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Las Almas is absolutely nothing like Austria , Viktor thought to himself as he stepped off the transport and into the arid sun. He shivered as the rays of light soaked into his skin – he surely appreciated it after hours on transport, the chilly air of the helio enough to make him miss the warmth of the outside world.
But Viktor was here on a mission. There was no time to enjoy the sun.
Word gets around quickly, even halfway across the world, and the news that the Mexican Special Forces had encountered an unconquerable opponent had spread like wildfire throughout private military companies worldwide. They were asking for anyone from anywhere to come and assist with this issue.
The aforementioned issue had crossed the general’s desk only a week prior, and Viktor had immediately been called to the office with the intention of sending him across the world to help out their new “allies”. Having friends everywhere was integral to the success of a PMC, especially one that wasn’t as established as Silverex. There was plenty of work to be done for a military contract group in and around Austria, which was where Silverex’s home base was. However, the general wanted to “broaden their horizons”, and sending them to Mexico seemed like a perfect opportunity to do so.
However, they couldn’t just send plain old anyone. From what the general disclosed from the file, the threat that lay in the shadows of Las Almas wasn’t something any old contractor could handle. The person they sent had to be competent, with their head constantly on a swivel. They had to be a leader, capable and confident in their decisions. In the den of snakes that was Las Almas, one had to be constantly vigilant.
So when the general generously offered his own colonel to Alejandro Vargas’ cause, Vargas couldn’t do much but accept. Colonel Viktor Weisman was perhaps the most well-decorated colonel among Silverex’s rankings. Having previously been a combat medic (and a damn good one at that) before joining the special forces, he was by far the most well-rounded soldier. Ask any operator within Silverex’s rank – they would tell you that Colonel Weisman, although more informally known as Midnight, was a cold-hearted operator known for getting the job done ruthlessly and efficiently. When he led a team, it was relatively assured that the op was going to go off without a hitch. He was the saying “if you want something right, do it yourself” incarnate, and rarely worked with a team. If you asked him directly, he’d shrug and say that teams were a liability. That he worked the best on his own without anyone there to hold him back. That he alone was good enough to take on most jobs. He’s seen and dealt with too many injuries to want anyone else to get caught in the crossfire.
His impressive track record clearly backed up his claims.
Perhaps that’s how he picked up his callsign – in the blink of an eye, his ops were done and dusted. Almost as if he was a vigilante who solely operated in the dead of night, only for his work to be discovered the following morning.
Counter-terrorist work, bomb defusal, reconnaissance work, hostage situations – you name it, chances are Midnight had experience in the field.
That expertise is likely how he found himself currently standing in the hot sun of Las Almas, staring at the still figure of Colonel Vargas, his second-in-command Sergeant Major Parra standing behind him. He offered Viktor a warm yet grave smile as he approached, stretching out his hand for Viktor to shake. “Colonel Viktor Weismen,” he said, and for his gaze met Midnight’s for a moment.
Midnight’s eyes narrowed slightly, although his face never dropped that cool, outward demeanor. “Colonel Vargas,” he responded, reaching out to meet Alejandro’s hand halfway. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Likewise, señor,” Alejandro said, and he gestured over his shoulder. “This is my second in command, Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra.” Rudy gave Viktor a small smile of acknowledgement, of which Viktor returned. “Now that introductions are out of the way,” Alejandro continued, “Let’s get you back to base so you can meet the rest of our forces.”
Viktor nodded his head and followed Rudy into the transport vehicle. If he was being honest, he really just wanted to get out of the heat. He could feel the sweat drops starting to work their way down his neck, staining his flight clothes. He also wanted to get to work as quickly as possible. Acquainting himself with the base, with the men, with their tactics, and most importantly, figuring out if he could trust the two men who stood before him.
It wasn’t like he completely distrusted Colonel Vargas and Sergeant Major Parra, but he’d seen enough of the world where he knew that he had to be cautious. Part of this venture was to gain the Mexican Special Forces as their allies, but there was more to this than just that simple mission. If the threat they were facing was more than the Mexican Special Forces could handle, then how could one man – even a man of Viktor’s caliber – tilt the scales completely?
It seemed fishy. And Viktor didn’t like it.
Maybe that’s why he didn’t trust Alejandro. Some of the details weren’t lining up, plus the fact that the general kept Viktor in relative darkness surrounding the details of the operation made him suspicious. Even though Viktor had full trust in his own competence, that didn’t matter if he was completely caught off guard.
