>CLARKSBURG, WV
>JUL.20.2019
>0230...///

Clarksburg was a nice quiet little city much to Queen’s disappointment. It took him almost half an hour of driving to find a suitable seedy motel because even Fed towns had red light districts. The motel was one of those charge by the hour affairs he was so familiar with in his line of work. Borrowing Ghosts’ baseball cap and hoodie, he left Jay in his care while he went to check in. The clerk only made a passing glance at the gloves worn on a warm night and that he signed generically, Mr and Mr Smith. 

Cash was more important and an extra hundred dollars made sure they would not be disturbed. Jay paid for his own torture cell, Queen smirked to himself as he left the tiny office. The night still held sway, the spare lighting casting long dark shadows as he made his way back to the car. The truck was gone, replaced by a piece of shit no one would miss until morning. Leaning into the window, he said, “Room 116, bottom floor at the corner. Should be private enough.”

Giving Ghost his hat back, Queen opened the door to get Jay out. “Keep your mouth shut,” he reminded him, “Or we might decide we don’t need you.” 

The room was small with two full sized beds and wood panelling on the walls, a small table with cigarette burns in the veneer and a chair with mysterious stains on the seat made up the furnishings. An old tube tv was bolted in a corner, the convex glass covered in a layer of dust. The carpet and bedding were a matched shade of puke tan and avocado and it smelled like old semen and stale smoke under a recent layer of Lemon Pledge. 

Queen stepped aside so Ghost could escort their guest into the room and he shut it after, pausing to text Tex the address. “Home sweet home,” he said, sniffing and rubbing his nose, checking for blood but it was clean. 

“Look, man,” Jay swallowed, eyes darting left and right for some hope and finding none, “Whatever they’re payin’ you, we pay better. That asshole ain’t worth shit, the ginger with the scar.”

Jay didn’t make any attempt to wriggle out of his binds, he’d been trying the whole drive here and it hadn’t worked. Maybe words would. Neither of these guys looked like Feds, but neither did any of them. This one, the one with the long hair and tattoos, he looked like his ilk. “Consider it.” He said, hushed.

Queen lit a Kools, taking a deep drag of the menthol cigarette as Jay made his offer while Ghost had stepped away. "I always consider my options," he said, tilting his head up, looking down at the bound man. "The trouble is trust, my friend. Let's say I take your offer, how do I know you and yours won't just fuck me in the ass. You probably would. I know I would."

Queen smiled, his sea blue gaze lingering on Jay, "Gotta give me something, boss. To show you're not just blowing smoke."

He raised the cigarette to his lips, puffing slow and savoring the nicotine. 

“Let me get that chance, man. Loosen somethin’ on me, just say I got away and I’ll give you somethin’.” Jay said, though there was pleading in his eyes.

"Tex won't believe that." Ghost's voice was a low growl from the doorway. He'd stepped out for some air, to have a rare cigarette and cool off after the hyper-vigilance of the raids. He knew himself, knew his temper. If he went into an interrogation keyed up there was a very real chance he'd go too far and kill the asset. It had happened before. 

"Tex wouldn't believe somebody got away from me. People don't get away from me." He crossed the room to Jay, adopted a Hajj-squat in front of his chair, and removed his clear eye-pro. 

Interrogation meant intimidation. Ghost was good at that. The best at that. He knew the effect his cold brown eyes could have on a man, especially one who was powerless. Ghost found Jay's gaze and held it, falling silent and giving the man the full effect of those reptilian orbs. Then he simply let the minutes pass, allowing his unrelenting stare to do its work.  

Queen snorted and shook his head, stepping away to sit on one of the beds, letting Ghost do his thing. He found himself almost disappointed in Jay, he had been built up so much as this would be assassin, the connection to the Russians and a dangerous foe. Let Jay  go and cross his fingers he'd get paid. What an asshole. Not that Queen would ever do it but that was just insulting.

After letting Jay squirm, Queen finished his cigarette, then said, "Sorry, you ain't got good credit."

“You think nobody’s gonna be lookin’ for me? Huh, fucker?” Jay snarled in Queen’s direction, though it could be noted that he deliberately avoided looking Ghost in the face, “Y’all on borrowed time! Better get what you want outta me now ‘cuz my boys find out I’m in this place, they’ll take turns on you, pretty boy!”

He frowned, shoulders rising and dropping and eyes furious, but still never straying Ghost’s way, “See how some real white boys fight.”

"I've killed more men than you've probably met," Ghost said lightly. "Especially as white trash from a town smaller than the bases I trained on. If your friends come, they'll die too, and the world will be a little bit better for it."

He reached out and gave that dislocated shoulder a slow, firm pull. "And once I've killed them, I'll take it out on you."  

Jay yelped in Ghost’s face, almost trying to get back from his iron grip and only succeeding in squirming pitifully, “Fuck you, man, fuck y’all…”

Queen chuckled at the threats from the man tied up in the stained chair, then glanced at Ghost, "Think he'll be as stubborn as his Mama? I got twenty says he doesn't last as long as she did."

“What!?” Jay whipped his head in Queen’s direction, jaw clenched so hard he might think his teeth would break, “Bullshit!”

He looked at Queen and Ghost, and back, “Bullshit!” He barked again, “You ain’t do shit to her! Y’all have rules and laws, and shit, you can’t do shit to her!”

Queen shrugged, then grinned mischievously almost to himself. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and flipped the lid back and forth, thinking of the cocaine in his pocket. He could use some for what was coming but he waited. Queen said, "Alright, you've dealt with cops, maybe even Feds. You know the deal. We don't need a little meth bust."

