The Vagabond War

by EnigmaticSerpent

Metro DLC Sam's Story Natasha is a bandit living in Vladivostok at the time when Sam is trying to get home. She enlists his help in the bloody clan war that her brother's clan is fighting with the other bandits. She has her own ideas. She is tired of losing her people and plots revenge on those who have wronged them, but she could have never predicted the consequences of her plans.

10. Siege

Chapter 10: Siege

My mouth fell open, and I fumbled with my knife. I shook myself as a watchman climbed up to the second story landing, where Sam was leaning over the railing, firing at the ones below him. He hadn't seen it. Obscured in the darkness, it crouched low, stalking over the concrete.

Shit.

"Sam! To your right!" I shouted at him.

He whipped around and blasted the sneak several times before it finally fell. He nodded in my direction, clicking a new magazine into place. My stomach did a flip as I nodded back.

He came back to help me. He came back! I had a lot of feelings about that, none of which I was ready to admit.

"I would help you, but I'm out of ammo." I called.

He swore. "I have to do everything." Pulling two extended magazines from his vest, he eyed the distance between us. He gunned down the two watchmen that approached him and sprinted towards me, closing the distance to just a few meters. He hurled the magazines over the railing. They flew apart as they hit the floor. One skidded away towards the shelves, the other towards me, stopping just outside the door to the office.

"Ah, thanks." I scowled at the shelves and glanced back at Sam. "Well, that was helpful." I added under my breath.

"Don't waste them. I'm getting low. I can't give you any more."

Well, you could have thrown them better. Grumbling, I pushed myself through the ruined bookcase.

"Cover me!" I ran for the first magazine as Sam's shots cracked over head. Shit, where did the second magazine go?

I hurried across to the shelves, shining my flashlight underneath. There, just out of reach. Of course it was. I rolled my eyes. I glanced quickly over my shoulder before throwing myself onto my stomach, reaching under the shelves. As my fingers brushed the magazine, I heard a growl behind me and froze. I scrambled to pull myself up when the watchman's head exploded, spattering me with blood. I met Sam's eyes as he pulled back from the sight.

That was close.

"Thanks." I said, retrieving the errant magazine and stepping around the mangled watchman. My eyes widened, fixed on the door where the flames had subsided. More watchmen joined the fray. How many of these bastards were there?

Above me, Sam swore again and slid down the ladder at the end of the landing. He sprinted to me. "We're going to have to fight our way out of here."

"Through all those? How many spares do you have?" I asked.

"Besides the ones I gave you? Fifteen rounds plus one full."

"Shit. We'll never make it. Wait, there's a boarded-up window in that office. Maybe you could pry them off while I cover you?"

He glanced at the door to the office. "Alright."

We climbed over the bookcase and I turned back to fire at the watchmen while Sam checked the window.

"Cover me while I get this door open." He said after a moment.

"What door?" I asked over my shoulder. I eyed the metal doors in the floor and shook my head. "No, it won't open, I tried."

More watchmen clawing through the door interrupted me, unfazed by the broken remains of the bookcase.

"That's because it needs power." Sam said.

"What?" I spared a look at him between shots. He was connecting some wires to a power terminal on the wall near the door. I didn't see what he did then, as I had to smash a watchman in the head. These bastards weren't stopping. Where the hell were they coming from?

"Whatever you're doing, make it quick! I'm down to the last one." I said as I swapped to my last magazine and fired off several shots.

"I am. This thing is ancient." He replied in irritation, as the grinding of metal made me turn around.

The doors were opening. Slowly. Excruciatingly slowly. I backed up towards them, not taking my eyes off the door to the warehouse. I had a few seconds' reprieve before another four watchmen came at me. Sam spun around to help me hold them off as the doors edged open.

"Go." He urged, emptying his last magazine. He hurled a throwing knife into the head of the closest watchman as it jumped at him. Its body crashed to the floor mid jump. I hurried down the half-dozen steps into a dark cellar, the dank air cool on my face.

"Close it!" He called as I reached the bottom, his gunfire making my ears ring.

I hit the button, peering up at the doors, willing Sam to follow. Too long. "Come on!" I urged.

Sam jumped into the cellar as the watchmen sprang at him, rolling to lessen the impact of the concrete. I rushed forward to cover him, firing my last five rounds.

Click, click. Shit.

Despite the closing doors, a single beast forced its way through the narrow gap, its eyes locked onto me. It gnashed its foul teeth, and I kicked it hard in the face, but it recovered quickly. It squeezed through with a quick swipe that knocked me onto my back. The doors shut behind it with a final hiss. I winced and scrambled to reach for my knife, but before I could, it leapt at me.

The quiet swish of a thrown knife sailed over my head. The watchman crumpled in a heap on my chest, forcing the breath from my lungs. Blood from the knife wound in its ruined eye dripped down my shoulder. Gritting my teeth, I strained to lift the dead weight, relieved when I heard the scuff of boots on the concrete next to me. I could finally draw a full breath as Sam lifted it off me.

I groaned and sat up. "Thank you."

Sam nodded as he retrieved his knife, wiping the blood on the watchman's fur.

The others were bashing against the doors, but they were sturdy and locked tight. They weren't getting in. We were safe for now, but this was the worst time to be trapped.

I slammed my fist on the wall in frustration. "Shit. Shit. Shit! We don't have time for this!" They need me at the swamp!"

"You're not going anywhere until they leave." Sam pointed out.

I paced across the front of the room, listening to the growls and inhaling of breath on the other side of the doors. They were clawing at the metal, trying to get in. I gripped my hair as if I wanted to pull it out as my panic grew. Had anyone attacked the swamp yet? Were my people dying? Was it burned to the ground? Did I have anything to go back to? Fuck. I had to get out of here.

"Fuck off already!" I screamed at the unseen watchmen above me.

"Yeah, that'll help."

"Shut up."

Sam sighed. "Just stop. Think about it. How long does it take to organise a large scale attack?"

I stopped pacing to frown at him. "I don't know."

