Chapter Three: The Quiet Calm Before

March 21st, 2027 – 2000.

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Hesh laid on the couch on his father's back porch, Riley was wedged between his body and the cushions and used his chest as a pillow. It was an uncomfortable position, but Hesh tolerated it for the sake of the dog. Just like he'd done almost every night for the last few years. He didn't mind it. The only time it bothered him was when it was over 90 degrees outside and his big, double-coated dog got it in his head that he was going to freeze to death if he didn't have him laying practically on top of him. He'd tried to stick to a no pet policy as far as furniture and beds were concerned, and sometimes Riley did sleep on the floor or on his dog bed, but Hesh had caved pretty quick when he was still young. So there he was.

His right hand was buried in the fur of Riley's neck while he rested his left hand underneath his head. He needed to check the time. His dad had cooked him a nice, albeit belated birthday dinner and he'd sent Hesh and Logan to the store to grab a cake, then they'd eaten and watched the first movie that caught Hesh's eye. For someone that as of the day before was twenty-eight-years-old, sometimes it felt like he was stuck. It was an odd feeling. One that he couldn't describe very well. But that wasn't his main concern. No, he'd happily accept more time with his father and brother. Especially since most of their time together was spent going over military matters, bringing in reports, discussing strategy over dinner in the mess hall…all things that Hesh absolutely enjoyed. They made a difference. Together. But the reprieve his father offered that night was a short one. He was restless by nature, always had been, and he needed to get back to his quarters and start prep for their likely very long trek down to San Diego.

Faintly he could hear the sound of the waves as they lapped at the shore to one side and the muffled conversation and laughter between his father and brother on the other. It wasn't quite their home in San Diego, but their father seemed content. A lush, green yard in the front and back that eventually dipped down towards sand reeds and the beach for a short, maybe three minute walk. Gulls could be heard every morning along with songbirds. The ocean faintly rushed back and forth. It was hard not to feel relaxed. At the same time, his heart would always ache for the home he'd grown up in. The familiar roads and trails and beaches of San Diego, a comfortable house where everything good in his life had happened, now all of it probably crumbled and caved in on itself. Once resources had all been mined away and the Federation overran it, anything outside of the ruins of L.A. was inhospitable. Nothing nearly as nice as the beach house his father had bought off base.

He wondered if there was a home left for them to return to. Not to stay, obviously, but just to visit. A place they could catch their breath for just a minute. He doubted it, but he tried to stay hopeful nevertheless. Any old haunts there were left to visit would be in ruins. But at least they'd still be there, in some way. If they drove the Federation off then maybe they could find a way to restore the lives of those that had survived the strikes, to let them return to whatever homes they had lost. Let them get back to a normal existence. Some selfish part of him wanted that, actually. Maybe if not for him then for his brother or father. Riley, even. Whatever other family Hesh ended up with, if he wasn't killed before they fixed everything.

Hesh knew that No Man's Land wouldn't be anything like the home he remembered. Memories of the day everything changed replayed in his head. The fires, the flooding, the world splitting apart and his younger brother injured by a fiery explosion, their home probably sunken into the massive crater that had been formed right as they made it out of their front door. That was what was waiting for him, the rational side of his head argued, but the hopeless, stubborn optimist in him forced him to hold fast to the idea of new life and change. Whatever that looked like. Nature had been allowed to run wild in L.A., maybe there would be some beauty and familiarity left in San Diego. Even if he wasn't going to be there for sightseeing. It would at least make it somewhat bearable.

Not many people got to operate in No Man's Land, let alone that far down. That was what their father had told them. It was too dangerous, too unpredictable, in his words. The tremors that plagued California had become especially severe. As Hesh twisted his fingers through Riley's fur and carefully ran a hand across the soft, velvety texture of his ear, he wondered about the mission. There was something to this that they weren't being told. He was certain of it. He could see it on his father's face. His hesitance, his concern, and hidden underneath it all was a very faint spark. Logan had seen it too, if that look on his face had been any indication. This was important to their father. And likely bigger than they could imagine. Their father was a unique man. Always had been. He always had a good reason for what he did. And whatever life threw at him or Hesh and Logan, he took advantage of it, used it as a teaching opportunity. Maybe that's what the operation would be. Another one of his tests. Another lesson for them to learn. A small piece in a grander scheme…or something big and important like that.

He pulled his left arm from under his head, his buzzed scalp dropping to the slightly coarse fabric of the outdoor couch cushion. The porch lights would be enough to illuminate the screen. It was just after 2000. Suddenly he felt very tired. He always got up before the sun. Whenever he wasn't out and about, he tried to get as much sleep as his body allowed him. Usually it didn't allow much, but it was better than nothing. He could probably get a solid six or so hours in if he left right now. But a part of him didn't want to get up. The spring air, the gentle breeze, the salty smell of the ocean, his family talking inside…if he closed his eyes now he could imagine a simpler time. Let that keep him asleep.

Just as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back, just wanting a minute or two to rest, the screen porch whined as it was open and fell back in place with a slight wish sound and a gentle click. The abrupt sound made both Hesh and Riley startle. No matter how much care the person exiting the house had put into not disturbing the two of them. Hesh leaned his head back as his father's voice broke the silence of the night. "Sorry, didn't mean to spook you. Door slipped out of my hand," he said, his tone and expression apologetic. "Came out to tell you I was headed back to work."

"You burning the midnight oil again?" Hesh asked, straightening up. Riley let out a groan at the disturbance and loss of his pillow, but the groan evolved into a yawn and he shifted his position. As Hesh sat up and threw his legs over the side of the couch, Riley shoved his nose between the slight gap between Hesh and the couch. He had no idea how that was comfortable. But for some reason, the dog was unbothered.

"Somebody has to," their father replied. He put on a tired smile. "Just thought I'd say goodbye before I head out."

"Hang on, we'll head out with you. Saves us the trouble of locking up," Hesh said. He got to his feet and clicked his tongue for Riley to follow. Riley's ears pricked and he turned his head as Hesh started to head for the door. He didn't move until his name was called, though, leaping to his feet and following them in through the screen door. He headed right over to the kitchen counter where Logan was putting together some leftovers to take with him. Hesh grabbed the keys to his car from the island and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. Not towards the door, but it was the general direction. "Logan, you ready to head out yet?"

"Yeah, just a minute." Logan dug through the tupperware cabinet until he produced two plastic lids. Then he hopped to his feet and fastened them to the containers he'd been messing with before he crossed the kitchen and handed them out for Hesh. Riley followed him the whole way, apparently in hopes of a treat or a scrap. But he was disappointed. Logan had somehow managed to not make a mess and he'd carefully secured the food. An impressive feat for him. "Leftovers. For both of us. Dad told me I should."

"You know this is just going to rot in our fridges while we're out, right?" Hesh asked as he turned to his father, gesturing with the plastic container in his hands.

"Well, it's less food that I have to clean out," he deadpanned and shrugged, but the look in his eyes told Hesh that he was just messing with them. And he called the two of them smartasses. Even when it was obvious where their rare, cheekier sides had come from. He sighed and headed for the door, both boys and the dog falling into step behind him. "Besides, you'll be back in a few days. It's maybe a week of travel overall…plenty of time before it spoils, I think, unless you two plan on taking the scenic route."

"Maybe we'll do just that, what then?" Hesh tried to joke, but something about his father's words made it difficult. The optimism and half-jokes could only go so far, for all three of them. Another detail that told him there was more than met the eye. He was aware of Riley in step beside him as the dog's paws clacked on the hardwood floors, heeling perfectly without having to be told. He held his hand down so his fingers brushed the tip of Riley's ears as they crossed the house to the front door.

