Happy holidays everyone! ;)

Trigger warning: Minor transphobia up ahead.

Tom had to force himself to remain composed as the familiar mountain range that had been his home for almost two years of his life came into view. He followed the Red Army trucks and jeeps through the mountainous terrain at a decent pace, kicking up a cloud of dust as they treaded on the dirt road back to the main base Tom made sure to stay within view of the truck that transported his injured friend at all times throughout the trip.

When they finally climbed the last stretch of slope and into the Red Army's hangar, Tom drifted to a halt and stopped in front of the Red Leader himself. He told himself he wasn't trying to show off, but then that wouldn't be entirely true, now would it?

Over a hundred soldiers in blue and red attire occupied the area, all of them staring at him in particular. Tom was acutely conscious of their gazes, where curiosity mingled with hostility.

But his attention wasn't on them.

He nearly lost all capacity to breathe when he came face to face with the familiar caramel brown hair styled like horns, the burn scars on the right side of his face, the red robotic arm, and his singular silver-gray orb staring up at him oh so intently as he climbed off his Harley.

The Red Leader doesn't often make public appearances, so Tom was surprised to find that the war hadn't changed him as much as it probably should have.

Heart racing, Tom removed his helmet and flicked his spiky locks back, staring the Red Leader down as he did.

It's been five years since they last saw each other, and Tom lost count of how many months they lost contact altogether. What is going through the Norsk's head right now?

Noticing the arrival of a stranger in their midsts, the soldiers present in the hangar all clustered around their leader. Tom recognized Paul among them, who looked up at him first with an excited wave before murmuring something rapidly in Tord's one good ear, hovering at his left shoulder.

"Greetings." Red Leader's voice was level, giving nothing away. The searing longing in his one eye told Tom everything he needed to know. Had they not been in the presence of so many of his soldiers, Tord would've embraced him without a second thought. "I've been expecting you for quite some time."

Sergeant Gwen blinked, her gaze darting back and forth between the two of them. "Sir, do you two… know each other?"

"Indeed." Red Leader confirmed coolly. "This man is a trustworthy ally of ours."

Tom couldn't help but frown at his choice of words. He wouldn't exactly call himself a Red Army ally. He helped them this time because they needed rescue. That's it! He won't be going out of his way to help them win this thing.

Although, if he did, maybe the war would just end already and no one else had to die.

"Hmm… not even if your boyfriend and Red Army friends were in danger? ~" Asked the voice slyly.

Tom couldn't bring himself to answer that.

"Excuse me, sir." A man with platinum blond hair, tiny moss green eyes, and a beard stepped forward to address the Red Leader. Judging by his posture and behaviour, Tom guessed he's probably a Lieutenant. "With all due respect, this man has no business being here. We were just attacked and we need time to recover our strength. And if I may say so, it is very impeccable timing of his part. One of our bases gets obliterated, and this man arrives to be our hero? How can we be sure this is not a trap to lower our guard and blow us up next?"

"Nonsense." Red Leader waved his robotic hand breezily at the Lieutenant, a sign for silence, as he stepped away from the crowd to stand beside Tom; his gaze not once straying from him the entire time. He turned to address his army. "Everyone! This man is our guest, and as long as he remains within Red Army territory he will be treated as such. Am I making myself clear?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

Red Leader nodded, satisfied. "Good. Now return to your duties at once. I would like a private word with our guest of honour."

The Lieutenant hadn't quit glaring at Tom for an instant as the crowd of soldiers dispersed and went their separate ways. He snorted in response, glaring at the soldiers to get a move on and mind their own business.

Tom hardly had any time to react before arms wrapped around him tightly and had him pressed up against Tord's chest, driving all breath out of him as his digital eyes rounded in surprise.

"Tom! I am so glad you're finally here!" Tord cried out, nuzzling into his hair and stroking the back of his head as they twirled together. "I missed you so much! I knew you'd come back to me. I just knew it! But now you're actually here with me again!"

"Tord, I can't breathe!" Tom hissed, his whole body stiff in the embrace.

"Sir, you might want to relax your grip there just a bit." Paul put in teasingly. "Poor Tom here might actually pass out before we can properly catch up."

Tord let go of Tom with an apologetic smile. Tom could tell he was having a hard time actually feeling sorry for nearly choking him when he was beaming from ear to ear, just staring at him expectantly.

"You look great!" Paul's eyes shone as he stepped forward to greet Tom with a hearty hug. "What have you been up to this whole time?"