"A long time. They're probably not even there yet. Viktor will beat them. They'll be ready."

"And what if they're too many for us to handle?"

Sam shrugged, too casually. "The swamp is defensible, and they have the home field advantage."

"Right." I said, taking a deep breath. "They'll come by boat; it's the fastest way, and the only way in on water is through the machine gun at the checkpoint. We can shut a sluice gate there to block access." I took a few more calming breaths, glancing around the small room. I walked over to some chest-high shelves and idly picked up a tin of ancient fruit salad in a jacket of dust.

"And there are the catwalks above the gate where we can shoot from, and Viktor's tower, and-"

"Alright, I get it." Sam interrupted from over near a workbench at the far end of the room. "We need to get there first. We have no ammo and no boat. You plan on swimming back?"

I scowled at him, placing the tin back on the shelf. "Of course not. There's a friendly outpost about two miles east. We can resupply and get a boat. Maybe even get some backup."

Sam swung his pack onto the wooden bench. "That friendly outpost wouldn't happen to be that two story brick building with the mutants, would it?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Yes."

"Yeah, they probably won't be so friendly." He glanced over his shoulder at me.

"Because you killed their guards!"

"They shot at me first."

I huffed. "Because you weren't supposed to be there, Sam! If you had just waited for me, no one would have had to die! You asshole!"

An asshole who just saved you from being ripped apart. Damn, this was so much easier before he had been honourable.

"Wait for you to finish with your boyfriend, you mean?" Sam turned his back on me, unzipping his pack.

"To wait for morning! And that is none of your business." I glared at his back.

"Good. I don't want to know."

I tore my gaze away from him and glanced around the room again. There wasn't much here. It appeared to be a personal bunker, but judging by the stacks of food tins on the shelves lining the left wall, the owner never got a chance to use it.

"So what happened with our guards? Why did they have to die?" I asked as I sat on the old couch opposite the shelves and studied the novels on the bookshelf.

Sam heaved a sigh. "They attacked me. I was defending myself. They didn't want me to leave."

"Oh, if only I had said that to you." I rolled my eyes.

He frowned at me over his shoulder.

"They did attack you first, then? That's what I said to Viktor. He didn't believe me when I defended you. I'm glad I wasn't wrong."

"You defended me?" He paused in the middle of stripping his shotgun. The same one that had fallen into the water. He must have retrieved it before he escaped.

"Viktor wants you dead, by the way." I said.

"That's nothing new."

"You killed our friend. You know, at the fish farm? His name was Eugene. Let me guess, they shot at you first?" I had to work to keep the anger from spilling over into my voice. I picked up a dog-eared paperback.

"Yeah, they did. You warned them, didn't you? They were waiting for me."

"Yeah, I expected you would kill anyone who stood between you and those rad suits. I didn't exactly want you to kill them."

Sam grunted. "But you wanted them to kill me?"

I dropped the paperback and paced back to the shelves. "Maybe at the time." I growled. "This was all just one huge fuck up. This was not supposed to happen!"

"Not part of your plan? Shit happens when you use people."

I picked up a tin of beans. "So then, why did you come back? Why not let those watchmen kill me? Leave me to deal with the attack on the Swamp?"

Sam sighed, looking up from the firing mechanism he was working on. "Tom, coming after you like this didn't sit right with me."

I clenched my teeth. That evil bastard. I hated him. "You're still going to help him, though."

"He's my only way home. The way he does things is not something I have to like. Hell, I didn't exactly think it would go like this either." He met my eyes. "I wasn't expecting you."

My scowl softened. What the hell did he mean by that?

As he turned back around, I studied the curve of his back, his broad, strong shoulders, leaning over the bench. His hands deftly taking apart the rest of his shotgun. He was astounding. Cunning. Smart. And he was making my pulse race. Should I tell him about Ed's plan? Was now the time? Or would it make him an enemy again, after we were getting along? He wanted to go home more than anything, so of course it would be a mistake to tell him. I needed his help more than ever. I knew all too well the consequences of making an enemy of him, so I couldn't risk it happening again. And so, that secret would remain concealed, at least for the time being. But would it worsen the situation if I were to put it off? I sighed. Damn, I hated thinking.

As if he felt me staring at him, he frowned back over his shoulder. "What?"

Self-consciously, I shook my head and dropped my gaze, trying to ignore the flash of guilt. "I guess I just don't quite believe that you're here right now. After everything. After you said you'd kill me if you saw me again."

"Don't worry, I can't quite believe it either. Having morals is a bitch sometimes." He turned back to his maintenance.

"Well, thanks. You've saved my ass a few times now. I'm going to owe you."

"I wasn't keeping score, but we're probably even, since you didn't shoot me in the back of the head like you could have when I left. And since you stood in front of Viktor's gun to stop him from shooting me. Still having trouble with that."

I opened my mouth and shut it again, fumbling with another can.

"You should hate me for everything I've done to you." He said without looking at me.

"And you should hate me for everything I've done to you, but here we are."

"Here we are."

I filled my pack with various canned goods and walked back to the couch. "So I take it you won't kill me?"

"I guess not. Kind of pointless now that I saved your ass."

Shit. I did not need him to be saying this. It wasn't making my plan any easier.

"Will you help us defend the swamp?" I asked.

"I don't know. I guess."

My heart did one of those stupid flips. "Thank you, Sam."

He turned to look at me. "Yeah, but Tom's guys can't see me there. If he finds out I was helping you, I'll kiss my ticket home, goodbye. If I do, I'll shoot from a distance. From a roof or something."

"How do I trust you not to shoot our guys instead? Tom's guys are technically on your side here."

"You'll just have to take my word for it. And, no, they're not really. I don't care about them. They'll be my enemies as soon as they learn I'm helping you."

"But you care enough to help me?" I asked puzzled.

He pulled the barrel off his shotgun and setting it on the bench to clean it. He shrugged. "I told you, it wasn't right. He didn't need to do this."

I was confused. But then again, he also sounded confused, as if he couldn't decide how to feel about this situation. That made two of us.