As Alejandro and Rudy made small talk in the front seats of the transport vehicle, Viktor watched as the colorful streets of Las Almas whizzed past his window. Even though he was foreign in this land, he felt as if this was his responsibility now. This was his place to protect now, his people to keep safe. Regardless of the danger that he and the Mexican Special Forces faced, these people were more likely to be caught in the crossfire without having any involvement in it. Even though he himself was walking into the blind, the people of this city were even more in the blind.
“Oy, Colonel Weisman,” Alejandro said from the passenger seat, pulling Viktor from his thoughts. “What’s on your mind, amigo? If you think any harder, we’ll see steam comin’ out your ears.”
Viktor inwardly rolled his eyes at the obvious attempt to make conversation, but he figured he should play along. “Just observing your city,” he said truthfully. “It’s very nice. Las Almas, you said it was called?”
Alejandro beamed with pride. “Sí, señor, the City of Souls. Rodolfo and I grew up here.” That launched him into a long story of how the city had fallen to sicarios and narcos, and how their unit of the Mexican Special Forces, of which he affectionately called Los Vaqueros, made it their mission to keep the streets clean and safe for the inhabitants.
And while Viktor agreed with that admirable mission, he still held his reservations about the man. He couldn’t quite place it – call it a gut feeling. Something was off.
Viktor didn’t trust him.
He needed to watch out.
–
No matter what Viktor thought of Alejandro and Rudy, he had to admit that the Los Vaqueros’ base was beyond stellar. They had a whole wing dedicated just to guests, and so when Alejandro showed Viktor to his room, Viktor was surprised at how spacious his living quarters were. He could definitely get used to staying here… that is, if Alejandro wanted him to stay.
Wait, no – it didn’t matter if Alejandro wanted him to stay. It only mattered if the op went smoothly.
To his credit, behind his cheeky smile and excess bravado, Alejandro was organized and efficient. As soon as Viktor had settled into his room, he had received a knock on the door that revealed Sergeant Major Parra, requesting his presence at a debriefing. When he got there, Alejandro already appeared to be laser-focused, his intelligent, brown eyes scouring over the papers that were strewn over the long conference table. He only momentarily acknowledged Viktor’s presence, making sure to greet him with a terse nod and thanking Rodolfo for his assistance. Only then could the meeting officially start.
They were applying a two-pronged attack strategy, he came to learn. One team would be led by Alejandro himself, the other led by both Viktor and Rodolfo. Their objective was the cartel, and revealing the many secrets that the organization contained. Rodolfo rattled off some statistics about how cartel violence had exploded around residential areas, and how the people of Las Almas had to fear the dark for what lurked in the shadows. These threats had to be contained, but first they needed to learn some details about the cartel. This had been the nature of all of their previous missions that led up to this – gather intel about everything and anything. Shipping routes, identification of key members, buyers – anything that would give Los Vaqueros an edge in this arms war that seemed to always have them one step behind.
The one person they needed was the one that Alejandro and Rodolfo both called “El Sin Nombre”. Apparently, they were the leader of the Las Almas Cartel, and finding them or anything even remotely related to them would be an absolute breakthrough for Los Vaqueros. Alejandro commented that while it seemed to be a lofty goal, it was definitely doable. “What’s been done before can be done again,” he said specifically, and that made Viktor’s eyes narrow in suspicion.
Especially since he made eye contact with Rudy immediately after saying that, who had been scowling at the question mark portrait that signified El Sin Nombre on their map.
Viktor’s intuition told him that this wasn’t their first run in with El Sin Nombre. They weren’t being entirely truthful. Withholding information from Viktor for personal reasons, or for distrust reasons?
That was fine. As far as he was concerned, Viktor understood that he wouldn’t be trusted with all the details. But if the possibility of a personal connection to El Sin Nombre would compromise anything in the mission…
They spent the rest of the day perusing the maps of the compound they had targeted. Whispers across Las Almas foreshadowed that El Sin Nombre would be in this specific location. Los Vaqueros had to strike, and now.
Viktor left the debriefing feeling a lot more confident about his purpose here on Los Vaqueros’ base. He felt charged, even though his facial expressions wouldn’t betray that sentiment one bit.
The debrief also helped strengthen his trust in both Alejandro and Rudolfo. Skepticism was healthy in small doses, but it decreased significantly after hearing that Alejandro and Rodolfo actually had a plan to attack their problem.
The only thing to do was to wait for the night of the op.
