Energy crackles and vibrates through the desert air as John pulls the trigger, admiring the fist sized hole left in the metal silhouette 300 yards out.

  “Would you fuckin knock that shit off?” Casper grumbles, shifting in the spot next to him on the range table.

  John slots in a new heat sink with a half cocked grin “Gotta test it somehow, Cas.”

  Casper grumbles, wiping the sweat from his brow. “You’re making the desert air just that much hotter.”

  “Oh do not be a pussy,” Bella chides, settling her cheek into the stock of her own rifle to get a sight picture further down range.

  “Says the woman wearing damn near nothing to a range day.”

  “You can take your shirt off too, if you are not a pussy,” Bella presses, letting out a breath and pulling the trigger on her rifle.

  Even with the suppressor it still lets out a whisper, the only other sound being the pang of the round of metal a second and a half later.

  “No offense, but I'd rather Bella be the only one showin’ off, no offense.” Kane chuckles, clicking in the last few rounds into his mag.

  “Do not tempt me to violence while there is a gun in my hand.” Bella doesn’t lift her eyes from the scope, but instead fires another round, a second and a half later the ping signs the hit.

  “She has a sports bra on, surely this isn’t worthy of conversation?” Kid huffs, tapping some data into his tablet.

  “For a man as touched starved as Kane? Me in my sports bra is enough to send him over the edge.” Bella clears the chamber of her rifle, getting ready to load in another mag.

  “Seeing me in my combat gear is enough for Kane.” John shifts the focus, eager to get the Aussie's eyes of his teammate.

  There is no denying that Bella is pleasant to look at, but making a thing of it is only going to cause problems. Kane is funny, and Bella gets his brand of raunchy humor, but there is a line after a while.

  “Oi, you got that right hot stuff,” Kane snickers. "Nothin’ gets me going like ol' Johnny boy in a hundred pounds of armor and a chip on his shoulder. Aye, you ever consider painting that new kit of yours white? You know, given how much you wanna play Bella’s knight?”

  Bella snorts a laugh, and Casper has to catch himself from chuckling.

  “Shut the hell up.” John cracks a smile and shakes his head, bringing his eyes back to the energy weapons scope.

  On one hand, John is grateful that the stims are so efficient, the doctors are well trained, and reluctantly that Lilith's healing made any of it possible. Bella’s leg was healed in a matter of weeks, Blackbeard was back to full health in around the same time, and the more “minor” injuries healed twice as quickly. On the other hand, John finds his mind wandering back to the hallway, the blood, the devils, and he wishes that he was given just a little more time to sit and take it all in.

  The reality of the situation hasn’t gone over his head. The very foundation of his belief system is rocked to its fucking core, and yet here he is training up with his team to prep for their next mission.

  No amount of talking to a shrink can fix how broken everything is. Not now, not with the knowledge that there is a real hell, and that he’s probably going there when he dies.

  It’s the kind of existential dread that makes him drink, or rather, the kind of existential dread that offers a damn good excuse to drink and not catch flack for it.

  The night they all came out of the medical ward was spent downing all the bottles they could find. Bronco offered to pray over them, which isn’t something John was accustomed to, but felt right after everything.

  He spent another night in Bella's room, just chatting about anything they could think of, which helped in the moment, but as sleep took him it sent him into another spiral.

  It was Casper's idea to hit the range, freshen up on their skills, keep their mind off everything that had happened. For the most part it's working, up until the conversation dies and his mind is left to return to that blood filled cave.

  John fires off several more rounds from his energy weapon, while Kid tracks the data carefully, detailing out all the very touchy physics John isn’t as familiar with.

  “Casper, you get any word on our next deployment?” Bronco asks as she drops the tailgate on their range pickup, cracking open a cooler and tossing everyone a beer down the range line.

  Kane whistles, using the cool can to cool off the back of his neck. “You’re a life saver Bronco.”

  “You are all going to love this one.” Casper pops open his can and downs the contents.

  “Please don’t say another desert.”

  “Yemen.”

  “Fuck.” A collective groan grumbles out down the line.

  “Another dessert means you get to see me in my oh so titillating sports bra, Kane, you should be thrilled!” Bella teases, swiping his beer from him and downing it for herself.

  “I'd rather see you in a bikini.”

  “I'd rather see your face at the bottom of my boot.” Bella raises one leg to mock kick at him.

  “My fuckin' pleasure.”

  Casper rolls his eyes. “Alright, that's enough of that.”

  “OI, Johnny boy, get our not so friendly ghost here a set of that white armor, aye?”

  “God forbid someone show me a little respect.” Bella intercepts yet another beer meant for Kane, as Bronco tries to throw him one.

  “Blackwood? Sending us somewhere tropical? Impossible.” Spaz sighs, defeat heavy in his tone. “He’d sooner send us up into the mountains.”