There came a single knock at the door, followed by three in quick succession, and then one more. Donnelley and Jason were outside, and once Queen opened the door, Jay got another view of that smirking ginger asshole who looked at him like a child who gotten just what he wanted at Christmas. And wanted to beat the shit out of it. Donnelley stepped inside first as Jason closed the door behind him and stood next to Ghost, that same smile on him the whole time. “Hello, Jay.”

"Enjoy," Queen said, stepping over to the bathroom now that Tex had returned.

“He ask y’all to untie him or somethin’ yet?” Donnelley asked, holding Jay’s stare, “They always do. They never get it. They always [i]talk.[/i]”

Donnelley smirked down at the huge Operator on his haunches, fixing Jay with that goddamn stare of his. Ghost was the best partner he could ask for when it came to things like this. Sometimes Good Cop, Bad Cop was the way to go. Other times you needed to be the hand dangling the asset above the shark. “Don’t they, Ghost.”

"Every time," Ghost said quietly. He stood, his knees cracking like muffled gunshots in the quiet of the room. He didn't wince, didn't grunt; all he did was curse within his own head. He was getting old, and he hated it.  

Ghost walked a few steps away, turning so that Jay could watch him draw the combat knife at his belt. The razored glittered in the sickly light of the cheap motel bulbs, standing out against the matte finish of the blade. Ghost knew his part.

"So, should I take a few fingers now, to get us started?" He asked, his tone light and conversational. "Or do you want to see if he plans to cooperate first?" 

Donnelley shrugged as he crossed his sinewy forearms, “I got some common courtesy.” Donnelley said, hiking up the legs of his trousers so he could take Ghost’s place in front of Jay, squatting down and holding his gaze. He could swear Jay was shaking a little, “Tell me if this sounds familiar to you, a’right, boy?”

Donnelley frowned, eyes narrowing, “NPS Rangers Frank Wilkins and Billy Britt find a husband scared shitless out in the woods. Somewhere near, his wife is completely fuckin’ skinned. When they report it to their Supervisor, Phill Hoffman, you show up and make sure everybody knows to keep their mouths shut.” Donnelley spoke, flexing his hands in and out of tight fists, “Frank and Billy nod and go along with big, bad Jay’s hush-hush. Billy goes to town on leave, somethin’ happens, he gets robbed and killed.”

“NPS Ranger Billy Britt, one of two people who know about David and Bethany Miller, killed the second he gets too far away from Blackriver. NPS Ranger Billy Britt, the one dude in Blackriver with our calling card gets robbed and killed.” Donnelley’s brows went up, “Frank Wilkins almost gets the same until I take him under my wing, you and your boys happily givin’ me and mine some target practice. What a fuckin’ [i]coincidence.[/i]”

“The fuck’s your point, man? Y’all ‘ready know who I belong to, what’s your point.” Jay asked.

“Just like I refrained from scalpin’ your momma like a Comanche and hangin’ her from the streetlights, because she’s only the first link up the chain to what I really want,” Donnelley set his jaw and leaned in close, nose almost touching Jay’s, “Your momma gave you to me. You’re gonna give me Nikolai Gorochev, Phil Hoffman, and everybody else in Blackriver responsible for the murder, and cover-up of, Maria Vasquez.”

“Question one, Nikolai Gorochev’s daughter and her husband are going to stay at the River Valleys Retreat. Have they arrived yet?” Donnelley asked, and Jay did not answer, “Have. They. Arrived?”

Jay swallowed a mouthful of bloody spit in silence. Donnelley held his gaze for a few long moments and then nodded, grabbing the underside of the seat Jay was on and hauling him up and over, the back of Jay’s head smacking off the ground. Donnelley undid the knot keeping Jay’s hand tied and pulled his arm taut at the shoulder, resting his knee on his forearm to keep his hand on the floor, “Take a tip off his finger,” Donnelley looked to Ghost, “You choose which.”

Ghost studied the knife for a moment, letting things build. Then he knelt beside Donnelley and rested the edge of the blade against the first knuckle of Jay's pinky finger.

"He's a gangster," Ghost said. "Figure we'll start Yakuza style. See if he's as hard as those Eastern boys." 

He put his left hand against the back of the blade, then leaned on it hard, simultaneously dragging the knife back with a sharp jerk. The knuckle parted, the tip of the finger rolling free with a small rush of blood.

"Next one comes off slower."

Jay’s scream was muffled by Donnelley’s hands over his mouth, pressing down on him hard and making sure he didn’t make too much noise as his head wriggled uselessly, tears welling up in his eyes and rolling down the sides of his head. “Have they arrived, Jay?” Jay shook his head and Donnelley hauled him back up to an upright position, tying his hand back to the arm of the chair, “Thank you.”

Jason was leaning against the wall, his big frame next to the door. He was staring with grim intensity, and when Jay began to scream he casually fingered the blinds to see if anyone was in earshot. This was always messy business. He remembered a time he watched what Jordani intelligence had done to a terrorist captive, the disregard of survival and the man’s slow, agonizing descent into an unrecognizable form. Always messy business. He dare not intervene, not on account of whatever decency protested inside him. He had to keep reminding himself this man deserved it, and continued to watch silently.

“Now, when are they going to arrive? Where are they now?” Jay stayed silent, head slowly hanging, “Come on. You can tell me [i]anything[/i], Jay, I’m here for [i]you.[/i]”

Donnelley smirked, “And the longer you make this, the more creative I’ll get.”

At the first scream, Queen bent over the counter of the sink and snorted hard, clearing the line one a single take. He shuddered and shook his head, rolling his shoulders as he rubbed his nose vigorously. He twirled the rolled twenty dollar bill and began to cut another small line. No more screams but muffled voices, Tex’s voice. 

After the next hit, he staggered back, bumping against the wall and muttered, “Shit, fuck yeah.” 

