Ian wasn't sure how to feel about the course of his current conversation. As he expected, Helian's little black ops team relied on a secure audio only connection to communicate. It sent him back to the good old days, in a way that Ian could say he entirely felt comfortable with. "She is perfectly safe." The woman on the other end sounded quite amused, more than she had the entire talk. "Don't worry, Commander, my paycheck relies on her being unharmed."

"That is fine." He couldn't help but share in some of the amusement. Putting the mentality into a mercenary unit would produce the sort of situation he found himself in. "I find it helps to be on the same page as to terms before continuing." Especially when dealing with people who suffered fewer legal consequences. Fortunately, they had similar motives. "I've been given a lengthy rundown of hostile forces in the field, but no command unit is noted. Have you identified a Sangvis Ringleader?"

"Nope." He got the impression she shrugged, or at least rolled her eyes. "We've seen nothing to suggest a Ringleader is present."

Yet being the unsaid keyword, and from her tone, she didn't think it'd be long. "Understood." Before long, that Ringleader would crawl out of the woodwork, and they would have to adjust on the fly. "How long are you planning to hang about?"

"Why, Commander, just what are you implying?" He could just imagine the smug amusement on her face.

"That you would rather as few people know about you as possible." While she couldn't see it, he shrugged in turn, deciding to go in on things just a bit. "Helian described you as a black ops unit, which means some very particular things to me, including the idea that you want to keep your existence under the radar as much as possible."

The giggle felt completely out of place, coming from someone like that. "You're a sharp one,Commander." Returning to seriousness, she went on. "Once your people have a handle on things, we'll slip away before anything bad can happen."

That worked fine for Ian, although he could see a few issues. "Any location I should keep my people out of? And plans to handle any potential Sangvis heavies?"

"Don't worry about keeping your Dolls out of the way." He could imagine her waving a hand dramatically. "We'll be long gone before anyone arrives on location, and I imagine that they will be quite busy focusing on handling you, won't they?"

"You never know, they might decide to guard the back doors."

"You might fool a girl into thinking you care, Commander."

"It tends to be bad form to let my allies get killed on my watch. Cleaning up a reputation is a surprisingly messy business after all." He could enjoy this banter, surprisingly enough.

"I don't think letting little old me die is going to hurt you more than you've hurt yourself. After all, don't your Dolls already think you'll throw them away?" His lips thinned, and it took some effort to avoid lashing out at that jab.

"I'd like to think we're working through that problem. I see I will need to solve some security problems however."

"You can try." From the playful tone it seemed this banter was her idea of fun. "Don't worry about us, Commander, one combat specialist is all I need." In the background someone snarled something. "Isn't that what you always tell me?" Ian cocked his head, content to listen. The verbal scuffle continued, now more muffled, as the Doll put her attention on other matters. A moment later, the signal crackled, her attention back on him. "Where were we, Commander?"

Ian shook his head, taking a few seconds to decide just how to steer the conversation. Resuming the verbal duel might be amusing but he needed to get to the command room and make sure his own troops didn't kill each other. "Clearing you a corridor to slip away."

"Not a problem." There was a very audible sound of a weapon being chambered. "Anything Sangvis throws at us, we can fight our way through."

"I see." While Ian didn't like it, he'd have to trust her judgment on that matter for now. "While my people are aware there is a special ops group in the area, they aren't aware of your identity. Do I need to be concerned about the VIP spilling any secrets?"

"Where did all that concern and camaraderie go, Commander?" Her teasing words and matching tone might have made Ian feel bad, but this person seemed to set Helian on edge more than he did, so that undercut any potential sympathy he might have felt. "Might just make a girl think you don't trust her."

"Guy might find it hard to trust a mercenary with no record, and an implied penchant for wet work and minimal scruples." There seemed to be a pattern to this trading of barbs, hidden meanings, and innuendos. A comfortable return to form, his fingers already beating a familiar pattern against the desk.

"Such harsh words, Commander." Again, they only seemed to be amusing this woman. "Fortunately for you, M16 and I are old friends, and she knows how to keep her mouth shut." Some deep-seated instinct screamed that was a lie, but Ian knew better than to call her on it.

"Understood." Running a finger over the map, Ian considered. Sending a single team around to pick up the target and flee before the Ringleader arrived made the most sense. "I will have a team pick her up from the east entrance of the building you are holed up in. Should minimize contact risk."

"Fine." Her voice took on a calculating edge. "You are too kind, Commander."

"I try." The conversation seemed to be drawing to a close, but he needed one more bit of information. "A pleasure to work with you Miss...?"

"So bold, Commander." Immediately back to teasing.

Ian snorted, shaking his head. "Just common courtesy. You already know who I am, and I prefer to put names to voices."

"I suppose it is only fair." In the background someone said something. "You can call me 45, Commander."

