A/N: Ugh, I know! It's been forever. I had this huge chapter in the works for over a month, but it just will not cooperate, so I had to scrap it. This is a short little thing that will move things along and substitute for the added layer of WEIRD that just refused to be written properly. You have no idea how frustrated I am at the whole thing ;)

Anywho, thank you thank you thank you for being patient and for sticking with me. I apologize for not being able to respond to everyone's reviews, but I do appreciate each and every one of them.

As always, enjoy!

Gibbs lifted his fist, effectively drawing his patrol to a halt.

Everyone was on edge—being the advance scout for the rest of the ragtag war party meant they were isolated in unfamiliar territory. This part of the mountains had been too far from their Sanctuary to give much time to explore it, and they were all acutely aware of what could be lurking behind every boulder, every shadowed tree.

But their resolve never wavered, nor did that of the Residents coming behind. That the danger was braved for the sake of one of their own only bolstered their courage.

Fornell carefully moved to Gibbs' position, keeping low to avoid whatever the Marine had sensed. "What is it?" came the hushed query. The urgency in his voice was tangible—they should keep moving.

"I think I know where we are."

Fornell snorted. "We're ass-deep in the Appalachians, on our way to fight a City full of cutthroats. Coulda told you that hours ago."

Gibbs didn't answer.

"You didn't get us lost, did you?"

This time, Fornell got a headshake no. "That busted tree trunk."

Gibbs pointed. Fornell saw nothing more than a mangled dead thing that looked like it hadn't been touched in years. Ivy covered more than half of it, and poison sumac covered the rest of it.

"I've been here before," Gibbs stated, settling back on his heels.

"So what?" Fornell countered. "We're not exactly here for the scenic route down memory lane, you know."

"There's a weapons cache here."

Fornell blinked. "What?"

"I trained here almost a dozen years ago. This whole place used to be joint property for the National Guard and Corps. There's a small compound three miles northwest of the tree. Compound had an armory."

"And you think no one will have cleaned it out by now? You know the Guard mobilized during the Incident. They would've taken the weapons with them."

But Gibbs shook his head again. "This was 4th Battalion. Reservist. Most Reserve units didn't have time to mobilize. And this wasn't a primary site. Odds are, they forgot about it when the Incident hit."

Fornell wasn't one to buy into bunk theories. And this definitely qualified as a stretch, if not outright ridiculous. But there was something in Gibbs voice, in his eyes, that made Tobias pause. Three miles wouldn't put them too far off route, and, really, it wouldn't hurt to at least check it out.

"If the outpost is still standing, and the guns are still there," he posed guardedly, meeting Gibbs' steadfast gaze, "you gonna be able to get into the armory?"

Because the military wasn't known for leaving their weapons unsecured. Even Tobias knew that.

But Gibbs' mouth curled into a mirthless smile. "Oh, yeah…"

His tone was low and lingering, and Fornell heard the unspoken 'you bet your ass' his friend let slip into his voice.

In the end, all Fornell could do was nod. Five minutes later, they'd sent one of the Angels back to relay the change in plan to the rest of the war party, and had stepped out in the direction of the outpost. Tobias didn't bother wondering if it was the right thing to do, or if Gibbs would be able to live up to his end of the plan.

Tobias knew better by now. If anyone in the world could do it, it would be Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

"Holy shit."

Yeah. Exactly.

"Who the hell would leave a .50 cal here?"

Fornell didn't really care who did. Though if he knew, he might've thanked them. Because along with a .50 caliber rifle—complete with a turret mount—they now had a plethora of SAWs, M16s, M9s, and a crateful of standard issue combat knives to add to their arsenal of hatchets and pitchforks. There were even a handful of AT4 rocket launchers and grenades.

He shot a look towards Gibbs, who was scanning through the inventory lists to see if there was anything they might've missed. If he didn't know any better, he'd have sworn the bastard looked smug. For a brief moment, it was almost like looking at Special Agent Gibbs again, even with the grizzled jaw and increasingly whitened hairline.

"We're gonna need more people to carry all this back to the rendezvous point," Tobias pointed out.

Gibbs shrugged. "There's a couple of humvees out back," he delivered nonchalantly. "Use those."

Damn. As if the man needed any more reason to smirk.

But then his old friend looked up from his inventories and met his gaze, and for a long moment nothing was said. And in that moment, a weight lifted from them. This changed everything.

This meant that instead of potentially leading over a hundred Residents to their deaths, they could be marching towards a potential victory. It was a subtle difference, but it was a difference that gave them a fighting chance.

Fornell grinned, for the first time in months.

"Let's go to war."