I stared at the concrete at my feet. "We've been fighting them for a long time. They've been trouble for us ever since he came here. Strutting around like he owns the place. Taking what he wants. It's what he does. And if he knew what I've wanted to do to them, it might be justified. But we have done nothing to them since-" I paused, staring at a loose stitch in the upholstery of the couch. "Since Senya and Mikhail. Maybe an attack on us is exactly what Yuri needs to do something about them."

"I still think attacking them is moot if they're leaving, anyway. It's an enormous risk, especially if you're weakened by this coming attack."

I sighed, letting my eyes wander over his body. "Wouldn't you want to kill the people who killed a close friend, Sam?"

He turned to me again, meeting my frown. "Yes. I would want that." He stared down at the pieces of his gun before him. I knew that look. He was thinking about those people he left behind.

"Did you have someone back on your train?" I asked, with a flash of unwarranted jealousy.

"Nah. With how fucked up the Metro was, it was never a priority. I had my team, and that's all I needed."

"Right. Of course. Once a soldier, always a soldier."

"Something like that."

"Do you think that could change if you met the right person?" I asked before I could stop myself. Idiot.

Sam shot me a quizzical look. "I don't know, it's never come up."

My heart sank. What the hell was I expecting there? I shook my head. Stupid, Natasha.

When I looked back at him, he was watching me, brow furrowed. He sighed, the sound echoing in the silence, before turning back around. With an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

My skin heated. What was that?

I shook my head in frustration before getting up and walking over to the shelves, hoping to find some distraction.

"Do you want something to eat?" I asked after a moment.

"Probably should. Anything good there?"

"Define good."

"Okay, at least edible."

I stabbed the lid of the tin with my knife and roughly pried it off, sloshing syrup down my vest. Oh good. With all the other various fluids soaked into it, peach juice was the least of my concerns. I took my chances and sipped the juice. It was sickly sweet after so long on the bland apocalypse diet. I almost choked on it.

"That good, huh?" Sam commented.

I wiped my mouth. Besides being too sweet, it tasted fine despite its age. All that sugar. "Nah, it's fine. I'm just not used to the sugar." I tossed a can of fruit salad to him. He caught it and eyed it.

"It's actually good once you get over the initial slap in the face." I said, as I swallowed.

Sam grunted and pried the lid off as I had done. Without the mess, I noted. I watched him take a mouthful and cringe like I had.

"Oh yeah, you're not wrong." He said.

I wrinkled my nose. "I wonder how old these are. They look ancient."

"Probably best not to know."

I nodded. I took my can back to the couch and ate in silence.

After some time, Sam opened a drawer in the desk and I looked up. "Ah." He said, reaching into the drawer. "Do you have a sidearm?"

I frowned. "Of course."

He walked over and stopped in front of me. He took out a handful of .44 rounds and dropped them into my hands. The touch of his finger against my palm sent a rush of heat through my body.

"Ah, thanks." I said, retreating quickly.

"Make them count. That's all there is."

"At least it's something." I glanced at the doors in the ceiling to cover my embarrassment. On the other side, there was a hushed stillness. Had they finally given up? Were they silently waiting for us?

Striding over, I swung my Kalash's stock against the metal, the sharp clang reverberating in the air. There was an immediate scratching of claws and monstrous snarls above me. They were waiting for us then.

"Shit, we need to get out of here." I continued pacing anxiously. I pulled my revolver out again, considering it.

Sam eyed me over his shoulder from the workbench. "Don't be stupid. You won't get ten steps."

"We need to do something!"

"Yeah, not get torn apart. Sit tight. They'll give up and leave to find something else to eat."

How long would they stay before they gave up? Would they give up?

He sighed. "Maybe try to get some rest. Something tells me you're going to need it."

Frustration coursed through me, and I huffed. "I can't rest. I'm too worked up. They're going to attack my home!"

"I could always knock you out."

I snapped my head around and speared him with a glare. He met it with a smirk. Wait, he made a joke? My glare softened as my core heated. Oh, I really didn't need him doing that.

"This isn't the time for jokes." I said, glancing away.

"I disagree. It's a great time for jokes. Were you distracted?"

I sighed. Okay, maybe he was right. I slumped on the couch again.

After a few moments, he walked over to me. "But you know something that's better than jokes?"

I frowned at him. What the hell was he talking about?

"Get up and try to hit me."

"What?" I asked incredulously.

He shrugged. "What? You wanted to before."

"When you humiliated me?"

"You humiliated yourself. I didn't have to do much."

Irritation spiked within me as I narrowed my eyes at him. I threw a punch at him. Of course, the bastard immediately grabbed hold of my arm, wrenching me around in one quick movement. He locked my arm behind my back and held me immovably against his chest.

"Asshole!" I struggled against him.

"What did I tell you?" He asked, twisting my arm upwards to immobilise me with the pain. I clenched my teeth. "Anger makes you stupid." He snaked his other arm around my neck, firm, but still allowing me to breathe.

Inhaling slowly, I worked to calm myself. He was right. I couldn't think straight when I was angry. I focused on where our bodies touched, the feel of his racing heartbeat. Shit, no. That is not something I should concentrate on either! Once I calmed myself, my training took over. I pivoted my whole body, ignoring my screaming arm as I pulled against it. Leaning forward with a quick move, I pulled him down with me, while I shuffled my leg behind his, letting my weight fall backwards. His centre of gravity shifted, and I felt him topple with me. He tried to right himself, but my momentum pulled against him and we both crashed to the floor.

He recovered quicker than I could, rolling to brace his hands on the concrete either side of me before straddling me, pinning me under him. He grabbed my throat, not squeezing, but showing that he could. I was momentarily stunned, gazing distractedly into his deep auburn eyes, feeling the weight of his body on mine. His fingers tightened slightly around my throat and a spike of panic flashed through me. He wouldn't try to kill me now, would he?

"And, you're dead." He said. "Or unconscious and by that point, well, I don't think I have to explain that to you." He released his grip on my throat, but still had me pinned. "Senya didn't teach that to you? Because it takes less than a minute to fall unconscious, and be at the mercy of whoever has your throat."