Queen jumped in place like a runner warming up, his body wired up and the worry and exhaustion fled from his bones. He caught his reflection in the mirror and cursed, a trickle of blood smearing into the dark blonde beard. He washed it away and stuck a wad of toilet paper up his nose to soak it up before tossing it in the toilet. 

Queen stepped out, looking around the room with a jittery jerk of his head. “We forgot the stereo, we need some fucking music for this shit.” 

“We’ve got music,” Ghost said, nodding at Jay. He forced a grin he didn’t feel. 

Torture was boring. There was no fight, no challenge. Ghost was a warrior, not an inquisitor, and these little sessions always felt like a waste of his time. Still, he knew his role, and he played it. “I think Tex here is losing his patience, so we might get the music going again.” 

Queen looked at Ghost then over at Jay, who had blood dripping freely from one hand. He thumbed open the pack of Kools and tucked a cigarette behind his ear. 

The micro uzi was now half hidden in the waistband of his tactical pants covered by the Molly Hatchet t-shirt. He didn't care to stand around and watch that asshole get chopped up. Tex would brief them on anything important he found out, it wasn't his case anyway.

"Hands bleed so much," he commented, then said to Tex, "Hey, I'm gonna keep an eye out on the parking lot."

He turned his attention towards Jason against the wall watching the interrogation. The big man's expression told him what he needed to know.

[I]"¿Oye mano, vamos a hanguiar un rato?"[/I] Queen suggested, jerking his chin towards the door, "Wanna take a look with me?"

“I think we should all take a break.” Donnelley sucked his teeth, just as his phone began to ring. He dug the vibrating thing out of his pocket and saw who it was, Laine. He looked back to Jay, pitifully bleeding in his seat. This’d take time, time he wasn’t sure they had before Nikolai’s daughter could slip beyond their grasp. “How does that sound, Jay? We can all just have ourselves a minute.”

[hr]

>DAYS INN
>0330...///

“You gonna be a good boy for me, Jay?” Donnelley eyed the man in the back seat, trussed up like a buck. His furious eyes met with Donnelley’s smiling ones as he pushed the door open and left Jay alone in the back of the truck. With his feet on concrete in the parking lot of yet another hotel, he reached up toward the sky, growling with the effort of the stretch before taking a drag from his cigarette and sending it off into the night with a flick of his fingers.

It was all business from here. He knew the tone in Laine’s voice from countless arguments in the past with another woman. He took a deep breath as he checked his phone for the room numbers, finding his way there through hallways, leaving the rest of the team to deal with the mess of a man they’d turned Jay into. He didn’t even give the man at the welcome desk a glance as he passed. He had bridges to mend. When he finally got to the door, his knuckles rapped sharply against them, stepping back and waiting for whoever would answer.

The knock brought Laine out of her thoughts, the file spilling out of her lap as she stood up from the bed. Checking her weapon still tucked into her shoulder holster, she glanced at Dave and Avery. "That sounded like his knock," she said, though as Laine approached the door she kept from standing directly in front of it. 

Ava lifted her head from her laptop, glancing over at the door as the knock sounded. Her heart immediately began to beat quicker, her stomach flipping with anxiety as she eyed the door. She shut her laptop and stood up from the bed, inching herself further from the door.

The knocking came again, more incessant this time and Avery took the risk of peering through the hole. “It’s Donnelley-“

“Yes, it’s Donnelley, open the goddamn door.” Came his voice from the other side as Avery opened it.

“Hey, boss.” Avery said, looking the other man up and down.

“Hey,” Donnelley smiled, looking into the room at the others, “Y’all alright?”

Ava relaxed when the door opened to reveal Donnelley. She smiled, it was a small one filled with exhaustion, but a smile nonetheless. The red scratch marks over her eyes had dulled to a less jarring pink, though they still stood out against her pale skin. “Hey,” She said softly with a small wave of her hand. “I’m...okay.” 

"Peachy," Laine said, moving away from the door to allow him inside. She looked at him in silence for a beat then continued, "We're alive. Did you get anything useful from Jay or was that his answer?"

She gestured to a few drops of blood splattered on the cuff of his jeans. He stepped back, shuffling that foot back an inch and sighing, “We got Jay.” 

Dave’s blue eyes flashed a cold light, and he grinned. “Hell yeah. Y’all come out of it alright? Nobody got hurt or nothin’?” 

“Nobody that didn’t need to.” Donnelley flashed a fleeting grin to Dave. His enthusiasm for gunfights and violence wavered in the face of Laine, and how any of these faces could have not been here when he got back. “What about y’all? Can’t have been an easy thing.” He said, knowing it wasn’t easy when he had to do it, “Looks like you came out the other side though.”

“We did.” Ava nodded, fiddling with the sleeve of the flannel shirt she borrowed from Dave so she wouldn’t touch her eyes. The news of Jay’s capture got her heart racing again, her mind going to the bullet still inside of her abdomen. “Where, uh, are the others?”

Donnelley thrust his thumb over his shoulder, “Outside with Jay.” The longer he looked, the more he could see the pink lines over her face, feeling something sink in his gut. While they were out tweaking, running guns, and blowing up meth labs, his people were hunted. “I’m glad y’all made it. I’m,” he glanced towards Laine and cleared his throat, looking towards Dave, Avery, and Ava, “I wish I could’ve been there.”

“We managed,” Dave shrugged and gave Ava a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Me an’ Avery got the security locked down, man. A-Team, right Avery?” He grinned at the other man. True to form, Dave still wore his flak, and his AK was slung around his neck. 

“Hell yeah.” Avery gave a weak chuckle, looking to Dave and back to Donnelley. He still had his Remington in his fist and his Glock tucked in his waist, “Not bad for a PsyOps dude, huh.”