-
It was the final night before the operation, and Viktor had finally finished combing through all the available intel one last time. He looked over to the clock with an audible sigh, realizing that it was an hour past midnight. The proper preparation was key, and that included an appropriate amount of sleep, especially if he was to lead an entire squad into battle without previous knowledge of his surroundings.
He packed up all of the confidential documents back into their manila folders, sliding the large stack of them under his arms before returning to his room for the night. He was going to need an inordinate amount of rest in order to feel prepared for the op, and it already called for an early wake up call. For him to be up this late bordered on irresponsible, but he wanted to be absolutely sure that he was prepared.
Viktor rubbed his eyes as he walked back to his room, his footsteps barely audible against the floor of the base. He wandered, deep in thought and contemplation.
That was, until he heard something.
Something like… laughter. And music. The clinking of glasses against one another.
It sounded like what Viktor assumed was… a party?
On a night like this – the night before an op.
They were having a fucking party?
While yes, Viktor wasn’t being the most responsible soldier ever by being awake at this hour, at least he wasn’t fucking partying the night before an op.
Rudy had mentioned something about a congregation to boost morale before the big operation tomorrow, and Viktor had respectfully declined in favor of searching over the documents. Don’t get him wrong, he thought it was a good idea. Happy soldiers are alive soldiers, after all. But he figured it would have been over well before midnight in order to let the soldiers get their rest before the big day.
Turns out he was mistaken.
He stalked towards the noise, following the hallways that he had come to know like the back of his hands. The party didn't sound like it was in full swing, but it definitely sounded like there was no intention of stopping any time soon.
“ Diese Leute sind unglaublich ,” Viktor muttered to himself. How fucking insane was it that these soliders could dare jeopardize an op of this importance? Not to mention, these were the soldiers that were going to be under HIS command. He was going to give them a piece of his mind and tell them to go the fuck to sleep.
Turns out the party was happening in some common room near the barracks, and Viktor opened the door with a scowl on his face. He quickly scanned the room as his ears were assaulted by loud music and howls of laughter. Could anyone even sleep through this ruckus?
Perhaps the most insane thing was that across the room, sitting at a makeshift bar as he sipped on what looked to be an alcoholic beverage, was none other than Colonel Alejandro Vargas.
This was happening under HIS leadership. Under HIS watch.
To say that Viktor was baffled was an understatement.
He walked over to Alejandro, attempting to contain his anger before clearing his throat to get the Colonel’s attention.
His eyes widened in surprise, and an easy smile spread on his face. “Ah, Weismen! Rudy said you weren’t going to be joining us tonight.” He reached across the bar to grab an empty cup, offering it to Viktor. “Come, take a load off, amigo.”
“Ah, no thank you, Colonel,” Viktor said, his anger nearly climbing out of his throat as he leveled his gaze at the tipsy colonel. Thankfully, Rudy was nowhere to be seen. At least Alejandro’s other leadership was supposedly fucking sensible about this. Viktor jerked his head towards the door. “Can I speak to you? Privately?” He flicked his eyes to the other soldiers around him, who were clearly somewhat inebriated. Fuckin’ idiots.
Alejandro blinked slowly at Viktor’s request. “Of course.” He smiled and shrugged at the soldiers around him, placing his cup on the bar and standing. He looked a little wobbly on his feet as he nodded at Viktor. “Lead the way, señor.”
Viktor could feel the cold stares of the other soldiers on his back as he led their leader out of the common room and into the hallway. He led him a short ways away, just so that their discussion couldn’t be heard over the sound of the music.
“What’s the issue, Weisman?” Alejandro asked once they were far enough away from any wandering ears. “What couldn’t wait until the morning?”
Viktor narrowed his eyes at the snide comment, delicately tracing Alejandro’s features with his gaze. Did he look inebriated or compromised? His eyes clearly had dark bags underneath them, and they were slightly unfocused. That could be attributed to a lack of sleep and not alcohol consumption. He seemed to be slightly slurring his words, and his face looked slightly flushed.
(Why was he so pretty–)
Either way, alcohol consumption? The day before an op? This was not the behavior of an esteemed Colonel.
“What the hell are you doing, Colonel?” Viktor asked, some of his anger bleeding into his voice as he spoke. “It’s the night before our mission, and you’re… drinking? And letting your soldiers drink?”
Alejandro shrugged. “Everyone needs a load off, Weisman. Let my men enjoy themselves.”
“Now is not the time to do so, Colonel,” Viktor snarled, his anger getting the best of him. How could Alejandro endorse this behavior? “Your men need to be at their very best for this.”
