Montenegro had been a nightmare. Four months. Three strike teams. Two assassination attempts - one on him and one on their primary contact and a partridge in a pear tree. It was a disaster through and through. But it was over and he had succeeded and that's all that mattered.

He hoped.

Dr. Three and Yassen had only become more critical as time passed. He had quickly learned that while success was not optional there were varying degrees with a million factors that determined where he fit on a sliding and very nebulous scale. The factors were slowly being added. Cost had been first. The bunker busters in Australia had made that particular operation far more expensive than it should have been. It had been a year since then and the snakehead had just now broken even from his initial acquiring of it.

After that it had been a never ending cascade - developing contacts, operational stability, effective asset utilization, obtaining other business interests in the area, and gaining favors from intelligence agencies and other entities "Never do anything for free, Alex, if you're eliminating someone chances are governments want them gone too." It was no longer as simple as go in, meet the objectives, and get out. He missed those days. Those days meant he could sleep and eat something that was not a sandwich while he poured over reports and gave briefings. Sagitta did their best to try and keep up with him. They tried to lighten the load but there was nothing to be done for it. Most of the things that kept him up at night were things only he could handle. Reports only he could give.

Still, he didn't miss the critical eyes on him.

Sagitta had been watching him more and more closely, getting more and more aggressive with trying to get him to eat and sleep and drink. He was grateful, in a way. If they hadn't, he probably would have dropped a long time ago. It wasn't that he didn't want to take care of himself. He did. But there were only so many hours in a day and he needed every single last one to keep from failing. The only thing that hadn't fallen by the way side was his near religious 2 hour workouts. Yassen would know if he skipped on those and the price for that failure would be high and harsh so he always made time for that. Otherwise, he tried to get through as best he could. He always did well during the initial part of the operation when it was planning and logistics and calm. But when shit hit the proverbial fan he was lucky to get even a few hours of sleep in. Yassen's daily four hours seemed more like a goal he would love to reach than some unattainable God-like power that he first thought. He could crash at the end of the mission just like he did every time. All he had to do was make it through the debrief. Then he could sleep.

He knocked back the last of the energy drink as they neared the high rise. It had become a staple when he got off the plane. A habit that Yassen would strongly disapprove of but would hopefully never find out about. As they came to a stop at a traffic light, Ivey pulled a tan container from his pocket and held it out.

Concealer?

He looked up in confusion.

"You look like hell and Mr. Gregorovich won't just take that out on you."

Fuck.

He hadn't even considered that.

Alex practically snatched it out of his hand and flipped the mirror down. Damn, he did look bad. The concealer wouldn't do much to hide the bags under his eyes but it would make the dark circles less noticeable. At this point he would take what he could get.

"Why? Has he said anything?" He asked as he used the wand to smear it under his eyes.

"Told Marcus to keep an eye out in case you hadn't figured that out from all of his nagging."

He really should have. Marcus could be a nag but he had been significantly worse this op. Alex had just brushed it off as him being stressed after the assassination attempt but that was what marked the operation going to hell in a hand basket. There wouldn't have been much of a need before then. If Yassen was worried enough to bring it up to Marcus behind his back….hell. He took another glance in the mirror, suddenly noticing all the tells of exhaustion that Yassen would pick up on. It was normal, though. Yassen could handle grueling operations with grace but Alex was still learning. He didn't have 15 years of field experience yet. If it was just about sleep he might be able to sell it with that, but given the number of water bottles and plates of food that had been piled up on his desk by Marcus, he doubted that was it.

The concealer was as good as it could get without being too obvious or too overworked. He looked at his hands, Yassen would notice the makeup smudges.

"There's hand sanitizer in the glove box. Here's some eye drops too." He set them on top of the console.

Should have put those in first but Ivey wouldn't know that. He had never worn makeup in his life and probably never would. Then again, almost 5 years ago Alex would say that he never would either. Obviously hadn't stopped him.

He worked the gel in between his fingers doing his best to scrub it off of him or at least blend it in.

"Need me to take another lap?" Alex considered it. It would be too suspicious.

"No. Head in. I'll make it quick." He said, snapping the plastic off the cap and hurriedly dropping them in before they turned into the cameras. He dabbed at the excess trying his best to keep it from smudging the concealer and glanced back in the mirror and touched up the corners. Passable if no one was looking too closely. Unfortunately, Yassen definitely would be. "Next time he approaches you about something like this I better know about it."