“Not bad at all.” Donnelley nodded. He felt like he couldn’t feel more sheepish if he’d been wringing his hands and pouting in front of all of them. These were newbies, not yet knowing the very real rigors of working for the Program, and being absent from that trial by fire left him feeling like a weak leader. “About Renko…” he looked to Laine.

“About Renko,” she echoed then pressed her lips into a fine line. “He showed up on our doorstep trailing a...”

Laine paused, not wanting to bring up the horror that had entered their world. She shrugged, “He brought something with him and I’m pretty sure you know what it was. The fact there’s even Russian spies watching us was a surprise. He left after it was over and basically said he owed us for helping. He gave us some information about a MacOnie.”

Laine looked at Ava, then back at Donnelley as she chewed the inside of her lip, digging in hard before crossing her arms under her chest. “Anyway, that’s what happened. I didn’t have time to interrogate him and I wasn’t going to force him to stay. So if we fucked up according to spy versus spy games, then I’ll take the responsibility.” 

Donnelley sighed, “No, no. You did fine.” He said,taking a couple steps into the room and sinking into a chair, almost immediately feeling the weight of the night in his bones. He didn’t want to get up, “So he barges in, has you banish a demon, and tells you about ‘a MacOnie.’”

He clucked his tongue, “Sounds pretty extenuating.” He eyed Dave and Avery’s weaponry and armor, giving them a smirk, “They just let y’all in like that?”

"Something like that, all in a night's work, you know," Laine said, then gave a smile that did not touch her eyes. "Oh, we took a little precaution, signed in as different couples. Dave and Ava on a honeymoon, I'm robbing the cradle with Avery. Fake names and the whole thing. Smuggled in the weapons, funny how no one really pays attention at two AM."

“Ain’t it?” Donnelley snorted.

“Helps when you got pretty women doin’ the talkin’,” Dave grinned. “I didn’t go near the window, just stood there by the truck holdin’ our bags and gave ‘im a wave.”  

Another knock, the classic 'shave and a haircut, two bits' secret knock and a voice, a high pitched falsetto with a thick Spanish accent,  "Housekeeping, you need towel? You want mint for pillow?"

“Door’s unlocked, slut.” Donnelley’s voice rose, waiting for Queen to come in.

The voice came again, "You want blow job? ¡Ay Dios!"

The door popped open and Queen stepped in, a big grin on his face and his eyes danced. He looked over at the group, noticing the weariness on their faces. The storm gathering in Laine's expression and he quickly decided not to mess with her, turning to Ava with a bright smile. 

He ignored the presence of Dave and his big dumb flannel on the young woman. Might as well have his class ring on her neck. Queen smirked to himself until he noticed the scratches on her face. Self inflicted, he guessed, his brow furrowing for a moment before the chemicals swept away the concern. 

"Angel! Your information was on point," Queen announced, flashing her a wolfish grin. "Wanna see the big fish we caught? Don't worry, he's still squirming."

Ava returned Queen’s smile, his arrival snapping her out of the silence her thoughts had swallowed her into. “Oh, that’s good. I’ve actually been sifting through the data you sent and found some interesting information so thank you for that.” 

She hesitated for a moment at the mention of seeing Jay. She was surprised to find that she did, a morbidly curious side of her that wanted to see the man that tried to kill them and she had dedicated hours digging into the life of. 

There was still that part of her tugging her back though, making her hesitate. A part of her that realized she was crossing a line from being a disconnected observer, to being an active participant in the darker side of Program fieldwork.

She turned her gaze to Donnelley, her brow furrowing as she asked, “Is...Is that okay?”

Donnelley opened his mouth, but the words first to his lips didn’t leave. He wanted to say ‘only if it’s okay with you,’ but he knew now more concretely than ever that the training wheels and handholding had to come off at some point. They’d faced down the evil in the world, true malevolence, just like he had a full five times in his life. “Go.” He nodded, tilting his head at the door. “Everybody.”

Laine held back, glancing at Donnelley, "I'm sure I'll get to see him soon, if we're questioning him."

The unspoken remainder of the sentence was a flash of her green eyes at the blood splatter on the cuff of his jeans. 

Queen grinned with delight, then offered Ava his arm in a playful southern gentleman manner. "Do me the honor?" 

Dave put a hand on Ava's shoulder and gave it a squeeze, a hard stare fixed on Queen. He was fully aware of the insult the man was paying him by acting like he wasn't even there. 

"C'mon sugar, let's take a look at our boogeyman," he gave her a tight smile. "See he ain't all we built him up to be." 

Ava looked up between the two men, sensing a note of tension in the air between the two of them. “Um, yeah, we can, all of us.” She said, smiling nervously up at them in hopes of diffusing the stress mounting.

She patted Dave’s hand on her shoulder and awkwardly hooked her arm with Queen’s. 

Queen grinned, a flash of challenge in his seawater eyes towards Dave as he looked over Ava's head. "Wait til you hear how we finally got him," he said, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. "It all started with a squeak toy."

Dave rolled his eyes but followed along, gripping his rifle tightly to keep from clenching his fists. Queen hadn’t been back ten minutes and Dave found himself inexplicably driven to punch the man. It wasn’t his usual MO, but it had been a real bastard of a night and his nerves were raw. He fell in behind Queen and Ava and briefly entertained himself with the mental image of his buttstock meeting the back of the raggedy bastard’s head. 

Queen held Ava close as he chattered about the wild hunt, leaving out the more gruesome aspects. He joked about the scaring the guard dog after he fired. "I aimed just to the side, he tucked that stump tail and ran," he chuckled, then dusted over the death of Jay's mother, her role in giving up her son wrought from a mother's fear for his life. He lied easily, making a light adventure of what had been a grisly job. 