"Then I guess your food's gonna go bad." The reply was simple and spoken through a chuckle. Hesh exchanged a look with his brother, both of them less amused. The laugh wasn't an easy one. It was heavy and fatigued. As if he was laughing for their sake. He opened the front door and held it open for them, cutting off the light in the foyer as they exited one by one, closing it behind them and locking it as he headed for his own truck. Somehow that beat up old thing hadn't given out on him yet. Then again, he didn't let anyone near it unless he supervised the whole thing. Usually he just did the work himself. They crossed the yard, Hesh and his father unlocking their respective vehicles. As he reached his truck, he called out to the two of them, "I'll see you boys tomorrow. Get some rest, get your packing done, we'll go over some more fine details before the day's out."

"Don't forget to rest yourself, old man," Hesh called out to him, his voice raised just enough so that his father could hear but he wouldn't disturb the neighbors. The houses were, surprisingly, not right on top of each other. He'd have to really want to wake the whole place up. But regardless, he was taught to be mindful. "We need you at 100%, too. Let the kids take the wheel once in a while, get some sleep."

"Yeah, you just say that so you actually have a chance to catch up," his father teased, giving him a look.

Hesh and Logan actually chuckled that time. His brother gave him a look and a faint, crooked smile. "Seems he's onto ya."

"Guess so," Hesh snorted as he opened the back door so Riley could jump in.

"Can't get anything past me, you both should know that by now," their father said, a faint hint of mock superiority. If nothing else, Hesh hoped the light banter at least eased some of his worries. He was working. Constantly. He never rested. Not that Hesh and Logan were any better, but they had each other and their father to force them into breaks. Their father, on the other hand, tried to pull rank and seniority whenever they gave him a hard time about his work-life balance. It was hard to win against him. Since they couldn't, a few smiles and jokes here and there were the least they could do to help ease his burdens. He swung the door to his truck open, ducking in right as he said, "Goodnight, boys. Be careful."

"Always are," Logan replied with a shrug and a small smile as he dropped into the passenger seat of Hesh's truck. "Goodnight."

"See ya, Dad. Goodnight." Hesh waved into the darkness as his father's truck engine sputtered to life. He returned it, one arm out the window, and he pulled out of the driveway beside Hesh's own truck. Hesh dipped into his own seat. It wasn't a long trip, no more than maybe fifteen or twenty minutes from the base, but Logan had already dug through the center console in search of some CDs and given up in a matter of seconds before he flipped the station onto one of the saved ones Hesh had. He picked one of the rock stations, turning it down so it wasn't at offensive volume levels, and finally buckled up. Hesh just let him be. It took maybe a minute at most. A new record. Once the music was decided and his brother had put on his seatbelt, giving Hesh flashbacks to a time not long after he'd gotten his driver's license, Hesh backed out and the two were well on their way to the base.

The drive went by without conversation. Both Hesh and Logan left to the music as well as their own thoughts. Something about their dad's career, his old friends, and the way he operated had always been unusual, but as tensions continued to rise with the Federation it seemed to have gotten even more concerning. Some days he'd be locked in his office for almost a whole week. Others, he'd be out in the field on some vague mission while they patrolled the wall. It was a mixed bag. He seemed distant the whole day. Since they'd returned, all through dinner. It made sense. They probably weren't any better company. It had been a stressful day, just like almost every day had been. And there were plenty more stressful days to come. No one in their family had ever been good at not dwelling on that sort of thing, though.

At some point during the drive, his grip on the steering wheel must have given away his tension. They were on base, almost back to the barracks. The music was already low, but Logan reached over and turned it almost all the way down. Hesh could feel him staring at him. He tried to ignore it for about a minute, then he caved. He glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "What's wrong?"

"Do you think this is…I dunno, like the calm before the storm?" Logan asked him quietly. Hesh could hear him shift in his seat.

"What do you mean?" Hesh played dumb. He flexed his hands around the steering wheel, hearing his knuckles crack as he did. He really did have an iron grip on the thing.

"You know what I mean. There's more to this thing than Dad's telling us. Stuff he doesn't want us to know," he said. Hesh looked over to find he had stopped staring at him, now watching the buildings as they passed by them. "Things have been heating up with the Federation for a year or so, now this? The operation he wants to send us on, out in No Man's Land. It feels like it's coming to a head, y'know?"

Hesh shifted in his own seat. He forced himself to relax his grip on the steering wheel. He counted the turns. Two more, then the barracks. He wouldn't have to BS his way through the conversation for too long. Hopefully not long enough for Logan to catch on, anyways. He probably would. He was perceptive. More perceptive than most. And he and Hesh could read each other like a book. There wasn't much their family could hide from each other, but they could sure as hell try. "If there's something big going down, he wouldn't send us out there unless he knew we could handle it," he reasoned with a sigh. "Maybe it's one of his tests or something, but…when he's ready I'm sure he'll tell us."

Logan was quiet for a moment. Hesh looked over at him in time to make brief eye contact, which both of them promptly broke. Another second of silence, then Logan rightly observed, "You know something's off, too."

"Yeah, maybe so," Hesh said through yet another sigh. "But I trust Dad."

"I do too. Always have, he's never given us a reason not to," Logan said with a slight shrug. It was a simple fact. Both of them knew it. "But that doesn't mean he's not holding back. To protect us, yeah, maybe, I just…when you two are worried, I'm worried. So…I'm worried, now."

The comment was in passing, not meant to hold any weight, but it felt as though Hesh had been punched in the gut. He made the last turn before he'd arrive at the enlisted barracks, where he'd then drop Logan off. Next time, he'd reminded himself, they should take separate vehicles. Give each other some space with their own thoughts. Save the uncomfortable conversations. Hesh ignored the way the comment unintentionally wracked him with guilt and swallowed down the sharpness. "Don't be, Logan, I'm sorry. Wasn't trying to stress you out. I'm just trying to get in the right headspace, y'know? Work it all out in my head."

"I know. I'm doing it, too. I'm not worried about me, though, that isn't why I'm doing it," Logan replied. Straight to the point as always. "I'm more worried about the two of you. I don't think keeping things to yourselves is a good idea."

"Well, you hold a lot of your cards to your chest, so…stones in glass houses," Hesh said. Logan gave him a look and Hesh just smiled, reaching over to do the same thing to Logan that their father had done to him earlier that day. He lightly pushed his head back and forth from his scalp as he pulled into the parking lot, right as his brother shoved his hand away. Hesh chuckled and lightly patted Logan's brown hair back down before he pulled his hand back. "Don't get too caught up in your own head, Logan, it's not good for you."

"Says the dumbass doing the same thing," Logan muttered, but his tone wasn't harsh. He grabbed his container of food and exited the truck once the car had been parked, reaching into the back seat to give Riley a quick scratch in farewell before he held out the same free hand in a fist for Hesh. Hesh lightly bumped his fist with his own, and Logan took his leave. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yup. We can worry some more then," Hesh told him, half-joking as he forced a tired smile. He nodded towards the barracks building. "Now get going before you get your ass busted for breaking curfew or some shit."

"Roger, wilco, out," Logan replied, putting his fingers to his forehead and giving a half-hearted two finger salute. If you could call it a salute. "Goodnight."

"'Night."

Hesh sat in the truck with Riley until Logan safely disappeared inside. As if his brother was some scrawny teen he was worried would get jumped. There wasn't any need to worry. But it was better to be safe than sorry. Then he shifted out of park and drove for the officers' barracks just down the street. It was no more than maybe another minute on the road. It was in about the same state as the enlisted barracks, but they were kept separate regardless. Hesh still didn't know how he liked living alone, even after years had gone by. At least he had Riley to keep him company, though. And he didn't have to share a bathroom with his brother.

When he got up to his quarters, he packed what he was able to before he cut out the light. He was usually always prepared and ready to go. Something he picked up from his upbringing. The essentials were always ready to go. All he did was pack anything extra he might need, and as far as weapons and other gear went he would grab that from the armory the next day before their briefing. They'd probably head out not long after that. Could be that night or the next morning. It would probably be better to move under the cover of darkness, whatever they decided to do. His father probably had it all worked out. And whatever he decided, he was sure to have his reasons for it.