"Then a pleasure working with you, Miss 45." When he got around to researching that would narrow down the list of suspects considerably. For the moment it just made referring to the mercenary easier. "Fireworks will begin shortly."

-Faded Glory-

M16 cast a sidelong glare in the general direction of UMP45. She didn't need 404 playing babysitter, even less in a situation like this. With Sangvis closing in, the last thing they needed was someone running off and being hard headed. Seemingly immune to M16's glare, 45 remained deep in conversation, while 416 stormed away from her, now keeping watch from the windows. UMP9 and G11 were in a different corner doin whatever it was UMP9 did, while G11 tried to sleep.

"Well!" 45 spun on her heel, clapping her hands in faux delight, conversation obviously over. M16 didn't like the devious smirk spreading across her face, or the forced relaxation in her posture. "I think that went well."

"Is there a reason you're so happy when we still have a horde of murder bots standing outside just waiting for the cue to run in? M16 stood, craning her neck to get a good view out the window. "Me and her," M16 paused for 416 to object, "Are good, but she isn't that good."

"Do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?" 416 grumbled, pulling away from her position by the window. M16 waved her off. "While I don't like it, she has a point. Fighting that horde would get us all killed."

45's eyes darkened ever so slightly, and M16 found herself shifting her stance, fingers tightening around her weapon. She didn't doubt her ability to beat any one of them in a fight, but if the entire group ganged up on her, M16 felt slightly less confident. Of course, they were all on the same side, at least for the moment. "I thought you'd be happy to know that Griffin has dispatched a Commander to rescue you. And he's bringing along your sisters."

On one hand, that was a colossal relief, knowing that her siblings made it to safety. On the other, knowing they were coming to this mess, even with the help of a Griffin Commander did not inspire confidence. There was a small army between any insertion point and M16 and she doubted that Griffin had enough firepower to blast through quick enough. "That's awful nice of them."

"Please tell me we're leaving her here." 416 growled. "I'm sick and tired of listening to her moan."

"I'm afraid the Commander has rather politely asked if we could defend this point for a little while longer, and it seemed only polite to agree." 45 seemed to delight in 416 gnashing her teeth. "Apparently, this is quite out of the way and interrupted a day off besides. Our paycheck relies on that one being alive and well, so sticking around to give him information and assistance helps everyone."

M16 didn't buy that act for a second. Something else was in the works, she could tell, the only question being, exactly what. There might have been a bit of truth to the ending bit, but M16 didn't trust UMP45 to comply with a request, polite or otherwise. "I'm guessing you've got more information than that. You're not going to stick your neck out for just any old Griffin officer."

The picture of innocent confusion 45 cocked her head to the side. The image didn't work, and M16 caught 416 echoing her own deadpan stare, something 45 caught on to right away. "Aww, you two can get along."

The two of them traded a sharp look. "Just because I don't like her doesn't mean she isn't right." A definite edge crept into 416's tone. "Now, why are we risking our necks?"

45's mercurial smile only increased the worry settling in M16's chest. "I can't be afflicted with a bout of generosity?"

"No." Shaking her head, M16 made no effort to hide her disbelief.

"Unlikely." Echoed the sentiment.

"I mean, maybe?" UMP9 threw in from the back. "It is weird."

45 threw up her hands, perfectly dramatic, and perfectly unconvincing. "You think so little of me." 416 took a step forward, doing a surprisingly good job of being menacing, and 45 returned to her more normal self, albeit with a bit of a giggle thrown in. "I am allowed to find people interesting."

"Last time you found someone interesting, the week ended with a knife in his guts, and Seir bitching for another week that cleaning blood out of our coats was a pain." 416 snapped, and M16 swallowed a demand for a detailed explanation.

"That one was interesting to Seir, not interesting to me." 45 waved the concern aside.

416 didn't seem inclined to let it go. "Considering Seir's complaints, I don't believe that for a second. What's your angle, 45?"

M16 could see the attempted deflection coming. "Don't even try it. Everyone here knows you never do anything with an angle."

"Here I thought we were friends, M16." Continued disbelief finally cracked 45's attempts being coy. "This Commander seems to be more open minded, that's all."

Before they could object further 45 spun, slipping away, leaving 416 and M16 staring at one another, trying to decide if the brief alliance achieved anything at all.

-Faded Glory-

"Good news, target has protection." The Commander's hologram wobbled, then recentered itself over KSG's palm. "Bad news, Sangvis has apparently taken note of the failure of other units and decided to double down on this mission. "Team on location is reporting multiple company sized units in the field, and more trickling in, which is backed up by preliminary drone footage."

"I'm waiting for the good news, Commander." Groza's dry tone drew a few cautious laughs from the group.

"The good news is they are completely ignoring us." The Echelon leaders traded significant looks, all of them realizing how little sense that made. "Despite us being highly unsubtle, yes."

"I knew they weren't smart but that's almost impressively dumb." KSG rolled her shoulders, taking a few seconds to process this new development. "Information on the one in charge?"