The story concluded as they approached the car, he said with a more serious tone, "Then we found the..."

He hesitated, then released Ava's arm reluctantly as Ghost's close observation was not something he wanted. He held up a room card instead, "107 is our room, we should take our boy in there," Queen said, flipping the swipe card between his fingers with a well practiced gesture.

Ghost watched the trio approach, his reptile-eyes moving lazily from one to the other as he leaned against the car. He noted how cozy Queen seemed to be getting with the little redhead, and how the hick seemed to want to put a manure-shovel through his brain, and bit back a frustrated grumble. The sight of the keycard made him take a quick look around; he’d tossed his rifle in the trunk and put a light jacket on over his flak. His pistol still rode at his thigh, but it was dark, and at a distance he figured people were less likely to notice it. 

“You bring your friends to gawk at the animal?” Ghost said. “Doesn’t take this many people to walk a meth-head up some stairs.”

Ava shrunk back towards Dave, partially from Ghost’s words, but her eyes were glued to the car. Her heart was beating quicker as her stomach curled with anxiety. The entire walk from the hotel room she had only half listened to Queen as her mind focused on edging closer to that line.

She crossed her arms over her chest, her fingers digging into the thick fabric of the flannel sleeve. Avery stepped around her, seemingly ignoring Ghost save for a sidelong glance cast his way. He peered into the dark windows of the SUV and laid eyes on Jay. His lips pursed and he turned away, clearing his throat as he sided back up with Dave.

“Well, uh,” Avery scratched the back of his neck and looked around at his teammates standing around, “Let’s get him inside, I guess.”

[hr]

With the absence of the rest of the team the air between Donnelley and Laine grew thick with a litany of unspoken things. A pregnant silence hung over Donnelley’s shoulders as he and Laine looked at each other, a recurring theme of tension and hotel rooms playing out yet again. He looked to the closed door and then nodded to Laine.

 “I hope everything went well on your man hunt and there was no [i]unavoidable[/i] deaths,” her voice had a higher pitch than normal, a razor of sarcasm under the concern. Laine hated the sound as it reminded her of her mother when she was about to launch into a passive aggressive diatribe. 

She cleared her throat, speaking in a more even tone,  "We can step inside the room next door, if you want."

Donnelley nodded, gesturing to the door in question, “No.” Donnelley said, one part of him not wanting to get up and the other part of him wanting it straight from Laine without any sort of waiting. “Just talk to me.”

Laine took a deep breath, her hands resting on her hips as she turned to him. The anger had been building since the flight from the Safehouse now looking at Donnelley, he became a focus for her fear and uncertainty.

"So, apparently the Russian intelligence knows we're here, despite changing our Safehouse location at the last minute," Laine walked around, pacing back and forth. "That thing...shit, Ava nearly clawed her eyes out, and Avery was damn near catatonic afterwards. Dave held it together, thankfully. Without his cool head you'd have more dead agents."

“I don’t blame them.” Donnelley said quietly, sighing as he leaned forward and rubbed at his face. He looked at Laine and cut to the chase, speaking the words into the dangerous space between them, “I’m sorry.”

The silence persisted like it always did with Laine. Tugging more and more out of him, “You did everything right, Laine. It wasn’t all Dave, I’m sure. You were there too.” He said consolingly, trying to bridge that gap again, mend the bridge, “You’re all alive, that’s what matters.”

Laine rolled her jaw, glancing aside. Damn him. She wanted to be angry, to rid that demon of fear and helplessness against the man who was responsible for them. “I was there, but I couldn’t look,” Laine said, turning back to him. “I’ve never been too afraid to witness but I was. I needed you there, we needed you. We’re not secret agents, we’re not fucking ghost busters or exorcists. We’re analysts, and Dave is just a civilian, a skilled one but...”

She dropped her hands, then looked at him in silence for a long moment, “You should have been there. Those men, your old team, could have found Jay, you didn’t need to go, did you?”

“I did. It’s our case, not theirs, and I needed to be in that position with them.” Donnelley tried to make his tone seem less matter of fact, but to him it was just valid. The truth. A hard pill, but he’d had to swallow several. “You know that. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Jason was there, he knows how to handle himself in that situation,” she said, “You went because that’s fun, that’s not sitting in a hotel and going over files with the nerds.”

Laine bit her tongue after it slipped out and she felt her face flush, resentment that had built up over the hours flooded out. 

Donnelley pursed his lips, almost hurt by the accusation of abandoning his team to go party with his friends and kick a few doors in. “That’s my job, Laine. I do it for the Agency and I do it for the Program, that’s always been my job.” Donnelley sighed, sitting back in the chair and looking away from Laine, feeling the shell start to harden around not only her, but himself. “I ain’t gonna pretend like kickin’ doors hasn’t been what I’ve been doin’ my whole life.”

“But don’t you pretend like I don’t care a shit about you,” Donnelley stood, letting that hang in the air for a few moments before he continued, “Like I don’t care about everybody on this team. I already lost two people. One’s in fuckin’ therapy for I don’t know how long and the other two ain’t ever comin’ back.”

“If you’re askin’ me if I regret not bein’ there during that, the whole thing at the safehouse, then yes. I almost lost you once already on the goddamn first day.” He said, sharing Laine’s glare, “But if you’re asking me if I think I’m too much of a hotshot cowboy that’s too high-speed for paperwork?”

“Don’t you fuckin’ insult me like that.” He said, slowly shaking his head, “I can’t be everywhere. Sooner or later, UMBRA is going to have to be able to work without me being over your shoulder. That’s the fact of it. I wasn’t there for Jason, I was there for oversight.”

“And I know for damn sure this ain’t all about me not doin’ any damn paperwork…” Donnelley sighed.

