Gale and Johannes Crowe shared a final hug before she exited the charter bus. "Good hunting." Crowe whispered. Gale could feel a twinge of sadness mixed with resignation in his tone. Gale nodded silently as she wiped away a smudge of charcoal eyeliner that had crept under her green eyes during her restless sleep on the journey to Warsaw. She glanced back at Crowe one last time before turning the corner.

She saw Lieutenant John Baker, having already disembarked, leaning against a dark blue truck parked beside the curb. He had been unusually quiet on their journey from Berlin to Warsaw, his mind preoccupied with what awaited them in Latvia.

Gale silently made her way over to the truck where Baker waited and came to rest beside him. "Well, this is the truck mentioned in the briefing, but I don't see our driver." John murmured. The truck depot in Warsaw, Poland was bustling with activity and the air was heavy with the stench of diesel and worn rubber. A symphony of honking horns, revving engines, and shouting men filled their ears as they waited near the entrance.

Gale pursed her lips, her eyes narrowed as she observed their surroundings with vigilant precision. "Very busy. Baymatov must be doing very well, or he is very connected."

"We are having, how you say, a banner year," Omar interjected smoothly, appearing from around the back of the trailer, his jet-black hair and olive colored skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat. He was dressed in a simple white button-down shirt and dark jeans, slightly disheveled from the long drive from Tallinn.

"Gayle Tanner, I presume?" Omar extended a hand towards Gale as they approached.

Allowing him to take her hand, she responded, "In the flesh, and you must be..." As he kissed the back of her hand, a small jolt of electricity seemed to pass between them. Omar continued, "I am Omar Baymatov, pleased to make your acquaintance."

Gale kept her face composed despite the odd sensation. "You as well," she said, extracting her hand.

"Baker," John simply stated, reaching his hand out to Omar.

"Ah, the skilled Lieutenant," Omar said appreciatively as they shook. "I hear you've dismantled multiple terrorist cells in North Africa."

John nodded, accepting the praise but changing the subject quickly. "You said you knew the location of our targets?"

Omar inclined his head, a gesture similar to a nod. "They are currently at their home, a cottage with large grounds, in Latvia. I can take you closer than anyone else." He said with a smirk, revealing his intention of driving Gale and John to the final rendezvous spot himself.

John and Gale eyed each other for briefly, neither liking what they were hearing.

"Good to know," Gale said with a knowing smile, "Does this depot have any shops, like maybe clothing accessories? I'm afraid my look has gotten a little stale." She gestured at her attire, a black turtleneck and jean skirt, both of which had served her well in Berlin, but perhaps wouldn't so in Poland and Latvia.

Omar nodded in understanding. "Of course, let me show you to the depot's store. They carry a wide selection of items for our drivers. Your equipment will be loaded shortly."

"I have to call in... Um, to my wife." John mumbled, demonstrating that spy-craft was not his strong suit.

Omar's lips quirked into a knowing smile. "A pay phone is located outside the convenience store. It should suit your needs, Lieutenant." He then turned his attention to Gale. "Please, follow me. The shop is just past the counter and vending machines."

Omar led Gale through the crowd to a small shop just off the main concourse. The store was cramped and dimly lit, stocking everything from snacks and drinks to hats, gloves, and other travel accessories. Not exactly high-end fashion, but it would serve its purpose—a leather jacket, woolen cap, gloves, and a few other items to help blend in.

Meanwhile, Baker ended his call tersely and rejoined Gale in the shop. His facial expression revealed frustration and anger. Something had clearly upset him.

Gale offered him an array of male clothing accessories in her hands, "I've got everything we need, let's get back to Omar and the truck."

Baker nodded curtly, glancing at the accessories in her hands. He took a single dark scarf, and wrapped it around his neck, the only change to his outfit. Annoyance was etched on his face.

Gale took this opportunity to engage John in conversation. "Lieutenant," she began, peering intently into his dark eyes. "Is everything alright?" she inquired.

John hesitated for a moment before answering. He ran his hand through his short brown hair and sighed heavily. "I was not calling my wife." He started.

"That much was obvious. You were calling in to command. What did they say?" Gale asked, her voice barely above a whisper. From the furrow of John's brown, she could tell the situation wasn't a simple one.