"Traveling here and there, mostly." Tom replied airily. "Nothing much."

"I had no idea you could drive one of these." Tord spoke softly, his gaze falling on Tom's Harley with undisguised keen interest in his eye. "It's a beautiful specimen. You wouldn't mind if I take a closer look at its inner workings, do you?"

"I do mind, yes!" Tom batted his robotic hand away. "It took me an awfully long time to get it back to working order in the first place, and I don't want you or any of your meddling little minions to mess with it."

Tord reared back in surprise. "You mean you… built this motorbike?"

"Sort of. I found this old thing just rotting away in a junkyard – polished it, and fixed it good as new." Tom said matter of factly.

Paul clapped his hands in excitement. "Oh wait until Pat hears you're back! We've all been missing you so much." He grinned. "Tord specially would never stop babbling about you."

"Come! We have a lot of catching up to do!" Tord grabbed Tom's hands and escorted him deeper into the base, Paul trailing after them.

Tom let his gaze wander as he was led farther into the Red Army base. Nothing had changed since the last time he'd been here. The hallways were a shiny silver marble, and bustling full of activity. Soldiers would often pause and stare at him, wondering who he is and why he is hanging out with their leader and commander.

"Hey, Patrick! You're never going to guess who's back!" Paul shouted as the General walked out of a room ahead of them.

The Polish soldier looked up. "Tom!" He nearly dropped the tablet he'd been taking down notes on as he hurried forward to greet him. "You came back!" Delight lit up his honeyed-green eyes.

Tom embraced him briefly, his heart quickening. "Glad to see you two haven't tied the knot without me just yet."

Patrick and Paul exchanged amused glances. "Actually…" They both lifted their hands to reveal matching rings on their hands.

Tom gasped. "No."

"Yes." Paul grinned.

Resisting the urge to squeal and jump, Tom rushed forward and embraced the two soldiers. "Oh my God, I am so happy you guys! I can't believe it's finally happening." He exclaimed. It was odd to think that life in the Red Army had moved on without him. "When's the wedding happening?"

"In spring." Responded Pat. "We're already busy with the preparations."

"And hey, now that you're here you guys can finally get a move on and have a wedding yourselves in the not so distant future!" Paul went on, giving Tom a nudge as he added in a low whisper. "Tord ain't gonna be young and handsome forever, you know."

Hot embarrassment flooded through Tom from head to toe as he glanced back at Tord. He had no idea how to respond and quickly returned the conversation back to the happy couple. "When did this happen?"

"It's actually quite a funny story-" Patrick began.

"Perhaps for a different time." Tord cut in. "Right now I would like some time alone with Tom." His face was still soft and easy-going, but something in his eye gave Tom the impression that there was something vital he needed to discuss in private. "Paul, do you mind taking over for me here?"

Paul arched his eyebrows in surprise. "Sure thing, sir! Anything for my two favourite love-birds." He smirked mischievously.

Tord and Tom simultaneously punched Paul's shoulders as the Commander shrank away and snorted with laughter.

"We will have plenty of time to talk later in greater detail." Pat dipped his head, smiling.

"Sounds great!" Tom agreed.

The two couples parted away and went their separate ways. Tom followed Tord as the Norwegian man led him away from everybody. They didn't speak until they've reached Tord's office and slipped inside the dim, empty room.

"Are you hungry?" Tord asked suddenly. "You must've come a long way to get here. I can order a soldier to bring in food for you – supper should be happening right now."

"I'm fine." Tom said. "I ate just before crossing the perimeter."

"Are you sure? Have you been properly feeding yourself out there, Thomas?" Tord eyed him worriedly. "You look… a lot skinnier than I remember."

Tom frowned. "Wow, thanks. But I am fine, really."

"Oh good! I am glad to see you're home safe at last, Thomas." Tord grinned.

"Me… too." Tom reluctantly agreed before shaking his head. "How long has Matt been in your service?" He narrowed his eyes accusingly.

Oh, right, I forgot all about that. Tord grimaced. "I'm not entirely sure. A couple of weeks at most?" He shrugged. "Truth be told, I had no idea of his involvement with the Red Army until I saw him for myself today. This news is as much a shock to me as it is to you, Thomas."

"How can you not know he was part of your army?" Tom demanded. "Don't new recruits have to be approved by you first before joining?"