“And you don’t think they will, Colonel Weismen?” Alejandro asked coldly. It was clear he was getting ticked off at this conversation, especially with the accusatory tone that Viktor was using.
“I have no doubt in their capabilities, Colonel Vargas,” Viktor said, trying to tread lightly on this sensitive topic. “But you and your men have to be prepared for anything.” He looked Alejandro up and down, taking in the man’s form. “You hardly seem prepared for tomorrow at all.”
“Might I remind you who the guest here is, Colonel? I would rethink speaking of my men like that.” Alejandro’s voice was stern and short.
Viktor was not one to sugarcoat things. He said what he said and he meant it. When people’s lives were at stake, he didn’t care who he offended along the way. The op was of utmost importance.
He didn’t know if Alejandro shared that sentiment.
“You need to wake up, Colonel,” Viktor hissed. “The way that you endorse AND participate in this behavior is laughable.”
Maybe it was too aggressive. Maybe it struck Alejandro’s pride. Whatever it was, Alejandro was visibly unhappy with Viktor’s words. His lips pursed and his eyebrows furrowed. “Piss off, cabrón. You don’t know shit. Don’t know what we’ve worked for, don’t know what we’ve done to get this far. You’re just the fuckin’ help.”
“We are of the same station, Colonel Vargas,” Viktor snarled, his patience reaching limit at being belittled. “Come tomorrow, I will be the one commanding a squadron of your men. Guest or not, you should heed my words.”
“This is my base, Weisman. I decide the rules.”
“Your rules are outlandish and ludicrous,” Viktor said through gritted teeth. “You are going to be the reason your men die.”
“You don’t know who the fuck you’re talking to.” Alejandro’s words were dangerous and charged.
God, how insufferable was Colonel Vargas? His blatant disrespect aimed towards Viktor and quite frankly his own men – how was it possible he even made it to his position as a colonel?
Viktor shook his head as silence fell over the both of them. All this conversation did was distract them from their true objective. Arguing with this obstinate and overconfident moron wouldn’t get them anywhere. They both had jobs to do.
“Get some rest, Alejandro Vargas,” Viktor said quietly. “You reek of hubris.”
He’s lucky that Alejandro just watched him walk away, seemingly rooted to the spot in awe.
Viktor clenched his fist as he walked away, the conversation stirring up a spell of uncertainty in his gut.
He hoped Alejandro’s hubris wouldn’t get them all killed.
–
Fate was a fucking bitch sometimes.
That’s what was running through Colonel Viktor “Midnight” Weisman’s head as he rushed past unfamiliar street signs with members of the cartel close on his heels.
It was an ambush, a fucking set up. All of that preparation went completely down the drain as the first shots were fired and the first man dropped.
That first man happened to be Rodolfo Parra. He sustained a gunshot wound that looked like it went through his shoulder, and he had dropped to the floor in a cry of pain. Midnight made sure to signal to his men to fall back, to regroup at a different angle as they tried to take the compound by utilizing pressure from Alejandro’s men coming from the opposite side.
But the cartel was prepared – suspiciously overprepared, one could say. Over the roar of the blood in his ears, he could hear the sounds of explosions and gunshots through his earpiece on Alejandro’s end. Vargas was barking out orders to cover the flanks, to scan for more explosives. Weisman did the same, instructing a trio of soldiers to take Rodolfo out of the fight while they tried their best to brute force through the gunfight with the remaining men they had.
But as minutes went by with little to no progress, and more men being injured and lost… Weisman heard the call from his earpiece.
Vargas was calling for a retreat.
But of course… fate was a cruel mistress. Nothing could go right. The second Midnight opened his mouth to command his men to fall back, a blast from the compound threw him flat onto his back, landing with a grunt on the harsh concrete.
Wreckless bastards had nearly taken out their own compound simply to oust them from the Mexican Special Forces from their hiding spots. Where the hell had the cartel gotten fucking explosives from? Their intel hadn’t covered any of the technology the cartel could use to fight back, and it had sorely bit them in the ass.
Scrambling to his feet, he desperately called for a retreat for his men, screaming at them to fall back and regroup at their backup location. The sounds of gunshots and explosions rang in his ear as he lifted his rifle to provide his men supportive fire before quickly ducking out of their entrance zone himself.
Their retreat was in full force, with the men of Los Vaqueros practically running for the hills. They’d regroup at a safer location, return to base with the intel they gathered during their short confrontation, and prepare even better for the next potential opportunity.
Preferably, their preparation would involve a little more focus and a lot less drinking.