"Negative. Group with the VIP doesn't have a visual on a Ringleader." The Commander checked something. "Not much information in the database to suggest who we might be dealing with, so in that regard everyone is equally blind."

"Whoever they are, they are either overconfident or idiots, if they are ignoring us completely." FAL shook her head. "I don't think I like either choice."

"Idiots are easier to handle than over confidence in my experience." Groza glanced in KSG's direction, obviously searching for her opinion. KSG could only shrug, as in her experience both were a problem, it was simply a matter of how you wanted to suffer.

"Be that as it may." The Commander took over the conversation again, starting on the rundown of the forces he could see arrayed against them.

As the impromptu briefing wound down, KSG found herself watching the others scramble about in preparation. Those sorts of problems were what she kept Alfa around for, and she had bigger problems to consider. Such as why the hell the enemy seemed content to ignore a force massing against them.

"KSG." Speaking directly in her ear the Commander's voice came off as more direct than usual. All of the undertones and implications that clung to his words vanished, creating a surprising dissonance as KSG's neural cloud raced to keep up with the change. "You are okay with this arrangement?"

It took KSG a few seconds to parse just what he meant. Outside of when the other two put the question to her, KSG didn't give it much consideration. Being stuck in the middle of the leadership and the rank and file came as naturally as breathing at this point in her career so taking that position again felt entirely natural. "I suppose."

If the sudden question didn't give away that there was some other motive to this chat, the frustrated grunt did. "It seems a bit strange you turned down getting shuffled into a command role in the Corp, leave, and end right back in one a decade later with Griffin."

That felt like information he shouldn't have had, but also something that KSG suspected the Commander might have had friends in a position to learn. "There is a bit of a difference between this lot and a bunch of fresh-faced Marine recruits." KSG checked her weapon, standing and moving in the direction of her own team at last. "This lot is willing to listen to me, I'm not so sure a bunch of wet behind the ears hotshots fresh outta boot would feel charitable enough to take orders from a twiggy little Doll who happens to be their lieutenant."

Again, the Commander scoffed. "Considering that every sergeant in your platoon would have put the fear of god in them, or you could have just followed Meadows up as the senior NCO in the unit, I don't buy that idea for a second." Hackles rising, KSG stopped in her tracks.

"Is there a reason you went digging through my records?" Her voice dropped, cold even to her own ears.

"I dug through everyone's records." The tone implied he expected this revelation to make it better, which only increased KSG's rising ire. "As an American expat on this side of the line, call me curious how a couple others ended up here, including a goddamn Marine."

Keeping her tone level proved surprisingly tricky. While in principle KSG didn't care that much if he wanted to know more about her past, just digging through things without even a passing request rubbed her wrong. "Merely an alignment of circumstances."

"Right, circumstances." Dry, unamused, nearly a return to his usual self, but there was more to it than that. "Just like how 'circumstances' aligned such that when Ak-Alfa had spare time, a Griffin recruiter was there, and she got a message from an old war buddy? Or MG4?"

"Get to the point, Commander." KSG's patience with his words games finally ran out.

"I don't have an issue with formalizing the ad hoc arrangement you three came to, but if I'm making someone my functional second in command around here, I want to know why and how they tick. And KSG, your actions and reasoning don't line up from what I can see."

She heaved a sigh. "Suddenly, FAL and Groza's opinions of you make far more sense."

Fortunately, that proved to merely amuse him. KSG made a mental note to figure out exactly why the man took being hated in stride, as that didn't seem right. "I wasn't in the infantry for a reason."

"That isn't what I meant." KSG gave in to the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration. "You're a slippery bastard, Commander. You talk in layers, casually admit to digging through people's pasts, and seem very good at deducing things that you've never been told. Every former soldier agrees that you're shifty, and not in the 'oh yes, I'm Special Forces' sort of shifty, but a deeply unsettling sort of shifty."

"And yet?" Despite her words, he seemed to be holding in a laugh.

"And yet, you make accurate assessments. You apply your ill-gotten knowledge to protect everyone and move them into positions they want. You have shown a willingness to take a hit in perception and reputation if either improves how we see you or prevents us from landing in trouble." KSG shook her head. There didn't seem to be any value of continuing this line of questioning. She would focus on more thorny matters of the current situation. "The team with our VIP. They're some sort of hush-hush unit?"

"It is hard to answer a question when I don't have all the information." KSG felt her lips twitch. She'd heard that one before, from her former superiors, but perhaps that was the point. He knew what she knew, after all.

"As I said sir. Talk in circles. Just like, if I ask what branch you served with, you'll give me some shit about being a Green Beret in North Africa." He didn't say a word, so KSG took a chance and forged ahead. "I find that interesting, Commander. There was plenty of chatter about who was deployed where, and when, and not once did anyone claim or did a report indicate that there was an American unit in North Africa. Italians, a few Frenchmen, locals of course, but they funneled us into Europe itself, to try and stem the tide."

