Chapter 15

Aftermath

Vai'dqouulth was at the base of the tower, staring up at the humans. He was cloaked, for all the good it had done him so far. The 'veteran', as he had come to call the human, was very good at spotting him.

He was so very tempted to climb the tower and get the computer from the damn Earth simians, but he'd be at an extreme disadvantage if they saw him on the climb up. Which they would, undoubtedly.

A stupid idea crossed his mind just then. He could simply ask them for the device. Which would be a problem, since he didn't have a wrist device to properly communicate with them. Damn himself for not taking those speech lessons.

He snorted through his mouth. Like they'd hand it over anyway. Even if he could communicate with them, it was unlikely they ever would get to that point. They and he would just go back to killing each other before then.

No, his best strategy would be to perch in a nearby tree and wait for them to come down. Then he'd decide upon his strategy.

The upside to his current predicament was that the smaller male, who owned and carried the device, had wielded a weapon during that battle; albeit clumsily. Regardless, he was officially fair game, now. If only by the strictest definition.

As he took up watch in a nearby tree, Vai'dqouulth reflected on the battle. Or at least the little bit he had been able to observe. It had been glorious. He only wished he had taken part in it. Whichever one of the humans killed that… mutation of a hard meat had certainly earned his respect.

If it had been the female, he'd be even more impressed, given her much smaller stature. Pity that the head had been destroyed. That would've been a trophy worth saving.

He supposed it didn't matter. Humans didn't hold as much value in skulls as his kind did. And since he couldn't claim credit for the kill, the destruction of the trophy was irrelevant. Actually, all trophies were irrelevant at the moment. His only trophy was that device.

One way or another, he was making a move on it soon…

Petrov had rejoined them some time ago, on a small, fenced-in service platform near the top of the tower, but nobody seemed eager to climb down to the ground. Whether it was exhaustion, or grieving, or a combination, Katja didn't know.

Adrien looked like he was about to fall asleep. "You still with me, Captain?" Katja asked. She was huddled in between Zaitsev and Petrov, with Alexei trying to squish in beside her, their backs against the wind. Up here, with no forest or terrain to protect them from the gale, it felt so much colder than on the ground. But Adrien was on the opposite side of the platform. Alone.

He gave her no response. He just stared out into the wilderness.

"I haven't thought about my family more than once since I got out here. Now they're all I can think about," Adrien said several minutes later. His eyes seemed glazed.

It was definitely time to look him over. Squirming out of her warm pile, Katja shuffled over to Adrien.

She examined him closely. His eyes lost their foggy look and tracked her, but he still seemed in a daze.

"Do you have a headache? Dizziness?" she asked, sitting beside him. "Vision problems? Nausea?"

"No," he said flatly. His eyes seemed normal, but she'd probably have to take a flashlight to them later and check pupil dilation.

Hoping that she could observe his condition better if she kept him talking, Katja rested the back of her head against the fencing and said gently, "You know, your family isn't just another thing you can detach yourself from, Adrien. Of course you're thinking about them."

He turned his head away from her.

"What's the last thing you did with Mackenzie?" she asked, pulling her hood over her ears and then tucking her hands between her knees.

It took a while for him to respond. She didn't know whether it was because of a concussion, or because he didn't want to confide in her.

"It was a couple months ago, over Mackenzie's school's winter break. Chloe let her come to Langley for the weekend. I brought her to the Smithsonian, and then to the American Girl store. The second one was Mackenzie's choice. She picked out some blonde doll. Kit, I think." He pressed a hand over his eyes. "It was… she barely knows me, anymore. It's like she's scared, or – I don't know. Maybe she didn't even want to visit."

"She was probably just a little nervous about the long trip, if she doesn't get to see you that often. Maybe she doesn't know what to say to you. She's just a little kid," Katja told Adrien, moving a little closer to him. "I'm sure she wanted to be with you."

Though her empathy was stirring, she couldn't help but notice his slip. He lived in Langley, Virginia.

Home of CIA headquarters.

Now she knew who he was working for. Or rather, had been.

Adrien hadn't just been denied rescue; he'd probably be arrested on sight if he even set foot in America. Their circumstances had completely reversed in the last hour. It should have made Katja laugh and gloat, but at this point she only felt pity for him. At least the Americans were going to give her benefits. Adrien had nothing, and nowhere to go. And nobody.