As the men of Rodolfo and Viktor’s team quickly ducked behind the natural cover of Las Almas’ countryside, Viktor was checking in on the injured, lending a help to the combat medics who had been dispatched alongside their infiltration soldiers. He felt in his element here, wading among the injured, helping set stitches and providing the medics with water and supplies.
He was just getting to Rodolfo, who had sustained multiple gunshot wounds, when his earpiece crackled to life again.
It sounded like a jumble of sounds and words, but it was clear that something was wrong.
“This is Victor 1-1, requesting backup, quickly! We’re being-” the voice roared through the earpiece, which was quickly followed by a howl of pain, and the sounds of the gunfire drowned out the sound of Alejandro Vargas’ voice.
Viktor swore to himself. Of course Alejandro would somehow get himself into more trouble, even in the middle of an evacuation attempt.
He did a quick sweep of the makeshift encampment, mentally noting down their wounded, exhausted, and their missing.
They couldn’t spare anyone to help their other team.
Anyone except… himself.
He was used to working alone. Preferred it, actually. Less of a chance of extraneous variables fucking shit up. If he wanted something done right, he’d have to do it himself.
With one last glance back at the encampment, he slipped away into the shadows, heading towards the last known location of Colonel Alejandro Vargas and the rest of the Victor team.
–
He wished his rescue mission was more impressive than it actually was.
Maybe then Alejandro wouldn’t call him ‘the fucking help’, or however he put it.
Midnight stalked closer to the gunfight, the sounds of heavy machinery growing louder and louder as he ducked in and out of cover. Given the firepower, Midnight assumed that the cartel had decided to focus all of their chase into one of the two groups, and Alejandro’s group had taken the brunt of the damage.
That explained why Rodolfo’s team didn’t encounter any issues in their retreat – the cartel had focused all of their resources and attention onto Alejandro.
Silent as the night, Midnight approached the battle, formulating a plan in his mind. His fingers were itching to reach for the smoke bombs he had pocketed from the Los Vaqueros base. Something about them had called to him, and he liked the versatility they provided.
Create a distraction, exfil in the process. He pulled out the binoculars strapped to his belt and looked through them. Yes. Perfect. There was a tree line a full sprint away from the fight. If the Viktor team were to get some artificial cover, they could sprint towards the tree line underneath that guise, disappearing into the forest with ease.
It was a shoddy plan, but it was a plan regardless.
Besides, was Alejandro going to get himself out of this mess?
No. Chances are, the man was still hungover.
Fuckin’ moron.
With one steadying breath, Midnight activated his plan.
He snuck alongside the backside of whatever cover he could, keeping himself concealed until he was close enough to pop the tops of the smoke grenades and threw them with all his might. It felt completely idiotic to use smoke grenades in a rather open area, especially since smoke tended to dissipate quicker in the open air. But Midnight truly saw no other option – it was to do this, or leave Alejandro’s team on their own to succumb to the might of the combined forces of the cartel.
Dashing through the smoke, Viktor screamed for a retreat at the top of his lungs. He didn’t know if his comms were on – he had turned them off during the stealth part of his operation. Luckily enough, his panicked screams seemed to kick the remaining Los Vaqueros into gear. He saw men burst out from their hiding spots, from behind small rocks and splintered trees, and began sprinting towards the more secluded cover of the tree line.
Through all the chaos, one person stood out to him.
A man gritting his teeth, pushing his teammates in front of him as he limped forward, a hand desperately clamping over what Viktor assumed to be a gunshot wound.
Alejandro Vargas.
“Vamos, Vaqueros! Move! Move!” He was barking orders in the midst of the battle, even while clearly injured. A few other soldiers tried to put their hands on Alejandro, trying to help him walk, but he shoved their hands off of him and screamed at them to go on without him.
Hmph. How admirable.
From Viktor’s split-second assessment, his ankle could have been twisted or perhaps his leg had been shot – whatever it was, the injury was making it extremely difficult for him to walk.
Viktor cursed to himself. He wasn’t going to make it.
In a split-second decision, Viktor altered his path, positioning himself so that he was directly next to Alejandro as he limped. Alejandro’s sweat streaked face looked towards him, and recognition blossomed in his eyes. “Colonel Weisman!” he yelled.
Viktor nodded in greeting, maneuvering one of Alejandro’s arms around his shoulder. “Allow me to help, Colonel!”
Alejandro shrugged him off. “I’m fine.”