For a long while, he was silent, and KSG wondered if perhaps she'd pushed too far. Eventually, the reply came, slow, and measured. "Official reports can be wrong, KSG."

"They can." It felt best to accept the mild chastisement and leave it. The man would yield nothing else, and if KSG kept pushing she'd end up in trouble. Another laugh filled her ears, before the Commander sobered.

"If you want out, say the word, KSG. I won't ask questions."

She sighed, shaking her head. Somehow, the man could be both incredibly dense, and incredibly smart at the same time. "Did you give every NCO this much shit?"

A derisive snort provided a better answer than his words, but they were added on anyway. "Only the ones I liked."

"Small wonder they donated you to Special Forces." To the side she could see Alfa giving her a look, questioning. KSG shook her head, and Alfa scowled but held her tongue. "Is there a point to this, Commander?"

"Making sure that you are, in fact, on board with this idea, and not just doing it before you think that you're the best fit even if you hate the idea." Even if KSG knew the man had a point, and that she would do that, part of her rankled at the accusation. "Of the four of you, I would pick you to be my help, in a vacuum." There were layers, and complexities to the politics and personalities that went into those words, and ones that KSG didn't want to address. "But I'm not going to foist something upon you that you don't want."

KSG debated how best to answer. There was the way she'd have answered Meadows, all those years ago, profane, direct, and effective. There was the correct answer, clean and without any character to it. There was the casual answer, which might have sufficed. "For the record, Commander, you are still a slippery bastard."

He laughed. "I prefer to think that I'm a consistent bastard, but I'll take that too."

KSG's entire squad stared as she laughed. "Just making sure the Commander and I agree on what kind of bastard he is."

-Faded Glory-

"Come on, you must have some opinion about all this?" MG4 did in fact have plenty of opinions. One of them being that, in this moment, Honey Badger talked too much, thought too little, and MG4 herself didn't have time for any of it. "Excited? Bored? There's got to be something in there? You aren't completely emotionless MG4, I know it."

"Please stop." This was probably why KSG did this, MG4 realized. In that moment Alfa would have resorted to basic violence, SRS a well-meaning lecture, and KSG, well MG4 didn't quite know what KSG might have done. She'd seen KSG's incredible patience firsthand, but even that had some limits and continual bothering, by someone as actually frustrating as Honey Badger might just have made her snap.

It wouldn't last for long, MG4 could see the emotions working through the other Doll at a slow but deliberate pace. "Oh, come on! You can't be sitting here telling me that this doesn't excite you?"

"I feel plenty." MG4 sighed. Even her patience was starting to wear out, and she couldn't be bothered to listen to Honey Badger's insane fascination with being shot at any longer. "Honey Badger, do you think my patience is infinite?" The other Doll shrugged. "It isn't. And right now, you are rapidly running out of the little bit of patience I have left."

"Huh?"

Well, it was an attempt. MG4 cursed her Echelon leader's small bit of scheming, making her the one to explain all this. Being the most mellow of the bunch didn't mean she didn't have baggage attached. Or perhaps there was a small bit of viciousness in KSG that wanted Honey Badger to know that. "Do you know why KSG, Alfa, and I get so frustrated with your daredevil act?"

"Cause you're boring, hate fun, and think I'll get hurt." Honey Badger shrugged, eyes elsewhere. Whether she meant it or not the casual dismissal did not help her case.

MG4's fingers tightened around the grip of her weapon, hard enough the material creaked ominously. "Because all three of us have watched people exactly like you, charge headlong into something stupid, and die." Keeping her voice level was surprisingly tricky, but MG4 managed. Honey Badger's eyes widened just a bit at the blunt statement. "Just because we're more durable, more agile, or think faster doesn't mean someone can't get lucky." Reaching out, she tapped the other Doll on the chest, putting enough force in for it to hurt. "One lucky shot is all it takes, and you're gone. This isn't some thrilling stunt with guard rails and safety measures just out of sight. If you lose your legs in an IED blast, you better hope we can find your corpse to dig your core out. Or that your core even survives."

"I-" Honey Badger spluttered, before finding her verbal footing and drawing herself up. It might have been more intimidating if MG4 cared about her ire. Instead, the last threads of her tolerance gave way, a very different face dancing in her mind's eye. Younger, but just as full of life, and just foolish.

"If the next words out of your mouth are, 'I only got hit in the shoulder by a Ringleader, what threat do those stupid robots out there pose' I personally demonstrate the threat." MG4 hissed. Honey Badger froze, and MG4 took a deep steadying breath. Honey Badger was not the man in her memory. "Last person who said something like that, walked around a corner and took a 30mm round to the head. I spent the next three days wearing his brain."

Honey Badger twitched, jaw working in surprise, and disbelief. MG4 returned to watching the hillsides, content to let that sink in. "Wh-What?"

