Huh, Clay thought, as the armored extended Jeep got underway, not at all what he expected: No one spoke. They sat in their seats, stared straight ahead, didn't move, did nothing.

During transport with Bravo and Alpha, the team Bravo most often ran with, everyone talked, joked, hell, even sang. Games were played to pass the time, stories were told, missions remembered, old times recalled, the rookie – him – teased, but now…..yeah….not a peep.

"Is this, uh, how you guys…um, travel?" Clay asked the man closest to him. He felt the need to whisper, like he was speaking behind the teachers back. "Always like this?"

Chase Barret, he thought the man's name was. He'd been introduced to them all, but by name only. He didn't know who did what on the team or their specialties. That information hadn't been offered and when Clay had asked, he'd been shut down by Beau. All he knew is what Jason had told him; Beau was Senior Chief, not Master and 2nd in command was Mick.

"How?" Chase repeated. "By armored jeep? We take whatever the base has to transport us. If we run with Delta or with more men, we'll take a bus."

"Yeah, no, I meant…..eh, never mind." He saw the startled looks around him and stared out the window. God, this was awful. All the silence made it easy to wonder and worry about what was ahead, what might happen. Made it easy to remember a mission gone bad and question what could have been done differently to change the outcome. He didn't like traveling in silence at all.

Bravo one, Charlie, zero.

The ride was over an hour, so Clay pulled out his earbuds, thumbed his archaic MP3 player to shuffle and laid his head back. He soon became aware he was under an intense stare and opened his eyes to find Beau glaring daggers at him. So, music was a no-no too. Well, tough. Unless Beau outright ordered him to remove the earbuds and put them away, he wasn't going to.

Had anyone bothered to talk to help the ride go by, Clay never would have played music to begin with.

The entire ride passed in silence. They reached their destination, left the jeep, fell into line behind Beau and started hiking. Clay stared after them. No discussion which way to take, how to go, who should go where. No talk about whether to go with guns armed and ready. No talk about who leads, who brings up the rear, who scouts ahead….nothing.

Bravo two, Charlie, zero.

He hadn't been told how far they were hiking, when they'd be stopping for the night, whether or not they'd reach their destination today or tonight or tomorrow…..he knew nothing and he didn't like it one bit.

Bravo three, Charlie, zero.

"What are we doing?" Clay asked Chase, catching up to keep in step side-by-side with the man.

"Hiking up to the coordinates that…"

"No, I get that. I mean, who's scouting?"

"Who's doing what?"

"Scouting ahead." Clay repeated. "You know, jog ahead? Report back?"

Chase just shook his head.

"How far are we hiking?"

"Until we reach the perimeter of our destination."

"But….when do you scout for a location to camp? Set it up? Secure it?"

Chase shook his head. "That's on our Chief."

"But….." Clay frowned. "How do you know this is the best way to go? When do you all study the map?"

"What map?"

"The map." Clay made folding and unfolding motions with both hands. "To know the area."

"We don't use paper maps." Chase gave him an odd look. "We have GPS and coordinates."

"Well, yeah, but what happens if satellite goes out?"

"We wait."

"Out here in the open, blind? Coordinates don't tell you what is around you."

"We have comms."

Clay was beginning to understand what part of Jason's problem with Beau was. Who the hell led and ran ops like this?

Fuck that shit; Bravo four, five and six, Charlie, zero.

"So, you just keep your mouth shut and follow without knowing what's going on?" Clay asked incredulously. "Where you're going? Who's doing what?"

"We're told what we need to know when we need to know it."

"But….there are six of you! You just march single file? You don't spread out, scout, decide when to camp, settle on where? Secure it? Send your sniper high?"

Chase came to a stop and looked at him. "No," and he moved off.

"Well, fuck that shit." Clay muttered. He shook his head in disbelief and fell in line.

Beau was unaware of Clay's unease over how he led his men and Chase didn't speak up and say anything. They continued to march up the trail, single-file, no one speaking until Clay finally had had enough.

"Yo." Clay moved past the men until he reached Beau's side. "We've been hiking over four hours. Time for a break."

Beau pulled up. His men came to a stop behind him, unsure and uncertain what was going on or what to do.

"Come again Spenser?"

"I didn't stutter." Clay retorted. "Do all men your age have a hearing problem?"

