The great thunder of instruments boomed through the ballroom. Lords and ladies from all corners of the earth swayed and twirled together in unison to the waltz. It was glorious to behold.

Rhaella observed from the edge of the dance floor shying away from plane sight. Her father insisted on her socializing tonight with the noble men of other houses.

"You will have to get used to talking to men now that you're of age," her father pulled her close to his side.

"What makes you think I have difficulty talking to men father?" She played it off with a smile, but her father knew her better. The truth was Rhaella wasn't terrified of talking to men, she just was never comfortable around the ones in court. Most of the men in the room couldn't hold any real conversations that didn't include gossip, scandals, or flattery.

"How are you to like any suitors I choose if you don't get to know them?" His face was completely serious, nothing unusual considering smiles were a rare sight coming from him. Although her father was as implacable as a glacier, he was far from heartless. In fact, he might have been more affectionate than most highborn lords were to their children.

Many fathers wouldn't even give their daughters a say in their marriages.

Her father turned and walked toward the end of the room where the king was seated. Even the way he walked commanded respect, shoulder straight and wide. The cream silk hair was hidden under the gray wig of an aristocrat tonight. If the aura of authority did not make his status obvious the various medals that adorned his breast would.

There was no reason for her to feel intimidated in the regal gathering. She had a higher status than most women in the room. She shouldn't feel insecure, she was far from plain looking. But for some reason, she still didn't feel like she belonged and the thought of people staring at her made her heart rush. Even with her attempt to be a wallflower, her

father insisted she dressed to impress so here she stood in a red satin ball gown holding her white-gloved hands in front of her. She could've done with a dress that covered her cleavage a little more but her friends agreed this was the one.

Within the first ten minutes of arrival, she had seen Count Ebert of Prussia heading in her direction. Count Ebert couldn't have been more than a year younger than her own father. "Princess Rhaella Velken!" He bowed and almost stumbled forward.

"I am so pleased to see you here tonight" beamed with his yellow teeth. He was drunk of the champagne already. "Count Ebert," she put her hand out and curtsied. He took it eagerly and kissed it with too much enthusiasm.

"I'm pleased to see you here tonight as well, tell me is your wife here?" She tried to ignore her now wet glove. "I'm afraid she's gone to court in Versailles with Queen Marie Antoinette."

"That is good news for her, although you must miss her terribly," she tilted her head in sympathy. Perhaps he was trying to drown his woes in champagne tonight, she thought. "No not at all!" he rejoiced "I feel free as a bird, so tonight I'm celebrating" he lifted his glass. Rhaella faked a smile and laughed, then turned her attention to the dancers. She immediately regretted accepting her friend's choice in the dress when she saw Count Ebert from the corner of her eye, ogling her chest.

"Count Ebert! I'm glad you could make it tonight" She was jolted out of her thoughts and turned to see Prince Tristan walking towards. "I never decline an invitation from his Majesty King Ferdinand." Count Ebert said back, Rhaella let out a sigh of relief that the old man's attention was turned to the Prince. Maybe she could go find a glass for herself.

"I see you've found the champagne to your liking, better than that awful vodka you Prussians love so much." Joked the young man adorned in a sharp red uniform, causing Ebert to roar with laughter.

Prince Tristane was heir to the throne of Hungary. It was his father's idea to hold a ball in hope's Tristane would turn his attention from hunting and leisure time with other men in court to his duty. King Ferdinand was unrelenting when it came to finding a wife for his son and heirs to secure the throne. However, the Prince was a natural charmer and would excel at being a ruler one day.

Tristane laughed with him, but his attention soon turned to Rhaella. She could feel her heart jump as he was about to speak. "I apologize, Count Ebert, I hope you don't mind If I steal Princess Rhaella for a dance."

"Not at all your highness just make sure you don't tire her out before I get a turn" he laughed again and took another sip. Rhaella felt Tristane's hand on her back pushing her towards the dance floor and away from the drunk Aristocrat.

"Sorry I couldn't get to you sooner my lady," he murmured to her once they were far enough from Ebert. "Don't apologize, your highness, he's just had too much to drink," she placed her hands on Tristane's tall shoulders as the music began. Tristane smirked, "His wife leaving for court might have been the best thing that's ever happened to him."