Viktor narrowed his eyes, hardening his grip and tugging Alejandro to his side as the other man yelped in surprise and pain. “Shut the fuck up, Vargas,” he snarled and luckily Alejandro acquiesced to his ministrations and allowed himself to be supported. Alejandro’s self-sacrificing attitude was NOT going to get them killed.
At least, not before Viktor gave him a piece of his mind.
–
It felt like eternity before they were returning to base, and Viktor refused to let go of Alejandro’s arm. It felt so stupid to have to hold him like this, as if Alejandro were merely a child about to be chastised by his mother.
But it was hard to get away from the man who had fallen asleep on his shoulder.
Viktor shifted uncomfortably on his seat, but at some point he just sighed and accepted that Alejandro was going to be using him as a pillow until further notice.
He practically had to pull the other man out of the truck, dragging him towards the infirmary on base to get him checked out.
But he decided that he and Alejandro were going to have some alone time.
Dragging the bloodied Colonel into the infirmary caused quite a stir, with nurses and doctors alike rushing to Viktor’s aid to treat the injured colonel. But Viktor wasn’t letting go of Alejandro that easily. He waved off the doctors, yelling about how he was combat medic certified and would see to the good care of the Colonel.
Vargas weakly waved off the medics, ordering them to assist the other injured men, and Viktor smirked in triumph. He had Alejandro to himself – now he could give him a piece of his fucking mind.
They walked in tandem to one of the rooms that were towards the back of the infirmary, with Alejandro collapsing on the observation table with a groan and Viktor making sure to lock the door behind him.
Patient doctor confidentiality was of the utmost importance.
Although Viktor had been working in the field for years at this point, in the medical bay is where he felt the most alive. He could make a difference here – not with bullets and weapons, but with healing and relief. His mother had always told him that his hands fit better in latex than in combat gloves, and he supposed she was right. But there was no changing the past, and all he could do was put on his protective equipment and focus on his patient.
It was eerily silent as Viktor began to bandage Alejandro’s wounds, the two of them keeping their mouths shut save for an occasional hiss that forced its way out of Alejandro’s mouth. Viktor was trying his best to be gentle, but he couldn’t lie and say that his fury from the failed operation was assuaged – it was very much still there, and directed at the very man responsible for the failure of the op.
“Just say it,” Alejandro muttered as Viktor wrapped a particularly nasty wound on his arm. “You don’t have to spare my feelings, Colonel.”
Hmph. Back to being called a title. Viktor shoved aside the hurt he felt at that. “What is there to say, Colonel?” he asked, tying off the bandage with one last tug.
Viktor’s hands stuttered as he finished tying the bandage. Why the hell did he feel hurt at Alejandro pulling away from him? Don’t get him wrong, he liked Alejandro as a person. Or used to like him until his little outburst outside of the common room the night before the operation. Everything had been fine up until that point! His wariness at the beginning of his Las Almas excursion had quickly been assuaged by his welcoming nature. The debrief for the mission could not have gone better. But the night before… that had changed everything about how Viktor viewed Colonel Vargas.
They were equals, yes, but Alejandro was the reigning officer here. For him to be keeping his head down like a kicked dog, subjecting himself to Viktor’s scrutiny… it was out of character.
Alejandro grimaced, refusing to meet Viktor’s gaze. It was clear his injuries were bothering him, and Viktor wasn't being the most gentle in his ministrations. In his defense, he knew how to administer limited first aid, and the colonel was most definitely not in critical condition. His rage and confusion had definitely seeped into his bones, puppeteering his actions with little kindness.
Viktor reached for another medical pad, dabbing it with alcohol before moving it towards Alejandro’s face. “Brace yourself. Might hurt.”
He gently dabbed the alcohol pad along a bullet graze on Alejandro’s cheek, and he hissed instinctively at the pain. “You’re seriously not going to say anything,” he said flatly, and Viktor rolled his eyes before continuing to dab up the blood that had smeared down Alejandro’s cheek. He stood up to his full height when he was done, admiring his handiwork.
“What good will it do if I say something, hm?” Viktor’s eyes settled on Alejandro, and it felt like he could see through the man for the first time. “Would my criticism really make you realize how badly you failed?”
Silence. Alejandro’s eyebrows furrowed in anger, and yet he remained silent. “I suppose not,” he responded.
Viktor scoffed. Alejandro had absolutely nothing to say for himself. “You are an arrogant fool, Alejandro Vargas. That’s all I’ll say.”
Alejandro shook his head, he gave a small chuckle that honestly surprised Viktor. “Guess I deserve that, don’t I.” Viktor continued dabbing up the bloodied scratches on Alejandro’s face – how he got that many, he’ll never know – and absent-mindedly grabbed Alejandro’s chin to angle his face to the side.