"Oh, I have a problem, but it has nothing to do with my hearing." Beau countered. "Let's start with your attitude. Did you just order a break?" Really? Shit from this little punk-ass rookie? Hayes put up with this? Oh hell no, Beau didn't think so.

"I said it was time for one. Four hours mandates break for water and food."

"Since when does Jason Hayes go by the book?" Beau snickered. "Never heard anyone say that."

"You're hearing it now. When we're hiking uphill carrying over 50 pounds on our backs, yeah, he does."

Bravo….ah, hell, I lost count, but damn…Charlie, sucks.

Beau whistled. The kid had balls. He sure as hell wasn't backing down. No man on his team would speak to him like this.

"Too much for you, mamma's boy?" Beau cooed. "Guys, do you hear Bravo's rookie? Says we need a rest."

"Wanna race Beau?" Clay challenged. "See who makes it the farthest? I bet I outlast you. I don't get distracted like Sonny does." Low blow, basically calling Charlie out on a fair way of cheating.

"You call me Chief." Beau said stiffly. Oh this cocky little piss-ant was begging for an ass-kicking. He should order the mouthy little prick to run the rest of the way.

"You're not my Chief."

"I'm not your boss." Beau corrected. "I am your chief on this mission."

Clay shrugged. "You are leading this mission, so that makes you my leader." He pulled a bottle of water out of a pocket on his thigh, a power bar out of another. "We don't know what we're walking into. We don't know how much further we have to go because you haven't told us anything. I'm not walking blindly into any possible scenario, thirsty, tired and disoriented because we made haste to get there."

Mick shifted his weight uneasily. The other men looked away.

Clay sat down on a fallen tree. "Ten minutes. Go on, I'll catch up."

Beau fumed, but rules stated no man was left behind on a hike. Of all things Beau didn't want to do in his life time, standing before Jason Hayes and admitting he hadn't returned with Bravo's rookie was top of that list.

"Seven minutes." Beau allowed.

Mick, second in command, followed Beau when he moved off. "Kid's young Boss." Mick said easily. "Remember when Hayes didn't outright admit he was taking the kid and we looked into the possibility of being able to get him? How everyone talked about him when he was training on Green Team? He's cocky as shit."

"Hayes wouldn't put up with that." Beau countered. "No way."

"I don't know Hayes." Mick admitted. "But the kid's what, 24? If that? He's got a lot to learn, you've never had a rookie and no one that young ever joined us."

"Doesn't matter. He spoke out of turn."

"Yeah, he did, and if were yours, he'd be running hills and scrubbing toilets. Hell, he'd be dropping and giving you 20 every time he opened his mouth." Mick paused. "But he isn't yours and he isn't officially assigned to Charlie. Like it or not, he is still under Hayes's command."

"Doesn't give him the right to act and talk like a punk-ass."

Mick nodded. "True." He greedily drank some water. He'd been about to bring up to Beau that they needed to stop for a rest, when Clay beat him to it. Kid really did have balls. "Can't push the guys like this." And there was no reason to.

"Lost track of time."

"What's on your mind?"

"Hayes." Beau capped his bottle of water and returned it to a pocket. "And why he let that kid come."

"Kid hasn't run with any other team, has he?"

Beau thought about it. "Not that I know of, no." he shrugged. "Alpha."

"Sure as hell ain't ever gonna be Delta." Mick snorted. "You think you don't get along with Hayes? Can't be Alpha, Hayes runs that team when they're on missions together."

"Sonofabitch." Beau breathed. "He's using me as a guinea pig, letting that kid test the waters."

Mick slapped his shoulder. "Welcome to being schooled by Hayes."

Beau was furious. Damn Hayes! Here, he'd thought he was sticking it to Hayes by taking Bravo's rookie out on a mission, when in reality, now that he thought about it…it was a bet made in a bar over alcohol. Hayes was under no obligation to honor it. And if Hayes hadn't wanted to let the kid go, Blackburn would have put a stop to it.

Beau sighed. Well, okay then.

()

Clay and the rest of the men finally learned more of 'the plan' when Beau called for a halt and gave the order to set up camp.

"Here?" Clay blurted out. Brock and Cerberus would have already scouted the best location to camp. Anywhere, just wouldn't have been acceptable. "Just like that? You just decide to stop walking and say, 'eh, here's good'?"

"Something to say Spenser?" Beau sighed, the kid was wearing him out. He'd yet to stop talking, or complaining, or questioning every, little thing.