I clenched my teeth again. "I know that. And you don't get to say his name." I glared at him. He could easily kill me if he wanted to. I was no match for his strength, but I was quick. In a swift motion, I raised my hips and brought my legs up beneath him, forcefully driving both knees into his stomach. His combat vest took most of the impact, but I knocked him back and gave myself space to roll out from under him. With a swift kick to his shin, he thudded to the floor. I should have left him alone, but I was so angry. I wanted to prove to him I wasn't some useless woman, that I could kick his ass. Pay him back for humiliating me in front of my friends.

As I lashed out with another kick, he grabbed my boot, spinning me around. I crashed to the floor and cried out in pain as he forced my face into the concrete with his knee. The taste of blood, sharp and metallic, lingered on my tongue as pain erupted from my nose. I let out a low growl and shifted my body, relieving the pressure of his knee. I jabbed him sharply under his combat vest with my fist, forcing his breath out with a grunt, and giving me a few inches of space.

I rolled over on my back beneath him, grabbing his wrist and tricep of his right arm in a grapple hold, locking it against my chest. I quickly followed up by locking my leg around his ankle, twisting my hips to the side. Despite him weighing more than I did, I rolled him over easily, using my momentum and the leverage from the grapple hold. In one movement, I pulled one of his throwing knives from his belt as I vaulted on top of him. Before he had the chance to react, I pressed the blade lightly against his neck.

"And, you're dead."

When he raised his gaze to meet mine, his expression revealed genuine astonishment. Maybe even admiration.

"What? It's not the first time I've had to escape from under a man. I live in a world of ferals. But unlike you, those that attacked me, all ended up dead."

"Yeah, well, you wouldn't have gotten to this point. You hesitated. Hesitating also kills."

"Oh, yeah, who's the one with the knife to their throat?" I grinned.

"Like I said, you would already be dead." He shifted under me. "Mind taking it away now?"

"How do I know you won't try to kill me? I should just do myself a favour and cut your throat." I pressed the knife a little harder into his skin. Not too much though, I didn't actually want to hurt him. "You know, I'm not sure I would do it. Think of all the fun we could have finding out."

He rolled his eyes. "You know I can disarm someone with a knife?"

"Hmm, you could also get me off you pretty easily, but you haven't done that yet either." I smiled again. "I think you like it."

I pulled the knife away and slid it back into his belt. Shifting forward, I ran my hands over his vest. His entire body tensed beneath me, uncomfortable with being touched.

As I peered at him, I could feel the warmth of his body beneath mine, making me acutely aware of our closeness, flooding me with another wave of heat. Something must have shown on my face, as he seemed to come to the same revelation. He rolled his hips in a quick, decisive movement that had me sprawling on the floor. He pulled himself to his feet, looking uncomfortable.

After a moment, he turned back, considering me where I sat on the floor. He sighed and offered a hand to help me up. As I came to my feet, I met his eyes.

"I wouldn't have hesitated if this was real." I said.

"Right."

And if it wasn't you. I added in the privacy of my mind.

He broke our gaze and walked back to the workbench. My eyes followed him across the room, red hot desire igniting in my stomach. He replaced the barrel on his shotgun. After a moment, he turned his head to glance over his shoulder, catching me watching him.

He narrowed his eyes at me and shook his head. "Whatever you're thinking, don't. It's not happening."

"What am I thinking?" I replied, trying to ignore the disappointment.

"Nothing good."

"Oh, I disagree." I smiled.

"I said don't." He turned around, yanking back on the cocking mechanism of his gun, with a little too much force.

With a sigh, I paced over to the doors, straining my ears to catch any sound. Silence. Had they left while we'd been sparring?

"Hey, I think they've gone this time." I said over my shoulder after a moment. With determination, I reached for my Kalash and once again slammed the stock into the doors. I waited for what felt like an eternity, my ears tuned in for the slightest rustle or growl on the other side of the doors. Nothing. Maybe they had gone, or had learned not to make a sound to lure us out.

I glanced at Sam. "We have to go. We're running out of time." This may be our chance. We had to take it.

He nodded and picked up his pack. He stopped beside me a few moments later and met my eyes. His were sharp and focused, nothing of the softness I had glimpsed before. Exhaling a sigh of disappointment, I inspected the bullets in my revolver. I nodded to him and he hit the button to activate the doors. I held my revolver out before me, feeling incredibly vulnerable with such an inefficient weapon.

I missed my Kalash and hoped the fugly catchers could give us some more ammo. We wouldn't put up much of a fight at the Swamp if they couldn't. Not much we could do with a few. 44 rounds against a well-equipped assault team. I clenched my teeth. Tom's men had everything they needed, yet he still wanted what little we had. Not if I could help it.

As the doors slowly lifted, a loud screech of metal filled the warehouse. I cringed, anticipating an attack, but none came, so Sam climbed the stairs as soon as the doors were open. He cautiously glanced around the dark space above us. After a moment, he emerged into the warehouse and gestured for me to follow. I let out the breath I was holding and walked up the stairs. All clear. They really were gone.

"Let's be quiet." Sam said, scanning the shadows. "I don't want to attract attention if they're still in the area."

"Agreed." I followed him through the dark as quietly as I could, avoiding the shards of glass scattered over the floor.

We quickly emerged outside. The luminous full moon bathed the shrubs and trees in a haunting silver glow, while conjuring disquieting shadows that danced mischievously with the wind, toying with my senses. Every flicker of movement and rustling of wind, my imagination conjured illusions of watchmen lurking in the shadows.

I shivered, trying to stay focused. "We have to hurry. The fugly catchers are only about two miles that way."

I gestured to the east down a waterlogged track through the shrubs.

"Let's hope your friends don't shoot us on site."

"Well, maybe I should go first so I can explain."

"Not sure if explaining will do it."

"Just, don't shoot anyone." I narrowed my eyes at him. "Oh, too late."

