Now

The Volcano

Naif al-Sheikh walked up to Lucy as she stood admiring a shark swimming outside a window. Al-Sheikh was no longer wearing traditional garb, instead opting to dress in a black business suit.

"Miss Wagner?" said Al-Sheikh, announcing his presence to an absent-minded Lucy, "I'm story if I have startled you."

"Oh... its okay." said Lucy while al-Sheikh reached into his jacket for a pack of cigarettes.

"My name is Naif Al-Sheikh, I have taken over the running of intelligence wing's operations.""

Yes." said Lucy.

"I'm sorry?" said Al-Sheikh as he lit his cigarette.

"I had a dream last night," said Lucy, "We were here and you told me that you were putting together a special team to carry out dangerous and important assignments for the opposition. In my dream I said no, but then you convinced me otherwise, and I accepted... I'm just doing us a favor of sparing us the time. I'm in, I will join your team...And so will Kroenen, I suppose.""

Al-Sheikh coughed, he was in awe.

"How...cough...How did you...?"

"I'm psychic."

"Yes, of course."

"You're arguments in my dream were passionate, by the way," said Lucy, "Very rousing."

"Yes, well, thank you. And thank you for joining. I would like to ask you for a favor."

"I know, I'll keep this to myself for now."

"Precisely," said Al-Sheikh as he awkwardly walked away, "Thank you."

Three Days Ago

Las Vegas

Lord John Byrd wait by the pool in his penthouse in the Montecito accompanied by his manservant Josh, he was waiting for someone whom he had not seen in a long time, yet learned would be coming only that morning. They came through the French doors, a large, rugged man and a tall attractive woman who he had known for some time.

"Jack!" said the young woman as she walked up to Lord John quickly, throwing her arms around him and pulling him into an embrace. Lord John responded in kind and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek.

"Jenny, it's been too long, love." said Byrd, his sophisticated accent evaporating, "Hector!"

"Sparrow." said Barbossa.

"That's amazing, after a century and a half you still say my name with the same disdain."

"Well you know what they say about old habits." said Barbossa with a smirk, "Master Gibbs, when are you going to leave this decadent geezer and come work for me?"

"Oh, I'm afraid you can't afford me, Cap'n." said Joshamee Gibbsas he shook hand with Barbossa.

"So, where's the gent you told me about?" asked Sparrow.

"Downstairs, in the lobby with Costas."

"Mister Gibbs, go see that Mister Costas and Mister MacGuffin are being taken care of. Oh, and send for a bottle of Dom for the three of us." said Sparrow as he sat on an expensive sofa nearby.

"Aye, Jack." said Gibbs as he took his leave.

"Speaking of which, did you get the bottle of Dom I left for you by the fountain?"

"We did. It was wonderful. You look great, Jack." said Jenny as she sat next to Sparrow.

"As do you, crumpit. Why isn't your hair Blonde? It was Blonde the last time I saw you, it was gorgeous!"

"Oh, Hector didn't like it that way."

"Hector has no taste, love. You being the exception. I once saw Hector in dread-locks. Dread locks, for god's sake."

"Hector is right here," said Barbossa, "And would you two stop crawling up each other?"

"Oooh. Hector is getting jealous!" said Sparrow as she spread his arms, "Come here you, give old Jackie a great big one!"

"Shan't."

"Suit yourself."

"Old mate," said Barbossa as he sat down, "When will you stop being such a dandy and come work with us? Imagine the hair-raising larks we could get up to, just like in the old days."

"I'm sorry." said Sparrow, "But the third camp suits me just fine.

"So, you've finally caught MacGuffin, eh?"

"That we did."

"Well, tell me nothing of it. I'm just glad you're alright."

"There's something you need to know, Jack."

"TT! I don't want to know anything. I trust you to do whatever you find must be done."

"Whatever you say, Jack."

"Now, what did you want?"

"We need to keep MacGuffin stashed. We promised we'd protect him, and we could hide him in our base but that could be risky."

"And you're wondering if I could take him off your hands? What do you think, that I'm some obscenely rich bastard with the best security money can buy and numerous connections?"

"Yes," said Jenny, "You are an obscenely rich bastard with the best security money can buy and numerous connections."

"Of course I am. I'll do it! He sounds like an intelligent fellow."

"Yes. Eton, Cambridge, Oxford."

"Splendid. I'll have someone to talk to."

Now

The Volcano

Shaun reloaded the pistol in his hand while Mona yanked the target sheet out of the clip that held it at the end of the shooting range; she inspected the points of impact, measuring their proximity from the kill areas.

"Three headshots," said Mona, "And Twelve right in the chest, including a couple of nice double-taps. You're good."

"Thanks," said Shaun, "Can we load another target?"