"Not necessarily. I only look at special cases and demands. I leave the admission of new recruits to one of my other generals, and she couldn't have known my connection to Matt." He paused, puzzled. "Still... the system should have picked up on Matt's profile and indentified him as a person of interest. Strange that he managed to fall through the gap."

"How could this happen?" Tom demanded, his hands running through his messy locks. "Why would Matt join the Red Army all of the sudden?"

"Beats me. I would like to know the answer to that myself." Tord crossed his arms.

Tom's shoulders drooped. "He's… he is going to be okay, right?" He asked, his voice hollow. "His wounds aren't that serious, right? Your doctors can heal him?"

Tord reached forward to take one of his hands in his own. "Matt is going to be fine. I have my best doctors looking after him, and I promise I will personally see to it that he gets all the best possible care in the facility. Anything he needs I will be happy to provide!" He vowed, gently caressing the back of Tom's hand with his robotic thumb. "He will be fine, you'll see."

"You would do that?" Tom sighed.

"Of course!" Tord kissed his hand. "Anything for the most important man in my life."

"Yeah…" Tom winced and turned away, pulling his hand out of Tord's grasp.

Tord frowned, already craving his contact once again. "I am happy that you're back. But why did you stop responding to my messages, Thomas?"

"Look, it's been a long day and I am really tired. I know I owe you answers, and we have a lot to discuss, but right now I need some time to rest." Tom murmured. "I will tell you everything in due time."

Tord looked as if he wanted to argue but thought better of it and nodded. "Alright." He conceded. "You may stay here and rest. Take as long as you like. I have to get going and return to my duties now. I will be back for you later." The Norwegian man padded away, turning back to Tom just as he was about to leave the room. A faint smile on his face. "It's great to have you back, Thomas."

Tom smiled back and said nothing.

He waited until Tord left the room and the door shut. The instant he was alone Tom released a weary sigh, his shoulders sagging as the tension left his body. He carded a hand through his spiky locks and walked into Tord's bedroom.

Tom didn't know what he'd expected to find upon his return to the Red Army. A warm welcome was debatable, but not high on his list. Especially after he went through great lengths to ignore Tord's messages and pretend nothing was wrong.

Gazing around the scarlet bedroom Tom couldn't help but already miss his freedom as the reality of the situation set in on him.

Stuck inside this grand, empty, windowless room Tom climbed onto the bed and turned on his back, staring at the ceiling pensively. Tord was under the impression he came back for good. Worse still; he thinks he came back for him! How will Tom break to him the truth of why he is really back?

Help! ~

A distant, desperate shrill cut faintly through his head. Beckoning him. Crying out in the darkness Tom thought was unresponsive for the longest time.

Help me! ~

He feels the tug, urging him to follow it. The tug was stronger now but still relatively faint. Tom gripped his head tiredly. "Who are you?" He closed his eyes. "How can I help you?"

Look for me! ~

Not getting any useful answers Tom curled up under the bed sheets, his breathing slowing down as he focused on resting. He will feel much better after a nap. And yet, even as he drifted off into sleep the faint wailing could still be heard echoing in the far corners of his own mind.

Come find me! ~

(Meanwhile…)

Reagan didn't stop running. Even when the chains around his ankles started tripping him over with every desperate step and hindering his pace, the restraints dug deeper into his skin to the point of bleeding, and his chest ached tight with pain as he fought to catch his breath. He kept going without ever looking back. He couldn't afford to waste this opportunity and be caught.

It took nearly over an hour but eventually Reagan managed to put a good amount of distance between himself and the wreckage of the former Red Army base.

With the chaos going on, the Red soldiers stationed within the city will diverge their attention to the base, and Reagan will have a small window of opportunity to find some place to hide and formulate a getaway plan.

Forcing his feet to carry him onward, he stumbled and turned the corner into an alleyway that led into the woods. The sky was darkening. The breeze picked up and the temperature gradually dropped as a small drizzle rained down from the gray-pink clouds. Water dripped all around him, sounding unnaturally loud to his sensitive ears, and his bare feet slipped on the muddy ground.

Reagan dived into the undergrowth. The overarching trees would provide him shelter, and his chances of running into a Red Army patrol considerably lessened.

Panting and drooling excessively, Reagan staggered to a large boulder in a clearing and sat down.

Tipping his head forward, Reagan watched as his saliva dripped between the gaps in his muzzle and fell on his chains with a small sizzling hiss.

He tugged and pulled at his restraints with all of his remaining strength but it still wouldn't budge.