"They said they were aware that Baymatov would be the one driving us to Latvia," John revealed, with a suppressed frustration.

"And how did they know that?" Gale inquired, her gaze not wavering from John's.

"They said it was necessary for the operation; more efficient, and cheaper. I don't like it," John answered, his voice tight with barely contained irritation. "It feels rushed, like we are working against a clock nobody let us in on."

Gale nodded, deep in thought. Noting her expression, John walked back his tone, "But hey, we have each other's back, and that's all that matters."

"Yes, sir. I couldn't agree more." Gale responded, her voice steady and calm. Together, they made a formidable team: John's expertise in military strategy and Gale's, intangibles, had been successfully utilized in various daring missions. However, as they walked side by side towards Omar's truck, Gale sensed an unfamiliar tension between them.

Omar, seeing them, headed to the cab as he pointed to the back, "Your accommodations will be in the trailer, I'm afraid. There is plenty to drink, eat and smoke, but you will not be able to ride up front with me." Gale cast a fleeting glance at John, who looked back at her. They both understood that being kept away from their driver would hinder their ability to monitor and react to any betrayal or suspicious behavior Omar could exhibit along the way.

Despite their reservations, John and Gale climbed into the trailer, each finding shelter from the wind that whipped through the open back doors. The space was dimly illuminated by small windows lining the top of each side. Gale leaned against one wall while John sat on top of a few crates opposite her.

Together, they sorted through the equipment that had been loaded on board and prepared for the journey ahead. The atmosphere inside the trailer was tense, but neither dared to bring up their concerns regarding Omar again. Gale's eyes were drawn to John's muscular form as he examined each piece of gear meticulously.

Finishing their prep work, John looked through the box that Omar had left for them. He pulled out a bottle of whiskey, a pack of cigarettes, and cartons of food. "Looks like Omar is leaving us well taken care of." He smirked and winked at her as he threw almost all the items out the back of the trailer. He then grabbed a crushed carton of cigarettes from his pocket, "I only trust what I bring myself." He said as he handed her one between two long fingers.

Gale chuckled in agreement, but shook her head at John's offering, "I don't smoke." She eyed him appreciatively as he lit up his cigarette, the orange ember casting a sharp glow on his chiseled jawline. The dark trailer suddenly felt smaller as their eyes met and locked.

"I don't trust someone who doesn't smoke," John said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

"Maybe you shouldn't trust me then," Gale retorted, but her eyes were still locked onto John's.

"You see Tanner, that's the problem." John's words hung heavy between them as he leaned towards Gale punctuating his words with the cigarette in his fingers. "Nobody in intelligence trusts you. You do too many things on your own. You flaunt command..." He started.

"Field decisions, Lieutenant. You know this." Gale interrupted him, her voice barely above a whisper. She understood his concern with her rogue methods and unpredictable alliances, but her unique methodology had proven its worth time and time again. It wasn't something she would change to be beloved by command.

John sighed, releasing the tension in his body as he leaned back against the metal wall behind him. "You have too many friends, Tanner," He continued, "Dangerous friends." John's eyes bore into Gale's, reflecting the fiery red from her pigtails. His words hung heavy between them, an insinuation of suspicion and betrayal in the air.

Gale held his gaze without flinching. "You know I wouldn't put us in jeopardy," she said evenly, taking a deep breath. "I may have strange acquaintances, but they are loyal to me. Crowe? I'm his child's godmother." Gale's voice was steady, but she knew that John was right; she did tend to make unpredictable alliances.

John let out a deep sigh, extinguishing his cigarette and crushing it under the heel of his boot. "I wasn't talking about Crowe." John replied, his voice low and measured.

"King? He's a teddy bear." Gale chuckled, shaking off the tension that had built up between her and John.

"Who?!" John frowned. "I'm talking about the Italian!" he barked, the words punctuated with a sense of urgency and frustration. "He's a slippery character, Tanner. I don't trust him." John's eyes narrowed as he searched for any subterfuge or deceit in Gale's expression.

The mention of the Italian made Gale's heart skip a beat. Vincent Galvani was cunning and ruthless, always on the cutting-edge of technology and engineering. "I can handle Vincent. He's sweet on me" She smirked, removing a piece of lint from her black sweater.