Adrien grunted, though Katja couldn't tell if he was agreeing with her last statement about Mackenzie or not.

"How about your wife?" she tried next. "Chloe? What's she like?"

Lowering his head, Adrien said, "Beautiful. Really sweet. Loves coffee and the color green. And snowstorms, if you can believe that. Doesn't even mind shoveling it after, if she can sit at the window and watch it. Can't get enough of orchestra concerts. We never had a ton in common, but we always just… got each other, you know? And we learned to appreciate each other's interests. It's weird, but it made me like her that much more."

He really did still love his estranged wife – to the point of rambling, it seemed. It wasn't just another story he'd made up. "It really seems like you miss them a lot."

"You think?" It wasn't the politest reaction, but at least he sounded more like his normal self.

Sensing that he was closing down again, Katja placed a hand over his. "Look, I sort of understand what you're going through–"

"Why, you lose a kid?" he asked. This time, the sarcasm stung.

Katja took her hand away from him and rested her chin on her knees. "Not… exactly." She didn't want to get all the way into this. Her men were right across from them and could hear everything. And while Petrov and Zaitsev knew she'd left Alexander, they didn't know exactly why. At least, she didn't think so.

But she also needed to give Adrien something. Something just to keep him going, the way he had for her last night.

"So, you know how I told you I was engaged once?" she asked.

Adrien nodded absently.

"A couple of months before our wedding, I took a couple pregnancy tests, and they were positive. I was really excited." Particularly because she hadn't believed it was even possible. "Alexander and I had agreed that we'd wanted kids before getting engaged, so I thought he'd be as happy as I was. Well, to put it mildly, he wasn't."

Tracing the camouflage pattern on her pants, Katja recalled the argument. Regrettably, she remembered it vividly. "He flipped out and started screaming at me. Told me he had only said he wanted kids because it was what I wanted to hear, and he had been planning on a vasectomy after the wedding. Then he told me I should 'get rid of it' if I wanted to be married to him."

The story seemed to have caught Adrien's attention. "What did you do?"

Katja smiled faintly. "I knew if I kept the baby, my military career would go down the drain. Sure, every job pretends like they wouldn't discriminate; but this is the Spetsnaz. They don't care what's fair. And a single mother, who would need much more leave time than a man simply for recovery, with parents who would never step in to lend a hand? I was pretty much screwed. Mmm, pardon the expression. If I was lucky, they might have transferred me to a desk job with no hope for advancement until the baby was in school."

"So…"

"So I told Alexander to go to hell, obviously. Told him I was keeping the baby and leaving him. Moved out that very day." Her smile faded. "The funny thing is, after all that, I wasn't even pregnant. The tests were wrong. I bought a defective box, I guess. When Alexander found out, he immediately came and apologized. Said he'd been scared and completely overreacted, but that he loved me, and on and on. I told him to get lost. He harassed me for a while. I'd almost classify it as stalking. But he stopped very suddenly. Even left a bunch of boxes of my stuff outside my apartment for me."

"Why?"

"No idea. Must have found another woman. I was just glad he was gone." Katja scratched at her ear, suddenly very uneasy. She'd never told a soul the real reason she'd left Alexander, only giving vague answers about how they wanted different things. Now she'd just announced it to four people at once.

"Get to the reason for this story, Katja," she told herself. "Adrien, I know it isn't the same. But I do know what it's like to one day have a person you love, and the next day they're gone. And you're right, I didn't lose a kid. But it… in a strange way, it kind of felt like it for a while. Stupid, I know." Realizing she was once again twisting the end of her braid, she stopped herself.

"My point is, I want you to be able to get home to your daughter and your wife. I'll do everything in my power to make it happen."

Adrien looked at her sadly. "I appreciate that, Kat. I do. But my handler wields a lot of power. He's tied up in Weyland. He's the one who tipped them off, and he's trying to cover it up. He'll do anything he can to protect himself, including keeping me from coming home."

"About that." Katja shifted, trying to make herself more comfortable. "Your boss. He was the contact of my benefactor, right?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Because I'm pretty sure my benefactor is my father. He was KGB."

"Yeah, I know."

Katja looked at Adrien with bewilderment, and he had the grace to look ashamed. "I had Scarecrow listen to you and Petrov talk last night."