Their eyes locked, and Viktor suddenly felt frozen.
Those intelligent, perceptive, brown eyes. Watching his every move. Calculating and warm.
Always watching him.
Viktor swallowed, averting his gaze from Alejandro’s. He had more important things to focus on, like how he still wasn’t through with Alejandro’s patch up.
Alejandro was insanely lucky. He only sustained a few scrapes and bruises on the surface – nothing that was too difficult to fix.
That is, until Alejandro rolled up his pant leg to reveal the skin there being soaked with his blood.
It was a gnarly wound, residing on the meat of his thigh. It looked like the bullet tore through the outer area of the thigh, cutting through skin, blood vessels, and muscle alike. It was likely why Alejandro could barely stand on his own, and now that Viktor looked closer, it was also the reason for the discoloration of Alejandro’s pant leg as the blood soaked through the fabric.
“What the hell, Vargas?” Viktor asked incredulously, moving swiftly to prepare another wet pad to clean up the blood. “You’ve been losing blood this whole time!?”
This self-sacrificing idiot.
“Deserved it, no?” Alejandro slurred, and it was at this moment that Viktor realized just how pale he was. “Even got Rodolfo injured. Least I can do is…” he groaned in pain as Viktor slapped the wet gauze on his thigh, the gauze coming away a dark red as Viktor frantically tried to locate the origin of the wound. “Least I can do is take this on the chin.”
“You are such a fucking idiot,” Viktor growled. He was genuinely at a loss for words. Vargas had been essentially punishing himself by powering through the pain of his injuries. He was lucky that the bullet had made an exit through his flesh – otherwise it would have made the first aid process much more difficult.
Alejandro’s chest was heaving with effort as Viktor grabbed more gauze, again wetting it and slapping it to Alejandro’s thigh in an attempt to stem the bleeding. Words were tumbling from his mouth in a stream of consciousness, and Viktor feared that he may be going into shock. “Deserved it, didn’t I?” he mumbled. “Would rather me take it than you or Rodolfo anyhow.”
“I’d watch what you say about taking a bullet for a man you just met, Colonel,” Viktor said steadily, his eyes glued to the bleeding on Alejandro’s thigh. He just needed to keep applying pressure and keep the other man talking. An awake Alejandro was an alive Alejandro.
“Doesn’t matter,” Alejandro said, his eyes now watching Viktor’s hands as they worked on his wound. “You’re a brother in arms as far as I’m concerned.”
Viktor scoffed. “I appreciate the sentiment. But I’m just the help.” He tilted his head as he looked at Alejandro. “Isn’t that right?”
The way that Alejandro pursed his lips and averted his gaze felt so right to Viktor, and maybe he was slightly fucked up for feeling as vindictive as he did. But he didn’t care. He held the power now – a situation that directly opposed their other direct conversation outside of the common room. It was almost hilarious, seeing Alejandro act like a scorned lover.
Viktor turned around to reach for more gauze and fresh bandages, and Alejandro shifted uncomfortably on the table. “Not what I meant,” he mumbled, and Viktor raised an eyebrow, gently pressing a fresh gauze pad on the wound while starting to bandage the wound. “What did you mean then?” he inquired. Maybe he was a masochist for wanting to make Alejandro squirm, but he had to admit it was good fun.
“Look,” Alejandro sighed, groaning softly at the discomfort that formed from the pressure Viktor was putting on his wound, “we appreciate your help more than anything. Your insight, your skill, your expertise – it’s irreplaceable.” He paused, considering his next words. “What I said that night did not reflect my true feelings. It came from a place of anger and stress, and I apologize.”
Viktor chuckled as a small smile spread across his face. The words of praise were something that he appreciated, but it wasn’t enough to make him completely forget Alejandro’s previous statements. “I do my best, no matter the task, and I appreciate your apology.” he said plainly. “But you’re not forgiven. I think you’re going to have to do more than just ask to redeem yourself.”
Alejandro sighed. “I think I can live with that.”
He finished wrapping the bandages around the wound, giving it one last pat and admiring his handiwork. “All patched up,” he announced, standing to his full height and groaning as he stretched. He surely was not getting any younger.
“Thank you, Viktor,” Alejandro said, and he stood up from the examination table, hissing as he put weight on his injured leg. He gave Viktor a nod when he extended an arm, making sure the colonel wouldn’t fall. “I’m good,” he said shakily.
