Sasha grunted. "I think I'm tired of reading my current book. I'll visit the library tomorrow. If we want to ever see the outside world again, we first need to know where we [i]are[/i]." With that, he stood. Sasha fixed a wrinkle in his t-shirt as he headed towards the door. He wasn't known for socializing, and too much of it would raise suspicion. "I'll be in my room." 

As he headed down the hall, his mind began to wander again. Sasha had far more important reasons to wish for freedom than just missing the good ol' days. It had all started with a mission in west Africa, and a woman named Althea. 

He and his men were tasked with guarding a village from group of men from a rebel militia who would have otherwise taken it over. This village was a hotspot for missionaries, and someone out there with a lot of money had a heart big enough to want to keep it safe. It wasn't the first time Sasha's unit had done this sort of thing, and it probably wouldn't be the last. They had divided up into groups that would patrol the borders of the village around the clock. Sasha remembered the distinct feeling of tension in the air, like they were walking through a mine field blindfolded. The children who ran around the village would occasionally talk to them, telling them horrific things they had seen that hardly even phased them anymore. The whole ordeal left him feeling a little sick. 

He knew their time there would be stressful, and the temptation to seek comfort among the village would be strong. Sasha had warned his men time and time again to not sleep with the locals. They all knew better than to force themselves on a woman; Sasha's unit was formed by the idea of morality in this dark profession. But it wasn't uncommon for women to approach them on their own accords, looking for men they knew had money and the means to support them. Not only that, but these types of settings were often a hotspot for disease. It was unfortunate, but true. 

Sasha had never thought that [i]he[/i] would be the one to break his own rule. But to be fair, Althea wasn't a local. She was a missionary from Nigeria. She was very educated and spoke clearer English than most of Sasha's men. To Sasha, she seemed like an angel in the midst of darkness. She had come to the village as a teacher to school the children. She treated them with patient and kindness, something they often lacked in these rough times. She made sure that the food that was available was divided evenly among her students and that they got at least one meal during the day. Sasha first spoke to her when one of her students ran off into the forest, and he was tasked with finding the boy. The boy, about 8 years old, had gotten upset over news of his sister dying and ran off to hide for a while. Sasha had found him before nightfall and brought him back to safety. Him and Althea ended up spending a few hours talking about the dire situation in the country. 

That had snowballed into something else. Sasha didn't confide his troubles and personal issues in his men very often. He was close enough to a few, like Amid or Bernard, to vent to them when he needed, but he was a leader. He couldn't risk appearing weak in times like these. It wasn't long before Althea became his outlet to vent to. They would sit, watching the sun go down, and he would go on and on about all the fucked up shit in his life. She usually had some input too. Being a missionary, she had seen her fair share of evil in the world. But yet she had this light to her; like a beacon. Sasha didn't know if his admiration could be considered love or not; he still wasn't quite sure. But it all came down to one night during the late fall when one of their talks lead to something more. 

It had only happened that one time, but that was all it took, he guessed. The guys had already packed up and moved on, their farewells said as they left the village in the hands of a new unit coming to take over. They were actually on a break in one of their safehouses when Sasha got a very alarming phone call. He had several burn phones, mostly used to communicate with employers, but one was reserved for an emergency line that his men could use to get in touch with him. He only gave the phone number to people that he could trust with his very life. He had given Althea that number; just in case. She called him a couple months after he had left Africa, letting him know that she was pregnant. 

Sasha had no idea what to do. He had never had any kids; had never even considered it. He remembered holing up in one of the rooms in the house, talking to the woman who would soon be the mother of his child for hours about their plan. Althea was very clear on being a single mother. Sasha knew the social connotations that came with this, but she, understandably, didn't want a man like him hanging around her child for too long. It hurt to hear this, that she saw him as dangerous, but she was right. If anyone ever wanted to fuck him up, where would they go first? His family. To him, that had always meant a group of ragtag mercenaries who could very easily defend themselves, but now a child was added to that list. 

Sasha told her that he would be okay with visiting, maybe once a month, but he wanted to be able to see his kid. He also didn't want that child anywhere near villages like the one he had been in, at least not until they were older. Althea agreed that she wouldn't go on any more trips until the child was old enough to be left with trusted family members. Then came the talk of child support. Obviously Sasha wasn't the kind of person someone thought of as being an A plus parent, but he did his best. They both came up with a budget, and Sasha was happy to wire money to Althea once a month to pay for hospital visits and childcare. He was sure to leave Amid with instructions for his finances in case Sasha ever died, so that Althea and his child would be taken care of. He imagined those instructions were being put into place right now.

All and all, it was worth the stress and worry the first time he visited. Althea gave birth to a healthy daughter, and Sasha was on the first flight to Nigeria he could catch to see her. Any regret he had was immediately gone when he saw the tiny bundle in Althea's arms. The baby girl was so small, a healthy seven pounds and two ounces. Althea already had a name: Kimmie. It was her grandmother's name. Sasha had stayed for two weeks, holing up in a local hotel and coming over to hold his daughter and try not to cry. Not many people knew what a big, weepy mess he could be, and nothing did it to him quicker than having to say goodbye to his daughter at the airport. Althea seemed to think of him as a friend more than the father of her child. She was very clear on not being interested in a romantic relationship, and Sasha was pretty okay with that. Whatever feelings he had towards her were kept locked away, knowing that his chances of ever having a normal family relationship were long gone. They probably never existed to begin with. 

Kimmie would be three now, and she was just getting out of the babbling stage the last time he saw her. It had been over a year since he'd seen his daughter, and he wandered if she would even remember him if he ever got the chance to see her again. He really tried not to think about; this wasn't the kind of place to show weakness, after all. His worst fear would be the sick fucks that ran this prison finding out about the biggest chink in his armor. 

Sasha sat down on the edge of his bed and picked up his book. He was too engrossed in his own thoughts to actually read it. All the talk of escape, actually collaborating with other people about it, made him think that maybe, just maybe, he would see freedom again. And with it, maybe his little girl, too. He set the book back down and sighed as he laid down on his cot.