Although he trusted him and he trusted his brother, it was hard not to play through worst case scenarios in his head. Even with Riley curled up on the mattress beside him. Even though he was exhausted, after getting maybe an hour of sleep tops over three days, even though he was ready for his brain to just shut off so he could check out. The slight unease in the back of his head refused to relent.

Hesh, unfortunately, didn't get much sleep that night.


Elias sat at the conference table in his office, several coffee cups spread across it amongst the files, loose papers, tablets, and laptops that lined it, joined by Merrick and Kick just as he had been before. The other two members of their team were out in the field. All five of them were in search of a quick solution to their latest problem, the problem being the absence of one of their original numbers. Ajax was gone. And the only thing any of them wanted was to find a way to get him back. Grim had been first, and they'd found his body dumped somewhere. They'd gotten to Torch just minutes too late. Third time was supposed to be the charm…it never should have happened a third time to begin with, though.

Kick had practically been glued to the satellite images they had on hand. None of them were sure how he did what he did, but he'd managed to track the Federation's movements with incredible accuracy. And somehow they always managed to trip him up. His intel was always on point, the Federation just happened to always have a contingency. That's how they were losing people. So Kick stretched himself thin. He had everything laid out in front of him. Elias had seen him work before, but there was a noticeable difference in the way he was working that night. It was desperate. Furious. His fingers moved a mile a minute across keyboards and screens, and every so often he muttered to himself.

He'd pinpointed the likely course the patrol that took Ajax would take, along with their most likely end goal. They had continued to move south. And they had Keegan and their other remaining member, Nike, in the field to confirm that information. It wasn't a combat operation. They both excelled at recon and sharpshooting, and they both had a knack for getting in and out of places unseen. They'd tracked them on foot from Irvine, where Ajax had been taken, down the coast until they confirmed the Federation's movements. Everything had started to line up. Elias was just worried that it had lined up a little too perfectly.

"They're taking their time, from what Keegan said…" Kick muttered. He looked up, around at Elias and Merrick, getting their attention. He tapped something again, swiping to display the image on his tablet on one of the large screens on the wall. He pointed out the flashing, active indicator of their teams' respective positions, the last known location of the Federation patrol, and the time it had taken to travel that distance. "No confirmed ID on Ajax or his presence, but with the excessive, large patrols and the fact they're traveling an active supply route, along with the trucks…means they've got something that's worth protecting, that's for damn sure."

"How much time do we have?" Merrick asked. They had probably already lost precious time. They had a chance to make it up, though.

"Based on the rate they're traveling…we'll be on foot, they've got the advantage of vehicles…" Kick seemed to be working it out aloud. Under his breath he mumbled out some numbers and cities. Calculations that Elias would need a few minutes to do. He worked it out in a matter of seconds. "Assuming they actually have Ajax, and assuming we don't create any…roadblocks for them…it's almost a two day trek on foot if you don't stop…speed it along by keeping a steady running pace…maybe commandeer a vehicle, but that's unpredictable with the environment." He sighed and muttered some numbers while he clicked the pen in his hand repeatedly. Then he paused and looked over at Elias. "Think we could manage a helo, drop the team in at a certain point?"

Elias sighed. There was a point at which Federation activity made it too dangerous to risk sending a helicopter through the airspace courtesy of the tight air defenses. Any movement in No Man's Land was dangerous. There were risks. Risks they'd have to chance sooner or later. "If that's what we have to do, we'll do it," he said as he tightened his hand into a fist. "I can get you in, at least some of the way. Not all the way down, but it should save some time."

"I'll head out tonight, hoof it down to Keegan and Nike's location, and we can keep tracking the first group," Merrick volunteered without any hesitation. He sounded tired, but ready to go. Just like he always did. "Use the helicopter, drop your boys in, have them pick up the slack in case this one's just a decoy." He leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. "That way we cover all our bases. Don't give 'em the chance to pull a fast one on us."

"That could work," Kick agreed, his attention back on his screen. But he listened to everything. Never one to miss a detail. He pinpointed a few areas around Keegan's location and marked the locations in red. "Merrick makes a good point. Based on reports and satellite imaging, along with our last report, there's been a significant increase in Fed activity. The group at point that Keegan and Nike picked up on…it's more heavily guarded. But when you consider the fact they've been one step ahead of us, it really is a 50/50 chance that they've actually got Ajax."

"Alright. In that case, then…we'll tell Keegan to hold. Merrick, Kick, you'll regroup with the two of them tonight," Elias said. He debated not sending Kick, but they needed someone on the technical side of things. Someone with a more reliable range. Elias could get through a good distance from the Fort, but in case something went wrong he didn't want to risk them being without information or extraction. Kick was something of a jack of all trades. If they needed a fast exit, he could find it for them. Better than Elias could, that was for sure. "I'll be deploying Hesh and Logan out tomorrow afternoon. Fly them in as far as we can, have them hike the rest of the way…if we've played our cards right, then we'll have Ajax home safe and sound by the end of the week. God willing at least."

"Yeah, well, I don't think God's been willing too much in our favor these days," Merrick grumbled out, his expression and tone dull. Elias noticed that he had avoided looking at either one of them, and instead opted to stare out the window instead of the floor to avoid eye contact. He lightly tapped his index finger on his forearm. "You sure those two are ready for this? It's gonna be high stakes. Dangerous." Elias paused, opened his mouth to interject, but Merrick continued. He turned his head towards Elias, no longer avoiding eye contact. "And I'm not just talking about Ajax. We're getting to the bottom of all of this, one way or another. It's not something we can ignore. You know the pressure riding on us to fix whatever fuck-up has caused this damn bounty hunt, and you know what's on the line."

"They can handle it," Elias said. "You've seen them. They've got skills, they've got teamwork, they've got nerve. If anyone can keep up with us, it's them."

"Yeah, I don't doubt any of that. What I'm worried about is what's gonna happen if we fail," Merrick said. Always the one to think about the worst-case scenario. He called himself a realist, but he walked an incredibly fine line between simply being realistic and downright falling prey to pessimism. "Whatever's coming, whatever has to happen…someone's not walking away from it. They need to be ready to say goodbye. To you, to each other, their home, anyone."

Elias clenched his jaw harshly. He felt his teeth clack as he did. "We won't fail."

"Are you ready to say goodbye, Elias?" Merrick asked him pointedly. His tone was not as harsh as his expression would have suggested.

Elias understood what he was getting at. The point he had attempted to drive home. In his own way, he was concerned for their family's wellbeing, but Elias wasn't in the mood for his roundabout ways of showing he cared. He wasn't interested in salting old wounds, either. He clenched and unclenched his jaws. "They'll be ready for whatever they have to be. They'll adapt, all of us will," he said. He wasn't a stranger to grief and fear like Merrick might unintentionally have suggested. He just chose not to wrap himself up in those things. Not that Merrick did. In the field, he focused on what was in front of him. It was when he was idle that he started to falter. "We'll stop this or we'll die trying. We've all accepted that, the two of them included."

Merrick stared him down for a moment as he seemed to consider what Elias had said. The hidden message there being an order to stop worrying. Then he stiffly dipped his head in a nod. His expression shifted. "Alright. You know best," he said, and it wasn't snide or passive aggressive. It was about as close to genuine as you could get with him at that point. He uncrossed his arms. "We'll go gear up, get on the road ASAP. We'll let you know once we've linked up in the field."

Elias nodded slowly. "Be careful, watch your backs."

"Yeah, don't miss us too much," Merrick said. He shoved his chair back and got to his feet with a grunt.

