and Freelancer," Marley answered. Flowdie nodded, then sighed.

"You're going to call in the Phantoms for some of it... right?" he asked.

"Only those I feel are up for it. Some of them have begun the process of crafting a new identity for themselves," she told him.

"Chorus is still..."

"We're gonna win that war Flowdie. We're just going to do it a little... differently."

"You are one scary lady, ya know that?" Marley just laughed and headed off for her own work out. "Yeah. She knows. Crazy woman."

/?/

A/N: Annn~d... that's it for the three month interlude! Sorry to those who may have wanted more, but I just... am drawing a total blank. Seriously. But, you get more clues that Frank/Eagle Eye/Burgundy/Doughnut is putting the pieces together faster than the others. Or maybe, just being really bad at denying the inconsistencies and similarities. Also, yet more Maine-like capabilities that Dex has commandeered. Seriously, this dude is taking my idea and running like a turbo charged stallion! I know they're progressing a little fast but... they have Marly and an army of Freelancers floating about space, ready and all too willing to train them. And Marly's been at it a while with the other three. Eagle's going really, really fast but... eh. Anyway...

Let me know what you thought of this chapter in the lovely review box down below! Bitter und Danke!

Regenengel3

A/N 2: Yeah. I re-ordered the fights. Originally, this was going to be the last fight. I figured Orange vs Burgundy was better as a final because, well, Orange has more or less become the leader for Project Red. And the leader is always last. Also, edited for continuity and spelling. 8/17/16