  “He is one cruel taskmaster,” Kid confirms.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  “You all have been with Blackwood for a year, right? You haven’t once gone somewhere tropical?” John asks, adjusting a few settings on his rifle per Kids request.

  “Not once, closest we got was the horn of Africa.” Casper responds plainly.

  “That's not even remotely tropical.”

  “But its as close as we got.”

  “I never thought I would miss Central America so much. I fuckin hate the desert.” John echoes the growing sentiment.

  “What's going on in Yemen?” Kid asks, bringing their attention back to Casper.

  “If its any more devil shit, I'm quitting.” Bronco shudders, joining them under the shade of the range line.

  “No, looks like its something different. Details are sparse but we’re looking at something a bit more straight forward. Someone 'changed'. Reports talk about that silver and purple flash we've seen a few times already. The target can move sand and earth with his mind.” Casper explains, as if this is perfectly normal.

  “Suppose I should get more used to the truly strange.” John mutters.

  “You haven’t seen anything yet, trust me, it only gets stranger from here John.” Casper winks, and brings his head back to the stock of his rifle to fire a few more rounds down range.

  “All the more reason to get this gear operational.” Kid smiles wide, putting the tablet away. “We have enough data to start seriously focusing on making more of these. It will take some time to get it perfect though. We can’t have you burning through so many heat sinks or batteries, but I’m feeling really good about all this.”

  “If it helps you feel better, take a look at your bank account, John.” Kane cackles, and finally manages to steal a beer for himself.

  It’s true the money is damn nice, but there is also no amount of cash in his account that will buy his way out of the very real hell he knows he's going to.

  As pleasant a distraction as the range is, and the conversations that follow well into sunset as the teams disperse into their own activities, it doesn’t stop him from thinking about hell.

  John must have a thousand yard stare as he sits down on the side of the indoor track and field. As badass as operators are, very few of them actually care to do cardio which makes the lap track the singe most quiet place in the compound, next to the shrinks offices. He looks off into the middle distance, listening to the sound of his own heartbeat as he recovers from god knows how long of a run, when Bella takes up a seat next to him.

  “Something is bothering you,” She offers him a water bottle and a towel.

  “Shit, it isn’t bothering you?”

  “No, not really.”

  John looks at the French woman, her eyes set into the same middle of nowhere spot his were moments ago.

  “How can you not be bothered by all this?”

  “Because there is nothing I can do about it.”

  John huffs a breath, cracks open the water and drinks half of it. “So that's it huh? Nothing can be done, so why worry?”

  “In a sense.”

  “Well, forgive me for not being as accepting of that.” He offers her the other half of the bottle, but she dismisses it.

  “I suppose it is more a matter of, should I die and go to hell, then at the very least I know I will be with all of you.”

  John considers it for a moment, and rests his elbows on his knees, one foot beginning to bounce almost rhythmically as he thinks.

  “Silver lining, sure, but I’m not nearly as thrilled. I got someone still waiting for me elsewhere, and I’d hate to leave her behind.”

  “You miss her greatly, don’t you?”

  “Every fuckin day…”

  “I am so sorry John.”

  “Bah, everyone is always so sorry, no offense but you get tired of hearing it after a while. But we aren’t talkin about my dead wife, we are talking about what happens to us.”

  “Well…” Bella shifts, kicking one leg up over her knee. “I will tell you this. If there is a God, and he is as merciful as they say, then I don’t think he will punish the woman who loves you, by sending you to hell.”

  John nods slowly, letting her words sink in. “If it’s any consolation, someone who offers a man like me help, doesn’t deserve to be down there either.”

  “Are you kidding? I am sure hell is not all sunshine and rainbows, but if Lilith is there I am sure I can make due.”

  John snorts out a laugh and shakes his head.

  “What! It is true! For as much as Kane and you love to ogle me, it comes as a shock then I admire Lilith? You all ogle her as well!”

  “I ogle you?”

  “Of course you do, you just hide it better.”

  “Shit, hey, I'm sorry… I don’t mean—”

  “Shhhh you talk to much, did I say I didn’t like it?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me, so instead of repeating myself, I will let you think on that, hmm?” Bella pats John on the leg, and stands from her spot next to him.

  “I’ll be Honest Bella, I don’t know what the hell I'm supposed to do now.”

  “You do what we all do, you learn and move on. We have a job to do yes? Then let us make sure we keep our heads on straight.” Bella stalks away, leaving John alone in the track once again.

  If there is a God, and he is as merciful as they say, then the only thing he can hope for now is a hell of a lot of mercy, from both him, and his wife.

  Keep his head on straight, huh? Easier said than done, but he supposes Bella has a point. Despite everything that's happened, there is still a hell of a lot more to come, better to focus up and think about all that existential shit later. He will have plenty of time to think about it all when he's in the ground after all.