"This cocky Private from Belgium. Said that we were only fighting a bunch of stupid commie robots, walked around a corner took a 30mm round to the head." MG4 repeated. "Apparently didn't consider the fact that a 'stupid robot' can react faster than he can think." Sangvis continued to mill below, not seeming concerned with the Griffon dolls taking positions behind them. "You might be faster than they are, have better gear but it takes one lucky shot to kill you." Unfortunately, her current body didn't have the scars to prove that point, but MG4 felt reasonably sure she could come up with something.

"Sure sure." Honey Badger waved her words aside, and MG4 tensed. "I'm not those people."

"No, you aren't." Moving a bit along the ridge, MG4 hummed, nodding as she picked her spot. Good enough cover, and a wide field of fire. "You're all young and stupid. They at least had training."

"Hey!" MG4 glared, doing her best to put her full ire into the expression. Not for the first time she cursed her own lack of expressiveness. "You could give me more to go on than 'this one kid died once' and 'trust me' you know." Apparently, she didn't glare hard enough.

Then again, MG4 could almost accept that Honey Badger had a point. Being told to 'trust me' tended to piss off soldiers so it stood to reason that it'd annoy civilians. A brief effort opened a mental line to KSG.

"MG4?" Confusion and exasperation were keen across the link.

"We need to give her more of a reason than 'we told you so'." MG4 cut right to the chase.

KSG released a string of profanity, and MG4 had to remind herself that she was not the target of the frustration. "Where do you suppose we have time?"

"After this, we know that we're getting more time off." MG4 pointed out. "You said yourself the Commander is sick of getting dragged into more garbage." KSG sent a brief agreement. "Would Alfa-?"

"Alfa already bargained her drunken stories in return for being a right bitch to one of the newbies." A pause. "I'll see about the others. It's probably worth getting everyone on the same page. And solving any bad blood."

"Understood." MG4 flicked off the safety on her weapon. "Fine. You want answers, we'll give you answers."

Honey Badger stopped, looking at her, really looking. MG4 held the look, and Honey Badger huffed. "Fine. It better be worth it."

MG4 didn't point out that war stories were never worth it, watching Honey Badger stalk to her intended position. Sighing, she focused on KSG again. "You owe me for this."

"You know as well as I do that, she's most likely to listen to you." Having her suspicion confirmed didn't make MG4 feel better. "This is going to turn into a circus."

"A circus is my problem, MG4." KSG sounded more amused than anything. "A bunch of miserable vets in a room I can handle."

"I admire your confidence. I don't share it, when Alfa is going to say something rude about the Soviets in earshot of at least three Ex-Soviet soldiers." MG4 took aim. They would be starting soon.

"Groza won't do anything. SV-98 will just snap back. New girl, not sure. I'll take care of it." KSG repeated her point. "Mission first. We'll solve that mess when it's over." Shaking her head, MG4 accepted KSG's mild rebuke.

"We are good on your signal." A confirmation followed.

-Faded Glory-

"Two on the hill." OTs-12 listened closely to SV-98's mutterings, doing her best to keep adding yet more tracking dots to an already chaotic map. It had taken a while to realize that SV-98 wasn't calling individual targets, but in fact tagging large groups of Sangvis, sometimes as many as twenty at once. Periodically the map would stutter as new information from KSG, Ballista, or the Commander synced up. With each new addition the picture of what they were facing cleared, while simultaneously becoming more ominous.

Having worked for an NGO that did military analytics, OTs-12 knew that just because a battlefield looked to favor one side didn't mean that side would prove victorious. Nonetheless, she could imagine herself writing the report 'Griffon forces outnumbered by a significant margin and unable to commit additional assets to the field. Superior equipment and troop quality suggests an eventual victory but achieving tactical and strategic objectives in this theater is unlikely.' Another cluster of enemies dropped onto the map, a cluster of Jaegers in what might be loosely called a firing position.

"Overwhelming numbers." OTs-12 trailed off, catching herself mumbling aloud.

SV-98 lifted her check from her weapon, shaking her head. "Tactics right outta the 40s." Shifting her weight into what might have been a more comfortable position, the sniper went on. "Don't the Americans have some saying about hornets and nests?"

OTs-12 hummed. "It's one thing to read about situations like this but it is so much different to see it firsthand." Reports made it sound so dry. Her first tastes of combat were short, but incredibly intense bursts of violence and death. This game of sitting, watching and anticipating felt so much worse than anything that OTs-12 had done before.

"Ignoring us doesn't make sense." SV-98 turned her attention to OTs-12 completely. "Any idea why?"

"They're stupid?" As she hoped, that drew a bark of laughter from SV-98. "Or they don't think we're a threat."

"While they are stupid, I doubt they are that stupid." The sniper resumed her watch. "Considering how many of them we've killed."