Well, that figured. It always seemed like she and Adrien were trying to stay one step ahead of each other instead of realizing they needed to be in step with one another. "Great," she scoffed. "Anyway, if I know my father, he would never make a bargain with someone, especially an American government official, without first gathering a ton of intel on who he's dealing with. All I have to do is ask him for the paper or digital trail, and you can use it to clear your name."

Adrien seemed doubtful. "Weyland has a way of covering their tracks. You sure Papa Red Menace still has the connections to uncover something like that?"

"I'm telling you, he wouldn't have looked into making a deal if he didn't. He likes to have… leverage."

Adrien lapsed into silence. She was just about to prompt him about his thoughts on the matter when he looked at her, his face inscrutable.

"Why are you doing this, Katja?"

The question made no sense to her in the context of what she'd been telling him. "Huh?"

"I've been nothing but awful and rude and disrespectful to you since we met. I threatened your guys and tried to abduct you this morning. Why are you helping me? Why do you care?"

"Because it's my job. It's why I joined the army. To help, and protect my people to the extent that I can. As far as I'm concerned, everyone here is my responsibility. Even you," Katja answered. And she'd been doing such a great job of it, too, she thought bitterly, thinking of poor Preobrazhensky at the bottom of the tower.

The wind increased, strong enough to nearly push her upper body forward, and Katja shivered.

Though he didn't reply to her explanation, Adrien put an arm around her, shielding her from the worst of the chill. "Hmm. If it's any consolation, I would've gone to the asshole's house and given him the vasectomy myself. With a potato peeler," he hummed.

A chuckle got stuck in Katja's throat, and she rubbed her hands together to warm them, relieved that at least for the moment, she'd dragged Adrien away from the edge. Maybe even literally, given their perch and his history of suicide attempts.

"Dad? Dad? You know about Kit Kittredge?"

"Not really, baby girl. Who is she?"

Mackenzie was finally coming out of the shell she'd been hiding in since Adrien had picked her up from the airport, and he didn't want to ruin it.

Pressing her hands excitedly against the doll's plastic display case, Mackenzie said, "She grew up in the Great Depression. That's almost a hundred years ago when people didn't have any money."

"You're right, it was," Adrien said, sticking his hand in his pocket. The amount of people in the store was making him jumpy, and the reflections on the display cases were doing weird things. Like a distortion, one he could barely see. Like–

God. He really needed to go back on his anti-anxiety meds.

"So, um. So," said Adrien, licking his lips. "Kit Kittredge. What was it like for her to grow up in the Depression?"

Mackenzie began chattering excitedly about soup kitchens, baseball, a father losing a job, and hobo camps. Adrien listened as intently as he could, because it was obviously important to her.

"And there's six books. I wanted to show you, but that's a lot of books to bring on a plane."

"Did you get them for Christmas?"

"Yep!"

"And you read them all already? Nice work!" The entrance doors banged loudly, and Adrien's head whipped around to look. It was only some excited kid bursting into the store.

"Dad? Daddy? You're hurting my shoulder," Mackenzie whispered, eyes wide.

Adrien looked down, to where he'd grabbed Mackenzie in preparation to run.

"Sorry. Sorry, sweetheart." He quickly released her. "So, you have the books, but not the doll?"

"Yes. Kevin said it was too expensive. But that's okay. I'm just glad I got to look at her. Thanks for bringing me here, Dad."

Adrien's mind slowed, playing back what she'd said. "Wait. Who's Kevin?"

"Mom's boyfriend. Didn't she tell you about him?"

No.

"Oh, right, Kevin. Yeah, of course." Adrien smiled. "You know what? The doll is expensive, but I haven't gotten you a Christmas present yet, and you did so well with those books. If she's the one you want, then she's going home with you. You need her."

And Adrien needed to return to the doctor for a new prescription.

Adrien hadn't really been keeping track of how long they were on the tower, shaking in the cold, before Katja stirred against him and pulled him away from the memory.

"Look, we can't stay up here forever," she announced. "The queen might send more of her troops. I'm not sure if she has anything worse than that rhinoceros thing, but I don't want to find out."

Alexei asked her something, appearing rather nervous.

" 'Where are we going to go' ?" Katja echoed him in English. "Back to the apartment, I suppose. It has food, water, and heat. And it's defensible. At the very least, it's a place where we can regroup and decide what we will do next."

Stifling a groan, Adrien stretched his back. He was going to pay for that hit from the big alien tomorrow. "Don't forget, the hunter is out there, too. He's the one who took out the drone during the battle." Adrien really didn't want to get an up-close and personal answer to whether the hunter was after Katja or Alexei once they were on the ground.