"What is the advantage of picking here? Is there a weakness? How far away is fresh water? Do we have an overhang? Where is the nearest rock cropping for cover? Can we cook? Is there ample, dry fire wood? Who takes first watch? Did we clear the grounds of ant hills, snakes, poison ivy?" he smacked his forehead with a groan…..all the words of advice Bravo had given him while he packed. God Damn Them!

"Do you guys camp a lot?" Chase asked.

Clay stared at him, mouth open to answer when Brock's gentle reminder to keep their shit to himself jangled in his ear. Yeah, they probably camped more than most teams….not because they had to, but because they wanted to…..more than once, either at home on a clear night, with and without wives and girlfriends, or on a mission when it was a recon job, they lugged sleeping bags along, selected a site….lit a fire…just enjoyed an easy night.

"Don't we all?" he finally said. "Isn't your sniper going high? Scout with a scope? Where's this camp we're heading to? Are we close enough they'll smell smoke?"

"You wanna go high? Pick a tree." Beau waved his arm. "Where would you like to perch, oh-great-Spenser?"

"I wouldn't set up camp here." Clay missed the sarcasm, so annoyed was he over Beau's choice of campsite.

"Tell you what." Beau had had enough. "Let me remind you, this is not Bravo, I am not Hayes and you don't get to question my choices or doubt my ability to lead. In other words, you don't get a say in this Spenser."

"I don't like this site." Clay insisted. "We need a map."

"It's not your decision."

"Map?" Mick echoed. "What map?"

Clay ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "A fucking map! Made out of paper! Davis always…." He caught himself, damn, keep your mouth shut, you dumbass. "Don't you ask your men? Get their opinions? See what they think? You know, someone might have a better idea or suggestion than what you thought of."

"Whoa! Okay there, you." Mick stepped between Clay and Beau before anything further could be said. "Come on, let's go scout out that higher location you're so eager to find. Let the guys set up camp."

"Not a good idea to do it here." Clay muttered but followed Mick. "Too many unknowns. Can't believe you don't have a map."

"Enough with the map." Mick shook his head. "So, how do you like being a Tier One operator?" he asked, letting Clay take lead, curious to see where the younger man would chose to stake out his position to scout the area.

"Different than I expected." Clay steadily climbed a steep embankment, using jutting rocks, tufts of weeds and grass as hand-holds. "Faster. More thought and planning and decision making. A lot of sitting around waiting to be green-lit."

Now, that there just didn't make no sense. They didn't even go on missions until the op was green-lit.

Mick let it go, he didn't have the breath to keep talking. He tried not to pant, but damn, climbing this way at this pace was physically exhausting. Rumors that Hayes's men were in tip-top shape and liked to run were not exaggerated. Kid had yet to lose his breath and he climbed with his backpack on his back. Mick had left his at the campsite.

"Being away from home is harder than I thought." Clay continued, pulling himself up to a rock overhang with just shoulder strength until he could brace his weight on his knee. He didn't attempt to swing his feet up to help boost himself up and over like Mick did. He gained firm ground and extended a hand to help Mick swing up next to him. "Not just family, but the ease and convenience of everything. Grass, maple trees, little things, you know?" he pulled binoculars from a pocket and went flat on his stomach. "Indoor plumbing."

"Tell me why you don't like where Beau decided to sleep tonight." Mick moved a bit slower, but soon joined Clay on his belly. No way was he going to pant like an old man.

"Already did." Clay was zooming in on the men below. "Don't know what's on the other side of that copse of trees. We go tromping off for privacy, could fall into a ravine…"

"Or off a cliff." Mick muttered and picked a walkie-talkie off his vest strap. "Charlie One, over."

"What the hell is that?" Clay laughed. "Their range is what, like a hundred yards or something? Not a toy, is it?" It sure as hell didn't look military grade to him. Lisa would be insulted they requested walkie-talkies and Ray would pout if he was expected to clean and maintain them.

"You got something better?" Mick teased.

"Well, hell yeah." he almost blurted out he had a sat phone but caught himself. "We just use our comms." He finished lamely, earning a look from Mick that said the older man didn't believe him.

"Go ahead Charlie two." The walkie finally squawked, the feedback cackling with static.

"Do not go more than 10 steps north." Mick said. "You're on the edge of a cliff Beau."

