Patricia's face filled the screen on the secure laptop currently perched on Top's desk, her expression grave but determined. Hannah and Noah flanked her, each clutching tablets filled with intelligence reports. "The trap needs to be perfect," Patricia stated, her voice leaving no room for argument. "We can't afford any mistakes, not with Jaz's condition but also because if chatter proves correct, she will bring down on of the largest black market intelligence rings in decades."
Hannah leaned forward. "We've mapped every security camera on base, Top. Noah's created a detailed analysis of Hawkins' movements over the past week."
"He's been following a pattern," Noah explained, pulling up a diagram. "Every Thursday night, he accesses the secure communications building, claiming he's sending reports to his command. But our monitoring shows he's been copying classified files.
" Top nodded, his jaw set. "And you're sure about the timing?"
"Positive," Hannah confirmed. "He's planning to make his move during tomorrow night's field games. Most of the base will be occupied with the exercises, providing him perfect cover."
"What about his men?" Top asked, running a hand through his hair.
"Two of them," Noah replied. "They'll be positioned as lookouts while he makes the transfer. Once he has the drives, they'll escort him off base through the maintenance access road."
Patricia leaned closer to the camera. "Adam, I know you're worried about Jaz. We all are. But she's right about this - she's the key to bringing him down." Top's shoulders tensed. "Patricia...she can barely stand for more than ten minutes. McG says her concussion symptoms are still severe."
"Which is exactly why our plan will work," Hannah interjected. "Hawkins is arrogant. He'll never expect her to be there."

In McG's room, Jaz struggled to sit up, fighting against the wave of dizziness that threatened to overwhelm her. "I need to practice," she insisted, even as her vision swam.
"What you need is rest," McG countered, gently pushing her back against the pillows. "The steroids are helping, but your body needs time." Jaz caught his hand, her grip fierce despite her weakness.
"Time is the one thing we don't have, McG. Tomorrow night..."
"I know," he interrupted, his voice soft. "But running yourself into the ground won't help anyone."

Amir appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray loaded with protein-rich foods. "He's right, Jaz. Save your strength for when it matters." As he carefully placed a tray full of his famous home cooking on her nightstand. "Lumpy chive potato soup, lean roast beef with fresh garden veggies and a side of hand mashed potatoes swimming in gravy just like you like it. I wont be offended if you don't eat a ton, but you need to try to eat more than you have been. Any other time, and my cooking ego would be wounded"
That night, McG lay beside Jaz in his bed finishing off her left overs while listening to her steady breathing. The bruises were finally starting to fade, but he could still see the pain etched in her features even as she slept. His mind wandered to their kiss from days ago. It wasn't their first moment of intimacy - far from it. Since Elijah's death, they'd found comfort in each other's presence during countless sleepless nights. He remembered how she'd started appearing by his bed after particularly rough missions, especially ones involving children. Those nights, were partly how she had earned her nickname Ninja. The guys did not care if they woke up God and everyone if they needed him in the middle of the night. He was lucky if they knocked. But not her, she'd slip in quietly, stand over him in the bed and wait. Those were the nights she'd let her guard down just enough to accept the comfort of his arms around her, the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear. Their relationship had always been different, special. Elijah had made sure of that from the beginning, practically ordering McG to help make Jaz feel welcome on the team. What had started as an obligation quickly became a genuine bond, one that deepened with every shared laugh, every quiet conversation, every unspoken moment of understanding.
"I can hear you thinking," Jaz murmured, her eyes still closed.
"Just remembering," he replied softly.
Jaz's eyes opened, finding his in the darkness. "About?"
"The first time you showed up at my door. After that mission in Kandahar."
She was quiet for a moment, her hand finding his in the dim light "You never asked why."
"Didn't need to. Some things don't need words."
"Joseph..." she started, using his first name in that way that always made his heart skip. "What we're becoming..."
"Terrifies you?" he offered with a gentle smile.
"Yes," she admitted. "But not for the reasons you might think. I'm not afraid of letting you in - you've been in for a long time. I'm afraid of losing what we already have."
McG moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his thumb tracing circles on her palm. "We can't lose something that's part of who we are, Jazzy. Whatever this becomes, it's just adding to what's already there." She tugged him closer, wincing slightly at the movement. "When did you get so wise?"
"Must be all those late-night talks," he teased, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He continued tracing circles on her palm. "When did you got so damn stubborn."
"Have you met me...pretty sure I was born this way," she replied with a soft laugh that turned into a wince.

The next evening, the team gathered in their kitchen. Top stood at the center, outlining their positions one final time.
"Amir, you'll be with me at the communications building. Preach, you're on overwatch from the water tower. McG-"
"I know my position," McG interrupted, his eyes fixed on Jaz who was sitting quietly in the corner, conserving her strength.
Top nodded. "Jaz, are you sure about your spot?"
She met his gaze steadily. "The maintenance shed gives me the perfect angle. He'll never see it coming."
"The shot's nearly impossible," Preach commented, though his tone held no doubt.
Jaz's lips curved in a slight smile. "Good thing impossible is my specialty."