"That's what I'm saying." He replied in a clipped tone.

"Don't worry, I will fix the mess you made."

The formidable two-story brick building loomed out of the shadows ahead as we crested the hill. I heaved a sigh and squared my shoulders, staring at the flaming torches that illuminated the front of the building. There was no choice. We needed them. I had to explain. Shit. What the hell would I say? I wouldn't want to help someone who had previously shot my friends. Why should I expect these guys to? It would have been easier if Sam had finished them all off.

I couldn't see anyone outside and their pyre was now smouldering embers, but lights flickered inside.

I turned to Sam. "Stay here. I'll go in and tell them what happened, ask for some ammo and a boat. Hopefully I won't even need to mention you. Behave yourself." I walked up to the door as Sam melted back into the darkness of the trees.

Okay, there was nothing wrong. I belonged here. These were my allies. I had absolutely no reason to be worried. I sighed again before tapping my revolver on the door frame.

There were four fuglies tethered to the walls inside that started to growl and hiss, drawing the attention of a couple of guards.

"Hey! You assholes, shut your ugly faces!" One of the guards yelled.

As I walked through the door, the flickering light of a torch illuminated me. They both spun in my direction.

I held my hands up. "Easy guys, it's me."

"Natasha?" The one who had yelled looked surprised to see me. "Shit. I thought those watchmen got you." He narrowed his eyes. "Your friend came through here in a bad temper, said your swamp was going to be attacked. What is going on?"

"Yeah, that's why I'm here. Those watchmen found me, and I used all my ammo. I need more and a boat to get back to the swamp."

"Hold on there." He held up a hand. "Viktor told us a few things when he passed through."

I stopped, watching him warily. "Oh yeah? What did he tell you? Did he tell you he left me with the biggest pack of watchmen I've ever seen?"

"He told us you sided with that American jerk who killed our guys. Stopped him from killing him like he should have."

Shit. There it was.

"And you come back here asking for our stuff? I doubt Fyodor will want to see you. I should throw you out."

"That American jerk helped kill the Batwing and most of the watchman pack. He saved my life. Your guys only got shot because they attacked him. He didn't know they were our allies."

"The batwing is dead? How?" The second guard cut in.

"We fire balled the bastard." I replied proudly.

"Huh, nice."

"That doesn't matter. It doesn't change what happened." The first said.

"No, it doesn't. We fucked up. What matters now is that we get back to the Swamp to stop the attack we have coming!"

"That's your problem. You should leave."

"You won't help me?"

"No." The guard folded is arms across his chest.

"Where's Fyodor?"

"I told you, Fyodor won't want to see you."

"Please, just let me talk to him." I tried to move past him and he grabbed me by the arm and shoved me back, raising his Bastard gun.

"Whoa, easy." I held up my hands.

He took a step forward, enjoying his size over me."And have him kick my ass for letting you in? No! Leave before I have to do something. You're not coming in here."

I held my ground, but with only a handful of .44 rounds and an entire clan with assault rifles, I had no choice.

"I can't get anywhere without a boat." I protested.

"You walked before, didn't you?" He gestured to the door with his Bastard. "Do it again. I won't tell you to leave a second time."

With a scoff, I turned and shot a sour look over my shoulder. Damn. Fucking Viktor.

I glared ahead of me as I walked back to Sam. He raised his eye brows at me questioningly.

I leveled my glare at him. "Your fault."

"What happened?"

"They wouldn't talk to me because you killed their guys. He got a little hostile. I had to leave."

Sam scoffed. "So much for your allies. Now what?"

I marched down the hill. "So now we go to the swamp."

"We have no ammo."

"Yeah, no shit. We'll stop by the armoury at the swamp."

"And no boat."

I marched around the front of the building and clambered down the rocky bank, gesturing for Sam to follow. "Yeah, we do. We're taking one of theirs."

We stopped in front of two small row boats upturned on the rocky bank downhill of the building. Plan B.

Sam quirked an eyebrow. "Adding stealing to your list?"

I shrugged. "Like one more thing will matter."

I put Sam to work rowing us back down the channel. It was his fault we were in this mess, after all.

When we arrived at the fish farm again, we found it empty and dread bottomed out in my stomach. That wasn't a good sign.

My panic redoubled, and I fidgeted restlessly in my seat. "They must have called everyone back to the swamp to fight." I gestured to the docks. "Hurry, pull in here! They should have a better boat."

Sam eyed me with a furrowed brow, but pulled up to the nearest pier. I quickly jumped out as soon as he came to a halt and jogged down the pier towards the nearest boat. It was a rusty hulled fishing trawler just bigger than the rowboat, with a small wheelhouse at the front. It would be better than rowing the whole way.

After a few failed starts, we were back on the water, and I was near jumping out of my skin again. Sam steered the boat down the centre of the channel at full throttle, although that wasn't much to brag about.

Eventually, gunfire echoed through the darkness. Shit. It had already begun, and we weren't there. They could hold them off. Yeah, of course they could.

Sam glanced at me as I stopped pacing and stood beside him. "So have you got a plan or are we just going in guns blazing?" He asked.

"We have to get to the armoury first and get ammo."

"I'm not going in there. Someone will see me. I told you."

I huffed. "Fine, I'll get the ammo and you hide."

He speared me with a glare. "I won't be hiding. I'll cover you from a roof."

"Just don't shoot me or my guys."

"Yeah, I get it. You don't trust me. You haven't exactly been trustworthy yourself. I won't shoot you. As for your guys, I don't know what they look like, so forgive me if there's a case of mistaken identity."

"Just cover me. If it looks like someone is about to shoot me, shoot them." I turned to him. "Plus, most of Tom's men have shaved heads. I guess they think it makes them look tough."

"Sure." He pulled back on the throttle as we approached the sluice gate. As I expected, someone had shut it.

Startled by the deafening noise of gunfire, I quickly dropped to a knee, my heart racing, despite there being no one near the gate. The echoes from the shots were deceiving in the enclosed clearing.