"I'll have my hands full here. Won't have time to miss your ugly asses," Elias said lightly. Kick let out an amused snort while Merrick gave a light scoff. Some of the tension around the situation eased. Not enough to fully relax them, but enough to get them in a somewhat better headspace. "I'll see you all when you get back."

"Sounds like a plan." Merrick started for the door while Kick finished packing up his tablet and computer. As he left, he added, "And don't worry about the kids. We'll look out for them, too."

Elias gave him a grateful smile and watched as he and Kick left. It wasn't anything new. He'd watched them go over and over. But there was a certain guilt he had since they'd started being hunted. He should be out in the field with them. He shouldn't have been delegated to a desk job, with his men left behind to fight and die, he should have been out there with them like he used to be. He should have been in their place. It was a position he was forced into by higher-ups and the simple fact he was practically drowned in paperwork on the duty. A good leader was on the field with his men. A good leader fought and died alongside his men. And yet there he was, watching as his men and eventually his sons left while he stayed nice and comfortable in his office. He hated everything about it.

The worst thing about promotions he'd decided early on wasn't the paperwork. He'd watched soldiers become bored out of their mind and restless as their job shifted and became less hands on. Gabriel was in line for a promotion before he'd been killed all those years ago. He'd never made it to Major. Elias had. After all the bellyaching he'd had to endure over drinks, he'd expected worse from being stuck at Captain. He figured it would get worse, but he didn't expect it to be quite as bad as it was. He'd have loved a word with Gabriel. Some kind of jab about how he'd had it worse. It was lonely at the top. That much was for sure.

After Merrick and Kick left to get prepped to go, Elias busied himself with his work. He dumped the mugs of cold coffee and the pot that had gone lukewarm and brewed another, then checked the time. He'd get maybe an hour of sleep tonight, by his best estimate. Probably on the couch in his office. At least he had a fresh uniform and some toiletries he kept around. A habit he'd picked up from both his late wife and his years of service. It was one thing to be filthy out in the field. It was an entirely different story when you worked in close, clean quarters with someone. Everyone around you would be incredibly grateful that you changed out of the uniform you had worn for nearly twenty-four hours straight in the California heat and then proceeded to sleep in. But that wasn't high on his list of priorities.

He marched over to his desk. It was a mess. It always was. Screens everywhere they'd fit, thick files, loose papers, sticky notes, pens and markers he hadn't picked up. Amidst it all were pictures of his family. Most of them were of the boys at different milestones throughout their lives, from baby pictures all the way to boot camp graduations. There were a few pictures of his wife and the rest of the Ghosts and himself among them. Those were pictures he'd face down if he had gone through a particularly rough week. He tried not to cling too much to his wife or his fallen brothers. The memories were a comfort, depending on the day, but his sons and the men he had left were there, in the present. They were his drive. His reminder to move forward, not back. He briefly looked the pictures over, then booted up his computer.

Elias looked through mission reports, both from Hesh and from Merrick. He looked for some peace of mind somewhere. He trusted both his sons and his team, but that didn't mean he couldn't go the extra mile for them. Some reassurance or extra insurance that they'd come home from this. As both a father and leader to them, he felt like he owed the entire group what little he could offer them. Something to make up for the dangers. He'd know it when he found it. And eventually he did. There was a consistency he picked up on, mostly from Hesh's reports. It piqued his interest. Although he probably didn't need something else added to his workload, he pulled the necessary files and set them aside. As a single father and military commander, he'd mastered the art of multitasking long ago. One additional task was nothing.

Throughout the night, well into the early morning hours, Elias worked his way through the mountains of information and paperwork he'd had to do. And through it all he tried to find some way to make sense of everything that had been happening. A task that was much easier said than done, he realized. But he was nothing if not stubborn. Incredibly stubborn. Although his body begged him to give into sleep, he stayed laser focused on his task. By the time he finally allowed himself an hour to rest, he wasn't any better off than when he started. By the time the alarm on his watch startled him out of his already light and brief sleep, he rose with a sigh and readied himself to get back to work. He'd made some progress, he reassured himself.

At least he'd had one breakthrough. For now that would have to be enough


March 22nd, 2027 – 0600.

The military offered Specialist Lauren Pierce a very particular routine, one that even with the opportunity she rarely deviated from. She'd learned to keep her head down. To do her job to the best of her ability, strive to do it better than that still, and not to hesitate. It wasn't an understatement to say that hesitation in the field was the difference between life or death, not just for one person but for the entire squad. And the pressure that rode on her shoulders was an especially hard one to manage. So although she was prepared for changes, even faced them on a regular basis, she maintained a very simple routine both out of duty and necessity for her own sanity. Every day had a specific order to it when she wasn't in the field for days. Wake up, PT, wash up, eat if she had time, handle supplies and shipments, head outside the wall with the recon team or help out in the clinic, do whatever she had to throughout the day, clean up again if necessary, handle whatever paperwork came with the day, eat – again, if she found the time – and then go to bed. Rinse and repeat.

Things could absolutely change at any time. Lauren had learned that early on. But usually it was the same. Outside of the wall there was a different routine if she was out for longer than twelve or so hours. They were upping the amount of patrols again, though. She doubted her team was going to be spending another three days out when they'd just gotten back yesterday morning. So she went about her normal tasks. She combined the fourth and fifth tasks she had that day. Instead of wasting time with a full course meal, she opted for a protein bar while she took inventory in the clinic where she would likely be for the rest of the day unless something came up. Usually no one wanted something to come up. She definitely didn't. So when something did, she wasn't sure how to feel.

"Hey, Hawkeye." The sound of a nickname that she used to groan at but could never bring herself to fully hate instinctively caught her attention. She knew exactly what it was a reference to. The astounding lack of similarities between her and her namesake other than a coincidental last name was glaringly obvious to her. The guy that dubbed her with it was her superior officer, though. She couldn't shake it if she tried. And she'd tried. Briefly. The person that called out to her wasn't aware of the 'fight' she had with the name, though. It was one of the actual doctors. An officer, one she wasn't well acquainted with. "Major Walker asked to see you."

"Major…Walker?" Lauren pulled herself out of her work, tablet in one hand and half-eaten protein bar in the other. Some bland chocolate-peanut butter combination. At least it helped her focus. She blinked and looked up at the doctor – a Captain, Garcia – and searched his expression for any sign she had done something wrong. Her first instinct was always that she'd done something. Whatever it was, she could never be sure. She always kept her nose clean. "You mean Lieutenant and Sergeant Walker's father, right?"

"The one and only," Garcia responded. Everyone knew about the Walker family. Military family, career soldiers, about as tight knit as any family could be. Lauren was assigned to the same squad as the Walker boys. She hadn't heard about their father from them, but from other people. They never flaunted his position around, never acted tough just because of their daddy's status, and in no way acted anything like the Army brats she'd met that had actually gone on to serve. Or at least you'd never guess they were an officer's kids. One thing was for sure, though. Almost everyone respected the hell out of him.

Lauren had only actually met him a few times. He was their battalion commander, surprisingly not on the fast track to Lieutenant Colonel in spite of the impressive service record she'd heard he boasted. He was not exactly a hard ass. But he had a presence that made him very intimidating nonetheless. She didn't want to get on his bad side. Actually, she didn't want to get on anyone's bad side. She swallowed. "Do you know what it's about by any chance?"

"I didn't ask the details," Garcia said with a shrug. Just great. He motioned for her to hand over the tablet, his expression blank. "I doubt you're in trouble. He might just want more info about the mess you guys ran into. Or maybe something came up that he needs you for." She passed him the tablet and he gestured behind him with it as he took it. "Won't know until you get there. We can cover things here until you get back, just get going."