Laine tensed, wanting to fight, wanting to scream the tension out of her chest that had grown since Renko's appearance. "Of course it's not about damn paperwork, it's about Russians with interdementional evil guard dogs they can sic on anyone they want to get rid of and there is fuck all we can do about it."

She ran her hand through her short dark hair, leaving it partially ruffled and sticking out. "I can't help, I don't understand it even when it's right in my face. Ava, she almost clawed her eyes out because the thing projected itself or something into her mind moments before it materialized in the living room of the goddamn Safehouse. How do I help her? It's all in your head, kid? It's not and I don't..."

Her voice, already raspy with emotion, cracked. "Avery, the kid was in severe shock, I honestly am worried he might hurt himself because of what he saw. Dave said it was similar to what he saw in the mountains."

She crossed her arms tight under her chest, drawing inward, "I didn't see it. I refused the look, I was afraid. Donnelley, I was so fucking afraid to look."

Donnelley took a tentative step towards Laine, offering her a look of sympathy and understanding. She was right, they were new, and there are damn few people in the world that could stand a chance against whatever he saw on that ship with THUNDER and what they all saw in the Safehouse. 

“I know.” He offered, stopping just in front of her with a hand reaching out, but stopping just short, “I know. You think I’m not scared everyday? I saw it too, and Jesus fuck, it scares the shit out of me every time I manage to go to sleep.”

Laine shook her head, "I've never been able to not face what I needed to, I've never been a coward unable to look into the darkness. But fuck, the darkness is looking back and it has teeth."

She looked up at him, meeting his gaze then said softly, "Goddamnit, I wanted to be angry at you. I want to blame you for not being there and it's not fair. I'm sorry."

Laine let her hands slip, rubbing her arms as if suddenly cold. "I shouldn't put it on you that burden. I know you already carry so much."

“I know, I wish I was there, Laine.” Donnelley nodded ever so slightly, keeping his eyes on Laine before he tried at a small smirk, “I’ll let you slap me, if you’d like.”

Laine pressed her lips together tight, this time trying not to smile, "Stop it. I want to be mad otherwise I'll curl up in a ball and cry." 

His offer made her breath hitch, halfway between a laugh and a sob. She made to reach her hand back in an exaggerated wind up, but she checked her blow at the last moment. She let it land against the scarred side of his face, a firm caress rather than a slap. Laine cupped his cheek, not trusting herself to speak.

Donnelley went as far as to close his eyes and offer his jaw out, but was taken by surprise when her hand fell into a caress along the scar marring the side of his cheek. He opened his eyes and looked into Laine’s green gaze, the tension in the air turning lighter before he leaned forward and planted his lips on hers, savoring the moment.

She returned his kiss, closing her eyes and leaned into him, the tension in her shoulders starting to relax. Laine broke the kiss to take a breath, leaning her forehead to his. A dozen questions about Jay and Renko ran through her mind but she held back. 

Her body now pressed against him, she murmured, "You always know how to disarm me. I was going to really tear into you."

“Yeah, I’m sure of that.” Donnelley chuckled and kissed her forehead, “I’m promising you that’s the last time any of you get caught up like that. I’m sorry.”

Laine sighed, pulling back enough to look at him. "You can't promise that."

A small teasing smile flickered on her face as she finished the statement, "Mr Donnelley."

“I can promise I’ll try to keep it.” He chuckled as she called him by his formal title, a sure way to get a rise out of him, “Don’t go temptin’ me now, I might not be able to resist those charms of yours, Doctor.”

Laine gave his cheek a pat, slipping her hand down to his shoulder, "Then I better not tempt you too much, the night isn't over yet."

Reality settled back around them and she let him go, reaching up to smooth her hair down. "How do you want to proceed?"

“You lead with Jason. I’ll be there, but I think the fact I beat his ass wouldn’t be the best rapport to go off of.” Donnelley frowned and shrugged, “‘Less that’s too crazy an idea.”

"Probably not," she agreed, then gave him a coy smile, "Look at you, not going to the power drill right away."

She sat on the end of a bed, looking up at him, "Do we even try pretending anything is official, like his Miranda or is that already not an option?"

“We’ve been going under the official cover of being Feds after the Russians. Best we keep it that way, I want him to have some hope he’s getting out of this.” Donnelley smirked, “I’m a merciful God.”

Laine smoothed the comforter under her hands, "Hope is what will get him to be honest. Because he's in a bad place, ratting out any mob is a death sentence let alone one that could send an assassin like the thing after Renko."

She glanced up at him, "I know you want revenge on Jay,  I can't say that I wouldn't mind you giving him a few smacks but this is the best way."

“You trust me that I know when it’s time to stop playing games and put my nose to the grinder.” Donnelley nodded, placing his hands on his waist, “My guys in the Agency know, and some IS dudes in Guantanamo and shallow graves are proof. Jay’ll talk.”

Laine bit her lower lip and nodded, glancing away from him, "You certainly know how to do that."

Donnelley furrowed his brow and sighed, “I meant to say that you’re right. It’s not all like that.” He pursed his lips, sitting down next to her, “We’ll take our time, do things right.”

Laine looked at him, putting her hand over his with a squeeze of solidarity and something more personal. 

[hr]

>THIRTY MINUTES LATER...///

Jay sat alone in the hotel room, a lot nicer than the one they’d had him in near McMecken’s Run and the clubhouse. His mind flashed back there, wondering if Bobby or Candy were still alive, wondering if his mother was okay. Even her asshole boyfriend, Chuck. Fuckin’ Chuck. Fuck Chuck, he snorted at his own humor in the still air of the room before it got a lot more weighty with the sound of the door opening.