"Shit. Give me a boost and I'll open it." I said, heading out to stand next to the wall of the wheelhouse.

"Nah, I'll get out here." Sam turned the boat broadside to the gate and shut the engine off.

He boosted me up onto the roof of the wheelhouse. From there, I could pull myself over the gate and jump onto the platform on the left side of the channel. I glanced behind me to see Sam follow me over. He scanned the compound.

"Those boats are going to be a problem." He observed.

I followed his line of sight to at four medium-sized boats set up as gunboats down by the piers. Each had machine-gun nests on both sides and several shooters on board. They were tearing into one of our shrimp boats, where my allies, my friends, were taking cover and firing back where they got the chance. The machine guns tore shreds off the shrimp boat and glass exploded as they hit the windows of the wheelhouse. The driver fell to the deck in a spray of blood.

I growled in fury. We needed to get down there to help. "We have to get to the armoury! They need our help."

Sam watched the fighting for a moment before pulling his hood up over his head. He sighed and nodded. "Fine. I'll come with you. We need to take one of those boats. We can use the machine guns."

"Exactly my thoughts." I frowned. "But I thought you were going to stay here?"

He sighed again. " I won't be able to see anything from here. I can take cover on the boat we take. Let's just hope no one recognises me."

"Sam, thank you." I said sincerely.

He nodded, curling a corner of his mouth into a half smile that threatened to set me on fire.

Focus Natasha! I shook myself and checked my revolver again. "Follow me."

We hurried down the docks and past the shrimp pits. We slipped through the side door unnoticed as gunfire hammered our boats and the front of the main building. That was until we entered the armoury. The armourer, Oleg, and a few of our guys were shooting from within the armoury cage, using the bench as cover. On the other side of the small room, five of Tom's thugs were attempting to move to the armoury. They shot an unyielding barrage at Oleg's group, leap-frogging each other so that they were always firing, keeping Oleg pinned down behind the bench. They were going to get into the armoury if we didn't do something.

Tom's thugs hadn't seen us yet, so we had surprise on our side. I moved past Sam, focusing on the five assailants, rage burning hot. I fired several quick shots, dropping the closest one to the floor. The other four spun in my direction as I fired again. My bullets hit another in the centre of his ugly face and he, too, fell like a tree. Oleg's group finished the rest off quickly with their Kalash.

Oleg straightened up and scanned the room as Sam and I moved to the cage. "Natasha! You're alive!"

"For now, but we need ammo." I said, pulling Kalash magazines out of an open topped bin below the bench.

He narrowed his eyes at Sam, who was covering us. "Natasha, what happened out there? Viktor-"

I stood in front of him. "This is what you want to think about right now?"

Heavy machine gun fire barked outside and an explosion soon followed, making all of us jump.

"Ah, no, of course not." Oleg exchanged glances with Roman standing next to him.

"Good." I picked up a few more magazines and gave them to Sam. "Stay here and defend this armoury. No one gets in. Lock the door behind us."

"Yep." Oleg agreed.

As we left the armoury, the steel door shut behind us and we heard bolts slide into place. Attackers would have a hard time getting through that door. Nothing short of explosives would breach it.

I wrinkled my nose at the offensive odour of burning metal, oil, and flesh when we stepped outside. I swore as I spotted the source. The shrimp boat that was under attack before we went into the armoury was now a ball of angry flames and black smoke. The hull entirely engulfed. Tom's gunboat had moved down the channel a short way and was continuing its assault on a second shrimp boat.

"I'm going to kill all of those assholes." I stormed down the catwalk, Kalash at the ready, focused entirely upon that boat.

The bullets that peppered the metal walkway around me, attempting to halt my advance, stoked my anger. It wouldn't work. I would get there and I would take that boat. And I would turn it on them. I ducked behind some barrels halfway down the pier. Sam shot back at them before joining me. I took several rapid breaths and leaned around the side of the barrels. The gunboat was close, but five shooters stood on its deck, facing our direction, while the machine gun nest tore at the second shrimp boat. We needed to do something before they destroyed it.

As I went to lean out again, the crack of a high-powered rifle broke through the carnage. Two of the shooters facing us fell to the deck in a spray of blood and the others dove for cover.

This was my chance to move up.

I turned to Sam. "Watch out for Viktor. He's sniping from his tower. Assume he's hostile toward you."

"Yeah, I don't need you to tell me that."

"Just get ready to run."

"I've got a better idea." He pulled the strap of his Kalash over his head and shoved it at me.

"What the hell?"

"I'm taking the back door." He gave me his shotgun next.

"Care to explain?" I scoffed, trying to juggle his weapons and my own.

"Don't worry about me. You just get to that boat." He turned to the water and dove in.

I stared at the water where Sam had disappeared, mouth agape, until more gunfire snapped me back to my senses.

This guy.

After securing Sam's guns, I took a deep breath and sprinted down the pier. Another shot cracked from Viktor's tower and a gunman I hadn't seen fell to the metal. Shit. I took cover again. We'll, at least Viktor wouldn't shoot me after what had happened.

Remembering what Sam had said about anger, I took another steadying breath before leaning out from cover. The boat had distanced itself from me and was now approaching our shrimp boat. Despite the machine guns on the boat's deck, my guys were giving it a good fight. They had a machine gun of their own and tore through the wheelhouse and across the deck in retaliation. While the thugs were preoccupied with our guys, I quickly made my way towards the port side, careful not to make a sound.

Just as I was about to board the boat, one of their men spotted me and immediately aimed his rifle, shouting loudly. But I was ready and gave him a quick burst to his chest. He crumpled, revealing Sam sneaking up behind him, bloodied knife raised to strike, dripping water on the deck.

I met his eyes, pulling my finger from the trigger. "Damn it, I almost shot you."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't." He offered a hand to help me on board.

"Don't bother." I scowled at him and vaulted over the side. I took in the two dead guys behind him, both with their throats cut and lying in pools of their own blood. Efficient.

"You could have told me you were planning to do that." I grumbled as I returned Sam's guns.