"Heyheyhey…..call him back!" Clay yelled. "CALL HIM BACK!" he was on his feet, waving his arms over his head. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted. "CHASE! GET BACK!"

"Call who…..?" Mick put the walkie down and focused his binoculars where Clay had had his trained. "Oh shit! Beau! It's Chase! Call him back!" he yelled into his walkie, pushing up to his knees. "Beau! Do you read? Beau? Come in!"

Mick heard the yelp as Chase stepped off solid ground, didn't have to see to know what was happening.

"Man over cliff!" he yelled into the walkie before clipping it to his strap. Fastest way down was the same way they'd come up. He turned to give Clay the option to go first only to realize Clay was gone. Mick looked down, saw a cloud of dirt and dust as Clay went down the hill on his heels and ass. The weight of his backpack helped to propel him forward at a fast clip…..so fast Mick was scared he wouldn't be able to stop on his own and would either slam into a tree or keep going right on over the cliff.

"Sonofabitch!" he followed Clay down but at a much safer and slower speed.

Beau heard Chase yell out, but was frowning into his walkie, not sure he'd heard Mick correctly. Man over cliff? What the hell did that even mean? What man? What cliff? Where was a cliff? Chase who? Who needed to be chased over a cliff?

"Jesus Christ." Karl muttered, pointing at Clay's rapid descent down the hill. "Kid have a death wish?"

"What the hell is he doing?" Greg shielded his eyes, looked up to see Mick following. "He fall? Mick ain't never gonna catch him."

"It's like he's surfing on dirt without a surfboard." Bobby said. "Skiing maybe, he's a dumbass to be doing something as stupid as that."

"He's in control." Beau joined his men and slowly, it all dawned on him. "Where's Chase?" he demanded suddenly, spinning in a circle. "BARRET!"

"Stepped out." Karl replied, still watching Clay. "He ain't even trying to slow down."

Beau wasn't paying Clay any attention. "We haven't secured the area." He huffed. Clay free-falling down the hill? Mick coming right behind him? Man over cliff? Chase? "Shit!"

He bolted but was forced to go carefully, not knowing what lay beyond the trees or amid the tall grass and choked bramble that surrounded the clearing they'd meant to set up camp in.

Clay reached the bottom of the hill, beating Beau. Releasing the straps on his backpack and dropping it, he came up from his crouch and gained his feet running. He avoided the trees, running alongside them rather than through them. He came to a stop from a dead run on his knees, skidding to the edge of the cliff he'd seen from above.

Unlike Mick, Clay had seen Chase disappear from sight, so he knew where he'd stepped off solid ground.

At a stop, his knees taking all the abuse and the brunt of his weight, he threw himself forward onto his belly and wormed his weight over the edge. He felt hands grab his ankles and after taking a second to calm his sudden panic over being grabbed, realized it was someone on Charlie grabbing hold to keep him from going over.

"Chase?" Clay yelled, going over, pulling the man holding his feet forward until the only part of Clay on firm ground was his knees and feet. "Gimme your hand!"

Beau was yelling for a rope. Karl and Bobby were scrambling to comply with the order and Greg was hanging onto Clay with a strength he didn't know he possessed. He didn't think the kid weighed so much, he looked so scrawny dressed down.

Mick was crawling up next to Clay who had thrown his weight forward and was ordering Chase to grab his hand. Mick had to make a choice, reach with Clay to hold onto Chase, or help Greg hold onto Clay because once Chase let go of his hold on roots and grass to hold onto Clay, Greg wouldn't be able to hold their combined weight.

Clay surprised him again.

After convincing Chase to trust him, to let go and grab Clay's hand, Clay stopped hanging over the edge and went stomach to dirt, pulling Greg with him and swung his other hand down to grab Chase's other wrist and then, began to belly-squirm backwards, shoulders bearing all of Chase's weight until Chase was able to brace his feet firmly against the rocky cliff side.

Greg grunted and held on, holding the combined weight of two full-grown men by one man's legs. Mick threw his weight onto Clay's feet and with Clay doing most of the pulling, he and Greg were able to steady Clay until Chase's head popped over the cliff, where Bobby, Beau and Karl were able to reach out and grab him by the shoulders.

Once Clay was relieved of Chase's weight, Greg and Mick easily pulled and dragged him back until finally, he was firmly on solid ground.