And who would be standing in the doorway and closing the door behind him than that fucking asshole Gorochev wanted him to kill. He should’ve just shot him on the porch of that cabin and been done with it...

Donnelley looked Jay up and down, still unimpressed with this hillbilly assassin crime-boss. Jay looked at him with that same bane in his eyes, like if he concentrated hard enough, Jay could do what Taliban, Chechen militia, ISIS, and a shitload of West Texas tweakers couldn’t. And so Donnelley donned that smirk he always had and made a few kissy-faces at Jay. “You ain’t scarin’ shit with that mean mug, boy.”

“Fuck you.” Jay growled.

“Mhm.” Donnelley chuckled, looking behind him as the door opened and shut again.

In the time it took to get Jay settled, Laine put herself together. Changing her jeans and t-shirt to slacks and a button down blouse, her hair now neat and glasses perched on her nose. She held a folder in her hand and stepped into the room. 

She looked at Donnelley over Jay's head, then down at the man, "Mr Jackson Mitterick, aka Jay. Aka the man with attempted murder of federal agents charges among many others hanging over his head. Just a reminder, you have the right to remain silent but I would suggest that you talk to us."

Jay eyed Laine up, a smirk growing at the corners of his lips, before it vanished with the appearance of Donnelley’s firm hand on his shoulder, “Please talk, Jay.” Donnelley said, hand giving Jay’s shoulder a friendly squeeze, “We need what you know.”

“Please don’t. I’m bored. Gouging some answers out of you might be the only thing I get to do for a while.” Ghost’s harsh growl announced his presence as he exited the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind him. He’d shed his hoodie and armor, and wore only a white wifebeater with his tactical pants. 

The pale fabric accentuated his tanned skin, and clung to the hard ridges of his hulking frame. The operator tanned regularly, in the sun when he could, in tanning beds when he had to. There was a bodybuilding maxim: the darker the tan, the bigger the man. It added definition to his vicious musculature, and he liked the way the pale scars that covered his body stood out. Many of those scars were visible now, divots and lines that told a violent story.

 He walked to the other side of the room, passing between Laine and Jay to lean against the wall next to the door. Anybody coming in would be immediately faced with a very unhappy doorman. 

“Me and Ghost’re gettin’ bored, man.” Donnelley said, looking at Ghost with a small smirk before patting Jay on the back of the head with a little more force than he needed. He sided up with Ghost and crossed his arms, “Whichever way this goes, Jay, we’re gettin’ answers. Please answer the nice lady’s questions.”

“Should I take my shirt off too?” He turned his head and mumbled to Ghost, a smirk barely hidden on his lips.

Ghost gave him a sideways look. “You’re too small, leave it on,” he grunted. “You wanna take your shirt off and be scary, start lifting with me.”

“Hell yeah,” Donnelley nodded, “Try to schedule in some sessions after my Hot Yoga.”

Laine watched Jay as the other men spoke, only allowing a brief moment to take in the detail of Ghost's muscular arms and shoulders as he passed her field of vision. She tapped the folder against her palm, then spoke to the prisoner. 

"We need what you know about the Russians and about murdered girls in Blackriver," Laine continued, "Please understand, I'm here to help you but only if you help us. You're a liability for the Russians now and I think you know what that means, Jackson. Start from the beginning."

Holding the mic outward so it would pick up the voice of Jay, Laine started the recording. Jay nodded, knowing what would be coming to him if he didn’t do what Laine said. His eyes grew distant as he opened his mouth and let go of the things he remembered.

[hr]

Donnelley rapped his knuckles on the door to the ladies’ room. Laine and Ghost were working Jay over, so he figured he was in good hands for the time being. The news about Ava concerned him, how she had taken the coming of the otherworldly beast the hardest, next to Avery. The younger man was next on his list. He waited for the door to open, mulling over how to or even if he should broach the subject of the Hound with Ava so soon.

A few moments ticked by before Ava opened the door, one of her hands tucked slightly behind her, her tired eyes peering up at Donnelley from behind her glasses. She managed to muster up a smile for him, the pink scratch marks on her face still visible against her pale skin. “Hi Donnelley, is everything alright?” 

“Just peachy.” Donnelley have a smile that reached his own eyes, red from exhaustion as well, “I’m makin’ the rounds, wanna make sure all my best friends are alright.”

He hung about in the doorway, scratching the back of his hand, “Got a moment for me?”

“Of course.” She nodded, stepping back from the door and opening it wider so he could come inside. “I finished going through that stuff Queen sent me so I have some information for you.” She said, her hand moving forward from behind her back to reveal the pistol she had been hiding. She flipped the safety on as she turned to walk over to the small sitting area in the room. Just a small sofa that was tinged slightly yellow and looked more comfortable than it was, seated in front of a low coffee table with Ava’s laptop resting on top of it and a paper coffee cup.

Donnelley stepped inside, closing the door behind himself and eyed the gun. She was learning, getting used to how dangerous this life was for Working Groups in the field. He didn’t know if he liked that, but in the end, he didn’t like how most of the things in his life had went. He sat down on the edge of one of the beds, “Go on, what you got for me?”

“I have the names of three of Jay’s closer associates and was able to dig up their criminal records; all linked to the Aryan Brotherhood. Gary ‘Sly’ Bruster, Hubert ‘Clovers’ O’Grady, Clemence ‘Big Clem’ Jackson.” Ava said, sitting down on the couch and setting her handgun down on the coffee table. “Text messages gave me info on their personal lives, one of them has a son in Juvy and I’ve got addresses for each of them, but I don’t know how current they are.” She pulled one of the musty throw pillows into her lap and wrapped her arms loosely over it.

“And, I found something disturbing in the texts.” She added, looking over to him with a disquiet frown. “The Russian’s gave Jay and by extension Jay gave them, a group of ‘creepy’ children.”