"I had hoped the serpents killed him yesterday. Too bad that tank alien wrecked the car," Zaitsev sighed. "It would have been a safer way back to the apartment."

Katja slung her rifle over her back and put on her helmet. "We'll move fast. Stick very close to each other. No talking. I am specifically addressing you, Alexei. If we're vigilantly watching for it, listening for it, we'll have a better chance of knowing it's there. Watch for it in the trees." Looking to Adrien, she asked, "Any other advice?"

"No, I think you pretty much covered it."

Moving to the fence around the platform, Katja peered over the edge of the tower. Hesitantly, she added, "I do… I do want to pay respects to Preobrazhensky. It won't take long."

Adrien would've been concerned if she hadn't insisted. It was just who she was, he knew that now. "Sure, Kat. It's not a problem," he said as nicely as he knew how.

They began moving to the service ladder, when suddenly Alexei began to speak. Even though Adrien had no idea what he was saying, he knew the kid was whining.

"I don't want to hear it, you little prick!" Zaitsev snarled, advancing on Alexei. "If you're too scared to climb down, then please, don't climb down. You already got Preobrazhensky killed, and Yahontov too, because you just had to trip and fall down that hill. So by all means, stay up here. Otherwise, you'll probably kill one of us next."

Petrov restrained Zaitsev and backed him away from Alexei. "Zaitsev, stop. Now," he ordered.

"Sir, he–"

"I know. I wish we could leave him here, too. However much he's at fault, though… In the end, remember the serpents are the ones who killed Yahontov and Preobrazhensky. We can't fight each other. There aren't enough of us left to do that."

Zaitsev scoffed dismissively, and Petrov responded by reaching out and grabbing a handful of his jacket tightly. "They threw this kid into the meat grinder to die, just like the rest of us," Petrov said in a low tone. "Except he has no training. You can hate him, I don't care; but he's a victim, too. And above all, I don't want you making him your focus when we are surrounded. Hear me?"

"Yes, Sir," Zaitsev finally said, sounding marginally less resentful, and headed for the ladder.

When Petrov passed by Katja, Adrien noticed how her eyes followed him with open appreciation, and she murmured after him, "Nice job. And very impressive work with the grenades earlier, too."

Petrov offered her a quick, acknowledging nod and lowered himself down the ladder. Show-off. Acting like it was no big deal when he knew perfectly well what a ballsy move his rodeo stunt had been.

"You know, I held my ground when that thing was charging me," Adrien mumbled. "Just saying."

Katja grinned at him. "And got knocked on your butt."

"Well…"

"Come on, Adrien; I'm kidding. Your machine gun saved us in that valley. I never would have thought to use the drone, either." She winced as a particularly harsh blast of wind hit them. "Now let's get out of here."

Turning her attention to the kid, Katja said, "All right, Alexei. Let's take this slow. When you climb down, I don't want you to think about the ladder too much. Just count the rungs. Only think of counting, okay? I'll be right here."

Alexei stood motionless. He was a cat stuck on a telephone pole, afraid to go up or down, and Adrien fought to keep from shouting at him.

With a little more cajoling from the ever-patient Katja, they were on their way.

Slowly.

Some echoing noises were what made Vai'dqouulth realize that his quarries were coming down the tower. Finally.

They were all gathered around the remains of their cohort, who had met with a grisly end. Vai'dqouulth had been around to see that. He was grateful to that fallen human, simply because saving the diminutive male had ensured his chance of preserving the planet.

Just as he had made a plan of attack, the humans did something that stopped him. They were digging. Settling back in, he zoomed in with his mask and watched. The body of their companion was placed in the shallow pit and covered up again, but not before they took more of those metal tags.

Burial? That's the only thing he could guess at this point. He had seen human graveyards, but never witnessed a ceremony before. What would they use as a grave marker, though?

His answer came when they took some of the dead human's gear. Specifically, his weapon and helmet. They fixed a blade to the end of his weapon, which Vai'dqouulth didn't previously know was possible, and stuck it in the ground. Then, they placed his protective headgear on top of the weapon.

For a moment, they did nothing but stand there. Then, he realized some of them were praying. Likely to their own gods, and not his.

After a little time, they began talking again, but he couldn't distinguish what they were saying. Whatever it was, they were on the move again.