"No," said Mona, "Why don't you go spar with Priest. How is the ass kicking going?"

"I'm still on the receiving end, I wonder if I'm ever going to get to beat Priest."

"Well, he's a superhuman creature of the night, I don't think you ever will. Still, the best way to learn and learn fast is to have a powerful opponent. Tomorrow we'll get started on shotguns."

"Shotguns?" said Shaun with a measure of excitement.

"Yeah, shotguns."

One Week Later

"Alsalam Alaykum." Sayid heard someone say behind his hack as he sat in one of the rooms, fixing an apparatus. He got up from where he sat and turned to see Al-Sheikh extending his hand. Sayid shook it as he replied,

"And may peace be with you."

"My name is Naif Al-Sheikh, I have been assigned to run this movement's intelligence division, or what's left of it anyway."

"I'm Sayid Jarrah. How can I help you?"

"As part of the new opposition, I am initiating a new team of former operatives. With your identities compromised, you will not longer be working in your former capacities."

"What kind of team?"

"A black-ops team, for the purpose of sabotage, retrieval and troubleshooting. It has occurred to me that a man with your talents would be most suitable."

"Um.. What about the others, Aisha and Robert?"

"They will not be a part of it. I have other jobs in mind for them."

"Well who else is in this team?"

"If you want to know that, you'll learn about it when you meet them. That is if you accept. Do you?"

"That depends, why do you want me?"

"Technical support, mostly, as well as combat on occasion, though we will mainly rely on other people for that." said Al-Sheikh as he took a drag of his cigarette, "But I won't bullshit you, I also want you in case there are information we need to get out of people who are reluctant to speak. much like you did with Forrest Gump."

"I had no choice in that matter."

"There hardly ever is."

"I've been trying to put that part of my life behind me," said Sayid, "I do not desire to torture another soul in my life."

"I doubt you desire to be in a bunker inside a volcano, but here you are. Soldiers like us play the hands that we are dealt, we face difficult moral choices and choose the one that would save the most lives."

Sayid hung his head for a few moments.

"I'm in." said Sayid.

"I'm glad to hear that, brother." said Al-Sheikh as he started walking away, "Keep this between us. You will meet you teammates sometime in the future, it could be a few weeks till then."

"I'll be waiting."

Two Weeks Later

"Ehem."

Priest opened his eyes as he lay on the cold, concrete floor in his room and looked up, seeing Al-Sheikh standing before him with a lit cigarette in his hand. He removed the headphones from around his head.

"Good evening, Mister Priest," said Al-Sheikh, "My name is Naif Al-"

"I know who you are," said Priest as he reached for a bottle of Vodka on the floor three feet away from him and unscrewed the cap, "You're Sands' replacement."

"Correct. I was wondering if we could have a word a word or two."

"I don't think so, not if this is about me doing any more assignments for the opposition. I quit. I don't even want the money Nemo owes me. I just want out."

"Then why are you still here?"

"We are inside a volcano in god knows where." said Priest, "I'm not allowed to go aboard the Yellow Canoe, and every time the Black Pearl goes anywhere, someone forgets to tell me."

"Possible. It is possible that a former spy like yourself, one with enhanced senses would encounter difficulty in knowing when a submarine is preparing to make sail, although such knowledge is not at all classified... Or maybe you just don't want to leave."

"Nah, I'm stupid." said Priest as he took a swig of vodka. Al-Sheikh curled his nose in disgust at the smell.

"What? Do you want a sip?" asked Priest with a smirk as he sat up and extended the hand with the bottle, offering the drink, knowing he was irritating the seasoned spymaster.

"Don't flatter yourself, Priest." said Al-Sheikh as he looked away, "I've been in Taliban caves and US Army barracks with specimens much more repulsive than yourself."

"No? Too bad, you don't know what you're missing. There's the door incidentally."

"I see it, but won't use it till I had my say."

"Then by all means, effendi," said Priest, "Have your say."

"As part of the reconstructing of the opposition's intelligence network, I'm putting together an Elite Unit of former operatives whose identities have been discovered like you."

"What kind of unit?"

"Black ops." said Al-Sheikh as he turned back to face Priest, "The kind of work you used to excel at."

"Hmmmm."

Priest took a massive swig.

"Why me?"

"As I said, you used to be very good at this kind of thing."

"Used to, being the operative phrase."

"I'm not sure about that, I'm impressed with how you handled tracking down MacGuffin. I need someone with experience, someone who has been around as they say. The unit's operations could take them to several non-Anglophone countries. I need someone familiar with some of those countries and capable of speaking the language."

"Well..." said Priest with a cocky smirk, "French, German, Korean, Mandarin, Spanish, Russian, Arabic, not to mention English, Latin and Gaelic. There's also some Esperanto. But I don't like to boast."