"Yes, sir, thanks, Captain," she said, simple and rehearsed and through a breath that managed to escape no matter how hard she shoved down the sigh it had come along with. The Captain didn't seem to notice, but she cursed herself for it anyway. It wasn't normal for her to be asked over to Major Walker's command post. In fact, she went about her day to day life in an attempt to do a good enough job that her commanding officers never asked to see her for any reason ever. To her, it was like being sent to the principal's office. She felt like she was in trouble even though she was sure she hadn't done anything wrong. She clenched her fist around the bar in her hand and chucked it into the trash on her way out, frustrated she had to waste it but almost glad she had an excuse not to finish it. Her appetite had vanished pretty quick.

It took her a few minutes to walk from the clinic, past the tents they used for extra hospital space and triage, and out onto the streets that would lead her to Major Walker's post. It wasn't a long walk. Maybe fifteen or twenty minutes. It was surprisingly quiet, not that Lauren would ever voice that aloud. The moment you said something was the moment everything went wrong. Soldiers walked past in small groups or pairs here and there, trucks and other vehicles rumbled past, but for the most part things could have been busier. She knew that everyone, herself included, would take a slow day over a busy one. She definitely would. If she was busy, it meant several people were bleeding out. Or at the very least sick and miserable. It was hard to get soldiers to give into first aid unless they were on the verge of actual death sometimes.

Lauren made relatively good time on her march to Walker's building. She had kept a steady, brisk pace, not interested in prolonging whatever she was in for any longer than absolutely necessary. She made it up the stairs, hyper aware of everyone around her in the first office area. One look around and one question about Walker's whereabouts later and she was up the second flight of stairs, the one that led to his office. There wasn't a door for her to knock on, so she just entered through the kitchenette and lightly knocked on the entryway into the main office area.

Major Walker sat at his desk, his back facing her. When she knocked, his already perfect, straight posture went even more rigid if it was possible. He spun the swivel chair to face her, and his tired expression turned into an equally tired smile. His boys, she realized, both had a good blend of his features. The eyes and brows, mainly. She wasn't exactly surprised by his friendliness, but it didn't set her at ease. Mostly because she had no idea why he wanted to see her and her brain was always hard wired to expect the worst. He got to his feet with minimal effort and only a slightly fatigued grunt.

He took a step forward and reached out slightly, motioning for her to step into the office. "Specialist Pierce, good to see you," he said with a smile in greeting. "Having a good morning?"

"Yes, sir." Lauren stepped inside, pretty sure her tension was obvious. She glanced around the office, then at Walker's face. Not his eyes. But her head was high enough that she could have passed it off as such. Onto the pleasantries. Her voice probably wavered. "Doing well yourself, sir?"

"About as well as I can be, all things considered," Walker said. His tone was light. That set her at ease, just every so slightly, since it meant he probably wasn't angry. Or maybe he was good at hiding it. She could feel him staring at her. "You seem tense, soldier. You sure everything's alright?"

"Yes, sir, I'm just…" Lauren paused. She didn't want to sound too nervous. And she had to sound put together. "Nothing's wrong, sir. I was only wondering what you called me up here for, sir."

"Well, for one, you can knock it off with the 'sir' nonsense, I didn't ask to see you to intimidate you. You're not in trouble, Pierce, quite the opposite actually," he said with a short chuckle. "Relax. Or…at ease." Lauren felt a breath of relief. Her rigid posture relaxed some, her feet moved a few inches apart and her hands behind her back. He reached for a file on his desk and flipped through it. "Specialist Pierce…heard from my sons that they like to call you 'Hawkeye'. M*A*S*H reference, right?"

Lauren nodded. "Yes, si– yes, it is. Can't complain, I guess, it was a fun show."

"Old show, too. Used to watch reruns growing up before it wrapped up, then with my boys once they came along," Walker said with a slight smile as he glanced up at her, seemingly amused. "You're a young kid, I'm amazed you've seen it before."

"I wasn't allowed to watch a lot of TV growing up. Old shows and movies were kind of my jam as a kid," Lauren pointed out, forcing a small smile. She didn't actually mind it. She had a lot of fun with older shows, got to branch out as she got older, and had a fun variety of different shows under her belt. It made it easy to connect with a bunch of different people. Which helped out when someone was going into shock and she needed them to stay calm. She flexed her fingers behind her back. "I like to think I'm not as much of a pain as that Hawkeye was, though. At least I try not to be."

"Well, I dunno, the guy was a damn good surgeon. From the look of things, you could give the guy a run for his money…medic, surgeon…not really relevant, your job and work flow is probably about the same," Walker said with a shrug. He continued to look through the file. "Enlisted…right after you turned eighteen, been on active duty for four years. Father was a Navy pilot, mother was a doctor. Scored well on the ASVAB, got to choose your MOS, went in as a 68W, passed the special operations course for it last year. Solid career choice." He gave a nod of approval, then he went on. "And since then, all the reports I've read are pretty impressive. A bit nervous in general, but you've done well taking charge and administering care. Saved a lot of good people, soldiers and civilians alike. Including a civilian yesterday. Kept him from bleeding out, then helped cover him and your allies."

Lauren felt herself clench her jaw. "I was just doing my job. It's nothing impressive," she said carefully. "I probably could have done more."

"Well, maybe so, but you did what you could in the moment," Walker said. He snapped the file closed and dropped it back onto his desk, clearing his throat. "Point is, your obvious nerves and hesitancy aside, you've done your job well enough. I think you've got a lot of promise."

"Promise for…what exactly?" Lauren blinked a few times.

"There's an operation underway. I'm sending two teams into No Man's Land for a recon and rescue mission," Walker said. His posture tensed again and his expression and tone were serious, but he didn't sound harsh. He continued with a sigh. "It's going to be dangerous, as you could probably expect. The chance of casualties is high, pretty much expected. I'm sure that you can see where I'm going with this. Everyone's trained in buddy aid, but it's an extra precaution. There's no telling what I'm sending anyone into or what could happen."

"So you need someone trained for more than just basic first aid," Lauren guessed with a short nod. "I'm assuming I'm not here because you wanna know what I think about it, right?"

"Smart girl. You're here because I like to give people a warning. Give 'em time to prepare themselves, mentally and physically, back out if they want to. Pretty much what I'm here for, right?" Walker said with a small smile. He lifted his arm to glance at his watch before he took a deep breath. "The official briefing is at 1200. I should have come to you yesterday, give you an extra night to prepare, but you won't be going out until this evening anyways. I'd looked at your files before, but…" He trailed off, then gave her a sheepish and apologetic laugh. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you're a last minute addition. I needed someone to watch over everyone. Didn't hit me until I went over the mission reports. And you seemed as good a candidate as any."

"I understand," Lauren said with a slow nod. She wasn't quite sure what to say or think or feel. She hadn't been very far outside of the wall. Their team may have been a special forces team, but they never left what used to be Los Angeles' city limits. She took a deep breath. She could feel her nerves as they started to rise once again, tightening her throat and chest. "I'll be ready, sir."

"I'm sure you will," Walker said. She caught a glimpse of something in his eyes. Not quite a mischievous look, but she got the feeling he was holding back. Suddenly she got an odd feeling. The kind of feeling she remembered from when she was little and her older brother wanted to teach her how to swim and had decided that the best way to start her out was to just throw her into the pool. In his defense she had some floats to aid her but it hadn't been any less terrifying. He continued, odd look still there. Part of her wondered if he knew she was onto him. If he was onto anything at all. He still intimidated her, friendly smiles and gentle laughs aside. "You'll be deployed on the smaller of the two teams. I assume you're familiar with both of my sons. Well, and Riley, too."

"Yes, sir," she replied with a nod. She knew them. And apparently the friendliness and simultaneous weird behavior and cleverness was a family trait. "They're good men. Good soldiers, too. I'm sure you're proud of them."

"If you're trying to kiss my ass, you don't have to," Walker said as his eyes suddenly lit up. He let out another short but light laugh. "If they ever act like complete jackasses you can tell me. I raised 'em, and I'm definitely proud of 'em, but trust me I know what those two can get up to. I don't doubt they're good men or soldiers, I just know 'em too well to let 'em off the hook."