"Sweet on?!" John's jaw clenched, a slight hint of anger present in his tonality. "This is what I'm talking about, Tanner!" John snarled, his eyes blazing with anger. "You can't just sleep your way out of every situation. It's dangerous, and it's reckless." Despite his scolding, John's voice was thick with lust.

"I haven't slept with anyone!" Gale retorted hotly, her large piercing green eyes flashing with defiance. She stood up straight and crossed her arms over her sensual curvy body, her chest heaving with emotion. "I can handle myself, Lieutenant. I don't need anyone to protect me."

John stared at Gale for a long moment, "That's not how a team works, Tanner. You're never alone, you have your teammate. You will always need your teammate, and your teammate will always need you." John's voice was firm but gentle, his dark eyes full of concern and affection.

Gale opened her mouth to protest, but paused, nodded her head and simply replied, "Yes, sir." She couldn't deny the fact that, despite their differences, John had always been there for her. They had been partners through thick and thin. She trusted him as much as she trusted anyone in this line of work.

John took a deep breath and softened his tone, "Look, Tanner, I know you're more than capable, but sometimes even the best gets blinded by their personal feelings. And your connections could put us at risk. I don't want to lose you."

His words caught Gale off guard—his tone was genuine and heartfelt, yet firm. Despite their many missions together, it was rare for the stern Lieutenant to express his emotions like this. Gale couldn't help but feel touched by John's sincerity.

"And you won't, Lieutenant," she assured him with conviction. "I can be reckless sometimes, but I always have the mission; and the team, in mind, even if my actions are questioned later on." Gale paused for a moment, then fixed her gaze on John with a resolute look in her eyes. "My team won't let me down, nor will I let them down."

John leaned back, a quizzical look on his face. "Alright, Tanner. Alright. If they’re your team, then that’s acceptable.," John agreed with a slight nod. The tension that had grown between them in the past minutes subsided, and a sense of camaraderie filled the space inside the dimly lit trailer as it continued to rumble along the dark and winding road.

After many hours spent driving across Poland's breathtaking landscapes, they arrived at the Latvian border. It was an uneventful crossing, with the guards more interested in the appearance and manner of Omar Baymatov when he presented his papers—a clean-shaven man of respectable age, calm and suave in presence.

Omar navigated through winding, narrow roads with near-reckless abandon, earning some choice words from Gale and John as they bounced around the trailer's interior. Eventually, their journey took them towards a dense forest, a perfect cover for clandestine activities.

The truck suddenly lurched to a stop, jerking Gale and John forward in the trailer as Omar emerged from his cab. A thick layer of sweat covered his olive skin, making it glisten under the few shafts of sunlight filtering through the canopy of leaves overhead.

Omar turned toward the trailer, knocking twice before he opened the rear door. "We have arrived," he said with a forced smile.

He reached out a hand to help Gale down from the trailer; the touch of his skin on hers left her with an overwhelming sense of unfamiliarity. It was in stark contrast to the way she felt when she and John exchanged glances or brushed against one another as they maneuvered in their tight confines.

John, on-edge and agitated from their harrowing drive, clumsily jumped down from the back of the trailer. "Are we where I think we are?" John asked, astonished.

"Yes, my friend. You make it to the top of that forested hill, and you'll step precisely on your location." Omar said with more than a small amount of pride. He pointed into the dense foliage, gesturing for them to follow him. "The thicket thins out further up the path. I'll ensure you both reach your targets securely."

"How did you know you could drive a truck all the way to this point?" Gale wondered out loud.

Omar smiled, his teeth gleaming in the dappled sunlight that streamed through the trees. "I had some good maps, and a lot of practice running contraband" he said, with a hint of humor in his tone. He had worked as a runner and spy in every hellhole of the Soviet Union for years; driving a truck through the dense Latvian forest was practically child's play.

Gale glanced at John, detecting a shadow of doubt in his deep-set dark eyes. He clearly shared her own misgivings about trusting Omar without question, despite his usefulness.

Omar noticed, but also reciprocated their lack of trust, "And now, I hope to never see your faces again. Auf Wiedersehen," he said with a curt nod.

With that, Gale and John adjusted their packs, already prepped and prepared, filled with weapons and ammunition, scopes and other sniper equipment. The two moved quickly, Gale following closely behind John as he led the way deeper into the wooded thicket. The encounter with their targets, inevitable.