"Probably a different Ringleader." At least, that made sense to OTs-12. "They might not know how many they lost during the other mission." Recording a few more groups, she carried on. "And, that Ringleader we got Skorpion from? She's the only really smart one we've seen. Executioner got herself killed by M4, and Hunter, outside of being good and stalking people in the dark, seemed pretty awful at actual battlefield command."

"A fourth officer?" SV-98 paused, looking up again, eyes drifting as she considered. "Possible. I'd run that one by the Commander, Groza, and the rest."

OTs-12 opened the connection but didn't even manage to start explaining when the Commander spoke up. "A new, thus far unencountered Ringleader matches my assessment."

"Probable." KSG followed up. "Hunter and the one responsible for additional forces deployed more sensibly. OTs-12's ears filled with pops and snaps as KSG expanded the channel. "All teams, double back on checks, I want a secondary count of everything we have so far." SV-98 muttered a few curses but started again. "Groza, 74M, rejoin SV-98 and OTs-12-" The rest of KSG's orders drifted off, OTs-12 not wanting to pay attention to the more complicated shifting of people.

Double checking everything again made for slow going, but it gave her time to think, and wonder. According to the Commander they'd been assigned a new Doll, AK-74M to replace PP-2000, and now OTs-39.

The news that she wasn't joining them in the field didn't come as a surprise to anyone, from what OTs-12 could see, even if it had been rather sudden. Still, she hadn't actually met the new Doll, Groza having separated off to pick her up from some scouting post.

Before her musing could get entirely out of hand, the crackle of brush and dirt drew OTs-12's attention. Turning she could pick out Groza's blonde hair easily enough, leading the way towards them while a more striking figure followed behind. While Groza wore Griffin combat fatigues in the field, it always seemed ill suited to their team leader, fighting against her natural elegance, AK-74M seemed completely at home in such clothing. While obviously 'Griffin' with a skirt instead of pants, she resembled the soldiers that OTs-12 remembered from the propaganda movies and images, down to the stoic expression and seeming complete control of her surroundings.

Drawing level with them, Groza nodded to them both. 74M followed suit, nodding to OTs-12, and then, much to her surprise, saluting SV-98.

Even her voice sounded like a soldier, smooth and low without being heavy. "Starshiná."

While OTs-12 knew it was an illusion of her senses, the air seemed to grow thicker. SV-98 had already started to turn back to her weapon, but on the address, she froze. Slowly, the other Doll turned, rising to her feet, expression flickering through a range of emotions that OTs-12 didn't hope to try and decipher. The anger made sense, given the feelings that SV-98 seemed to hold for her military service. But the rest, OTs-12 didn't get at all. Nonetheless, she stumbled back a few steps, not wanting to be anywhere near the crossfire.

Groza seemed to sense the same thing, stepping forwards, a hand on SV-98's chest, light enough that the sniper shouldn't take it as a threat, but enough to be in the way. "98." Not a warning, or a request, from what OTs-12 could tell.

"Let's make something abundantly fucking clear." SV-98 pushed Groza's hand aside. "You call me that again, I will kick your teeth in, and screw the consequences." If the sudden express intent to escalate to violence took her aback, 74M didn't show it, taking the threat in stride. Groza did step in between them, matching the absolutely scathing glare from SV-98 with one of her own, before the sniper's attention returned to the newcomer. "Where the hell do you get off, anyway?"

"We were in adjacent units." 74M's tone remained professional, still unphased by the anger. "You and your Captain made a few waves."

"Sure." SV-98 seemed to collect herself, lacing the next words with even more venom. "Doesn't mean you drag that shit back up, when we've all been dead and done with it for years."

This time, it seemed to really click for AK-74M that the sniper wasn't just messing with her, and was in fact worked into a proper fury, if the surprise, and confusion flickering across her face were any indication. Nonetheless, she dipped her head in a small manner of apology. "Understood."

SV-98's pupils were wide, anger still radiating off her, obviously having more to say. But, with Groza standing between them, and OTs-12 still watching with growing concern, the sniper took the concession for what it was, visibly biting her tongue. With a curt nod, SV-98 spun on her heel, and stalked to a different point on the hilltop, taking a position near a large rock, and settling down to resume her duties.

"I apologize." 74M looked between Groza and OTs-12. "I did not mean to upset her."

"Not your fault." Groza pinched the bridge of her nose, abruptly striking OTs-12 as incredibly tired. "Any blame that exists is my own, as I should have warned you that the war can be a rather touchy subject with her." Gathering herself their team leader nodded at OTs-12. "OTs-12, AK-74M."

"Hi?" OTs-12 waved, feeling a bit awkward in the aftermath of everything.

AK-74M's lips twitched in amusement. "I do not appear to have made the best of impressions, but I look forward to working with you."

"It's fine." OTs-12 waved the concern away with a sheepish smile. "We're kind of a strange bunch, and SV-98 blowing up isn't unheard of." Turning to Groza she realized they were short a Doll. "Where'd you lose Skorpion?"