Those damn pesky scientists knew what they were doing when they latched these chains on him. Bing created this special metal that was impervious to his acid breath, but that mad f#cker probably didn't expect Reagan to be so damn stubborn and patient. Taking his time in using his poisonous saliva, bit by bit each and every day, to weaken the chains and have them erode with time.

With one last powerful pull his restraints gave away as he continued tugging away at them and his hands and feet were finally free to move around. Reagan continued expelling excessive amounts of acid until, at last, his muzzle followed suit and clattered uselessly to the ground.

"Much… better." Reagan murmured gleefully, only to be immediately displeased by the raspy, disused quality of his voice. He cleared his throat and moved to snap the chain around his neck when he suddenly caught a faint whiff in the breeze.

Someone actually had the gall to sneak up on him! This should be fun…

Reagan whipped around to confront his stalker when a blue and red blur burst out from behind the trees and slammed into him.

He hissed in shock as he was thrown sideways onto the muddied ground, the Red Army soldier pinning him down and with their whole body, twisting his arms firmly behind his back.

Reagan tasted earth on his tongue and spat out a mouthful of grit.

"Don't move. Don't try to resist or attempt to escape, asset." The soldier ordered as Reagan forced himself to go limp and relax all his muscles. "I will contact my superiors and have them send out a patrol to come pick us up in no time."

He heard the soldier rummage through one of his pockets before listening in for the chime and static hiss of a communicator. "Agent Dante Autumns to main base – I have secured the asset. Send a patrol to these coordinates-"

Reagan's mind reeled, suddenly fearful of what would happen to him. The thought of what Bing would do to him if he were to be sent back to the lab twisted his guts painfully.

Before the soldier could finish his sentence, Reagan surged up with all his strength and dislodged the man off of him. His act had worked. The soldier truly believed he'd easily immobilized Reagan and he wouldn't be able to escape his grasp. The soldier yelped with surprise as he was thrown clear.

Lightning fast, Reagan jumped to his feet and grabbed Dante's wrist; wrestling the communicator out of his hands before swiping one leg under the soldier's feet to topple him to the ground. Dante glared up at him in shock.

"Sorry, kiddo." Reagan grinned, crushing the communicator with one hand. "But I did not stay imprisoned for five years in a lab, waiting for a chance to escape, just to be immediately caught again by a rookie."

He blinked when he scrutinized his opponent for the first time. A young man, perhaps two or three years younger than himself, with smooth black hair, tanned skin, lithe body, and round blue eyes.

In the next heartbeat, Dante pulled out his pistol from his holster and aimed straight at him. "Hands behind your back now!"

Reagan arched one eyebrow. "Or what? You're going to kill me? Not the smartest move, kiddo. You are aware I am very valuable to your little army alive, so I don't think you have the balls to just-"

He cut off with an enraged and agonized screech as Dante unexpectedly pulled the trigger and shot him in the right shoulder. "F#ck!"

"Next time it will be your leg." Dante growled.

The pain should have stunned Reagan, but it only made him angrier. Just who the f#ck did this little pipsqueak think he is to shoot him like that? He won't admit it, but a part of him was genuinely impressed by the ballsy attitude of this rookie.

"Not bad, kid." Reagan chuckled darkly. "But you'll need to do a lot better than that!"

Dante stood his ground and puffed out his chest, glaring a challenge straight back at his face. "Raise your arms above your head and surrender, asset. Or else!"

"You and what army?" Reagan drew back his lip defiantly, a glint of amusement dancing in his green eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, it's just you and me here and you can't call for backup anymore."

"Enough talk." Dante spat, still aiming the gun at him. "Last chance, asset!"

Reagan's fierce green eyes sparked with new respect for the young soldier. He could tell he was eager to fight, prove himself and serve his army. For a newbie, he has courage. Reagan decided to do what he was truly good at and play some mind games. He approached slowly, arms raised above his head.

"Hey now, let's not be too hasty." He rasped in a silky tone. "Can't we just pretend we never met and go our own ways? Neither of us needs to get hurt for the sake of the reds."

Much to his annoyance the agent wasn't so easily deceived. Reagan wouldn't be surprised if all soldiers heard of his manipulative past after his imprisonment, in the off chance he did manage to escape.

Not giving the soldier the chance to react, Reagan lunged forward, catching Dante off guard before he could even conceive the thought of pulling the trigger again. Locked together, they rolled over and over on the muddy ground as Reagan slapped the soldier's gun out of his grip, and quickly wrapped his hands around Dante's neck and applied pressure.

