LEO
===============
21/04/2003
Phoenix, Arizona
Redhawk Base
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"Somebody needs to get me to Alto now!" I yell, frantically pacing around North's office with my hair gripped between my fingers.

"Hendrix, for fucks sake! Calm down-"

"I can't fucking 'calm down'. Do you even know how much goddamn trouble she could be in?" I hiss, slamming my hands against his desk.

Miles is glaring at me from the corner of his eye as though I'm clinically insane.

He probably isn't even that far off the truth at this point.

"She's at her goddamn base, Hendrix! Nothings going to get solved by you throwing a fucking riot!" North seethes.

"And when was the last time being at base kept anybody safe? Jed Nolan waltzed around base and was against us the whole fucking time!"

"Hendrix, please. You're giving me a fucking headache," he pinches the bridge of his nose, signature vein bulging above his eyebrow.

"Give me the address of Silverwing and I'll leave with Marcus," I growl.

"You ain't going nowhere until I fucking say you are! Shields can look after her damn self!"

I know I'm defeated. At the end of the day, North always has the final call. My eyes twitch as I take a few deep breaths.

He's right, she can protect herself. But I want to protect her.

And I really fucking want to see her.

"When did this information come out?" Miles asks, much calmer than I am right now.

"It got passed over to us at about 1am,"

"How in the damn fuck did he get back into the States?" I hiss.

"Fake passport, most probably," North groans.

"So how exactly do we know it's him?" Miles tilts his head.

North doesn't reply, just turns his laptop to face us. It's a picture of a driving license, with none other than his face on it.

Only, he looks much younger.

———————————
NAME:
SHIELDS,
NICHOLAS HARVEY

DOB
07/01/1969
——————————

As Miles and I analyse the picture, it all starts to make sense to me.

That bastard is too damn smart. He couldn't have dropped this by mistake, just accidentally left it behind somewhere. He wouldn't slip up like this.

My gaze travels down to the expiry date.

07/07/1996

"Where was it found?" Miles asks quietly, diverting his gaze from the photograph.

"McAllen airport, Texas," North grumbles.

Texas is the next state across from New Mexico.

"He planted it," I murmur, North nods in agreement with my statement.

"There's no way in goddamn hell this is his actual current license. For one, he's been in the Philippines for fuck knows how long. Also, how fucking young he looks. Licenses usually expire after what, eight years? There's no other reason for him to be carrying an expired license of seven years around." I growl.

He wants us to know he's here.

"How did we obtain this?" Miles asks.

"His actual name is on the wanted individuals list. He's a fucking terrorist, after all. Jesus Christ, I thought after 9/11 they'd stepped up the security game. Apparently fucking not in Texas!" North seethes before continuing.

"Once they found the license and it went unclaimed, they decided to try and get in contact with its owner. That's when it got flagged, as soon as they read the goddamn name."

"And how long can an item such as a license go unclaimed before they contact its owner?" Miles questions, calmly as ever.

"According to McAllen airport, they usually leave it about two weeks before attempting contact-"

"-so he's been in the States for two fucking weeks?" I yell, shooting back up from my chair.

"Sit down and shut your goddamn mouth! I swear to God Hendrix, I'm this close to removing you from the discussion!" North bellows, squeezing his fingers together.

I can't afford to miss out on this discussion, so I slowly lower myself back into the seat.

"How are we even meant to track him down? Obviously there's CCTV, but we can't flag him on every fucking camera in the US," I mumble.

We're left in silence for a few moments.

"I don't know, Hendrix. That's not up to us, we aren't an intel group," he sighs.

I don't feel comfortable knowing that bastard is out, roaming the streets of the States with his goddamn vendetta and malicious intents.

She isn't safe. Anybody who comes across him isn't safe. Just like North said, he is a fucking terrorist.

"I'm fucking begging you. I need to get to Silverwing," I plead.

He ignores me, glancing at Miles for a moment. "Quinn, you're excused, I need to talk with Hendrix alone for a moment."

Miles pushes up to his feet and nods, exiting the office.

North scrunches his eyes for a moment before opening them wide, blinking a few times as his gaze meets mine.

"What's gotten into you lately, Hendrix? Any minor updates about the Falcons and you've been behaving like a lunatic," he sighs.

I have no answer. I can't admit the real reason. I've been using my camaraderie with Yamato as an excuse for most things.

I know for a fact he's co-captain along with Nova. He's the closest thing I can get to her at the minute without making it blatantly obvious.

It's been hard enough to keep it under the radar as it is. The only person who is even aware of it is Tara.

"Because I can't talk to Yamato, I like to make sure he's keeping up alright," I shrug.

North takes a deep breath before strolling around to my side of the desk, sitting beside me and laying a wrinkled hand on my shoulder.

"Listen, son. If there's something you have to tell me about yourself, you know I'll understand," he speaks calmly, patting my shoulder.

What the fuck?