"They've never given me any trouble," Lauren said with a small chuckle of her own. Her own attempt to keep the tension low. She paused, then blew out a snort. "Well, I mean, except for the whole Hawkeye thing. Lieutenant Walker started it. All he and Sergeant Walker had to say on it was that it sounded cool."

"Yeah…David – Hesh, that is – has a thing for nicknames. Kinda…kinda has a knack for 'em, I suppose. I'm amazed he never gave Logan one, however 'cool' both of them think they are. Not for a lack of trying, Logan's just something special. Hard to find anything that does him justice," Walker said through his grin. His eyes practically twinkled. Just like his sons weren't ordinary Army brats, he wasn't your average officer as far as Lauren could tell. He shook his head, a smile still on his face. "Consider it a sign of respect or – or camaraderie, I guess. Like 'Doc', but a hell of a lot cooler. Means you've done your job right, made an impression."

That was one way to look at it. Lauren didn't know what to say, and thankfully she didn't have to as he went on to add, "But anyways, you'll be joining them in the field, on the second team. It'll just be the four of you, Riley included. You'll be going down to San Diego and once you're there you'll regroup with the first team."

"Right. Pretty far down then, huh?" Lauren spoke mostly to herself, her voice raised slightly in pitch from her nerves. She forced herself not to waver or stumble over her words. "Sounds like it'll be a lot of fun."

"Bit of an understatement, actually," Walker said with a slight scoff. He paused, then continued. "If you don't feel up to the task then I'm willing to pull you off. It'll save everyone a lot of trouble if you back out now. No judgment, no criticism. I'll completely understand. There's a big chance it's not gonna be pretty. The last thing we need is for you to lose your head while you're out there and break down."

"Well, it's what I signed up for," Lauren said, taking a deep breath before she spoke again. "I knew I'd be in harm's way, it's no big deal. I'll make it work. It's not like it's all that safer around here anyways."

It was true, too. She'd seen people lose limbs practically on the front doorstep. She'd dug bullets out and cut into people and handled severe blood loss, be it from explosions or something all the way down to a mishap with a vehicle or aircraft. No matter how safe anyone thought they were, the truth was they weren't. Especially not with an enemy in your backyard trying to kill you practically every day. She wasn't a stranger to blood and guts and death. Major Walker seemed to understand that. He stared her down for a while, as if he was testing to see if she'd buckle and relent, but she didn't. He nodded again. "Good. That's what I was hoping you would say," he said. "That's about it. You're free to go, take care of anything you need to. Just don't get too comfortable. Any questions?"

Lauren paused. She did have a few questions. But the most important one, "Is there…I dunno, a reason that you picked me? There are better medics than me out there." She swallowed. "I'll do whatever you want me to, I'm just a bit confused about why I stood out. Other than just working with your sons, I guess."

Walker shrugged. "My boys' judgment of people is usually pretty good. I trust them," he explained simply. "But beyond that, your record speaks for itself. I told you, I think you've got promise. That and the fact you're willing to go at all, no complaints. You're a go-getter, I like that."

"Not sure I'd put it that way," Lauren replied with a nervous laugh. The look on his face and in his eyes made her wonder if there was more that he wasn't telling her. But she guessed he wouldn't tell her if there was. Pressing probably wouldn't get her anywhere, and she didn't even know where to start with him anyway. It wasn't like she knew him well. "That's really all I wanted to know. Thank you, though, I appreciate it, sir."

"Anything else?" Walker asked.

"No, sir," Lauren replied, still forgetting that he'd told her not to bother with the 'sir' thing.

"Alright. In that case, I'll see you in a few hours," Walker replied with a nod. He dismissed her once again, and she gave him a quick salute before she took her leave.

Although she wasn't in trouble, she couldn't help but have her guard up. Not only was she about to go into No Man's Land, but she'd never been outside of what used to be the city limits of L.A., and on top of that she was a lot more critical of her abilities than Major Walker appeared to be. She just did her job and what she was told. She hardly thought it was all that impressive, but she wasn't about to question him. She also didn't want to question Lieutenant or Sergeant Walker. Even though they hadn't personally recommended her, they at least must have thought she was competent to mention them not only in their mission reports but also to their father at all. She wouldn't question any of them, but that didn't mean that she felt any less nervous.

So Lauren returned to the clinic to complete her rounds there before she prepped for the mission without any complaint. She knew about a million ways things could go wrong outside the wall, not a stranger to the risks in any way, but as long as she did everything right she was sure she could get everyone back in one piece. Or at least mostly in one piece. With both of the Walker boys in the field with her, she wasn't too worried. The two of them had a knack for getting themselves hurt, but somehow they always bounced back. And usually managed to keep the rest of the squad from the same injuries.

Whatever happened, she figured it couldn't be too bad. Not any worse than what they'd all already been through. Better not to jinx it, though, she decided.


1230.

"Once you've gathered what intel you can, you'll rendezvous with Task Force STALKER in this sector and make your way back home from there."

Logan watched as his father tapped through the 3D map created from the satellite imagery, setting up digital markers on various points to indicate suspected enemy posts and checkpoints, as well as the location of the team from STALKER along with the group that made up their smaller team. His father had told them that Hawkeye would be going with them, which surprised him. It had surprised Hesh, too. But he probably had a reason. Logan knew first-aid, so did Hesh, but if he had to dig a bullet out of his brother or do anything more than the most baseline treatment then he was pretty sure they'd both be screwed. So that had brought their team up from two and a dog to three and a dog. One of which was a combat medic. It wasn't a coincidence that their odds of survival if everything went south went up significantly that way.

Overall, the mission seemed straightforward. What made it dangerous was the fact that it was well outside of the range of any reinforcements. They'd only have each other. Not that that wasn't what it felt like most of the time. Logan studied both his father and brother's body language more than he listened to the briefing. Both of them were fidgety, much like he was that morning, and every so often Hesh would glance his way. They were still uneasy. Logan and Hesh's conversation in the car the night before hadn't done anything to ease the other's worries, not that he really expected it to, but it did make it harder for Logan to pick up on his brother's anxiety. There were a few things he still noticed, though. Hesh and his father hadn't slept well. Their posture was especially stiff, like they had to make an effort to keep upright. Logan hadn't slept well either, but he wasn't worried about himself. About the only living thing in that room that actually got a healthy amount of sleep was Riley. They could operate on only a few minutes of sleep, it didn't make it ideal.

He decided that when they inevitably stopped, he'd take the first watch. Hesh wouldn't like it, but they could fight about it later.

"Communications'll be spotty, so be careful and be resourceful. Don't take any risks you aren't sure are worth it. Your main contact in the field will be with Stalker," his father finished, lowering the tablet in his hands. He looked around at the three of them. "I'm sure you know it won't be easy, but we need everything we can get if we want a chance at pushing the Federation back once and for all. It's gonna take some time, but this is a necessary step in the right direction." He paused and let out a short sigh. His expression was serious. "You head out as soon as you're geared up. You'll be dropped outside of the city limits to shave off a little time, then you'll hike your way down from there. Any questions?"

The three of them all voiced off a chorus of 'no, sir' and he nodded. He set the tablet down and clapped his hands together. "Alright, then, get a move on. Dismissed."

The screech of metal chairs against wooden floors filled the air. Riley jumped to his feet as soon as they moved, one ear flicked back indignantly in response to the sound. All it took was Hesh brushing his fingers across the tip of said ear to prompt him to follow him as he and Hawkeye went ahead and left. Logan hung back, glancing over at where their father had already turned to busy himself with the screens and desks in front of him. When Hesh noticed Logan didn't follow right away, he paused. "Hey, Logan, you comin'?"