"She'll be joining us shortly."

OTs-12 hummed. That probably meant she'd run off to handle some minor problem or something. "What next then? We can't sit here forever."

"To borrow the phrase from KSG, 'the fireworks will start soon'." Groza checked her weapon. "The Commander is talking with whoever is inside the facility, apparently in some effort to coordinate our actions."

"You do not sound confident in his success." AK-74M finished checking her own weapon, and glanced up with a frown.

"Did you ever deal with the Vympel?" Groza's tone suggested the question to be rhetorical, although it still didn't make a lot of sense to OTs-12. She knew the name of course, but the allusion didn't quite land. "Same idea." 74M grimaced, suggesting that she did.

Somewhere in the distance an explosion sounded.

"Eyes open." This time it was the Commander on the line. "Locals are getting restless."

-Faded Glory-

Without anything else to do, M4 found herself reviewing her orders for the tenth or eleventh time. She was to take her sisters around on a wider path around the bulk of the fighting to join up with M16. According to the Commander she would be waiting at a prearranged contact point. They weren't expecting contact with the team that had been protecting M16, and if his instruction to 'de-ass the area' after meeting her were any indication that would not be expected. KSG and the others would be keeping Sangvis busy, so they could complete the task efficiently.

Those concerns needed to wait, as M4 could tell there was a bigger problem directly in front of her. Something seemed to be deeply bothering both STAR and SOPMOD, one descending into a deeper brooding silence than usual, the other simply quiet, looking between her siblings pensively. M4 knew she'd never get an answer from AR-15, but SOPMOD might be willing to talk.

Luckily, she could get AR-15 out of the way without many questions. "AR-15. Move up to that hill." A curt nod was the only answer, the group markswoman moving up, leaving M4 and SOPMOD alone.

"M4." SOPMOD either knew what she was doing, or simply took the opening provided her. The sudden intensity on her sister's face took M4 aback. Beyond the sheer joy of ripping off Sangvis limbs, SOPMOD rarely seemed so focused on a single thing. "Have you talked to Ak-Alfa?"

M4 took a few seconds to think. She couldn't recall speaking much to KSG's second, or even interacting with her. From a distance it seemed hard to reconcile the idea of her being KSG's sibling, as where KSG stayed quiet and composed Ak-Alfa seemed almost the polar opposite of that. "No."

SOPMOD huffed, fiddling with the joints on her clawed hand. "She's a jerk." M4 flinched back, shocked by the blunt anger in SOPMOD's words. "A great big jerk, who's really bad at apologies."

Reeling M4 decided she needed to get the entire story. "Maybe start from the beginning?"

Luckily SOPMOD proved more than willing to do just that. "When you were having that big meeting with everyone else, she came down to talk to us." SOPMOD paused, a rock hard enough to bury it most of the way through a nearby tree. "Told STAR that she's going to get people killed." M4 didn't catch her wince in time. Even from what she'd seen of Ak-Alfa that felt unusually harsh, but exactly as direct. SOPMOD didn't seem to notice, still engrossed in her story. "Then, she told me that I should get her really really drunk, because she'd say something stupid and then I could mock her about it."

"That...that doesn't feel like a good arrangement." Maybe knowing M16 biased M4, but she couldn't say couldn't see that ending well.

"That's what I told her. That drinking just made M16 stupid." SOPMOD's usual smile started to form then vanished again, and she kicked another rock. "Everyone is so serious and glum all the time."

M4 didn't know what to say to that, especially when she wholeheartedly agreed with the statement. "They were soldiers." M16 hadn't been a soldier, but she'd been around plenty, and in her more serious moments M4 could remember M16 saying that soldiers tended to be like that, or could be, given all they saw and experienced.

"Soldiers doesn't mean-" SOPMOD flailed her arms and words, "That?" A pause. "Alfa said something similar. That she'd seen and done horrible things, and that's how she knew what would happen."

M4 didn't manage a reply. "Area is clear." AR-15 cut in over the radio. "Hurry it up."

"Hold position until we arrive." Sending SOPMOD an apologetic look, M4 gave her instructions, hurrying to catch up. As they moved, she sent the information along to KSG, receiving a terse acknowledgement, getting back the information that she should coordinate with MG4 and Honey Badger.

"M4." And right on cue, MG4 made contact, requesting a confirmation of their location. M4 passed it along without comment. "Please hold position. We will reorient to protect your approach."

"Will do." Sharp eyes bored into her side. M4 flushed, realizing she'd been speaking aloud. "MG4 asked us to stay put while they move." The other two didn't comment, leaving M4 to her thoughts again.

Taking a second look at the movement of Dolls and Echelons on the map, M4 could help but wonder just what KSG was playing at. There was a plan that much was obvious, but M4 struggled to see just what it might be. Part of her suspected KSG expected a massed assault on their positions but with how spread out the friendly positions were that didn't make sense. Likewise, they weren't positioned to attack the Sangvis on the far side of the little valley. None of it quite made sense in M4's head, unless Sangvis had far more of a numerical edge than she believed. And even if they did, surely a Griffon force this large could simply overwhelm them?