Despite the urgency of the situation, Vai'dqouulth was far too interested to not see this up close. He had never witnessed a human ceremony of death before.

Once they had vacated, he came to the grave. It was then he realized this wasn't just a regular grave. The language was universal; this had been a warrior's burial. His weapon and helmet were being used as a monument of remembrance.

This was not how his kind handled death ceremonies, but the sentiment was the same. Out of respect, Vai'dqouulth took a moment to pray as well. They may not be his species, but warriors were due their recognition, nevertheless. After all, he had lost brothers before, too.

After he was finished, he reassessed his plan. He'd give them some time to mourn and come down from the adrenaline of battle. With any luck, they'd be so exhausted that he'd be able to slip in and slip out with the device while they slept.

It was dishonorable to kill something during its sleep cycle, after all.

Vai'dqouulth pulled out the pair of metal tags he had taken earlier. What was the importance of these items? Were they valuable somehow? They had strange markings on them that he couldn't read, so it was difficult to tell. The metal didn't seem very precious or durable to him.

The humans seemed to see some value in them, however. He'd hold onto them for now. Perhaps they'd be useful somehow, sometime down the line. Perhaps not.

Until such a time, he had prey to follow.

Katja knew they would arrive at the apartment soon. They had retraced their steps in complete silence, hypervigilant. Even Alexei had been watching the treetops, her Glock held white-knuckled in his hand.

Above them, a low, steady hum suddenly began to buzz, building, louder and louder until it was a roar. Everyone craned their necks, trying to see the source.

Katja knew it wasn't the hunter. It almost sounded like–

Three yellow helicopters, flying low, cleared the trees above them. Katja held up an arm to stop the group.

She spoke into her radio, knowing the earpieces her men were wearing would allow them to hear her over the noise of the choppers. "Looks like Weyland. Hold your position until they leave."

Nobody responded. Katja frowned. Zaitsev had taken Preobrazhensky's radio, so they were all in communication now, aside from Alexei. Surely one of them had heard her.

She looked to Adrien, whose mouth was moving. Her earpiece stayed silent.

Tapping her ear, she shook her head at him. Something was clearly wrong with their radios.

"Weyland," he mouthed, and she dipped her chin once in frustrated acknowledgement. The last thing they needed was another potential enemy sending reinforcements. On the other hand, maybe their presence would take the queen's attention off their group for a while.

Everyone waited without moving until the helicopters were out of sight.

"Okay, why didn't we wave for help?" Alexei asked.

"Maybe because it was more mercenaries?" retorted Zaitsev. "Idiot."

"Courtesy of my boss, no doubt," said Adrien. "Anyone's radio working?"

"No," replied Petrov. "Mine's dead."

Katja removed her radio and passed it to Alexei. "Check it, please. Everyone else, watch for threats."

After several minutes of examining the device, the scientist gave a helpless shrug and handed it back to her. "It's in working condition. My guess, someone is interfering with communications. Maybe the people in the helicopter?"

"ECM jammer, perhaps? They own a telecommunications company," Adrien threw out.

"Then we're going to have to assume we won't get communications back," said Katja crisply, throwing the equipment in her pack and holding back her disappointment. "Keep moving and don't talk. The hunter could be anywhere."

When they were within a half-kilo of the building, Katja saw fluid movement beside a tiny office building on the outskirts of the town.

It was a Siberian Roe deer, probably a doe by the lack of antlers, gliding with liquid grace across the gritty parking lot. It was alone. She watched it for a moment, wondering how it hadn't already been attacked by a spider or serpent yet.

Making a decision, she lifted her rifle to her shoulder. Having never hunted before, she didn't know deer anatomy well enough to guess exactly where the heart was, so she took a head shot instead. The animal immediately fell.

"Hey!" Alexei cried. "Was that necessary? Poor little Bambi. And that hurt my ears."

"Think you could've gotten something bigger?" Zaitsev offhandedly remarked.

"Jeez, Katja, I thought we were trying to be quiet," Adrien chimed in. "What was that? The hunter had to have heard that. You killed a female, too."

"So?" Katja responded. She didn't understand why everyone was putting up such a fuss.

"Everyone who hunts knows not to kill females. Practically illegal where I'm from," Adrien explained.

"Tell that to the one following us," Zaitsev mumbled.

