"Awww, and here I really wanted to show off the rest of my wardrobe." He nudges York back and watches until he's gone before heading back to his own quarters.

/Not negotiable, Washington./

The reply is there in flashing text when he checks. She's pissed. Impatient.

/Where were you?/ is the snarl when he calls. /You missed check in./

"I was doing my job," he replies. Lays everything he has weapons wise out on the bunk. All of it. He'll need all of it. More than that. He'll hit one of the caches when he heads out.

/We need him out of here. He's too dangerous. We're lucky I'm not just asking you to shoot him./

"Look he-... he's good here. They like him. Worship him. Better to wait for an assault. Take him out then. They'll fight tooth and nail to get revenge for him. He'll be a martyr."

/Got other plans./

"What? Carolina-"

/Don't question me Wash. Just get him here./

It comes with a flare of coordinates and a dead connection.

Fuck. No, this can't be happening. Why now?

He shoves what he can into a duffle, everything that he doesn't need, stashes it under the bed for now. Gives York too much clue if he runs now. Can't have him catching up.

He sets aside the armour for now, does what he can to make sure it's in top condition, then heads over to the mess. Waits for York.