Author's Note: I can't believe I actually finished writing this, it's an absolute miracle.

I had a random plot bunny, then I started reading Good People by Reveriewings and turned into a bit of a Metal fangirl so he started taking over the story and I began writing it thinking I'd get bored. But the more I wrote, the more I got into it and the more I actually turned myself into a Trent fan? So this went through several iterations and ultimately became a story about the secondary members of Bravo along with their Afghan strap. I'm *mostly* happy with how this came out, but I may edit it a little bit as I post. Should update once or twice a week.

Please read the warnings! This story is very dark and deals with torture, rape, and suicidal thoughts. Nothing is overly graphic or detailed, much of it happens in the background or off-camera, but it's definitely not for everyone.

This hasn't been beta'd so feel free to point out any mistakes you catch. If anyone is interested in being a beta for it, let me know.

Chapter 1: The Mission

Bravo team exited their temporary living quarters at Shindand Air Force Base, boots hitting the hot, dusty dirt that was the main characteristic of Afghanistan. They were on a quick spin-up to assist with an exfil of an HVT, though details of their mission thus far had been scarce.

"I hate the desert," Sonny whined, sliding sunglasses over his squinted eyes. "Too damn hot, too much dirt, and I always seem to get shot when I'm here."

Ray scoffed, walking two steps behind him. "Think you picked the wrong war to sign up for then, brother."

Sonny mumbled under his breath as the group headed towards the command building. A familiar face was waiting for them just outside the doors.

"Welcome back to the sandbox, fellas."

A chorus of greetings went up in surprise and excitement as they stopped in front of the Afghan woman clad in a standard Naval deployment uniform.

"Well, damn," Sonny said as he swept her up in a hug. "When they said we had a strap tagging along, they didn't mention it was you. I woulda been less grumpy on the plane."

Petty Officer Feiyaz Amani was a fifteen-year veteran of the US Navy, deciding after college that she wanted to serve both her country and the one that had given refuge to her family. She was born and raised in Afghanistan and migrated to the United States soon after 9/11 when her father's life as a higher educator had been put in jeopardy. Now, she contributed her language skills and knowledge of the area and cultures to teams headed outside the wire.

Feiyaz smiled, returning the hug. "As I recall, Sonny Quinn, you're always fairly grumpy."

"What are you still doing here?" Jason asked adjusting his sunglasses. "We've seen you on at least half a dozen spin-ups over the last year. Don't you ever go home?"

She shrugged, a sheepish grin on her face. "There's nothing fun back home. Besides, they asked me to sign on for an extended deployment, and who am I to say no to Uncle Sam?"

Ray stepped up with a smile, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Well, we're glad to have you with us regardless."

She returned the warm smile and nodded her head towards the command center. "Best not be late," she said as Ray opened the door and motioned the team inside.

Blackburn stepped forward as the group entered and motioned them toward the screens at the front of the room. "Let's get started, shall we?" He pointed to the face on the screen. "You all are familiar with Shahzar Zaman, who has been holed up in his compound south of Shindand City in the Zerkoh Valley for the last year. His trips outside the compound are erratic and hard to predict, and a direct assault on his compound would take more Seals than the Navy has to offer. Six months ago, we learned of his newest wife, Amira Shahidi, who just so happens to be the grade school classmate of our very own Petty Officer Amani."

Eyes turned to look at Feiyaz expectantly and she shrugged. "We grew up about forty klicks north of the city in the Adraskan District. We weren't best friends or anything, but we were friendly enough that me chatting her up in the city market one day didn't raise any suspicions."

Ray rubbed a hand through his beard, voicing the first thought on everyone's mind. "She doesn't know you're US military?"

Feiyaz shook her head. "The locals don't seem to have put the pieces together. Any time I'm trying to connect with my contacts, I spin a story about being an aid worker to explain my travels."

"And she's willing to turn on her new husband? Does she even know anything?" Jason asked arms crossed over his chest.

With a shrug, Feiyaz braced her hands on the table in front of her. "Yes, she wants out already, but that's the end of the guarantees. She's been with him less than a year, so her knowledge of his inner workings is probably limited. But what got this mission greenlit is she mentioned an upcoming trip he's planning to take, and she seems to know exact dates and locations."

"And she won't just give you this information first, so we can see if it ends up being legit?" Jason seemed skeptical, and rightfully so. This wasn't sounding like a very solid lead.

"I couldn't push too hard for information without risking my cover, and I'm afraid if I tell her I'm military, she'll spook. I just told her I had connections from the aid organizations that could get her out in exchange for information."

Several uncertain faces shared looks amongst themselves, and Blackburn stepped in. "I know it's a long shot and I don't love it either, but we've been after this guy for years. If we can get a beat on him leaving his compound, we might finally be able to grab him."

Jason sighed, still not convinced this mission would result in much of anything. But he agreed, it was likely worth a shot. And they were already here, so what the hell.

"Alright, what's the play?"

