Amir would never admit it out loud but he was glad for the distance he was putting between himself and the team right now. He might rather it be on a motorcycle or in a nice car, but he would take on horseback if it gave him the means to escape for a bit and clear his head. He needed to try and recover some rationality.
He was an intelligence operative, dammit. Trained to be calm, neutral, impassive, objective...none of which he was feeling right now. He didn't do heated outbursts, he could separate his emotions from missions and stay objective. And yet, there he had stood practically having a tantrum when Preach made his decisions. He didn't understand what had happened to him, why he was so compromised by this mission.
It wasn't the old school-ness of the mission. The rest of the team may have been apprehensive about unplugging and going without communications, but for him that was normal. He honestly preferred going into a situation without extra voices in his head. Able to stay completely focused and in the moment rather than having to split his attention. Jaz had been skeptical last mission when he insisted on resuming his undercover work without a wire. He hoped that maybe after seeing him navigate through the threat in Paris she might now understand it a bit better. He already had to split his focus in two, adopting the mannerisms of his undercover persona while maintaining a hold on the mission priority. Add in extra voices in your ear and it became a party. It only took one extra long pause or reaction to a voice only he could hear, and he would have been dead long before the team could have gotten to him.
Was it the purpose of the mission? The fact that they were doing all this for some technology allowing them to get intelligence about future drone travel. He knew the other team members were struggling a bit with the potential cost of that small piece of grey fabric. Weighing the benefits of the swatch with the fact that they may lose their leader over it. But as he considered this, it still didn't explain his outbursts. Everything he had done previous to joining this team had been in pursuit of information. He had risked his life for intelligence that may or may not have been actionable and may or may not have paid off down the road. He had played people, betrayed people, even killed people all to get a scrap of information that might prove useless in the end. He, better than anyone, knew the value of good Intel in their ever evolving political and military climate and understood that sometimes it unfortunately was worth more than a life.
His confused thoughts had carried him far from the team and looking back the direction he came from he couldn't see them anymore. His sense of unease increased and in a flash of clarity he found the insight he had been searching for. It wasn't the mission at all, it was the team. The potential consequences to his team and his leader that was what was making it hard for him to stay rational about this mission. The former spy was used to being the lone man in a situation. Fully immersed in whatever world he was infiltrating. Surfacing only to make periodic contact with his handler. But now he had become part of a close knit team, and apparently had learned to rely on them more than he realized over the last few months.
He had initially found it to be a hard adjustment. They were just always around. Whether on or off the mission they spent an inordinate amount of time together. It was truly like joining a second family, with annoying siblings and parental figures all included. And it had not been without its bumps. Jaz, for example had been a puzzle to solve, unwelcoming and unwilling to accept his presence at first. It had been Dalton's insight that had helped him understand and build bridges with the sniper. He had come to appreciate their constant presence on missions and find his niche on the team. It was satisfying that they now counted on him to watch their backs and he found a new freedom in his work being able to trust that someone was always watching his.
So when he had argued with Preach it hadn't been a rational analysis about the plan itself or the value of the drone skin. It had been the fear. The fear of losing one of his teammates, of losing another family member. Dalton in particular had selected him for this team and had stood by him during the rocky first few missions helping him find his place. While others may have doubted his skills, his motives, his loyalty, Top had trusted him unreservedly and valued his opinions. With each mission his respect for the man had grown and he had believed him infallible. The entire team had infiltrated his defenses and become people he was terrified to fail like he had failed his sister. His brain conjured up the last few images of Top, practically suffocating as he failed to bring in air. He replayed the kitchen table surgery that McG had done in the middle of the field to get the man some relief and prayed that it would hold as they moved him.
He finally caught sight of the Mongolian village where they had started this journey. Letting out a relieved sigh he set about reconnecting his communications devices eager to make contact. First he reactivated his GPS, then fiddled with his audio comm. Adjusting it in his ear but frowning when he heard nothing. He played around with the device, switching channels before finally groaning and reinserting the battery the proper way. Dumbass. Now hearing the slight buzz of empty air he pressed down and broke the silence
"Command do you read?"