8. Against All Odds.

I sat behind my cluttered desk in Brazil, the glow of the late afternoon sun filtering through the blinds, casting stripes of light and shadow across the room. I pored over the latest report with intense focus; tomorrow marked the beginning of my mission, a culmination of hard work and determination. I would not be labeled as an addict—I was resolute in proving that to both myself and the others. 

After we had left the damn bunker, I returned to base, where some members of our pack, including Damon and Mariella, retreated to the pack house to recover from the effects of the blood. Meaning intense fuckfest. Wulfe and Magnum remained engrossed in their missions, grappling with their own struggles linked to that same blood. They had the audacity to tag me as an addict, a stigma I found deeply frustrating. 

In the days leading up to my current position, I had moved myself to Brazil, strategizing carefully as my mission drew closer, ensuring everything was in order. My team was on the brink of arriving, and I could feel the anticipation brewing within me. We would soon gather to review our plan of attack, assessing what resources were necessary and how best to prepare for the challenges ahead.

Despite my resolve, a flicker of irritation lingered in my heart. The entire pack had witnessed Wulfe's brash declaration, and I felt the weight of their judgment over me. I was not weak. I could sustain myself on a minimal amount of blood, and I had proven that over the past three days. I was in control, and I intended to stay that way.

A series of knocks interrupted my thoughts, and I opened the door to my team. They filed in, and we congregated around the large table that dominated the center of the room. I had spread out blueprints and mission plans, each document a testament to our preparation. 

"This is a vast place," I began, my voice steady. "We need to ensure we check every corner. Three floors must be emptied simultaneously. We have enough personnel on the ground to both receive and transport them effectively." 

My finger traced the outline of certain windows on the blueprints. "The first team will place their tubes in these windows—here and here."

I showed two on either side of the floor. "The next team will use these for their floor, ensuring that our tubes don't get tangled up. Finally, the last team, you're assigned these windows. Once your floor is cleared, you'll move on to the next available one. Only when you've completed this task, do you check for a free floor. We don't reserve spaces; one unexpected complication can change everything. We must keep moving, remain agile, and not wait for a team that might encounter a setback."

My team nodded in agreement, their expressions showing that they understood the gravity of our mission. So far, so good. The planning had begun, and with it, our preparation for what lay ahead.

I said, "Now, top floor. Ben and Dianna, you go to the top floor."

Dianna asked, "Were we supposed to go to the ground floor? Wasn't it planned for Fred and Anna to go to the top floor?"

I frowned and checked the list on which I had assigned everyone's positions. "Oh, yeah, my bad. Well, Fred and Anna, you are going to the top floor. That means you'll go in first after Georgie ensures your path is safe. He will be your backup. I know Jason was supposed to be, but he had a family crisis. Is there a problem with this?"

My team shook their heads. We had over 30 people on this mission, so managing who goes where and who does what was a bit overwhelming. And when there were last-minute changes like this, my nerves were frayed.

As I continued to go over everyone's roles, someone always had something to say, to correct me. I snapped at them. What the fuck was wrong with them? Why were they all over me? Finally, I got my plan ready.

Josie, one of our members from the outside team, asked, "Who is your backup, Flea? I know you're the one who checks out the basement and such, but you should have a backup and a partner as well."

Before I had time to answer, my door opened and Tim and Taylor stepped in. Tim said, "I am her backup/partner with Taylor. We'll keep her safe."

I rolled my eyes and said, "No need. I'm not going anywhere dangerous. We're still missing at least three destroyers, so you two will be busy."

Taylor smiled, and my door opened again. A big burly man entered with three almost equally big men in tow. I smiled at him. It had been forever since I had seen my dear friend Luiz Esteban. I went to him and hugged him. He hugged me back as hard as he could. Being a werewolf alpha, he had some power in his hug.

He said, "Hello, Barbie. I heard you were short on guys, so I thought we would come along to see if you still had it."

I smiled at him and replied, "Sure. I still have it and then some more. But sure, we have a big place to take down and lots of people to save. It's going to take some time."

Tim turned to me and said, "You can see that we have more people now, so you'll be safe. We'll make sure of it. After all, we're a pack now."

I nodded, grateful to have my defenders by my side. I knew I would be fine. This mission was going to be a great success, just like before. I briefed Luiz and his team, as well as Tim and Taylor, on the specifics of the mission. We were all well-prepared, like a well-choreographed dance.

I didn't mention anything about what happened in the bunker or the absurd accusations of being an addict. I was determined to prove myself to both myself and the others. Luiz and I walked to the armory to gather supplies for everyone. They found suitable armored jackets, and Luiz was excited to see Damon and Adam again after such a long time. Luiz was one of my oldest trusted members, and they were rare and valuable to me.

Ruby was also part of the mission. Although she wasn't thrilled about seeing the Salvatores, she had become one of Wulfe's and was content with that. Ruby was a skilled professional, and her experience as a flea had prepared her, despite the wounds left by Sapphire's death. I wasn't sure if she had found anyone else since then, but she was a dear friend to me, and I was glad to have her on my team.

I helped them with the necessary gear for the mission, ensuring they had the right sizes, and reserved the rest for tomorrow. It was customary to prepare reserve vests and equipment the day before a mission. I showed Luiz my custom Glock, which had a built-in suppressor that didn't affect aim or range. It could also accommodate an extra-large magazine and even explosive bullets if needed. I kept those reserved for myself.