"Talk to Marcus." Ivey returned, "I imagine if he didn't say anything to you he had a damn good reason."

Like a threat from Yassen went unsaid.

Alex took a steadying breath as they rolled to a stop then stepped confidently out and walked purposefully toward the elevators. He hated them but there was no way he was walking up 50 flights of stairs. Especially not when it would make him late.

Thankfully, the elevator was empty when it opened. Probably by design. They owned the building and the staff. Alex was grateful, he didn't need any more stress right now. No matter how many times he went back to this office, it still put him on edge. Dr. Three probably enjoyed that about it. He had gotten much better about hiding his feelings but Three was an expert in reading people and Alex was still hardly a challenge.

The doors to the office were already open when he arrived. He sailed past the guards and took his spot in front of the table as they were shut behind him. At least they had the decency to not make him wait. The room was silent as Yassen studied him carefully, his lips thinning noticeably.

Damn.

Dr. Three wasn't much better, his eyes lingered just a little too long with the cursory once over he was given.

"Report."

"The coup was a success and was completed according to the parameters of our client under time and budget. NATO has rescinded their offer and the Russian government has recognized the new government. We were able to obtain bids from other interested parties to place their own people into position and gained access to the ANB database."

They knew all of that but that was how these things went.

"How long do you think the new government will be stable for?"

"A year or two at the most and that's if the Russians were to step in. There was already a strong resistance movement against the pro-Russian faction before we even staged the coup. Both sides are too unstable now, but I anticipate the situation will flare to armed conflict within the next 3 months."

"You did not take any steps to stabilize the situation." Dr. Three observed.

"The client and the other interested parties didn't want to pay for our services in maintaining the peace." That wasn't a surprise to anyone. The client wouldn't want to, mainly because they didn't care what happened to the small nation. The Russian oligarchs who paid for their services just didn't want NATO that close to their collective door and the other interested parties didn't have the funds to pay for stability. The nation would be thrown into civil war in short order. Dr. Three and Yassen would see it as yet another business opportunity. He wouldn't be surprised if he was back there in 3 or 4 years when NATO came knocking again. If he did, he would make the Oligarchs pay through the nose because it would be a bitch to pull off a second coup and the first one hadn't been that easy either.

"You did not see a business opportunity in maintaining the coup?"

It was a test more than a legitimate question. "NATO will be watching the situation carefully. If we took any further steps we would only confirm that we were behind it and draw their attention. The secondary objective of our operatives was to remain anonymous."

"The secondary objective was to be profitable." Yassen corrected and he was right but Alex was ready for that too.

"I did not want to hinder future business opportunities. If we were to be too direct the western intelligence agencies may decide that we are in Russia's back pocket and take their business elsewhere."

Yassen nodded in approval. An easy victory but he would take what he could get.

"And what of our teams in the area?"

"All non essential assets will be withdrawn within the week. I briefed our trafficking rings and they will be stepping in once the conflict ignites." The statement was as neutral as he could possibly get it. It had taken more than a little self control to hold those meetings but he had done it because if he didn't he would be sent back to do it, possibly with the order to be more hands on with their business as punishment.

"Did you see any other opportunities in the area?"

"We could have some of our arms contacts reach out to the resistance."

"Why didn't you act proactively on that?" Yassen asked evenly.

Was that sincere or a test? Yassen's poker face was impenetrable. He didn't know why he even tried. It had to be a test. Well, he hoped, because he really thought he had taken the right steps by being cautious on their involvement.

"Acting against the interests of our clients during the operation could hinder future business opportunities with them and acting on it now would draw unnecessary attention from all parties." He had noted as much in his written reports and basically said as much earlier. Alex wanted to point out that if they had thought it advisable they could have told him a month ago when he had first brought it up. He also wanted to go to sleep and challenging them would only drag this out further.

"We have third party contacts who could have benefitted from the contract and paid for the tip off." Dr. Three observed.

Alex's heart froze.

Damn it. He hadn't considered that. Had only focused on the mission and making SCORPIAs reputation come out intact.

He had failed.

"I missed the opportunity. I will reach out to them immediately."

