Machine Learning (Captain Allen and DPD SWAT POV)

Operation: Urgent Fury (Akane POV)

"On the battlefield, as in all areas of life, I shall stand tall above the competition. Through professional pride, integrity, and teamwork, I shall be the example for all Marines to emulate."

When I called that favor in for the passport...the sedan...the intel, Erik didn't know what to say. Why would he? It'd been years since we spoke. It took a little persuading, but he helped me, in the end. It wasn't enough to save her life, but it was...enough. Admittedly, back when we were planning our assault on Jericho, it felt good to be back at that level of work. Clandestine operations. Like a drug I'd been unknowingly going through withdrawal from. I found peace within that chaos. Confidence in that uncertainty. I felt like a cutting board being washed and cleaned before a new blade took to fresh meat.

Then there was Captain Allen.

I looked at the report in my hand. Nothing from the CIA ever came free. I'd bargained Captain Allen's secrets for what I thought would be the Martyr's getaway. Not only did she die, but he was compromised in the process. I made it my goal to put a tactful spin on things where I could. Erik gave me that professional courtesy, and I took it without second thought. I owed David that much after what we did. What we had to do. The dominos we put in place so he'd be sent to knock them down.

David Allen was a good man, but good men don't make it far in this world...

Not without people like us to protect them.

...

I swiped around on my tablet, analyzing the latest intelligence feed the CIA had to offer. All encrypted, of course. Routes, plans, technological capabilities, names, names stemming from those names, names of children belonging to those names, date of births, known aliases, mistresses, affairs – prescription drugs...everything.

One man had a strange habit of counting steps while walking, and another refused to watch television while the volume was turned to an odd number. A woman who talked to herself, alone, before every major presentation. Another couldn't keep her hands off her bracelets that she wore religiously. That one was particularly dangerous. A good spray or powder with the right poisonous agent placed carefully at the right time...gone.

Novichok-7, perhaps? Was that the latest compound nowadays, or had they progressed? More research would be required.

"You know we have that briefing soon, right?" Erik asked, cleaning his gun on the table next to me.

"I know." My eyes flickered to him, "Not like you to remind me."

"Not like you to forget."

"Who said I forgot?"

"You haven't done that thing you do."

My eyes narrowed at him.

"You know, that...thing. You get up, start pacing, counting things around the room, color coding dockets-"

"I'm busy."

He huffed and shrugged, clearly not believing me. That was fine. He didn't have to. The probability of me forgetting something like this was exactly zero percent. The game may be fun to play, but it was never lost upon me that the pieces were people. The probability that at least twenty-five percent of the faces I'd see today would be gone the next was much higher than zero percent. Higher than I wanted to admit.

And one hundred percent of them depended on our intel being ironclad.

It was apparent that I had strange habits, too. Rituals. Weaknesses. How many others in the world had a folder on me that outlined everything Erik had just pointed out? What were the odds that he was the one to give them that information? Were we getting too close? Couldn't trust anyone. Not even Erik.