"And how are you enjoying yourself tonight?" She changed the subject.

He looked around the room to see how many people were watching them. Rhealla looked too, all of them. She looked back at Tristane "Oh, much better now. And you my lady?" He asked. "The same" she agreed. She didn't want to stare too long at his face, but she couldn't help but notice how handsomely carved he was. His jaw and nose were sharp, and his eyes seemed to always be glinting with mischief. Rhaella avoided the envious glares of other women and kept her eyes on Tristane. Not only did he have the title but the charming looks.

"If you'd like my advice, I'd say keep dancing with me for the night. That way you won't have those old slugs hovering around you," the proposition surprised Rhaella, she had never expected Prince Tristane to make such an offer. "But your highness, you have so many other guests to give attention too, I would not dare keep you from your duties." If the Prince had decided to only spend time with one lady tonight, it would mean he had no interest in other guests.

"You're my guest too," he smiled unconcerned.

That smile hadn't changed in years. She remembered being a young girl when the king had paid a visit to her home. With no son's of his own, her father brought Rhaella on a hunt with their guests. Tristane had the same smile when he would veer off the path, riding into the thick woods and making dangerous jumps. Rhaella would follow to make sure nothing would happen to him, but also to say 'I told you so' if he did fall from his horse.

"It seems you're father is very persistent in finding you a match" as she looked around the now packed ballroom, with guests still arriving. A look of sheer panic crossed his face and she immediately wished she took the words back. 'How could you be so intrusive Rhaella?' she scolded herself. 'He isn't the same boy you grew up playing with in the corridors, he's a grown man now'. No wonder her father wanted her to practice talking to men.

"Most women here aren't actually paramours, my father has already chosen a suitable match, but it is only fair to the other ladies that I make them believe they have a chance" he laughed off her bold question. She put on a playfully shocked face "You mean all these poor women don't know they already lost before the pursuit began" she quipped.

Something about Tristane made him easy to talk to, perhaps it was his laughter or the way he would talk to strangers as if they had been longtime friends.

"At least I let them keep their hopes up for now," his gaze leaned in "Think of all hopeless old saps waiting for an opportunity for your attention." He smirked. His eyes sparkled emerald green and devious.

"What men?" She scoffed trying not to seem too interested but she could feel her neck and face turning as red as her dress.

He looked at her confused and surprised "Loads of them! Are you joking? They're all too scared you'd reject them."

"Why would they think that?" She furrowed her brows. Tristane pressed is lips together, trying to think of what to say while focusing on the dance. "I meant no offense my lady...it's just that you don't look interested in anyone here. Either that or these parties bore you, hence why I came over to entertain you."

She bit her lip and looked down ashamed. "I wasn't trying to be unapproachable." She murmured more to herself. That couldn't have been it, she was confident that she was a very approachable person.

"You don't have to try" he retorted. was that supposed to be comforting? She stared at him. "I didn't mean it like that, I meant that perhaps your beauty intimidates other men, they feel like they don't stand a chance talking to such a fair lady".

She rolled her eyes at him "You have a silver tongue Prince Tristane."

He chuckled and stuck out his tongue as the dance came to an end.

The wheels of the Boeing c-17A hit the runway of the military base. Striker got out of his seat to check on the precious cargo strapped in down in the back.

"How is she doing?" he asked but as soon as he saw the body he could see for himself the drastic change the blood was doing for her. What was once a skin sack full of bones was now a gurgling breathing body. "Well sir it's a good thing we landed just in time, we're on our last bag." Dr. Arnsen sighed pinching at the near empty blood bag

"Yes, yes doctor but her development what about that?" he prodded.

"She regrew most of her muscles, her heart rate is still slow but she is breathing." He walked Striker towards her head "As you can see her eyes have opened but she can't see yet-" " Can she walk?" Striker interrupted.

"Well...she-sh uh" Dr. Arnsen stumbled on his words when he couldn't provide a definite answer.

"Out with it man!"