Yassen and Dr. Three could have mentioned it to him earlier but they wanted him to fail so he could learn how to handle it constructively. He had shown that he struggled with it quite clearly. Yassen had walked him through the appropriate response after the first time - Acknowledge and Act. It was easy in theory until you were staring down the world's foremost authority on torture and the man who had effectively molded him into what he was now. They wouldn't inflict any lasting harm but they wouldn't have to. Mainly because the feeling of failure was enough to make Alex pliable to their wishes.

"It will be unnecessary. We have already notified them. They have begun the bidding process."

Of course they had already cleaned up his mess. They wouldn't even let him fix it to feel slightly better about it. Realistically, he knew it was because it was time sensitive, Alex being forced to deal with the failure without the crutch of getting to correct it was just a bonus.

"Yes, sir."

The two shared a look. Was that it? Was he going to get off that easy? He had overthrown a country's government and almost been assassinated, he expected more push back.

"You are dismissed." Yassen stated but made no indication that he wanted Alex to wait. Fine with him. He wouldn't look that horse in the mouth.

He had just reached the doors when Dr. Three stopped him "Alex?"

"Sir?"

"Get some sleep, you look dead on your feet." It was that innocent, concerned tone that had never meant anything good for Alex.

"Yes, sir" Not getting off easy, then. He had almost forgotten his earlier anxiety in the face of his failure. He only breathed a sigh of relief when the doors shut behind him. He was sure they had something planned but it could wait until after he slept or they would have handled it now. It would be a waiting game but he was too exhausted to start playing now.

…...

Yassen let him sleep for three merciful days. True to form he hadn't even emerged until the second day. After that he hadn't needed to. Every time he woke up there were two bottles of water and a plate of calorie rich food next to his bed. He was grateful, even if he could barely finish half the plate. It was strange, Yassen usually enjoyed seeing him stumbling about half conscious if for nothing else than just to know he was alive. He didn't really think much of it until he finally woke up with his wits about him on the third day. And when he did think of it, his blood chilled.

Yassen had been concerned enough about his health to go to Marcus. Had obviously been unhappy with his state when he gave his report. Knew just how bad off he had been from controlling his food and water for the last two days. Suddenly the kind gesture had a darker tone to it. He wasn't going to make it out of this unscathed.

What was Yassen planning? He wasn't sure he wanted to know. The best he could hope for was a lecture but he never got off lightly. Not when it had to do with his health and especially not when it was something that they had extensively covered before, even if that had been 4 years ago in Russia. The number of calories and sleep he needed had changed since then but he had been informed about the changes every time Dr. Javarti checked him over. There was no excuse that would be good enough. Best to get it over with, whatever it was.

He walked into his en suite and saw a combat outfit already laid out, boots and all.

He took the hint - showered and dressed and hesitantly made his way to Yassen's office. As soon as he entered Yassen looked up from his laptop and studied him.

"Feeling rested?" there wasn't even a drop of sincere concern in that question.

Not good.

Yassen never asked that and especially not in that tone.

"Yes, sir"

"Good. Let's go."

He didn't bother asking where. He had a feeling he already knew, the white Mercedes waiting for them outside was enough of a clue. The ride to Malagosto was silent. The grounds of the school even more so. Where were the students? Maybe on an exercise or with the Countess. He had a feeling wherever they were it was to keep them away from whatever Yassen had planned for him, the knot in the pit of his stomach tightened.

Dr. Javarti was waiting for them the moment they entered the clinic. She directed him to a bed and Yassen took his place leaning silently against the wall as she ran him through a physical. They hadn't even done this before RTI. Alex almost threw up at the thought. He wouldn't, would he? If it would get the point across, Yassen would do it. The fact that he was still here with him meant that it was a distinct possibility.

"He's a little dehydrated but not more so than most. I could start an IV…" she wasn't even talking to him. Just to Yassen.

"No. This should be sufficient." Yassen turned his steely blue gaze to him. "Remember how you feel now - fully rested and at the height of your mental acuity and strength."

No. Not good.

Something must have shown on his face. "You keep pushing your limits in the field, Alex. I would be remiss in not helping you find them in a more controlled environment."

Fuck.

"Come. Let's get started."

Alex slowly trailed behind him as they walked out to the armory. There wasn't a soul in sight. Not even Ross. The range was clear of the tang of gun smoke. It hadn't been used today at all then, which meant no one was here. Malagosto had been cleared for him so Yassen could teach him this lesson in private.

At least he had done that. It was going to be bad enough without an audience.