"In position." MG4 broke that train of thought, and M4 focused again on the route ahead. They would be ducking through a small gap in the treeline to make the sprint to the ruins, but that would have to wait until everything began.

"As soon as KSG says go." M4 spoke aloud for the benefit of her teammates.

"Ja." While MG4 didn't comment further, M4 could help but feel somewhat judged. It felt rather like the machinegunner knew something that she didn't, or had some opinion that she kept quietly to herself.

"So, what, we wait?" AR-15 didn't sound pleased with that idea, if the fingers drumming on her weapon was any indication.

"For now." M4 didn't want a fight. "We need to get to M16, and that means Sangvis needs to be distracted."

"Whatever." AR-15 very obviously didn't agree, but she didn't say anything, continuing to watch via her scope. "Just as long as they don't hog all the fighting."

-Faded Glory-

Compared to most of the battles that FAL had experienced, this felt surprisingly tame.

When KSG gave the order to engage, Sangvis barely registered the attack at first, letting the long-range rifles tear holes in their lines. When they did eventually turn and hurl massed forces into the Griffon lines, the small valley they were positioned across turned the ground between them into a killing field, grenades, gunfire and increasing precision fire making any serious advance impossible.

In the background, KSG could be heard occasionally muttering over the radio about the lack of air power, mortar fire, or heavy vehicles.

"She is entirely what I expected from an American Marine, and nothing like what I expected." Five-seveN gave voice to the thought that had been growing in the back of FAL's mind for a while.

Not that she would let her second know that. "By which you mean?"

"She's smart, calm, and efficient." Five-seveN hummed. "But she's also seemingly quite inclined to solving the problem with the largest amount of explosive she can.

"I believe it is a uniquely American problem, to be disappointed in not having a bigger gun." Or at least, it fit the stereotype, and FAL's limited observational evidence from the war. "And she has a point. If we had mortar support this would already be over."

"I'm afraid I can't solve that particular legal problem for you." Five-seveN didn't smile, eyes glued to the carnage below. "Still no Ringleader."

"I imagine whoever they are, they know what we are trying to do." FAL paused to reload. "As such I suspect the Ringleader is doing the same thing as the previous ones, targeting our objective rather than pick a fight with us in particular."

"And we are trusting those three to handle it?" Ballista joined the conversation, words scratchy with radio static.

"Trust is a strong word for a wallflower, a psycho, and a tryhard." Five-seveN's not quite a mutter drew a thin smile from FAL.

"There are also the on-site specialists." FAL reminded them, seeing no reason to dispute the rest of the description, especially one she agreed with.

"Ah yes, a bunch of hush-hush types, ready and waiting to hang us out to dry." Ballista's eye roll was audible. "Forgive me for not being inspired."

"Would you rather take heart in knowing that two of those three have killed Ringleaders alone, often at significant disadvantages?" FAL relayed back that all was going well in response to a mental query from KSG. "Our mission is hardly in jeopardy of failure due to a misplaced Ringleader."

"Are you trying to convince us, or yourself?" Five-seveN shot back. FAL could feel the other three listening, FNC and FN-49 holding their tongues as the elder members hashed things out.

"When do I ever try and convince you of things I don't believe?"

"You remain entirely convinced your fashion sense is good." Without missing a beat FNC took the longest running stab at FAL's ego. "We all know that Five-seveN has to save your fashion sense from itself."

"Even then, my success is debatable." Five-seveN tacked on with an equal lack of hesitation.

"My fashion sense has never threatened your life." FAL snapped, and the line went silent for a while. "Whatever else one feels about them we can agree they are capable, and their unique foibles are not a risk to any of us on this mission." A series of more and less reluctant agreements followed, and FAL considered the matter closed.

All along the ridgeline gunfire continued, Sangvis beginning to marshal some manner of effective return fire, as more and more troops pushed into the area. Sheer weight felt like a growing concern, but they had a while before they were likely to be overwhelmed. FAL sighted in another grenade. The rest of the mission was not her problem, but she could already see it having far reaching consequences.

AN: And we're off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of whiskey- wait, wrong series. But yes, we're in the home stretch of the collect the AR-Team, as well as meeting Squad 404. 45 and Blackwood talking is one of the most stressfully enjoyable things I've written in this whole fic.

Also, I have decided that I will be breaking the story into separate arcs, to make it more digestible and easier to keep track of. The first split will be happening sometime after a good bit of wrapping up from rescuing M16, so not for a while but just throwing out a heads up.

As usual, big thanks to Branded King, because holy shit the mess I handed him for this chapter was, well, a mess. Reviews, Comments, questions are always appreciated. Next chapter is almost half done so maybe I'll get it out faster. We'll see.