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you have been very damn worried about Yamato. You also spent lots of time with him in Panay. Don't get me wrong, you piss me the fuck off at times, but I'll support you."

Jesus Christ.

If anyone's ever got the wrong end of the stick, it's North right now.

"It's okay for men to love men-"

"-I'm not fucking gay, North!" I can barely hold back the small laugh as I jump up once again from my seat.

He cocks an eyebrow, gazing up at the ceiling in thought as his features tense.

This silence is unnerving.

I witness his expression begin to soften after a minute, hand raising up to his chin and pinching it before slowly turning his gaze back towards me. "It's Shields, isn't it?" He asks.

Fuck.

"No," I mumble, scratching the side of my face.

For somebody who is usually a damn good liar, I'm extremely unconvincing right now.

And lying to a man who has interrogated God knows how many criminals, I'm absolutely fucking done for.

"I can see right through you, Hendrix," he drawls.

His expression is blank. I don't know what to think of it. He can see right through me, yet trying to see through him is like trying to look through a brick wall.

He does the one thing I would least expect.

He erupts into laughter.

My eyes widen, eyebrows knitting together in surprise at this very fucking unexpected outburst.

"Well I'll be damned. I never could've seen this day coming," he speaks through his chuckling, shaking his head in disbelief.

"So that's why you watched over her like a hawk when she was in the medbay. That's why you've been asking about Yamato, because he's the closest one to her in the Falcons. And that is why you want to speed off to Silverwing," he grins, completely amused.

He's read me as though my mind is an open fucking book.

"It all makes sense to me now, Hendrix. Young love with your old rival, eh?" He snickers.

"I'm hardly young, I'm twenty-eight years old," I mumble.

"Young compared to me," he shrugs, "besides, sometimes you have the maturity of a goddamn twenty year old, so it makes sense."

I don't reply.

"Look, son," he sighs after a moment.

Whenever 'son' comes out of his mouth, I know I'm about to get a damn lecture.

"I didn't expect this, so in a way I'm happy for you. Although, you know the situation of relationships within the group. They get in the way of things-"

"-we aren't in a relationship," I interrupt.

"Doesn't matter. Once you retire in God knows how many years, do as you fucking well please. For now, it can't progress. It's already clouding your judgement," he sighs again.

"I haven't asked for anything in my career. I haven't ever asked to be taken off an operation, to be promoted. This is the only time I'll ever fucking beg you, North," I grumble.

"Just please, I have to go to Silverwing, even if it's just for a few weeks."

He heaves out a heavy groan, waving me away with his hand.

"I need to think about the damn task at hand, Hendrix. Leave me be for now."

It's like fighting a losing battle.

I shove myself to my feet, storming out of the room without another word.

—

"Leo! Wait, what's going on?"

Tara drops her task at hand, striding over to me once she notices my frustrated scowl.

"Well, North now knows about Nova and I, and Nicholas is in the US."

Maybe I could've delivered the news a little less bluntly. Tara clasps a hand over her mouth.

"Nicholas? How-"

"-probably a fake identity. Keep it on the down low for now, I don't know what North wants to do with the information." I grumble.

She nods immediately.

"I'm really fucking worried, Tara. If that psychopath has any idea where she is, which he probably fucking does knowing him, he's most likely going to go right after her."

She anxiously chews on one of her nails, "you're right. Jesus Christ, this is awful."

I hum.

"He might think she's dead. He did just ditch on that day after he stabbed her," her eyebrows knit together.

"I honestly hope that is what he thinks, at least then she's in the clear," I mumble.

Just as Tara opens her mouth to speak again, Banksy starts calling for her to resume their task. Her expression is sympathetic as she pats the side of my arm.

"I have to go and get back to my job, otherwise Banksy will start getting suspicious and ask what we're talking about," she sighs.

"It's alright, I'll see you later,"

She nods, turning on her heels and trudging away. I run a hand down my face, over my eyes as I come to terms with the situation.

I'm sure I could find the address for Silverwing somewhere. Nobody could physically stop me from leaving.

But, if I go directly against what North has said, I'll probably lose my position as a Captain and get suspended. Potentially permanently.

If I get suspended, it means I won't be able to help track down Nicholas.

But if I don't go and something happens to her, I'll never fucking forgive myself.

I'm so goddamn conflicted.

I'm just praying he might change his mind, even though it's highly unlikely. Once North has made a decision, it's usually final.

—

The back of my cabin, facing the barbed fences of base is my new usual haunt. It's similar to the place I had in Panay.

The place that I showed her.

I spark up a cigarette, running my thumb across the lighter as I take a drag.

It's got the Jack Daniels logo printed onto it. Probably wasn't the best one for me to get, considering now whenever I look at it I'm reminded of her.

Everything reminds me of her.

I'm a goddamn lovesick man, completely denied of my remedy.