Donnelley’s brow furrowed at Ava’s words, the image of the child sitting alone in that dark meth-house room. She had said children, so there was more than just her. “What did they say about the children?”

“Not much.” Ava answered, her frown deepening. “They didn’t even seem to know why they were given these kids. Just that they were from Jay and Jay got them from the Russian’s with no explanation. They didn’t sound like they wanted the kids either, there was talk about just turning them over to CPS, but they were afraid of retaliation from Jay. They also expressed being creeped or weirded out by the children, but they never specified what made them creepy. It seems like each of those associates were put in charge of at least one or more.”

She squeezed her arms tighter around the pillow. “Those poor kids.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for them. Get with Queen and have him track down those fuckin’ assholes.” Donnelley said, shaking his head slow as he rubbed his beard, “Maybe we’ll find those kids. Sound good?”

“I hope so.” Ava said, her brows knitting together in concern. “I’d hate to think of them going through what Maria did.” She said with a shudder crawling up her back. 

“Yeah.” Donnelley nodded, eyes growing distant and the moment growing quiet. Remembering finding Maria for the first time. Learning her name and seeing her picture, getting to know her as she was… “How are you holding up, Ava?” He asked, almost trying too hard to move things away from Maria and the things done to her.

Ava glanced over to him at the question and then looked away, pulling the pillow tighter against her chest. “I’m...alright, I guess.” She answered, her voice growing quieter than usual. “I’m alive.”

Donnelley rolled his jaw and nodded in agreement, eyes focused but soft on Ava’s own, though she didn’t hold his gaze. Her eyes were distant, and the scratch marks were faded, the anger guttering but still smoldering pink. “You remember our conversation in the restaurant? When it was just you and me?”

“Yeah,” She breathed out, tearing her eyes away from the point in space she was staring at to look back over at him. “I do.” She tried to pull her lips into a ghost of a smile. “About not being alone, right?”

Donnelley added his own smile, hopibg to strengthen hers. He checked his watch and sucked his teeth, “Yeah.” He said, looking back at Ava, “It’s not just you that’s still alive. We all are, and come a few hours, there’ll be another sunrise for all of us to wake up to.”

“I don’t know about Agent Whoever that was supervising you in Logistics, but…” He chuckled, “If I say I got an open-door policy, you best believe I got one. You ever wanna talk, yell at me, discuss the plan… or, hell, just cry. I know I done a lot of it. Ain’t ashamed of it neither.”

He breathed a laugh at himself and scratched at his beard, “Point is, you can come to me. Or any of us.” He said, “Whatever you saw there, Ava, I’ll be standin’ my ground and grittin’ my teeth next to you if it shows up again.”

Ava grew quiet, her eyes dropping down as her smile faded. “Can...Can I talk to you about something? Right now?” She asked, lifting her eyes back up to his; a dark shadow creeping over her bright blue gaze.

Donnelley’s smile drooped a bit as he nodded, leaning forward and knitting his fingers together in front of him, noticing the trouble on Ava’s brow, “Anything.”

Ava took in a deep breath, her hands starting to tremble as they gripped onto the pillow. “I...I saw the Hound, before it came.” She said, her voice surprisingly steady even though there was a tremor in her hands. “And-and I don’t know what that means because it’s...not the first time.”

Donnelley’s brows furrowed just the slightest as he listened to Ava. This was the first time he’d ever heard of that from her, “It’s happened before this?”

“Kind of? I was asleep at the time but I think it counts.” She said, sniffing slightly as she blinked her eyes to keep back the tears that were gathering. “It was how I was recruited into the Program, back when I worked in the CIA. I had an...episode, where I had nightmares of…” She paused as her voice caught for a moment.

“I’m not goin’ to force you.” Donnelley said, clearing his throat and looking to the side for a moment, “Who knows about this?”

“Foster.” She answered immediately, rubbing her sleeve across her nose; then immediately looking down at it guiltily. “He’s, um, he said he told them to recruit me...because of the dreams.”

Donnelley leaned back and sighed hard, looking away from Ava. Foster knows, he thought, and nobody else but who he told about it. That included damn near everyone, and that included him. He nodded sharp at that, looking back at Ava, “Okay.” He said, letting the moment quiet down and unintentionally putting some weight between him and Ava, “If you need anything else, I’m always around. You have my number too.”

He smiled, levering himself up with his hands on his knees. He stretched his arms out to the side and dropped them at his hips, yawning, “I’m damn beat.” He chuckled, “Try to get some rest, okay? I know it’s hard, but…”

He shifted on his feet, “Maria still needs justice.”

“I know.” She nodded, looking down at her laptop. “...Do you know what it means?” She asked, looking back up at him, her eyes searching and hoping for answers. “Why I’m seeing these things?”

He looked back at Ava, sitting on the bed and alone. Her words reflected ones he’d heard years and years ago, a younger Donnelley giving the same answer, and just as helpful. A set of words he’d been saying more and more these days. He looked down at the ground and muttered almost helplessly, “I don’t know.”

He stood there for a few long, painful moments, wanting to do something. But there was nothing he could do for the wounds Ava had now. He swallowed hard, stepping towards her and sitting next to her as she stared down at the ground. “I’m sorry.” He said, letting those useless words dissipate on the stagnant air.

Ava’s lip trembled as she reached up and took off her glasses, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. She opened her mouth to say something, before shutting it when the words got caught in her throat. She took in a deep breath and let herself lean against his arm.

Donnelley looked down at her, only able to see the top of her head, but knowing there was a procession of tears down her cheeks. He reached over her and gently placed his hand on her shoulder, “It’s okay,” he offered, “It’s okay.”