"I just love that feeling when I'm about to be shot at," Taylor whined.

"Is there anywhere else you'd like to be?" I put my chin up and frowned at him. I wasn't in the mood for his negativity right now.

"Hell no." he laughed.

"Alpha One, this is EOD. The last of the wires are set up. You wanna double check this lab for anything you need, cos it'll blow the entire wing of this building." Spenser's voice sounded mechanical over the comm.

"Copy, can you wait one," I clicked off and turned to the Doctor. "Hey, Doctor Death, Lucy. You got everything you need?"

"To prove the regime was making nerve agent?" He replied.

"Yeah," I breathed.

Dr Lucian nodded. "Absolutely. I collected enough to poison half the country. This was some leak. I'm amazed they're not all dead considering what they must have taken into their bodies. Guess they got lucky."

I looked at him in wonder. How could anything man-made be more deadly that what we had seen?

I stared at the civilians hunkered down in the hallway, waiting for an attack.

Kowalski looked at me and strode over.

"Let me ask you, do you think the Syrians cleaned their equipment right?" I asked.

Kowalski frowned. "I guess so, I didn't think about it much."

"Yeah, why wouldn't they, after creating the most toxic stuff known to man," I emphasised on the man part.

"Yeah, so?"

I pushed the button on my comm. "Tac, this is Alpha One, we have a problem."

Kowalski looked at me confused.

"Our chem guy is saying that the samples he's collected are not going to test positive for a banned agent. He's thinking they're possibly diluted. Please advise?" I spoke into the comm, waiting for a reply. And hopefully a resolution.

"Stand by, Alpha One."

"Yes ma'am, standing by."

Kowalski was still confused. "They need evidence this place laced with poison and if we can't bring them the samples, then-"

"They're evidence." I pointed to the civilians.

Kowalski grinned. "Oh, that's good stuff, Trig. Nice." He shared a fist bump while we waited for the authorisation.

"Alpha One, good to go."

"Great, how many vehicles is he sending?" I asked.

"You will have enough. Tac out." She clicked off.

I breathed a sigh of relief. It was go time. "Alright, convoy is inbound, which means we need to get everyone there, out and ready to travel." I shouted to my men who began frantically to gather their gear. "The enemy is two kilometres out, which mean, hey-multiple vehicles. We gotta move now! Now!"

We all scrambled to get the people out of the hall way and out to the courtyard, to await the vehicles.

The sun was shining brightly outside, meaning we were out of time. Carefully rushing them outside, the convoy was screeching to a halt by the door.

One-by-one the patients were crowded onto two of three gun trucks, sent by the Green Berets.

"Hurry, hurry, Move, move!" I slapped the back of my hand a few times, and swung my rifle around my shoulder and climbed into to the truck where the young boy had been carried in.

I grabbed him and put him down in my lap, ready to go.

"Alpha One, we have Syrian troops on the edge of town and advancing." The comms chattered as the last of the women were being loaded into the truck, and the Seals jumped in.

There was a blast just a few meters away, penetrating the hospital's outer wall.

More RPG's fired at us as the trucked lurched forward and sped off down the narrow street.

There was just too much shooting from all directions for me to sort out what was going on. Bullets were zinging around us and RPGs (Rocket Propelled Grenade) had started to fly. I could see a cloud of smoke and a flash and then track the fat arc of a grenade as it rocketed home. Brass shell casings were piling up around the man in the turret.

I looked over my shoulder at the Humvee following us, sand being blasted over it. I looked over at Spenser, who aimed his gun outside, but no ground troops to fire on. "Blow it! Blow it!" I shouted.

He looked back to me and nodded. He screamed Fire in the hole! Before pushing the button on his remote.

Taylor smiled widely. He loved this part. We all watched at the hospital behind us to see a massive explosion of stone, sand and fire.

As we emerged out of the street, we passed several solders firing on us and the men in the turrets above the trucks began to fire back.

I held the boy's head in my hands and covered his ears as the massive 50cal fired, deafening us.

Finally, we were out of the town and on our way to the border. The gun fire stopped, and I looked down at the boy, who had stopped breathing. I shook him gently, waiting for a response, even just a little rise and fall of his chest, but nothing.

He lay limp on my lap as I wiped the stress from my eyes in disappointment.

We were too late for him.

I found myself looking at Kowalski, who watched me with sorry eyes.

WASHINGTON D.C

They were laughing. Flag, Taylor and Perry all had their hair entirely saturated with rain. Spenser and Hayes were leaning away as Taylor shook his dripping

hair toward them.

They were enjoying the rainy day, just like everyone else — only they looked more like a scene from a movie than the rest of us.

But, aside from the laughter and playfulness, there was something different, and I couldn't quite pinpoint what that difference was.

I examined Flag the most carefully. His skin was less pale, I decided — flushed from the rain maybe — the circles under his eyes much less noticeable.

But there was something more.

I pondered, staring, trying to isolate the change.

Other than the clean shaven face, he looked…better.

"Trig, what are you staring at?" Kowalski intruded, his eyes following my stare.

At that precise moment, Flag's eyes flashed over to meet mine.

I dropped my head, letting my hair fall to conceal my face. I was sure, though, in the instant our eyes met, that he didn't look punitive or hostile as he usually did.

He looked merely curious, unsatisfied in some way.

"Colonel is staring at you," Kowalski chuckled in my ear.

"He doesn't look angry, does he?" I couldn't help asking.

"No," he said, sounding confused by my question. "Should he be?"

"I don't think he likes me," I confided. I felt queasy. I put my head down on my arm.