"So, are you interested?"

"Why should I be?"

"You fought in World War II, didn't you? What was that for?"

"I was being blackmailed."

"Priest..."

"ugh... All right, I wanted to do my part in crushing fascism."

"And what could be more fascist than using the world's nations as puppets, and setting them against each other for some insane notion that something good will come of it."

"I'm not that kind of person anymore," Priest barked in Arabic, "You know that, don't you? If you were any decent kind of spy, you would know what I did."

"Yes, you are referring to your stint in Vietnam." said Al-Sheikh a she took a drag of smoke, "It is an affair wrapped in layers. I mean officially, Lieutenant Judas Priest deserted the army. However, probing deeper, one will find out that you killed three commanding officers, and chopped off an Intelligence officer's leg."

"There you go."

"But that's not the core, it is simply another layer. I know what really happened, My Lai, wasn't it?"

Priest looked down.

"After you deserted, you leaked the news of the massacre to the American press. It seems you still were battling fascism then, even at the cost of losing what was more dear to you."

"Oh, really?" asked Priest, "And what is most dear to me?"

"The same thing that drove you to find MacGuffin, the same reason why you're about to agree to join the unit; purpose."

Pries sharply stared at Al-Sheikh for over a minute, Al-Sheikh simply smoked and remained unfazed even as Priest's eyes mutated.

"You're good." said Priest, "That shit about purpose is kinda bull, but I like you... I think you and I are going to get along. So, do I get to be their fearless leader?"

"Sorry, no. You may be an expert at this, but you have the finesse of a rusty spoon."

"Yep, you're my kind of guy."

"Keep this between us, say nothing of it." said Al-Sheikh as he walked toward the door.

"Who else is in?"

"All in good time, Priest, you'll meet then soon enough."

1968

Vietnam

"Hello?" said Priest as he held the receiver to his ear, standing in an empty tent with two men sanding guard outside.

"Jude?"

"Who is this?"

"Its Nash."

"Nash?! Well well, how the hell are you, old bean? I'm sorry I missed your retirement party last year, I was…well.."

"Jude, I know that your son had a stroke. I'm sorry for your loss, Frank was a good kid. I wanted to come and see you but I was too bus sorting that business in Scotland."

"Yeah, I heard about that. Rouge Agent within the BPRD tried to start an apocalypse, right?"

"Yeah. Look, are you all alone?"

"Yeah, I'm alone. What's wrong, George? You sound worried."

"Look, I just learned about this. Accidentally, might I add. The New Director of the Initiative, you know him?"

"Yeah, Lindsay Crouse. Talked to me before I got sent here, I worked with him in Jamaica once, didn't like the bastard. What about him?"

"Jude, you know that he never approved of you. He tried to get you fired."

"Yeah, I know, you always covered my ass, though."

"Yes, I always did. But now I'm retired, I can't do it anymore... There's no stopping him."

"What's wrong, George?"

"He's finally managed to get the top bras to terminate you... He's convinced them you're unstable and prone to betraying us."

"How did he do that?"

"He's dug up all the old information I tried to suppress, information pertaining to your past in Scotland... When I recruited to you I kind of softened your image in order to get them to approve of you."

"And now they know the whole truth, huh?"

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be. Nash, you were one hck of a guy and you never done wrong by me, you believed in me and that's all that counts."

"Jude, you're going to get killed, and soon."

"Are you going to be okay, George? Is any of this going to come bite you in the ass?"

"What the hell's wrong with you?! Don't worry about me, I'll be fine! Worry about the silver dagger about to get shoved into your heart, they've already sent a CIA buttonman to take you out!"

"Hmmm. Fella called Felix Leiter, right?"

"Yeah, do you know him?"

"Not yet, I think I'll meet him for a drink tonight... After I finish up some business."

"Are you out of your damn mind?"

"Goodbye, old timer. Take care of yourself. And give my regards to Laura."

"Prie-"

Priest hung up and snickered as he reached into his pocket and took out a cigar, lit it with a wooden match and marched out the tent, ignoring the two privates as they saluted him and heading back to Dan Taylor's tent.

"Hey, is everything all right?" asked Taylor.

"Everything is fine." said Priest as he sat down and picked up his cards.

"You sound different; it must have been one hell of a phone call."

"Oh, it was." said Priest as he took a puff of cigar smoke and then tossed his cards on the table, "I have just heard the truth, and the truth has set me free."

Next Chapter: A copious amount of awesome. Next chapter is E-VENT-FULL. Shaun gets uppity, Priest gets nasty, Al-Sheikh rounds his elite unit up. We also take strolls down memory lane, taking a look at how Mona fell into her life of crime, and we see why its not a good thing to be around when Priest quits a job.