Lisa stepped up, changing the photo on the screen to that of an enlarged aerial map of the city. "During their encounter last week, Feiyaz agreed to meet Shahidi in the market tomorrow at fourteen hundred hours. The plan is to have her go in and make contact, then lead Shahidi to a vehicle for extraction. Bravo team will support and provide security to the exfil point two klicks east of the city."

"What kind of resistance can we expect?" Ray asked.

"That's where it gets dicey," Feiyaz replied with a wince. "Amira always travels with no less than eight of Zaman's men on her visits to the city. I can make contact without ringing any alarm bells, so the idea would be to slip away from her guards and get out quick."

Sonny raised a hand sarcastically. "Eight dudes? What's the catch there, little lady?"

"The catch is the city is full of Zaman's supporters who wouldn't hesitate to join the fight. If his men catch on and get the call out, we could have a militia between us and our exfil."

"So we get rid of the guards." Jason waved a hand as he ran through the mission parameters in his head, looking for the most viable option. "We quietly pick them off one by one in the market while Yaz is escorting the HVT to the getaway vehicle."

Lisa shook her head from where she stood at the front of the room. "You guys would stand out like sore thumbs, even in civilian clothes. Ray and Brock could probably get by, but it's a large open market. If the guards spread out, you'll never get to them all fast enough."

Ray moved closer to the screen, looking at the possible routes into the market. "Are there any chokepoints for an ambush along the way in? We could take out a vehicle before they even get there?"

From the side of the room, Clay shook his head. "Too risky. We won't know which vehicle our HVT is in, or if she's even with them. We could get her on the way out though. We have one team with Yaz in the market to make contact and let our target know the plan for extraction. The second team is waiting at the interdiction location close to the edge of the city."

"That's a solid play," Ray replied with a nod. "That won't give his supporters any time to organize and cause problems. We take out the guards and get to the exfil before anyone knows what's going on."

Jason was also nodding his head in agreement. "Ray, I want you dressed local with Yaz in the market to approach the target." He raised a hand to cut the woman off as she opened her mouth to object. "No way are you going in on your own."

"I've met with her a dozen times on my own already, I'll be fine."

Blackburn cleared his throat, hands braced against the table in front of him. "I have to agree with the Master Chief. This isn't like your last encounters with her, and if anything goes wrong, you'll need the backup."

Feiyaz huffed and crossed her arms over her chest with a glare. "Fine, but he stays back when I make contact. I don't want to scare her off."

"Fine," Jason replied. "Ray and Yaz will meet up with the HVT in the market to confirm the plan with her. Brock and Metal will provide support from the vehicle and recon the security team. Sonny, Clay, Trent, and I will position at the interdiction point. Everyone in agreement?"

All heads in the room nodded their confirmation, then turned their attention to Blackburn. "Good. We'll have vehicles ready at thirteen hundred tomorrow. Debrief over."

The sun was high in the sky when Bravo Team and their tagalong gathered by the base's front gate where two nondescript vans waited for them. Ray and Feiyaz were donning local garb to help them blend in better at the market, while the rest of the team was dressed in their civilian clothes and light tactical vests to be discreet should a fight break out in town.

Jason whistled to get everyone's attention so they could go over the plan one final time. "Listen up. Brock, Metal, you're with Yaz and Ray." Jason turned to the latter. "You two are making contact with the target and advising of the exfil plan, that's it. Brock, Metal, you're back up and recon. Find the security detail, confirm the number of guards with the target, and confirm which vehicle she's in. The four of you will follow when they leave to confirm their exit route. Do not engage unless you absolutely have to. Sonny, Trent, Clay, you're with me at our interdiction point on what we assume their exit route is. If the exit route has changed from plan, we fall back to our predetermined alternate points. We'll hit from the front, and Bravo Two's team will come up from behind. Everyone copy?"

The group muttered their acceptance of the plan and moved toward their respective vans.

"Yaz, wait." Jason's stern voice had her turning back to face him. "What are the rules?" he asked, leveling her with a stare.

It was all she could do not to roll her eyes. They did this routine every. single. mission.

But he was Bravo One after all, so she found herself reciting the rules as requested.

"Stick to Ray like dog shit on a shoe and try not to get myself killed." Feiyaz cocked her head with a raised eyebrow. "Can I go now, dad? I promise to be home by midnight."

Jason shook his head with a smirk. "Get in the damn van."

She smiled at him goodnaturedly and climbed into the backseat of the van with Metal, who was checking over his gun for the tenth time that hour. Tucking her standard assault rifle under the bench seat for later, she pulled the handgun from her concealed holster and gave it a final once over as it would be all she would take into the market with her.

Metal looked at her out of the corner of his eye, frowning at the small weapon. "You sure you're okay going in with just that peashooter?" he asked, the gravelly voice almost making her jump but she managed to recover.

"Why wouldn't I be? I have the one and only Full Metal watching my six," Feiyaz replied with a cheeky smile as she adjusted the hijab covering her head. "Besides, leaves more bad guys for you to shoot."