He turned for instruction. "You will disassemble, reassemble, shoot 10 rounds and clean every type of gun in the armory."

Assuming nothing had changed there were roughly 100 unique firearms for him to go through. It would take him hours.

He didn't bother mentioning that. Just went over to the unlocked room and got started. He expected Yassen to leave. Instead, the man pulled a laptop out from a bag stashed near the wall and settled down to work. Great. He would be watched too.

Alex flew through the guns with practiced motions. Some were easier than others. His time in Russia and Malagosto had made him comfortable with all of them but some he hadn't touched in years. He stumbled over a few, noting Yassen's eyes trail up when his hands hesitated or slowed, no doubt taking a mental note of the model for future practice.

The firing went a lot smoother. Shooting Alex could do. Perfect scores each time. 10 rounds was nothing when speed didn't matter and the targets remained stationary. As he finished cleaning the last set he expected the man to tell him to do it all again with moving targets but instead he just closed the laptop and set it to the side.

"Sparring mats. Begin your workout routine." Yassen ordered. Alex didn't hesitate, just took off at a run to Yermalov's domain. He was grateful that the man wasn't around. Yassen intended to run him into the ground and he didn't need Yermalov's help to do it. The fact that the instructor wasn't here was another clue. He would never let anyone on his mats alone without supervision. If there was a chance to teach he would be here. That he wasn't meant that the teachers had likely been ousted too. The thought that SCORPIAs entire elite school had been sent away for this was a testament to how serious Yassen and Dr. Three took it. Dr. Three in particular, with his deep appreciation for the school and its role in keeping SCORPIA competitive, wouldn't clear the grounds if he didn't think it was absolutely vital. Alex had fucked up big time to earn this kind of reaction from the good doctor. He wondered if Yassen would hand him over to Three next. Maybe after sparring.

Surprisingly, he was wrong.

"Range." The man ordered as Alex climbed back to his feet after being batted harshly back down to the mat for the 7th time in an hour. It took him a second to process the command.

When he did, he wasn't sure he would have rather gone to Dr. Three. They were going to repeat this over and over again, probably until he collapsed. It had taken roughly 6 hours the first time. There was no telling how long it would drag out for after this.

He looked up to Yassen for confirmation.

"I will expect you to take note of how your reaction times and decision making slow as the lack of sleep and water set in." He wouldn't let him drink anything either. Alex had been too nervous to ask before. Now he was glad he didn't. He'd likely get some comment about how if he didn't need it on a major operation then he wouldn't need it here.

"Yes, sir."

"Range. Now." The man commanded and Alex took off at a run.

Disassemble. Reassemble. Shoot. Clean. Run. Fight. 6 hours.

There wasn't much difference the second time he ran through the exercises. He slowed a little as he went through the guns but that was mainly because he knew he would need to conserve his energy. The frantic response to uncertainty was gone, replaced by cold clarity of what the next few days would hold. The gnawing dryness of his mouth was the worst of it. He felt like he was constantly swallowing trying to sate his thirst but it did little to stop it and soon enough he felt like he was running out of spit to swallow. He steeled himself against asking Yassen for water. He would just be told no. And it was just what the man would want. Instead, he watched covetously as the man drank from one of the many bottles he had stored next to his bag.

Disassemble. Reassemble. Shoot. Clean. Run. Fight. 7 hours.

The third time through his fingers began to stumble over the parts. Not many, but enough that he noticed. Not a good sign. He was tired but not overly so. Definitely not enough that he should be having problems already. The dehydration was definitely making it worse. It would only go downhill from here. Yassen was catching him in sparring with hits that he normally would have blocked. His reaction time was slowing and he found himself tired out faster. Barely 15 minutes into sparring and he was breathing like he had run a marathon. Yassen waited until he had beaten Alex down to the mat before he spoke again.

"Have you learned your lesson?"

Alex glared hatefully up at him. He knew he deserved this but really they could have just talked to him about it first. Given him a chance. But they always had to teach him the hard way. He supposed he could add irritability to his growing list of effects.

Yassen narrowed his eyes and lashed out with another kick forcing Alex to roll out of the way and get back to his feet.

Disassemble. Reassemble. Shoot. Clean. Run. Fight. Repeat. 10 hours.