Tightening her mouth, Katja addressed the group as everyone followed her to the corpse. "We need to eat. Canned stuff can only go so far. We need fresh food, protein. And I thought it might be nice for the deer to die quickly rather than eventually have a space worm explode it from the inside out."

"But the blood trail," Petrov began.

"They've been tracking us anyway. Doesn't matter," she said. "Besides, we're almost there."

"Great. Who gets to carry it?" Adrien asked unenthusiastically. "I already f'ed up my back from that hit."

Katja peered down at the deer. Its huge eyes stared at nothing, and she couldn't help but feel a little bad for killing it, even if they did need it and she'd spared it a worse fate. "I can drag it, if you all can cover me."

Zaitsev gave her a look. "Captain, that thing weighs more than you do. Umm, respectfully."

"I'll carry it with you," Petrov said to Zaitsev.

They soon resumed their march, Adrien and Katja at the front and rear of the procession respectively, keeping watch for the hunter.

The strain of looking for an invisible foe was starting to affect Katja's eyes, and it was giving her a headache. Maybe she hadn't gotten enough sleep last night, after all, she reflected as their apartment came into sight.

"All right, who knows how to field dress a deer?" Adrien asked.

When he received no answer, the American sighed. "I guess that would be me. Sometimes I hate being from the Midwest. Can any of you at least give me a hand?"

"I sort of know how to butcher cattle," Petrov said. "But it's been a while, and my parents didn't usually have me do it."

"I sharpened my knife on the train here," said Zaitsev helpfully.

"All right, Z, good enough for me. You're up," Adrien said, waving both him and Petrov past him. "Katja, where am I doing this?"

"Lobby?" she suggested. "We don't exactly have a walk-in cooler."

After he'd agreed, she held the lobby door open for Petrov and Zaitsev, who squeezed through with the deer.

"Put it over there," Adrien pointed to a corner. "The rest of you, see if you can find some rope somewhere, will ya?"

"We'll start searching apartments," Katja told him. "Come on, Maksim. Come on, Alexei."

Vai'dqouulth had been surprised to hear a human weapon fire a single round. Unlike the battles against the serpents, one shot suggested it was for precision. Still, he rushed to make sure the computer wasn't in immediate danger.

He had been keeping a respectful distance from the group to avoid detection; it was simple enough to do once he realized they were returning to their nest. He had also, by now, concluded that they'd originally left the building to be picked up by their allies. An extraction. For whatever reason, it had apparently failed.

Another unexpected occurrence was seeing more human aircraft, with the large propellers, coming into the infection zone. Interestingly enough, his prey hadn't seemed too ecstatic about it. That led him to believe the two 'clans' of humans would not get along.

Coming up on his group, he found the female's weapon to be the hottest in infrared vision. She had shot something.

It didn't take long before they were all huddled around what she had killed. One of the horned beasts he had eaten earlier, though this one was without the bone protrusions. Perhaps a characteristic of the sexes. They called it a deer.

The Yautja had to force himself to suppress a purr of satisfaction. Females of his kind hunted, but never had to prove anything to males. It was always the other way around. Seeing a female – different species or not – hunting and successfully killing something was immensely satisfying. A shame that once again, the skull was ruined.

He briefly wondered if any of the males around her found her attractive, or desirable, as he had no idea. She was a warrior, a successful hunter; and in technical terms, blooded. If she were Yautja, the amount of courting gifts at her feet would be staggering. It was no wonder her companions followed her with little protest. At least from his cultural perspective.

The males seemed unimpressed, however, pointing out that the 'hunter' – which he guessed was him – would have heard the weapon. Which he had. The kill apparently had been entirely for sustenance, and not for a trophy. Made sense, really, and just reinforced how little they valued skulls.

They were now at the entrance of their dwelling. Vai'dqouulth's earlier assessment had been correct; they were retreating to rest and eat. It was advantageous, because he had already scouted the building's layout. He would have an easier time with his goal.

Vai'dqouulth took up position in another tree to watch them through the glass of the building door as they began bleeding and harvesting the deer. The males' skill in this area was severely lacking, however. If they were trying to impress the female, she surely wouldn't be.

Regardless, assuming they were staying in this building tonight (and he had no reason to believe they wouldn't), he would make his move.

Adrien worked with Zaitsev silently. It wasn't enjoyable work, all the cutting and blood; but he had to admit, some hot venison did sound good.

Zaitsev spoke up, breaking the quiet. "I'm sorry about your kid and your wife. Even with all you tried to do to us, I still hope you get back home."