"W-well we can try to see if her muscles are developed enough to support her weight and move." Dr. Arnsen fumbled and pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

"That's more like It," Striker smiled. He now leaned in to get a closer look at her head which was now jolting side to side, jaws gnawing at the air. She looked like a zombie desperately in search of flesh to bite onto. 'A little more time my dear,' he cooed internally 'then I'll have you all eyes and ears to what I have to say' Striker smiled so pleased with himself. He stood up and straight going to the doors to the terminal gate but he stopped in his tracks and turned towards the doctor.

"If you're going to make her walk the rest of the way, make sure you head with absolute caution"

Dr. Arnsen went white.

"Can't have her taking a bite out of anyone."

The Red Buffalo Saloon was only a half a mile from base, and the teams preferred watering hole. The room was lit mostly by the neon lights of a few signs and the jukebox. A few pool tables were being occupied and the men settled themselves to their usual spot playing cards. Although this time Logan and Victor had been on a mission somewhere in the middle of "God-Damn-No-Where-Mexico".

"HMMMM" Wade hummed looking through the cards in his hand.

He pinched one of the cards ready to decide. "No.."

"Will you hurry up?!" Chris Bradley barked.

"Woah, Woah, Woah someone's in a hurry to lose..." Wade waved a finger at the man next to him. John Wraith rubbed his hand over his tired face. "This is why Logan never invites you to poker night" he murmured.

"Oh...we're playing poker?" Wade broke his focus from his hand

Fred Dukes fell back in his chair throwing his gargantuan arms in the air and shook his head "What...What did you think we were playing?"

Wade looked around the table, there was a long silence "goldfish" he whispered. A universal sigh came from everyone at the table. "Wade," John started "you've been begging Logan and Victor to let you in on poker night for the past month, and you don't even know how to play?"

Wade took a swing of his beer, "Well I was hoping you people would be friendly enough to teach me but boy was I wrong!" He said with an exaggerated offense. "Besides, you never know! Maybe one mission will have all our lives at stake over a poker game and you'll all be depending on me to win!"

"That'll be the day", snorted Chris.

A static sound from the walkie on the table interrupted the feud. "Wraith do you copy?"

John reached over the table and picked up the walkie "Yeah boss, over"

"I need everybody back at base immediately. Over." John closed his eyes, disappointed their night was cut short.

"On our way. Over." Everyone stood up from their chairs and left a few bills on the table for the waitress before heading out the door. "What could he possibly want now?" Chris said getting into the SUV.

Nobody knew, but it couldn't be good.

The men waited on the second floor's balcony near the doors where Striker told them to wait for him and his "Surprise."

When it came to Striker, a surprise was rarely anything actually exciting or fun. Maybe a few new weapons which were ok, but mostly Striker just "Surprised" them with boring information or a risky new mission.

Wade and Chris leaned over the railing watching the front doors on the first floor waiting for them to open. "What do you think it could be?" Fred spoke through a mouthful of a protein bar.

"Well, it's midnight so whatever it is I guess it couldn't wait till the morning" sighed John leaning with them to get a better look.

They heard footsteps coming in from behind them, Striker was strutting towards them completely blissful that he had finally found a female mutant to join the team, not any mutant but a feral, extremely rare to find. "Evening boys, thank you for meeting on such short notice I hope you didn't have plans." Wade was about to say something but Striker cut him off "I wanted you all to be here to meet the new addition to your team."

Everyone looked at each other with a new hopeful interest. All of them excited to meet the new mutant and see what powers they had.

Striker smiled at their reaction and brought the walkie to his mouth "Bring her in,"

Did he just say her? No one had time to notice when the front doors banged open and in came a team of soldiers surrounded by the now walking, more like stumbling, mutant. On either side of the neck was a poll attached to the collar making sure she stayed upright and kept her head and teeth at a safe distance. They walked her through the next set of doors down to the basement.

"It's happening! Zombie Apocalypse!" Wade exclaimed. He turned to Duke's and pulled him in close "Do you know how long I've been planning for this day?!" He squealed. Duke's head leaned back wide-eyed and in shock at what he just saw. Everyone seemed a bit stunned accept for Wade and Striker.

"Hold up, Hold up" John interrupted Wade's excitement."What the fuck was that?" He pointed to the doors the mutant had disappeared through. "Your new teammate" Striker stated, obviously.