Everything unfolded exactly as they'd predicted. Hawkins slipped into the communications building, his two men taking up positions outside. Top and Amir watched from the shadows as he downloaded file after file onto multiple drives. "Command, we have eyes on target," Top murmured into his comms.
"Copy that," Patricia's voice crackled back. "Everyone in position."
Minutes ticked by, tension building with each passing second. Finally, Hawkins emerged, a laptop bag slung over his shoulder. His men fell in step beside him as they headed toward the maintenance road. Top and Amir stepped out of the shadows, blocking their path.
Hawkins' face twisted into a sneer. "Well, well. If it isn't the great Adam Dalton and his pet spy."

"It's over, Hawkins," Top stated calmly. "We know about the drives."
Hawkins laughed, the sound harsh in the night air. "You think you can stop me? You already ended my career once, taking that weak, pathetic Arab girl instead of me for your precious team."
"Careful," Amir warned, his voice deadly quiet. "You're only making this worse for yourself."
"Worse?" Hawkins scoffed. "I'm about to make myself rich, and there's nothing you can do about it."
"Your team is a joke, Dalton. You chose diversity over capability, and look where it got you? A hot piece of ass you and your team don't even at least pass around.."
The shot came out of nowhere - a perfect hit that took Hawkins in the leg, sending him sprawling. Before his men could react, another shot caught him in the arm, causing him to drop the laptop bag. His men turned to return fire, but McG was already moving. He caught the first one with a brutal combination of strikes that spoke of contained rage finally finding release. The second man managed to land a glancing blow before McG swept his legs and drove an elbow into his solar plexus.
"That's for sucker punching me," McG growled, adding another strike for good measure. "And that's for touching her."
From his position, Preach couldn't help the proud grin spreading across his face. "That's my boy."

Running footsteps announced Jaz's arrival, her breathing slightly labored but her movements precise despite her injuries. She approached Hawkins, who was trying to crawl away. "Oh no you don't," she said, her voice carrying across the night air.
"You don't get to run away from this."
"You?! Hawkins managed to spit out..You're nothing," Hawkins spat. "Just a weak-"
"First of all" as Jaz stomped her boot into Hawkin's chest, her tone almost conversational, "I'm not just Arabic. I'm mostly French. We're known for being rude... but you? as she ground her boot in a little more, "You're just a straight-up pathetic, washed up, God complex ass."
She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Though I guess we all know what that really means, inflating your ego and importance to make up for your blatant manly inadequacies.
In DC, Patricia and Hannah exchanged glances before breaking into laughter. "That's our girl," Hannah managed between chuckles.
"Never mess with a woman who can outshoot you," Patricia added with satisfaction.

Hawkins tried to lunge for her legs, but Jaz's deadly grace allowed her to side step his pathetic attempt and she ground her boot deeper into his chest forcing him to look at her. "Anything you can do," she said, her voice clear in the night air, "I can do a thousand times better. Not because I'm a woman, not because of my heritage, but because I simply have more accuracy, more skill, my finesse...because I am simply more, than you will ever be.""
 "Impossible is kind of my specialty," she informed him cheerfully. "You really should have done your homework."

Preach and Amir helped the MP's wrangle up Hawkins's two men as Top roughly pulled Hawkins to his feet throwing him at the MP's. As they led him away, the charges being read out in official tones - "treason, attempted murder of a Special Operations member, kidnapping of a Special Ops Member, and assault of Special Operations member" - Hawkins turned back for one last glare.
Jaz responded with a cheerful wave and blown kiss. "Bye bye! Try not to drop the soap ."
Top couldn't hide his amusement or his proud smile. "That's my sniper."
"Our sniper," Amir corrected with a grin. "Though I think McG might have a stronger claim these days." Top rolled his eyes and moved on as Preach chuckled.
Patricia's voice came through their comms, satisfaction evident in her tone. "Good work, team. Proud of our girl and he defiantly got what he had coming to him, though secretly, Hannah was rooting for Jaz to stomp on his inadequate man hood instead of his chest"
Jaz laughed looking at Top, "Sorry Hannah, there was so little down there I was afraid he wouldn't feel it"

Top looking slightly amused by her admission, approached Jaz. "You did good, Jaz. Real good."
She straightened, pride evident in her stance despite her exhaustion. "Just doing my job, Top."
"No," he corrected with a smile. "You did exactly what I knew you could do when I chose you for this team. You prove day in and day out, why you belong here. Belong with us."
The team gathered around her, their relief evident in their laughter and celebrations. McG moved to her side, his hand finding the small of her back in that familiar, protective gesture they'd perfected over years.
"That shot was impossible," Preach said, shaking his head in amazement. "Absolutely impossible."
"She said it's her specialty," Amir reminded him with a grin, 'Which is why she's with us, we specialize in the impossible."
The team continued cleaning up, securing evidence and coordinating with command.
Amir was across the yard when he noticed something off about Jaz's posture. She was standing too still, one hand pressed against her chest. "Jaz?" he called out, already moving toward her. "You okay?"
She took a shaky step forward, her face draining of color. "Top..." Her voice was barely a whisper at first, then grew more urgent.
Top's head whipped around as did everyone one of her guys.
"Top.." More panicked than before..."Top ...I don't feel good..." She fought to stay upright, her hand clutching at her chest as she struggled to breathe. "Top... help..."
"JAZ!" McG's shout split the night as he sprinted toward her, covering the distance in seconds. He caught her just as she was about to slam her head into the ground. He cradled her head in his hands while he gently moved her head side to side.
"Stay with me, Jazzy," he urged, his medical training taking over even as fear clawed at his throat. "Stay with us..."