"Likewise, Z. And I'm sorry about Preobrazhensky."

"Yes, me too." Unsurprisingly, his voice was heavy. "He was my closest friend."

At least Katja seemed to be handling it better than yesterday's deaths, Adrien reflected. Either she was getting numb to it, or the time they'd taken to set up the grave and say goodbye had been beneficial for her.

Hoping to get Zaitsev's mind on something else, Adrien asked, "So how did you guys get Katja's stuff back from her ex and make him stop stalking her?"

It made the man smile, and he asked, "How did you know? She never guessed it was us."

"Guys like that don't usually just back off. Whose idea was it? Petrov's? No, angle the knife that way, man. It'll separate the skin from the meat better."

Zaitsev changed the direction of his blade. "Ahh, nah. Terrorizing a civilian? Petrov wouldn't get involved with something like that, even if he wanted to. No, it was Preobrazhensky's plan. Petrov did actually catch us changing into our uniforms and painting our faces camouflage that night. When we told him where we were going, he just told us not to get caught. That's about as close to breaking the rules as he gets. Anyway, we went over to this guy's house. Preobrazhensky was even wearing his ghillie suit. The fiancé opens the door to ten angry special forces men, nearly wets himself. We weren't even armed, but it didn't take much convincing to get him to hand over the Captain's things."

"Nice," said Adrien in approval. He paused. "Did you know about the whole not-pregnancy thing?"

"No, that was a surprise to me, too. She doesn't talk about her personal life." Zaitsev shrugged. "As much as she cares about other people, I don't think she has many friends. Or at least, she doesn't get close to anyone. Nobody had even offered to throw her a bridal shower, so my wife did, though I think they've only met once. Of course, it never actually happened, with the breakup."

Katja, a friendless loner? Adrien found that information surprising, given the way people seemed to gravitate towards her. "That when she hooked up with Petrov? After the breakup?"

Zaitsev laughed, then seemed to realize the question was serious. "Oh, I thought you were joking yesterday. They aren't together."

Adrien contemplated what he'd seen of their interactions. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Don't get me wrong, he's been crazy about her since they were teenagers in basic training. Even though he's never said anything, everyone knows it. Except her. I doubt she'd even thought about it until you said something yesterday. My guess, he's too scared to make a move."

"Guy jumps on a dinosaur-sized, acid-filled alien, and he's scared of a hundred and ten-pound redhead?"

Zaitsev then gave an amused shake of his head. "Maybe. He's gotten dumped a lot; maybe he's lost some confidence. There was this one night, at the base bar. Petrov was with us guys, having some drinks, and Katja comes in on her fiancé's arm in this little black dress. I emphasize 'little', but only for the purpose of this story. I only have eyes for my wife. But Petrov couldn't even look at her. Just stared at his drink and didn't say a word when she came over to say hello to us. We thought he was having a stroke. Saddest damn thing I've ever seen. She thought he was annoyed that his superior was bothering us on a night off, and ended up leaving." Sagely, he added, "Yep, it's tragic, all around. 'Hooked up'. Heh. Right. Only in his fantasies."

Suddenly, he scowled. "Why are you asking? Are you interested in the Captain?"

"No," said Adrien quickly. If pressed, he'd have a hard time denying that he found Katja attractive, on a certain level. And she was certainly fun to tease. But his focus was on staying alive to get back to Chloe and Mackenzie, the only two loves of his life.

"Good. Because the last thing our leader needs in the middle of all this is to be caught in a love triangle that she has no idea she's a part of."

"No need to worry about that," Adrien replied honestly. "Trust me. And all things being equal? I was never going to leave you guys behind. It was all a bluff."

"I know, you don't seem like the type," Zaitsev answered.

He didn't seem like the type? Interesting, though maybe he thought that because Adrien hadn't left him behind when he tripped back at the FOB. Though admittedly, he wasn't as cold-blooded as he pretended to be.

They finished speaking just in time, as the topic of their conversation returned to the lobby. Katja was holding a loop of rope. "Will this work?" she asked.

Adrien took the rope and tugged it. "I think so. Only way to be sure is to tie one of you to the bed as a test."

There was a long stretch of silence. "You have a strange way of testing tensile strength." Zaitsev observed, breaking the silence.

"What can I say? It's the American standard," Adrien shrugged. Metric system be damned to all circles of hell…