Reagan felt savage delight as his hands clamped down on the soldier's supple neck. If he had the energy he wouldn't hesitate to shift and gobble up the puny agent beneath him to regain back his strength.

He thought he had the upper hand now, but he didn't account for the soldier to grab him by the chain around his neck and use his own weight to roll them over and switch their positions. Reagan found himself with his back pressed to the ground while he stared up at Dante who firmly tugged at his chain until it became too hard to breathe.

To his frustration, Reagan couldn't seem to strike back. The agent had been smart, straddling him barely away from his reach.

Reagan ceased fighting altogether, feeling the last of his strength ebbing away. To his horror it would appear as though this fight would be a repeat of his confrontation with freaky eyes so long ago that lead to his imprisonment. The feel of a tight pressure in his neck; and the helpless sensation of being unable to make it stop as he lost consciousness. His breath wheezed, and hunger gnawed at him like a live rat in his belly.

The pressure on his throat suddenly released, and Reagan gasped greedily for air.

The agent stared down at him. "Have you had enough yet?"

"F#ck off!" Reagan spat, trying to get out from under him only to slump to the ground in a pathetic heap. He glared at the soldier. "If I wasn't so weak, I'd have shredded you. Mark my words." His mouth twisted in pain. "Go ahead. Lock me up again, why don't you? Or kill me if you prefer – you'll be doing me and the whole world a favour."

Please… no more.

For a heartbeat the agent hesitated, something in his eyes that Reagan couldn't read.

"What are you waiting for, d#ck head?" Reagan taunted him. "Be a f#cking man and finish this already!"

Dante flinched and Reagan knew at once he'd hit a nerve. Rage flared in his blue eyes. "I am a man!" He snarled indignantly.

Reagan narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing him. He recognized that face – that tone of voice. Of someone who had his beliefs questioned time and time again and been put down for it all his life. He smirked. "Ha!" He snorted. "You're one of those, aren't cha? Born in the wrong body, so to speak. Don't tell me you only joined the reds so they could fix what's wrong with you-"

"Keep your mouth shut!" The soldier hissed. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Reagan's grin widened. "Here's your chance to prove yourself." He challenged. "Be the man you believe yourself to be and finish me off!"

Dante stared back at him impassively. Reagan saw his muscles relax as a spark of curiosity woke in his eyes. "You seem awfully desperate to die."

"Yeah? Well, if you knew anything about the way the Red Army run things behind the scenes you would be as well." Reagan snapped dryly. "What's the matter, girly? Are you stalling for something?"

He wanted to goad the soldier on, and make him kill him in a blind fit of rage. Anything to spare him from the horrors of the lab again. But Reagan's hunger and exhaustion were sapping the last of his strength with every heartbeat. He knew he could do no more here; he was at this agent's mercy. Whatever that was worth.

Dante rummaged through his satchel and to Reagan's surprise, pulled out a water bottle. He climbed off of him and handed him the bottle. "Here." He offered. "You need this more than I do."

Reagan seemed to deflate and stare back at him with uncertainty. What kind of game is he playing? He thought incredulously. The water is drugged. He is going to knock me out and I will wake up back in the lab with Larry and Bing.

Sensing his distrust, Dante removed the cap off the bottle and took a small sip to show him he meant no further harm.

Good enough for me! Snatching the bottle from the agent's hands, Reagan downed the whole bottle in one go; his throat parched from dehydration. He nearly choked a couple of times.

With a hiss of exasperation, Dante watched him closely and rummaged through his satchel again. "I don't have much food to give you." He said, kneeling down next to him. "I have some beef jerky, if you want?"

Reagan panted, numb with shock. Who is this strange man and why was he suddenly concerned in feeding him?

He reluctantly accepted the agent's offer and swallowed the beef jerky in a couple of famished bites. "So what do you want from me, eh?" He asked, his voice heavy and resigned. "If you intended to bring me back to main base, I believe you would've done so already."

"Well, I might still do that. And don't call me girly ever again." Dante growled. "After this recent getaway of yours, I'm sure your handlers will take extra precautions to make sure this mistake won't happen again."

Reagan frowned. He didn't like to be reminded of his vulnerability and his helplessness when it comes to his wretched captors.

"Clearly you've been through a lot, and I'm sure you don't want to go back, am I right?"