"I'll be right out, gimme a minute," Logan replied. Hesh studied his expression for a moment, then Logan noticed his eyes flick towards their dad's back, and then he gave a slight nod before he continued on his way out. He'd already had a private moment with their dad before the briefing. Logan had given them space to talk. But it was his turn to say goodbye. He approached as silently as he always did, taking up a space beside his father to attempt to see over his shoulder and make some sense of what he was looking at.

It was his father that broke the silence, not even having to look over at him. "Everything alright over there, Logan?" he asked him. Logan nodded even though his father couldn't see. The old man glanced over at him from the corner of his eye, then gave a slight nod of his own. "So, what's up?"

"You and Hesh didn't get a lot of sleep," Logan said simply. He didn't know what else to say, and he wasn't raised to beat around the bush. "I can tell you're both worried. You especially. And Hesh and I both can tell that something's been bugging you since you told us about this op yesterday." There was a pause. He watched his father's shoulders as they tensed and he decided to press. "What aren't you telling us?"

His father was quiet for a moment before he sighed. "Nothing that would hurt you not to know," he said as he turned to face Logan. "There are some things I wanna make sure you're ready to know."

"If it won't hurt us not to know then why hide it?" Logan asked him, tilting his head slightly to the side. He wasn't annoyed. More curious than anything. Curious and concerned. He felt those two things a lot. "And it's obviously got you worried."

"It's all…stupidly complicated. But that isn't what's got me worried," his father said. His expression shifted. He looked mildly annoyed, then guilty, then he buried both of those things and gave Logan his best reassuring smile. One that Logan felt like he saw a lot. Then again, a lot of crappy things had happened throughout their lives. Sometimes you needed a bit of reassurance. Even if it didn't really last. "You're just gonna have to trust me, son."

"I do trust you." Logan's reply was quiet, but not any less true. He trusted his family unconditionally. Whatever his father was hiding, he trusted he had his reasons. Even if he was curious and wanted to know the reasons his father was worried, how it was connected to the operation or even what 'things' that he and Hesh weren't ready to know. But he didn't have a lot of time, and he knew it would take hours of arm twisting to get anything solid to work off of. He was great at prying when he really needed to, just like his father was great at resisting interrogation. No matter what form it took. Logan trusted him willingly. If they needed to know something, he would have told them. He accepted that. "I'm just worried about you."

"Don't be. You've gotta stay sharp in the field. Don't get wrapped up in your head or get your thoughts clouded worrying about me," his father said, letting out a slightly amused sounding huff. He stepped forward and pulled Logan into a tight but brief hug, patting him on the back as he did. When they pulled away he gently smacked his shoulder. "Now, go on, you're burning daylight. Get outta here before Hesh comes and drags you out."

"Yes, sir," Logan said with a small smile of his own before he turned away and headed for the door.

"Remember what I taught you both," his father called after him, and Logan spun to walk backwards so he could see his father as he spoke. "Look out for each other out there. Watch your teammates' backs. You four are only gonna have each other out there for a while." He condensed the many lessons he'd taught Logan and Hesh into a few words, but Logan understood. The two brothers never forgot anything he'd taught them. They never would. "I'll see you boys in a few days."

Logan gave a slight nod as he turned his back to his father once again. "Take care of yourself until we get back," he said, the reminder about as stern as he would ever get with his father. "You're not gonna have us around to keep you in check."

He heard his father laugh and mutter something about how he'd try, and Logan didn't have a choice but to settle for it. The nagging feeling and pit in his stomach settled slightly. Their odds were okay. They'd go out, they'd come back, safe and sound. And their father would be waiting for them and their stories out on their own, in the field, just like he did when they were kids and they had wanted to take on one of their camping trips without him. Normally he was with them, but there were a few exceptions. He knew they'd come back and they knew he'd be there when they did. It was as simple as that. Logan's only concern was the fact that nothing about life had been simple in well over ten years. He clung to that sort of hope, but he knew if he voiced it aloud he'd sound childish.

It was the only thing that made it easy for him to walk away, though. So he'd take what he could get.


2200.
No Man's Land, California, United States.

Sergeant Keegan P. Russ settled into the underbrush, quietly propping his rifle against the ground as he tightened his grip around it. Through the night vision scope he was able to pick out the figures of the Federation soldiers as they moved about, oblivious to the fact that two ghosts had trailed them for nearly twenty-four hours straight. He could have sat idle, that had been the plan, but the Feds picked up their pace. Merrick gave them the all clear to keep moving. They couldn't let them out of their sight. Even if he had been ordered to stay put, he probably wouldn't have followed it anyway. Merrick and Kick would catch up eventually. They'd be fine. There was a chance that Ajax wouldn't.

The only sound that Keegan emitted was the light, faint rustle of his uniform as he adjusted his position. To him it sounded deafening. He was hyper aware of everything, from the scraping of fabric against brush all the way down to his breathing and heart rate. He took slow breaths. Shallow. Still. He could feel his heart, though. He was nervous. He'd been on edge since Ajax had been taken. He had always been a nervous person, he was just good at keeping others from knowing that. That day, though, he was sure that anyone could see through his mask if they looked hard enough.

He didn't like their current situation. How they had managed to slip through seemingly undetected, only to walk into an ambush somehow, all the while their guards had been up and they were on almost equal footing with the Federation. Not in numbers, but in terms of experience and familiarity. And yet just like that, things had gotten out of their control. Ajax vanished. He was there one second, gone the next. Keegan had been right beside him. He should have noticed something was off. He shouldn't have lost sight of him. Losing Grim and Torch had been one thing. It had hurt. It still hurt each and every one of them. But to Keegan, Ajax was the closest thing to a brother he'd ever had in his life, and his absence had become an overwhelming, hollow feeling in a matter of hours. Keegan couldn't shake it if he had tried.

A part of him wondered if he could take out the entire patrol. A few shots. They'd never see him. Never know he was there. Maybe he could pick off a few at the edge, then get close and work his way through their numbers with his knife. Whittle them down one by one the way they'd done to them. Different strategies played out in his head while he scanned the patrol of trucks and soldiers on the road below where he was perched, in an almost desperate search of confirmation that this was in fact the team that had Ajax in their custody. It was the only one they'd found. If Kick hadn't been able to find another group, then there wasn't one. It had to be it. He couldn't see anything, though. If they had him, they had done well to keep him out of sight. Because if Keegan knew for a fact they did he would have found a way to drop every last one of them where they stood.

They opened one of the trucks, and Keegan moved his finger around the trigger. His muscles instinctively tensed. He tracked the soldier that opened the door, watched as he reached inside to pull something out. He was ready. He just had to see Ajax. Instead, though, the soldier produced a camouflaged pack that matched his uniform, and he dug through it to find a canteen full of something that Keegan had a sneaking suspicion wasn't water as he offered it to the Federation soldiers around him. They laughed. Keegan didn't hear what had been said. He wouldn't have cared anyways. He heard himself let out a frustrated sigh, the first audible breath he'd taken in hours.

"Keegan, how're you doing out there?"

A familiar voice cut through the silence, the choppiness through the radio making the abrupt disturbance almost grating. It wasn't enough to startle him. The voice belonged to Wilson. Dubbed 'Nike' not long after she'd joined them, both from her first name and after some goddess of victory. Greek, if he remembered correctly, just like Ajax's namesake. It was pronounced 'ni-ki', like 'Nicky' but with a shorter sound. 'Knee-kay' if you couldn't handle that. 'Nigh-key' was only used if you had a death wish. A lot of times, though, Keegan just called her Wilson or – if he was in a good enough mood and Kick hadn't been enough of an ass to earn it that particular day – 'Chair Force'. He meant it in good humor, even if it was hard to tell. He didn't consider her a nuisance. That was about the best he could offer anybody.

Her voice cut through again, hushed and concerned. "Keegan?" she prompted.