Jason Hayes might be famous in the Naval community, but Full Metal was a proper legend. There was a very real reason why he held the title Alpha One, even if he was on loan to Bravo for the time being. Though Feiyaz had been on several missions with America's most badass individual, both with Alpha and Bravo teams, she still felt a weird mix of hero worship and mild terror whenever he was around.

Metal grunted at her comment, brushing off the implied compliment. "I'm good with that. Just try not to die before I get to you."

She grinned and gave him a mock salute as Brock started the van and headed out of the gate behind the other vehicle.

The seven-mile drive into the town of Shindand was uneventful, passing by farms for most of it.

"Seems like such a quiet place," Brock said from the driver's seat. "Why did the Taliban decide to hole up here?"

Feiyaz sighed from behind him, staring out the window to her left. "It's beautiful out here, but nobody can see it for all the war. It's always been a bit of a melting pot of cultures around here, dozens of separate local tribes call it home. But with the highway nearby, I suppose it also made a good place for bad guys to set up shop. Zaman came up in the ranks many years after I left. He isn't local to the area, but he bought goodwill with the people by keeping the supply routes safe. He's seen as a hero to some deep in the faith."

"A hero that limits the freedom of the people and wages war against those who don't agree with him?" Ray asked sarcastically from the passenger seat. "Doesn't seem like much of a hero to me."

Feiyaz gave a wry smile at the comment and shook her head. "Life is different here, simpler. Many people don't know anything outside their towns. It's much harder to rebel when you don't understand that you're being oppressed."

To the freedom-fighting Americans in the vehicle, that was something of a new concept.

They drove into town a few minutes later, separating from the other van. Brock took directions from Feiyaz as she guided them through the streets. At the center of the town was a large bazaar, which served the inhabitants within forty kilometers as their main source of goods.

Brock pulled the van to a stop right at the mouth of the market, where they would have a good vantage point of who was coming and going.

"One, this is Two," Ray said into the comms. "We're in position at the market."

"Copy, Two," came the reply from Jason. "We're ready when you are."

Ray looked over his shoulder at Feiyaz. "If anything doesn't feel right, you tell me. And if we get separated, I want you to fall back to the van immediately. I mean it."

She nodded gravely, knowing these were much higher stakes than her past market meet-ups with Amira. She didn't want to be the reason that one of these guys got hurt, or worse.

Feiyaz reached for the door handle, stopping just shy as she heard Metal's voice. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he said with a perfectly straight face.

She stared at him blankly for half a second before breaking into a grin. "I'll try." With that, she was out the door and melting into the crowd with Ray.

The bazaar was bustling at this time of day, with people moving from stall to stall to get what they needed. Feiyaz had always enjoyed the sights and sounds of a market. From the brightly colored fabrics to the smell of baked goods and spices to the handmade jewelry, everything was locally sourced and made. It wasn't like shops back in the States, commercial and corporate. The markets here were the livelihood for many in the area.

She must have been smiling because Ray stopped at her side. "Brings back memories?"

"I came here a lot when I was younger, although it was much smaller. I always felt like the market gave a good view of the culture around here, where all the various tribes come together and everyone is happy." She looked down at her watch - it was almost time.

Feiyaz stopped at a stall that gave them a good vantage point of the market's center, smiling at the man behind the table and making small talk in Dari. Beside her, Ray stood like the dutiful fake husband he was playing, his sharp gaze keeping an eye out for the guards they knew were around. She moved to a rack at the front of the stall, pretending to browse the items as she let her eyes trail past them to search the crowd for Amira. She spotted two of the security guards lingering in the distance and could only assume the woman was nearby.

"I see a few of her detail," she said quietly for the comms. "No sign of her yet."

After a few minutes, she smiled again at the shop owner and said farewell before moving to the next stall, keeping her movements casual and unhurried as she glanced at her watch again. At this stall, she felt the need to pull a few coins from her pocket and hand them over in exchange for a small bag of sweet pastries.

"Are you stopping for snacks, Bravo Seven?" she heard Brock ask sarcastically in her ear.

She threw an exasperated glare back towards the van she could barely see. "It'd be suspicious if we walked through the market and didn't buy anything," Feiyaz replied, moving closer to Ray as she spoke to make it look natural. "And if you're a good boy, I'll even share. These are my favorite." She pulled a small piece of pastry from the bag and popped it into her mouth, holding the opening towards her partner, who shook his head with a smile.

Continuing their stroll further into the market, time continued to creep by. It was several minutes after their scheduled meeting time, and Amira was never late. Feiyaz shifted her eyes across the crowd, trying to get a glimpse of her target. The hair stood up on the back of her neck as she quickly spotted a number of armed men scattered throughout the market, not the usual crowd. Some were dressed in the garb typically worn by the guard detail while others looked more like the average market-goer, minus the poorly hidden weapons and tense postures.

Her stomach sank.

Feiyaz turned to Ray quickly, trying to keep her outward appearance calm as she closed the distance between them. "It's a setup. There are too many. We need to go."

Wasting no time, he put a hand on her back and began guiding her towards the van. "Abort, abort, abort," he said quietly for his comms to pick up. "Move to plan Z."

Then everything happened at once.