One of Dr. Three's assistants had joined them, monitoring Alex closely but not stepping in. Yassen used the additional supervision to sleep. Alex hated him for it. He also hated the slight slosh of water that Yassen made sure he heard every time he took a drink. Normally the man was quiet as a fucking mouse which meant he was doing it just taunt Alex. It was working. Still, he didn't ask for water. Still, they didn't speak not until Yassen slammed him to the mat after another brutal hour of sparring.

"Have you learned your lesson?"

He still didn't say anything.

"Get up." he ordered stiffly and Alex pulled himself up, muscles groaning in protest.

Disassemble. Reassemble. Shoot. Clean. Run. Fight. Repeat. 8 hours.

"Have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes, sir."

This time Yassen pulled him up off the mat and Alex stumbled, a steadying hand grabbed his shoulder then pushed him toward the door. Back to the gun range. He tried to run, but a wave of dizziness brought Alex back down to his knees.

Yassen and the assistant were by him in an instant, carefully checking him over.

"Just dehydrated." The man pronounced. "He should be fine to continue."

He wanted to protest but knew better than to expect it would do anything. Yassen nodded to the assistant and stood, holding out a hand that Alex gratefully took. He honestly wasn't sure he could get up on his own right now.

"Walk with me." Yassen commanded and Alex obediently fell into step next to him.

Disassemble. Reassemble. Shoot. Clean. Run. Fight. Repeat. 13 hours.

Yassen didn't even sleep this time. His eyes stayed on Alex. Watching as he fumbled tiredly with the small parts. Dropping more than he held steady. His hands were visibly shaking. His eyes kept drifting shut only to earn a stiff jostle from Yassen. He couldn't even bring himself to be mad at him. He was just. So. Tired. His shooting had taken a turn for the worse two rounds ago but now it was embarrassing. He had done better when he had first started in Russia. He prayed that these scores would never make the light of day. If Ross knew he would never live it down.

His cleaning was shit too. His hands were covered in smears of gun butter and oil that he kept having to wipe on his pants. Yassen was watching so he knew that none of the guns were in bad enough shape that they would be dangerous but from his disapproving frown they were definitely not up to par. Alex agreed but soldiered through. As the hours dragged he began to lose focus and he found himself stopping, getting lost in what had once been a natural, ingrained rhythm. Only Yassen shaking his shoulder brought him back to the task at hand and he would tiredly try to figure out where he was at.

The workout was a joke. He had to stop and start more times than he would ever admit as he lost his energy or his balance or his focus because it was getting really hard to remember what he was doing. Counting his reps was long out the window. He just went until he hit a wall and then moved to the next. Yassen didn't stop or correct him. Just let him push himself through,

Yassen had never been this gentle on him in sparring. Ever. But Alex needed it because if Yassen even went half as hard as they normally did he would probably be dead or at least back with Javardi with some broken bones and torn ligaments. This time Yassen didn't have to knock him to the mat. Alex fell to his hands and knees on his own as the world spun around him.

He distantly registered Yassen crouching down in front of him and cupping his chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. "Have you learned your lesson?" Alex was too tired to do anything other than look up at him with pleading eyes.

Yassen studied him then nodded to someone behind him.

No.

No more.

He was pulled back onto something hard and laid prone, straps pulled across him. He didn't know why. It's not like he could fight it right now. His eyes drifted closed but this time there was no shake to wake him.

Alex woke up in a bed in Javarti's clinic. The rhythmic clicking of keys told him that Yassen was sitting next to him. Of course he was. He was almost lulled back to sleep by it until it abruptly stopped.

"How are you feeling?" He tiredly cracked open his eyes and looked over.

Exhausted. Sore. Beaten down. But Yassen knew those and honestly they weren't the strongest feelings he had right now. "I'm sorry" his voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. Yassen grabbed the large jug of water from the tray table and held the straw out for him, thankfully. It hurt just thinking of holding it himself.

"You know your limits now. I trust we will not have to repeat this."

"No, sir."

Never again.

Ever.

Alex got the message loud and clear - he wouldn't get tortured for failing a mission but he would for neglecting his health. He understood it to an extent. If he weakened himself and got killed in the field because of it, all of Yassen and Three's plans would be for naught. They could fix failures but they couldn't fix that. This was their way of communicating that in a way that he would be unable to forget.

And he wouldn't.

Yassen seemed to know exactly what he was thinking and nodded. "Good. I will let Dr. Javarti know that you are awake."

He slumped back into the bed and closed his eyes.

Never again.