"On top of the world," Keegan replied flatly a moment later, pressing his index and middle finger to the side of the headset he wore. His deadpan tone gave away his lack of energy. "Everything's quiet."

"No visual on Ajax yet?" Wilson asked him.

"Negative. Nothing." Keegan felt himself clench his jaw. He took a deep, slow breath. The smell of moist dirt and leaves filled his lungs and drowned out the faint smell of tobacco that happened to drift up to him, which he was grateful for. He pulled back from the scope and dipped his head slightly. He watched their silhouettes move about instead. "If they've got him, ain't no way in hell they're gonna let us know that. They're too smart for that."

"Guess you're right. The problem then is that without any way of knowing if they have him there's no way we can do anything about it," Wilson said quickly, her own aggravation audible in her voice. He left her to continue whatever she had to say. "We could just be following them straight into a trap. If not that, then falling for a clever diversion. We're not gonna know until we get to San Diego." He heard her let out a frustrated huff through the radio. "It doesn't feel like we're doing any better than we were the last time."

"Just stay focused," Keegan replied. He wasn't one for inspirational speeches, really. It wasn't his forte. But he wasn't in the mood to listen to much 'realism' that day, however much he knew that she had a very good point. They weren't much better off than they were when Torch went missing. Or Grim. He just wasn't ready to admit it yet. He swiftly changed the topic. "Any word on Merrick and Kick?"

"A few kilometers out last time I checked, they should be here any minute," Wilson replied. She paused, and Keegan guessed she had more to say. Apparently, he was right. "Merrick said we're going to have to regroup and reassess. If we can't ID Ajax by the time we hit San Diego, we may have to backtrack. Or at least stay put until Scarecrow's boys get there."

"Right." Keegan kept his voice hushed and his replies short.

"The point is…" Wilson went on carefully. He could tell she wasn't quite sure how to approach this. She spoke to him the way someone spoke to an animal they were afraid was going to lash out at them. Delicate, gentle, friendly…but in an incredibly nervous and uncertain sort of way. It might have been touching. If he actually wanted and needed her to be so particular with how she spoke to him. "...I know you don't exactly like it, but we may have to put the rescue half of the mission to the side. You know, focus on the recon part of it."

"Recon part's what I'm doing now," Keegan responded simply as he peered through his scope once again. He picked up the enemy movement once again. Still no sign of anything that gave away Ajax's presence. And the Feds looked as though they were getting ready to move again. Just great. The rain from earlier in the day picked up, the sudden onslaught pattering down loudly around him. Through the sound, he could hear shouts in Spanish and car doors slamming shut while engines revved. His search quickened. He looked for anything. A mask, blood, any sign these soldiers had been in a fight. Dings in a door or helmet. Something. He found nothing. "Dammit."

"Shit." Wilson added in her own frustrated swear. "They're packing up again."

"No shit," Keegan couldn't help but snap. The silence on the other side only made him feel somewhat guilty under the circumstances they were faced with. As he watched the vehicles start to rumble away, out of range and out of view, he felt his frustration reach a fever pitch in his chest and lungs. His face started to burn and his pulse rushed. He kept a hold on his rifle as he dropped his head. He ignored the way the muscles in his neck strained.

"Keegan, you there?" Merrick's voice cut in as the sounds of the trucks and shouting became faint. It was garbled. He must have only just gotten into range. Connection in No Man's Land was spotty, and the range could vary from a few feet to several miles, it all depended on the day. During their wet season, which they were stuck in, sometimes they were lucky they could get it working at all.

"Lost visual," Keegan replied, not giving any indication of what he was thinking or feeling. He pushed himself up from the dirt, rifle in tow, and started his march back. Although his steps were heavy, they were silent. Practiced. Only the occasional thump if his boot landed on something he didn't expect. His strides were long and carried him at a decent pace. The shorter the walk, the less time he had to get too wrapped up in his own head. He was about halfway back to where he'd left Nike when he finally spoke again, relenting and admitting the one thing he'd refused to accept. He sighed. "I don't think they have Ajax."

"We don't know that for sure," Merrick said through the static. Keegan could hear his uneven breaths and the faint sound of something brushing the radio repeatedly. He and Kick must have picked up their running pace. They must have been close. Probably had tried to get there in time, maybe see about launching an assault with the four of them. That was how Merrick thought. He wasn't good at playing the long game. Not that Elias was much better, but he could tolerate the restlessness for longer. Unfortunately, Merrick missed his shot that night. "No body, no crime. Those bastards have got him somewhere."

"We can't bet on it being a trick either way," Kick put in. "We'd lose too much time and ground. That's what they want."

Keegan finally reached the spot where he left Wilson. She rose from the spot she was crouched in, her posture relaxing once she realized it was him. He said nothing to her or Merrick or Kick. As he turned to face the direction the Feds had gone in case someone split off and came looking for trouble, he could hear the brush and debris rustling slightly as Wilson took a few steps towards him. He was vaguely aware of her position without having to look for her. Then he felt her hand hesitantly placed on his shoulder. He tried to relax his posture, if only to get her to leave him alone. Another attempt at reassuring him came when she spoke. "If they've got him, we'll find him," she said, and he could tell she tried to keep her tone as light as possible. "Ajax is tough, he can hold out."

"Mmhmm." That was all Keegan managed in response. He didn't shrug her hand away, but he was only able to relax slightly. He wasn't ever bothered by her. She was an extremely physically affectionate person. Always had been. She'd been a part of the team for maybe eight or nine years, not long after ODIN rained down hell on them, and she'd progressed from high fives to shoulder touches to even hugging the members she had especially bonded with. Keegan was particular about being touched in any way. Always had been. She never hugged him, never tried to hug him, and in exchange for the respect of that unspoken boundary he allowed her the same courtesy he allowed his other teammates – a comforting hand on his shoulder or arm, maybe a clap on the back or a high five. Although he appreciated the gesture, he wasn't in a place where he could calm down.

He felt her move away and both of them settled into the silence as they waited for Merrick and Kick. While they waited, Keegan's thoughts drifted to the beaded chain around his neck. His dog tags, of course, but he'd attached a small silver cross to the same chain a while back. It had been a while since he prayed. He and Ajax had shared similar upbringings. Raised in the church. Unlike a lot of their peers neither of them had ever drifted too far from those beliefs, if anything the military had only made them stronger. That was how Ajax had managed to connect with him years prior, during Operation Sand Viper. Keegan had been scared, barely seventeen and terrified out of his mind. Ajax had noticed the cross he kept on him. A simple gesture such as an offer to pray with him had evolved into a twenty-two year long friendship that kept Keegan from going off the deep end more than once in his life. And in the course of one bad day he lost that friend.

Keegan wondered if it was his own fault. Guilt and anger built up in his throat. Had he been a less introspective and understanding man he might have shook his fist at the sky and demanded recompense, but he was more upset with himself. He hadn't done enough. If he had, Ajax would have been standing right beside him. They wouldn't have even been out there at that moment. He couldn't focus entirely on Ajax's absence or on getting him back, not when he had other brothers-in-arms he cared about right beside him. Their lives were all on the line just like Ajax's was. He had to look out for them and make sure the mission went smoothly, whatever said mission turned into by the time they were done.

Although exhausted, both Merrick and Kick were ready to keep moving once they regrouped with Keegan and Wilson. The four of them set off after the Federation soldiers. Off to figure out why they were being hunted in the first place, and hopefully find Ajax in time. As they ran, Keegan freed one hand from his grip on his rifle and pressed a fist to his chest, where the dog tags and cross rested beneath the layers of his uniform and gear. He muttered out a silent prayer, the first he'd said in months after he'd found excuses to keep slipping up. It grounded him, he realized. His focus started to return. His anger ebbed away. Although not a prayer, the last thought he allowed to linger on Ajax was a simple one.

Hang in there, brother. We'll get you outta there.