Clay rolled off his shoulders, flopping onto his back, knees coming up as his heels dug into the dirt.

"You okay?" Mick asked anxiously, crawling on his knees until he was next to the kid. "Spenser? Hey, talk to me."

Clay raised a hand, extended a finger from a clenched fist, asking for a moment to catch his breath. 'Cause right now, he was panting, his chest heaving as his shoulders continued to voice their discontent over holding Chase's weight. His knees quivered, splayed apart, he brought his thighs together, but his knees splayed again.

"Spenser!" Beau barked, flicker of fear igniting low in his belly. "Don't you ever do something that stupid again! Do you hear me? What the hell were you thinking?!"

Clay gulped, tried to hold his breath for control of his breathing, failed. He rolled over, went up on his knees and elbows, rocked forward, hung his head, entire body shaking. Mmmmm, he stung and ached and burned…..everywhere.

"First you try and break you neck coming down the hill like that!" Beau shouted. "Then you throw yourself over a cliff?" So much for returning the kid to Bravo without a bruise or scratch on him, he thought uncharitably. "You call for help, you wait for a rope, you tie off to a tree. Greg couldn't hold your weight on his own. Not when you took on Chase's weight. He'd have lost his hold on you, then what?!"

"Spenser? You gotta talk to me." Mick was saying.

Still fighting through a haze of pain, aching muscles, burning tendons, Clay expected a hand on his shoulder, a pat on the back, Trent in the same position he was so he could see into Clay's face. He never really realized how calming and soothing a simple touch was.

But the reassuring pat never came.

Clay pushed up, rocked back, sat with his ass on his ankles, crawled away, went down on his elbows. The muscles across his back burned but were easing, and finally, his breath allowed him to catch up and he was able to control the panting. Winded, he went down on his right shoulder, laid on his side for a moment, then rolled to his back, dragging his hips across the dirt until his ass was flat on the ground, knees up, feet flat.

Okay, I'm thinking, I was fixing your fuck-up and saving your man. First, it was a controlled slide down the hill, we practice. Two, I belly-crawled to the edge of the cliff, I didn't throw myself off or over it. Three, not my job to get a rope, it's my job to hold the situation - which I did. Four, Sonny would never have lost his hold on me, he'd have gone over the cliff with me before he'd ever let me go.

"Wow kid, Jesus." Mick stood over him. "Some stunt there."

No one knelt next to him, no one asked how he was doing, how he felt, if there was something they could do for him. No one teased him, no one offered him a hand up, no one asked what was wrong, what would help, what they could get him. No one told him to breathe through it, fight if off, hang in there.

Finally, the trees overhead stopped spinning and he was able to breathe normally, so he felt it safe to sit up. His head felt clouded, so he just sat, elbows on raised knees, head supported in his hands. A bit stunned, he still expected someone to come over, hand him a bottle of water. Waited for Trent's hand on the back of his neck, the comforting squeeze that always raised goosebumps down his spine.

"You good?" Mick said finally. "We should help the others set up camp."

Clay looked up, forehead resting in his palm, fingers splayed in his hair. "He's staying here." He stated flatly. "No one finished scouting, no idea what's around us." Head rush from hanging pretty much upside down subsiding, the hot flush ebbing away, he was feeling less lightheaded.

"Hill to our backs, water that way." Mick said.

"No shelter against rain, cliff over there." Clay pushed to his feet, hid a wince. "Can we light a fire? Are we approaching the camp to take a look? Where is it from here? Who do you keep high? Who's taking watch? How can you stand not knowing anything?"

Mick gave him a sad look. "That's on Beau and me. You follow orders."

"That's bullshit." He hunched one shoulder, then the other, rotated them backwards, then forward…..sore, but no bursts of pain. So, nothing dislocated, merely strained.

Mick shook his head. "Beau's been really patient with you today," he paused. "You hurt anywhere?"

Clay just looked at Mick, wishing that it was Trent standing there asking that question; the team with him. Trent would offer him an ice pack - hold it for him for a bit, Brock would bring him a beer, Cerberus would lay his head in his lap, Sonny would throw something at him, make sure his reflexes reacted and he could catch, Ray would shake a bottle of aspirin then give him as many as he wanted and Jason would sit nearby and stare at him, shaking his head, giving him all the time he needed to recover.

Charlie? Well, they were rolling out sleeping bags.