She will be well aware by now that Nicholas is in the States. I wonder how she's feeling about it. Is she scared, or is she satisfied that she might finally be able to get revenge?

Whatever it is, I want to protect her, not that she'd even fucking let me.

I'd take any damn amount of bullets for that woman. I'd do anything to just take any of her pain onto my shoulders instead.

I reach into my pocket, pulling out the now crumpled and smudged sketch Ali drew of her.

Even though some of the details have faded and despite the fact it's hard to see under the midnight sky, she's still absolutely gorgeous.

"Leo,"

I glance up, quickly folding the paper up and sliding it back into my pocket.

"Ruby," I acknowledge as she paces over, sitting a little too close for comfort.

How the actual fuck did she find me here? Must have torn this base apart.

Ruby went through recruitment whilst we were in Panay. Twenty-four years old; long, dyed red hair and blue eyes.

And apparently she thinks we're in a fucking relationship.

"You look stressed, Leon," she fakes a sad pout, scuffling closer to me.

"Leo," I mumble.

"Want me to take the edge off of it?" She shoots me a flirty grin, biting her lip and glancing at my crotch.

"Please, by fucking off," I grunt.

"You're such a moody man," she sighs, shaking her head and standing up.

"Okay."

You're just annoying, and you're definitely not her.

"Smoking isn't good for you,"

"Okay," I repeat, heaving out a groan and taking a fresh drag of my cigarette as she rolls her eyes.

"I'll be in my cabin if you ever want me to take the edge off of stuff," she winks, strutting away.

"That will be never," I mumble under my breath. There's only one person who has the capability to take the 'edge' off of stuff.

Who was also the bane of my existence at one point, who used to cause the damn stress.

—

"He's been spotted," North starts, instantly snapping me to attention.

"Where?" I demand, leaning forward.

"Lubbock, Texas," he pulls out a map, spreading it across the desk in front of us.

My blood runs cold.

He's slowly been making his way towards the border of New Mexico.

"How was he spotted?" Miles questions, calmly as per fucking usual.

"Ran into a little mishap, apparently. Decided it was a good fucking idea to shoot up a gas station, here,"

North spins his laptop, playing us the grainy footage.

It's hard to see clearly, but it's definitely him. A man without a mask, gun in the air as he fires in random directions before making a run for it, two other people following behind him.

The scheming motherfucker. Look's as though he's found some new allies.

"He didn't intend to kill anybody. He didn't wear a mask because he wants us to fucking identify him," I growl.

"How did we get the report?" Miles tilts his head.

"The store worker gave a description, since Nicholas didn't have a mask on it was a pretty damn good one. Mentioned a tattoo on his hand, looked like a pentagram. Also reported hearing 'cholas', which we know is part of his fucking name."

He does have a pentagram on his hand. I remember that from when I was being held in captivity.

"Once the description was out, BlueJays sent the sketch over to the Lubbock feds, haven't used the license since the picture is well out of date. Matched perfectly, and the store worker recognised it."

"You can never be truly accurate with those things," I mumble.

"Maybe not, but there's a damn good chance it is him. It would match up perfectly,"

"And when was this?"

"17th, four days ago,"

"So what now? We're just going to wait it out? Wait until he actually fucking kills somebody and gets pulled up about it? He's probably well past fucking Lubbock by now," I hiss.

"No, goddamnit, shut up! Let me fucking talk!" he seethes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

We fall into a tense silence.

Miles and I exchange a glance, he shrugs slightly until North slams his palms against the desk, making us both jolt.

"Right," he takes in a sharp breath, "I can't believe we're fucking allowing this."

What?

"Hendrix, you're getting what you fucking well please. You're going to Silverwing. With that being the closest base to Texas, it makes sense for a few of you all to congregate there," he groans.

Holy fuck.

"I- you're actually sending me to Silverwing?" I gape in shock, unable to believe he actually changed his mind.

He hums.

I try and mute my excitement, not very professional of me.

"Not just you, you can choose two comrades to take with you, apart from Quinn. I want him here," he gestures to Miles.

"Well, Mulvey and Banksy in that case," I shrug. Easiest fucking decision of my life.

He hums again, rubbing his eyes.

"I'll arrange it with Marcus. I'll have you all driven there rather than flown in, draws less attention at a time like this,"

"How long is the drive?" I tilt my head.

"About seven and a half hours, I think that's what it was the last time I drove there," he shrugs.

"And when can we leave?" I ask in anticipation.

"Should be soon. Just go and tell the others, pack your shit and be ready for the call off me. Don't go spreading the news around base, I'll deliver it to them once you have all left," he informs.

I fly up from my chair, on my absolute best behaviour so he doesn't change his damn mind again.

"Thank you, Sir," I nod, exiting the room. As soon as the door clicks shut behind me, I've got a smile on my face.

I'll finally get to see her again.

My smile falters.

This is not the circumstance I'd like to be seeing her under, at all.

We've got a raging lunatic to deal with.