My gear was in my office, as usual. In Brazil, we had several bases, so this one wasn't as large as the one in Bolivia. However, we still had around 50 people milling around at any given time. With 30 of us on this mission, the base would be relatively empty, at least while we were away. I knew I didn't have enough bases in South America, even though Magnum had made some earlier. He had been called away for other matters, so it didn't quite fulfill my original plans. But perhaps after this mission or a few others, if I needed to go on a sniping spree, I could recruit more members. 

I might someday go to Australia too. I had rarely done any gigs there, if ever, but I had some connections and missions in that country. It might be a chance to see how they do things. But then again, it could be hot, and there are nasty snakes and such. I'm not sure if Australia is a good place for me.

Luiz was getting to know everyone, so I went to my office to look up what was on the roster next—what would be my next mission after this one? It took a little time after a mission to arrange everything, so I wouldn't be ready to deploy for the next one as I hadn't planned to go on any.

I was doing my paperwork when I walked up to the kitchen to grab a bite to eat. After that, I headed to the gym—not to unload, but just to stretch a bit and have some fun. I wasn't planning to drain my energy just before the mission, as I needed it for that. Afterward, I might take Tim or Taylor along for some fun at the gym, but I wasn't sure yet.

After a few hours at the gym, I returned to my office. I was trying to focus on my paperwork, but my mind was restless. So many thoughts were flitting through my mind, making it hard for me to concentrate. But then again, I was about to deploy for a big mission in less than six hours, so I suppose I was more tuned in to that than to my paperwork.

I wasn't even thinking about the pack. Damon had strengthened our bond, which was fine by me; I didn't need him. I scoffed at his declaration that he would always be there for me—all I had to do was ask. But no, Wulfe had labeled me as an addict, claiming he had no control over himself when he had that blood. That didn't mean anything to me.

A few hours later, I was ready to start gearing up. The first thing I did was take a shower. I was still reeling from Wulfe's accusation, and as I washed myself, my frustration boiled over. I hit my fist against the wall, shattering tiles and breaking my knuckles. However, my wounds healed almost instantly, even as the water hit them and made them sting.

I cursed myself, saying, "Fucking idiot, I'm fine. I'm not any goddamn addict."

I rinsed my hands so I could continue washing myself and my hair. After the shower, I felt even more irritated when I saw the broken tiles—a visible mark of my lack of self-control. It wasn't typical for me to hit walls with my fists.

I proceeded to dry myself off. I had reserved the perfect clothes to ensure that my gear would be as comfortable as possible, allowing me to move freely. It was hot in Brazil, so staying cool was important. If this had been a mission in Canada during the winter, I would have chosen a different set of thermal clothes to keep warm. 

As I dressed and prepared for the mission, Roxette's "Perfect Day" started playing in my mind. No one had sent it; it just surfaced from my memories. Well, this would be a perfect day for many—it marked the start of something new, and we aimed to do good in the world.

I walked up to my locker, opened it, and began to gear up. I was meticulous about putting on as much protective gear as was necessary, and I added a few extra items, too. I was one of the medics on this mission, although my bag wasn't as full as our official medic Willie's. Still, I had my kit, which included supplies for myself, a few scalpels, a stapler, and sedatives for the patients.

I had read the Number Four field operation manual, but it wasn't always practical to follow it strictly. Sometimes, you have to act quickly; it might take time to find those gloves, and at that moment, someone could die or worsen their condition. It was easier to give them antibiotics afterward than to arrange a funeral—my motto.

Luiz came to my door while I was lacing my boots. He was fully geared up as well and came over to sit on the sofa. My sofa was old but incredibly soft; you really sink into it.

He looked at me and said, "You, Barbie, have changed a lot. I mean, I would never have thought that the Barbie who walked into my place and beat me up would become one tough leader. And look at everything you've gone through."

I nodded and grunted in acknowledgment, then replied, "Life isn't easy. Now, with ten Damons in our pack, they made our pack bigger after the hive. We're ten people larger. Thanks to my vampire side, I was able to save the Salvatores from their sire, and my vampire side is stronger than ever."

He nodded in understanding and said, "You're still here; you're an amazing leader. And this mission—oh, how I wish we could have a public saving mission in these parts too. We have good people in the government, and if we could just gather evidence, victims like you did in your time, America's Sweetheart."

I rolled my eyes and said, "Oh, please, don't call me that. It still haunts me every time someone brings it up. People always want to interview America's sweetheart and see what I'm up to these days."

He smiled, finding it amusing, but for me, it was mostly irritating. I never wanted to be a celebrity, and I had managed to keep it mostly under wraps. I didn't want to give Damon any ideas to put me back into the spotlight as America's sweetheart or whatever they would call me. They would just retell my story, how I was tortured, and how we found each other. Blah blah. 

It was almost time for the mission, and I had informed Luis about my sniper victims. He and a few other guys were skilled with guns, but I would still run it by Murdock for his approval. We would only use snipers that Murdock had given the green light to. Luis was also ready to meet him, having no problem with this particular mission. I was so eager to finally do some field work instead of sitting behind a desk all the time. I felt incredibly restless, but this mission would help. It would be perfect.