He shrugged, taking his shotgun and letting his Kalash hang on its strap over his back. "I improvised. I didn't even know I was going to do it." He took the lead towards the machine gun nest at the front that had our guys pinned.

As we neared the bow, Sam shouldered me into the rail. A Molotov exploded in a fireball on the deck where I had been standing. He swore and swatted at a drop of flaming alcohol that had splashed on his leg and burned through his trousers.

"Ah, thanks. That would have sucked." I said.

"Don't mention it." He met my eyes briefly before pushing off the rail.

He made short work of the two guys beside the machine gun, and I took the gunner. I waved vigorously at our boat to get them to stand down. They stopped their attack and waved back with a cheer. I immediately turned the gun to the other gunboat, taking them by surprise and killing their gunner. Sam started firing from our starboard gun. We tore the other boat to shreds. I gritted my teeth as my ears rung with the concussion.

I paused and pulled back from the gun when something moved along the front of the main building. While the boats were engaged with each other, five guys were sneaking up to the armoury. They all wore heavy plate armour and carried heavy weapons. One of them had a long, cylindrical tube propped on his shoulder. My eyes widened. A rocket launcher. He would breach the door to the armoury like it was nothing, while his friends, armed with powerful machine guns, would decimate Oleg.

"No! The armoury!" I shouted to the guys on the shrimp boat, but over the gunfire, I wasn't sure if they'd hear me.

Shit, there's no time.

I lined the iron sights up with the guy with the rocket launcher and fired. The gun shuddered through my entire body with its power, but I kept firing. The wall of roaring lead hit the heavies and the stray bullets tore chunks off the bricks behind them. They fell to the catwalk, but the guy with the rocket launcher somehow survived and dropped to a knee. My gun overheated, the hot steam making me arch back and stop firing.

No, no, no!

The heavy was arming his launcher. I switched to my Kalash, even as I knew it would not be strong enough to pierce those plates. I glanced around, seeking someone, anyone who could stop what was about to happen, but everyone else was engaged.

I whipped back around as an explosion reverberated through the front of the main building. Chunks of brick catapulted into the air with the force and a section of wall collapsed. The heavy waited for the rain of debris to stop and pulled himself to his feet, walking casually to the gaping hole where the steel door to the armoury had been. Oleg and his group had no chance.

I started firing again as the gun cooled enough. Bullets ripped into him, bringing him to his knees again. He turned his helmeted head in my direction and pulled something from his vest. As my bullets ripped into his torso, he half fell, half threw something through the hole in the wall. His body fell still, but whatever he'd thrown shook the entire compound, engulfing the front of the building and the body in a fireball that spread to the armoury.

My eyes flared wide, shock making me pause. I ducked as something in the armoury exploded and set off a domino effect of explosions. Thick, black smoke wafted from the ruined building and tongues of flames reached hungrily into the sky.

"No!" I barely heard myself scream over the ringing in my ears. I fell to my knees, choking on despair. Oleg. None of them could have survived that. There was no other way out. I only hoped it had been quick.

I forced myself to my feet, growling through gritted teeth. I kicked the overheating machine gun. Nothing more it could do for me. It steamed heavily and reeked of burning metal. I grabbed my Kalash and set my sights on the other gunboat. They would all die for this.

I marched to the wheelhouse and yanked on the wheel, turning us in a tight circle so that the bow aimed straight at the other boat. I opened the throttle and sank to the floor, bracing. Moments later, the bow shattered against the other boat in a deafening crack and I hit the wall, thrown back by the impact. Loud shouts followed, and I grunted with pain. My head swam, my vision blurring at the edges. Taking several deep breaths, I collected myself, peering through the grimy window. If I had judged correctly, the bow would have hit right where the machine gun nest was. Right on target.

Gunfire resumed as I pulled myself up and walked back outside. I had to keep going. Through the pain. They needed to die for all the deaths they caused!

Oleg!

Movement to my right. I spun, ready to shoot.

Sam held up his hands. "Whoa, it's me." His brow furrowed as he looked me over. "Holy shit, are you alright?" He watched me warily as if I was about to snap. And maybe I was. I'd had more than enough of this shit.

"Fine." I squared my shoulders and went to walk away.

He grabbed me by the arm. "Are you sure? Because there's a lot of blood coming from your head right now."

"What?" I gingerly brushed my fingers over a sizeable gash in my forehead. Warm, sticky blood covered the left side of my face. "I must have hit it when we crashed. How did I not notice that?" I peered at the blood on my hand, leaning on the wall of the wheelhouse as my stomach churned.

"Adrenalin." Sam grabbed my shoulder and pushed me back inside. "Sit."

"No, I don't have time to sit. I've got to fight." I protested, trying to push past his unyielding hand.

"Let me deal with it. You can hardly walk."

"I'm fine!" I tried to slap his hand away, but he held me against the wall.

"You look half dead. You won't accomplish anything other than getting shot."

"What the hell do you care?" I spat.

He considered me for a moment with a frown before speaking. "I don't want to be stuck here on my own if you get shot because you're too dizzy to see clearly."

Fair point.

I heaved a sigh and relented to the pressure of Sam's grip. I sunk to the floor of the wheelhouse, glaring at his muddy boots.

"And don't leave as soon as I walk away." He added before turning to jog towards the bow.

"Yeah, right, like I'd promise that." I mumbled to myself. I waited about five minutes, when the worst of the dizziness had stopped.

Enough.

I pushed myself to my feet, forcing down another dizzy spell. There was absolutely no way I was going to sit here while my guys fought and died without me. I would never forgive myself.

Ignoring the pounding in my head, I hurried across the bow and dropped straight onto the splintered deck of the gunboat, scanning as I went. I stepped over the bullet-ridden bodies of three of Tom's thugs. Sam's work, I assumed. He was thorough. I'd give him that. Not much for me to do here. I couldn't help but admire his efficiency.