There it is. The beginnings of a deal in the making. Reagan was quite familiar with the concept and he expected as such from this sudden act of kindness. And yet there was something about this bold little agent, some spark that reminded Reagan of himself when he was a lot younger. Not like I'd ever tell him that! He waited patiently to hear what the agent had to say.

"Now… I can call my comrades to come pick us up and escort you back to main base." Dante went on. "Or… you can cooperate, and help me fulfil my mission of figuring out the culprit behind the recent attacks."

Reagan contemplated. "Interesting offer." He narrowed his eyes. "But what's in it for me?"

"Freedom."

Reagan eyed him sceptically. "As if you have the power to set me free. Red Leader's word is law, and he will never allow it!"

Dante stared down at him, his face giving nothing away. "The base we were both stationed at has just been obliterated. We have a fresh new lead on where to start our investigation." He said. "Think of this as your redemption. If you bring Red Leader the culprit behind these attacks to him, don't you think he might at least consider letting you go in exchange?"

As if! Reagan might've agreed with the agent in the past, when the worst thing he done was manipulate and take advantage of Eddie behind Red Leader's back. But he killed freaky eyes. Red Leader's vengeance would never be sated so long as he still draws breath in his lungs, and he will be at the mercy of Bing until then.

"Look, I don't know what went down between you and Red Leader – and truth be told, I don't care much for it either." Dante went on fiercely. "But I am giving you the chance to do the right thing. Millions of people's lives are at stake here, including your own. I give you my word to let you go by the end of our mission. You won't have to face Red Leader if you don't wish to."

"That's not your call to make."

"It will be. If you do your job properly and don't try to backstab me, then I will have no reason to inform my superiors about this. As far as they know, you are missing. What do you say?"

Reagan growled in defiance, trying to mask the panic that threatened to overtake him. He hated being in the mercy of others. Now that he is finally out of the lab he wanted nothing more than to get as far away from the Red Army as possible. But he'd been caught. Isn't freedom, after being locked away for five excruciating years, worth willingly collaborating with a pesky rookie for a couple of days at most? It sure beats being experimented on by a couple of maniacs, that's for damn sure!

"Fine." Reagan bowed his head in resignation. "You got yourself a deal."

Dante nodded slowly. "I will let you go and grab my gun back now." He warned sternly. "No funny business, remember?"

Reagan watched the soldier stand up, shooting him weary glances, and quickly pick up his gun. Once the weapon was safely back in his hands, Dante nodded for him to follow suit. With his permission granted, Reagan slowly scrambled to his feet so as to not startle his partner and kept his arms raised above his head the entire time.

"So what's the plan, partner?" Reagan asked, tipping his head.

Dante sighed. "We will go back to the wreckage and search for clues." He added hastily. "Don't worry; we will go when there are few soldiers around."

"Sounds… good. I guess." Reagan murmured begrudgingly. "But before we do that we need to make a few stops on the way. Get me some new clothes to blend in, and I need a pair of scissors badly. I look like a damn surfer hippie!"

Dante crossed his arms with an amused snort. "Well I can certainly see where your priorities are at."

"Hello? I have been stuck in a lab for five years without a bath or a haircut. If you were in my shoes you would make the same demands!"

"Fine, we can go get you a new wardrobe and hairstyle so long as you keep your end of the bargain and help me solve this case. But the chain stays." Dante conceded, pointing at the shackles around his neck. "I don't think we have properly introduced ourselves. I am Dante, by the way. Dante Autumns. What's your name?" He held his hand out for a handshake.

Reagan's eyes flitted between the soldier and his stretched out hand, surprised by the gesture. They fought in the mud and nearly choked each other to death, and now he wants to know his name? This soldier is weird, to say the least. And full of surprises!

"The name is Reagan Foley, kiddo." He gingerly took his hand and shook it, sealing the deal in his mind.

"Nice to meet you, Reagan." Dante dipped his head. "I know the circumstances aren't the best but I hope we can get along in this investigation until the deal is complete and we part ways in the end."

Reagan held back a smirk. This kid is truly gullible if he seriously believes they can get along. But maybe this reluctant alliance won't be so bad. Reagan is mostly free now anyway, save for his deal. His best chances are to play safe and do his part until a window of opportunity appears for him to ditch Dante. Maybe if he is lucky the rookie will get killed in action, or whoever freed him in the first place comes back to help him. They are clearly powerful if they can wipe out an entire base in one blow.

Whichever comes first.