"He doesn't like anyone, remember? How can he not like you after the shit you pulled in Syria? He's still staring at you, actually."

"Stop looking at him," I hissed.

He snickered, but he looked away. I raised my head enough to make sure that he did, contemplating carnage if he resisted.

Hayes interrupted us then — he was planning an epic battle of the paintball in the range after fitness training and wanted us to join.

Kowalski agreed un-enthusiastically.

The way he looked at Hayes left little doubt that he would be up for anything he suggested.

I kept silent. I would have to hide in the gym until the range cleared.

For the rest of the lunch hour I very carefully kept my eyes at my own table.

I decided to honour the bargain I'd made with myself. Since he didn't look angry, I would go to medical. My stomach did frightened little flips at the thought of sitting near to him again.

I didn't really want to walk to the barracks with Hayes as usual — he seemed to be a popular target for the paintball snipers — but when we went to the door, everyone besides me groaned in unison. It was still raining.

I pulled my hood up, secretly pleased. I would be free to go straight to the gym after all.

I grinned to myself as I made my way to my bunker, and thought perhaps everyone else had their own jobs to do.

Hayes kept up a string of complaints on the way to building four.

Once inside the medical room, I saw with relief that my room was still empty.

I kept my eyes away from the door, doodling idly on the cover of my notebook while trying to come up with topics for my next email to my brother, Andy.

I heard very clearly when the chair next to me moved, but my eyes stayed carefully focused on the pattern I was drawing.

"Hello," said a quiet, musical voice.

I looked up, stunned that he was speaking to me. He was sitting as far away from me as the desk allowed, but his chair was angled toward me. His hair was dripping wet, disheveled — even so, he looked like he'd just finished shooting a commercial for hair gel. His dazzling face was friendly, open, a slight smile on his lips.

But his eyes were careful.

"You can call me Rick," he continued. "I should have introduced myself properly."

My mind was spinning with confusion. Had I made up the whole thing? He was perfectly polite now.

I had to speak; he was waiting. But I couldn't think of anything conventional to say.

"Let's get started then," I suggested, taking out his file.

"Oh, I'm not here for that." He looked down at the card folder in my hand.

I felt my eyebrows pinch. "Oh. You want to talk some more?"

He nodded slightly. "I was rude to you before. And I'm sorry."

My eyes widened, and I put my hand to my ear in response. "What did you say?"

Flag grinned. "I don't think anyone said anything,"

I scoffed. "So you heard about Syria then?" I bowed my head, feeling my face burn.

He nodded again, but kept his eyes on me. "Yeah."

"Look, I had to make a call, and no one else wanted to that the job."

"Mmm-hmm," he hummed. "Look, the way I see it, you made a legal call. You also saved twenty three lives."

"Twenty two." I corrected. "One didn't make it."

"Right." He replied. "But you saved them. If it were me, I would have left them."

I shook my head. "No, you wouldn't."

He looked surprised.

I looked away awkwardly. "So how was your time away? You come back a box of fluffies, sir."

"I uh, went to visit my mother and sisters." He peeked at me sideways.

"That's great. Looks like it helped you." I put his folder away on the shelf with the others, satisfied it didn't need it.

Flag sighed. "Trig, you did a great job while I was away. You earned the trust of the team."

"Well, what about you?" I asked.

"Huh?"

I scoffed. "What about your trust? Seems impossible to meet your standards."

"Oh, I have standards. Just a shame I can't reach them myself."

My head tilted sideways. "Don't be so hard on yourself. We trust you-"

He looked at me, skeptical.

"Enough," I looked up to see him smiling a crooked smile so beautiful that I could only stare at him like an idiot.

"You did a great job, and I should be thanking you. I was supposed to be there." His smile faded.

I shrugged. "Work experience,"

He nodded. "Sure. Have you thought about doing the CO exam? You would be a very valuable asset to the DEVGRU's."

I swallowed hard, surprised. "N-no, I haven't."

"You should. Good leadership is hard to come by." He unleashed the full, devastating power of his eyes on me, as if trying to communicate something crucial.

"Think about it." He added.

I nodded slowly. "Okay, I will."

"It seems the team have accepted you, and that's a good thing. You have achieved more in one op than I have in nine years." He laughed without humour.

"You've been in Alpha Dogs for that long?" I asked, in complete awe.

I found it hard to believe the words that fell out of his mouth. Two reasons.

One: He didn't look old enough to be even a Colonel.

Two: How does one act the way Flag does, and not having any friends in the team?

Nine years was a long time to be wallowing in self-pity and hatred for everyone and everything.

This changed things.

The corners of his lips tugged upwards slightly. "Yes," he replied bluntly. "Well, the Alpha Dogs you know of today haven't been around that long, so they don't know that. Shhh." He enunciated every syllable, as if he were talking to someone mentally handicapped, then let out a coy laugh, his eyes were wickedly amused.

"Okay, well, it seems you no longer need my assistance." I sighed, looking down at my desk when his eyes released mine.

"I'll leave you to it, but I just wanted to say thank you. What you said last time was a wake- up call." he explained. "But I'd like to buy you a beer sometime. I like you, Major Jaz Chapman."

His eyes were gloriously intense as he uttered that last sentence, his voice smouldering. I couldn't remember how to breathe.

Blackburn burst into the room without knocking, forcing us to rip our eyes from each other. "Am I interrupting?" He panted.

"Oh please…interrupt." Flag droned with heavy sarcasm. His arrogant self was back in that instant.

Blackburn ignored the snide comment. "We have time sensitive information, and we need the team on the ground."

We both stood up at the same time, and followed Blackburn to the situation room.