I moved down the length of the gunboat and heard the machine gun towards the stern, begin firing. I glanced quickly at what its target was to judge who was using it. The bullets ripped into three of Tom's men firing from in front of the pump house. The reprieve gave my guys on the middle catwalks a chance to retreat. Sam had this end covered, so I walked to the starboard rail and peered across to the pump house. Sam glanced up and spotted me with narrowed eyes. I grinned at him. His disapproval hung heavy in the air between us.

Screw him. I have assholes to kill.

I considered the distance to the catwalk. Not too far. I've jumped that far before. But I dropped to the deck as the machine gun on the last gunboat opened fire. I gritted my teeth as Sam's gun fired back. I did a running jump to the catwalk while Sam kept the gun occupied. My feet slipped on the metal and I had to throw myself forward to avoid falling into the stinking water. I took a deep breath and collected myself despite the pounding in my head. I took off towards the last boat.

Someone behind me fired. I glanced back and stopped when I saw Yuri leading a small group, including Andrei and Dima, towards the boat. Yuri's face flamed with fury and he speared me with a hostile glare as he passed me. Andrei had an equally unfriendly expression for me, while the others were indifferent. Dread overcame me. What would he do after we finished fighting? I shook my head. That was a problem for later, one I didn't want to face.

For now, I followed them, sweeping through the gunmen left on the boat. Sam's machine gun boomed, then fell silent as the other gunner fell. After neutralising the remaining gunmen, our group performed a swift reconnaissance throughout the boat.

Yuri pointedly ignored me as we left the boat again. I glanced back towards Sam's gun, but he wasn't there. I paused briefly to find him, but with no luck. It was like he had vanished. That wasn't important right now. I would find him later. He probably just wanted to get a better position.

We returned to the catwalk and pushed the remaining gunmen back towards the front checkpoint. Or where the front checkpoint had been. It was now a flaming mess and the machine gun emplacement above was a smouldering ruin. They must have firebombed it. Now I understood how they got their boats through. Bastards.

They had retreated now, but we chased them through the sentry buildings, making sure none remained. My chest heaved as I chased down the last one, my knife ready. I wanted this one to be up close and personal. I threw the knife into his thigh, stalking up to him as he fell with a cry of pain, of fear.

Yeah, you should be afraid.

Slowly drawing out another knife, I stepped over him while watching his eyes track my movement. I kicked him hard in the ribs until he rolled on his back. He would see everything I was going to do to him and I would enjoy it.

I yanked my knife from his leg and relished the sharp cry of pain. Where to begin?

Yuri marched up beside me, startling me, and shot the guy in the head with his Makarov. "Stop playing around!"

I scowled at him. "What did you do that for?"

He grabbed me and slammed me against the wall. I crumpled to the floor at his feet; the fight knocked out of me. "You are in no position to question me!"

"Yuri-" I started, trying to keep the tremor from my voice.

"Shut up." He roared. "This is your fault!"

"My fault? How the fuck is this my fault?"

"I told you many times not to start trouble, and you brought it here! You involved yourself and us in things that didn't concern you. You brought a known ally of Tom's here and then you protected him instead of doing what you were supposed to do. Now many people are dead and it's all your fault!"

Anger overcame fear, and I clenched my teeth. "You have no fucking idea! You forget an important detail here, brother. It wasn't me or Sam that had been in contact with Klim. It was those assholes, Sergei and Ivan. They told him where we were and Ivan is still alive. Or did Viktor not tell you that? Was he so blinded by my supposed betrayal that it slipped his mind?"

"Viktor isn't the one in the wrong here! Nothing slipped his mind. He told me everything, unlike you."

"Then you know this attack is not my fault, or Sam's. Fucking hell, he came back and helped us fight!"

"You brought him back here?" Yuri roared. He pulled a knife and yanked me to my feet by my collar. I dared not breathe as he held the blade to my throat. Someone behind him gasped.

"Where is he?" He growled into my ear.

"I don't know. He disappeared when we killed the guys on that last boat." I stayed as still as I could, too aware of the cold metal of the blade that was a flick away from cutting my throat.

"You will find him, and you will kill him." Yuri warned.

Andrei snorted. "You would trust her to do that now?"

"She will, or she will be exiled."

My eyes widened. Exiled? Andrei raised an eyebrow and Dima paled. This was my home. What the hell was I supposed to do if I was exiled?

"You can't mean that." I stammered.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Yuri pressed the blade into my neck.

But this had been my plan all along, right? I was going to kill Sam, and he just left without so much as a goodbye. I couldn't be an exile. This was my home, it always has been. Sam is nothing in the face of that, right? I couldn't choose him over my clan. I scrunched my eyes shut, forcing away that stupid, forbidden seed of a feeling that I'd been harbouring. Anything for the clan.

"Well?" Yuri prompted, reminding me I had a knife to my jugular.

I opened my eyes to glare at my brother. "He's headed to the Naval base to retrieve fuel rods for the submarine. The radiation will make him untouchable there, but he'll be at the port. He wants to leave with Tom." I paused, considering my words. This could be my chance to convince Yuri to attack them. "I won't be able to get close to him on my own, but if we all attack them, I can take him out while they are distracted."

Yuri narrowed his eyes.

"The men won't let this stand, you know that." I glanced at Andrei and Dima.

They met my eyes with hard expressions.

"As much as I would hate to agree with her, she's right. I've heard them talking. They'd rather die than let them get away with what they did here." Andrei said.

I met Yuri's eyes again. "Listen to them."

After a long moment he clenched his teeth. "Fine. But if he doesn't end up dead by the end, you know what happens."

"I know. You've made that clear." I grimaced.

He dropped his knife away from my neck, and I took my first full breath in several minutes.

He turned to Andrei and Dima. "Get those fires out, salvage what we can, and start a pyre. We have an attack to discuss." He shot me a last glare and stormed out of the building. Finally. It only took the base being partly destroyed and our men dying to get him to commit.

As the others followed him, I slumped against the wall, all the fight abandoning me.

Fuck.

This was it. There would be no going back after this. Sam would either be dead, or I will be an exile on my own in this shit hole.

Or we all end up dead. I wasn't sure which of those options would be worse.