“Better stay off that leg for a while, Colonel. Doctor’s orders.” Viktor cheekily winked at the other man, and he laughed, hobbling his way towards the door of the room.
Oh, he was trying to leave? He was running away so soon?
“Ah, ah, Vargas,” Viktor chided, grabbing the man by the wrist before he could cross the threshold between the door and the hallway. “I’m not quite finished with you.”
Alejandro turned around sheepishly, and Viktor tilted his head at the man, examining him in his entirety.
“If you’re hurt,” Viktor said gravely, “you come to me. You don’t hobble around on an injured leg, with half of your blood supply leaking from a GSW. You don’t hide away because you fucked up. You own it, like a man. You get back up and try again. You say something you don’t mean? You don’t leave it up in the air. You either own your words or retract them, but not both.”
He looked Alejandro in the eyes. Those tired, brown eyes. Viktor understood him more than he thought. “Understood?”
Alejandro nodded. “Understood, sir.”
“Good. Rudy and I would rather hear a simple apology than have you dead and buried.”
Alejandro tilted his head, looking at Viktor inquisitively. “You and Rudy? I want to know your thoughts specifically.” He bit his lip before speaking again. “Don’t know what it is but I always value your opinion more than I should.”
Viktor thought about it for a second. What did he truly think about Alejandro Vargas? After everything he’s seen and experienced, how did you wrap someone like Alejandro Vargas up into one statement?
He took a deep breath before starting. “I’ll admit, I’ve grown partial to you, Alejandro Vargas. You’re brash and impulsive, but you’re daring and strong. Willing to do whatever it takes to accomplish your goal. Qualities of a good leader.” He smiled, and this time it was a genuine smile. “I can see why Rudy and your men follow you so closely. I know I would. You’re a little rough around the edges, but you remind me that we’re human.”
Alejandro laughed, and it was such a beautiful noise. “An honest review, aye? Thank you, my friend. That puts my curiosity to rest.”
A comfortable silence fell over both of them, and they both knew it was time to go back out and check on the rest of their squad. But the way Alejandro was looking at him… those calculating, intelligent eyes roving over every part of his body… it made Viktor shiver. Almost like there was something going unsaid. He raised an eyebrow inquisitively, and Alejandro sighed.
He stepped closer to Viktor, and a breath hitched in Viktor’s throat.
“Tell me if I’m reading things wrong. Okay?” Alejandro asked, and Viktor nodded shakily.
Alejandro’s fingers grazed his cheek, gently cupping his face.
Viktor felt paralyzed. It was good, so good. His touch was electric, somehow rough and coarse yet warm at the same time.
The last thing Viktor expected was for Alejandro Vargas to lean in and place his lips on his own.
He chirped in surprise, and Alejandro was immediately pulling away. “ Dios mío , I’m so, so sorry, that was-” he started, immediately stepping away from Viktor.
Almost in a trance, Viktor stepped forward, placing a hand on his hip and drawing him back into his body, pulling him into another kiss. This time, it was longer, with both of the men feeling each other out. Viktor felt Alejandro’s hand settle on his cheek again, but this time it stayed, and it felt so right .
Inwardly, Viktor didn’t know how to feel about this. He didn’t know how to feel about kissing a man. He didn’t know how to feel about kissing Alejandro Vargas.
But in the moment, it felt correct. So he turned off his brain for the time being, shut off the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind, and just allowed it to happen.
What a beautiful thing it was, to hurt and to heal.
Alejandro finally pulled away, and the two men stared at each other incredulously as they both gasped for breath. “Solid?” Alejandro asked a few seconds later, and Vikor nodded. He must look like a blushing mess – his face felt hot and he was trying to ignore what he was pretty sure was the blood in his body rushing south. “That was…” he started, but Alejandro seemed to have removed every thought from his brain with that one simple action.
“Think of it as a thank you gift,” Alejandro said cheekily, and Viktor rolled his eyes. Of course it wouldn’t be Alejandro Vargas if there wasn’t some bravado involved.
“I will gladly accept that gift,” Viktor said breathlessly. How Alejandro Vargas of all people had been the one to crack his hard exterior and worm his way into his heart, he’ll never know, but the memory of Alejandro’s lips on his own easily deleted all the doubt he might have been having in that moment.
“I’m going to go check on the rest of my men,” Alejandro said, breaking the spell of the moment. “I’ll… see you later?”
Viktor couldn’t help but chuckle at the hopefulness in Alejandro’s voice. “Yes. I’ll see you later. You know where to find me.”
Alejandro beamed at him. “Excellent.”