"Uh, no...That was not even human." Chris said.

"Zero and I have been working on tracking this mutant down all the way to Romania where we finally found her tomb. It turns out feral healing factor are much stronger than we ever thought."

"Wait..." Wade put his hand up, "Did you say she?"

Striker stood in front of them completely dumbfounded. Out of that whole thing, that was what they heard? Dukes stepped in, "Yeah boss, I dunno if it's a good Idea n'all to have some woman on our team, 'specially one like that." Dukes had a mix of horror and disgust on his face. Striker's patience was wearing thin. This was, after all, great news and a leap in understanding mutants and his achieving his mission.

"Well, it's a good thing none of you have a choice in the matter." Striker looked at them all. "I need intel from the inside, someone who , I hope, will be able to get answers without killing our sources like you ungrateful bunch have been doing," he growled. It was true, none of them had the social skills to spy on targets in a social setting except for maybe Zero and Wraith. Bradley wasn't much of a talker. Fred, Logan, and Victor only knew how to beat information out and even if they

wanted to, they stood out in a crowd. And Wade, well, things always ended in a fight with that kid.

"Wait, did we just watch the same thing come through those doors? That's what you want rubbing shoulders with people at parties?! Yea, no...she'll blend in just fine." Wade gave Striker a thumbs up. The rest of the men agreed with Wade, Striker must have lost his damn mind.

"You're right," he started "I don't know how she will turn out, but I am prepared for any consequences. I'm running out of time and resources, I'm betting this will turn out for the better." His voice became almost a whisper "and if not, well, I'll find another place for her."

Maybe it was an empty threat, Striker was good at those. But something in his voice made the others uneasy, Wraith looked over to Dukes to see that he was already staring back with the same uneasy look.

"Well, that's great!" Wade clapped "Thank you, sir, for showing me something that will surely give me nightmares tonight." Wade turned on his heels and walked to his room. The rest of the men slowly dispersed to their own sleeping quarters, unfortunately, no one would be sleeping soundly knowing what was four floors below.

It was 2 a.m flying up from Acapulco, Mexico back to base. Both brothers were strapped into the side seats in silence waiting for the adrenaline to wear off.

Victor sat back in his seat looking at his brother while the plane was flying five thousand feet somewhere over New Mexico. The runt was in a mood. He could hear his heart thudding harder than normal, maybe it was his fucking ridiculous fear of planes, or he was still pissy about the fight before they left.

These were the missions Victor looked forward to, taking names and killing men. The best missions were the ones in the most dangerous cities where no one gave a second glance at murder even if at the claws of a mutant like him. Jimmy did most of the askin' Victor made sure they gave answers. Striker had been tracing the movements of drug lords and their connection but didn't tell the team why just that they had to find out what they were shipping to the coast of Africa. Victor didn't really see the connection between drug cartels and mutants but then again Victor wasn't paid to care. His job was whatever Striker commanded, and when the commands involved Victor embracing the beast within he was content.

This time, Striker had sent them out in the shithole of a city with no backup to go after some drug lord who called himself 'El Carnicero' the butcher. Victor had laughed at that. They managed to slip past the security on the bottom floor of the apartment and into his home. It was getting out of the building that was the problem.

The plane shook briefly hitting turbulence and he heard Jimmy's quiet growl as he clenched his buckles tighter. Victor rolled his head to the side and gave Jimmy a toothy grin. He didn't understand why the runt was afraid of flying, of all things. Shit most frails weren't even afraid to get on a plane. Jimmy once took a canon ball to the chest what the hell did he have to be afraid of?

"Wipe that goddamn smirk off"

Victor's grin twitched into a snarl. Jimmy was lucky he was his brother if that shit came out of any other man's mouth he would break their fucking jaw. Being brothers meant that Jimmy had some leeway, most of the time. "What'd you just say?"

Logan glared at his brother and decided it wasn't worth getting riled up again. The last time they did something out of anger, they had been surrounded with the Butcher's guards. Bullets and blood sprayed across the room. It had taken a little longer than they'd like but they made it out with their clothes covered in holes and blood but not a scar to remember it by. Now they just had to sit, angry at each other for coming back empty handed.