"Well if you'd followed orders, you wouldn't have been in my way," Storm said. "Cadet, give him a hand. We're out of here."

The rest of their flight to Timber passed without event or haste. Storm kept them to a slow pace, not wanting to tax Dante further. She took no satisfaction from injuring him, no matter how minor it was. It was painfully obvious that they were not going to be a cohesive unit, no matter how hard she tried. Dante was too rash, Storm herself too objective. It was a dangerous combination. Even Ryan's easygoing nature could not lift the miasma of tension between them.

Finally Timber came into view in the deepening light of late afternoon. Storm scouted ahead a bit, assessing any possible threats. She found nothing, not a hint of Galbadians anywhere. That suited her just fine. Still, she'd take no chances. She returned to the others, waiting just beyond the outskirts of the town.

"We need to find a safehouse for the night. Ryan, Dante, either of you know where we can go? I've never been here on official business."

Only unofficial. It wasn't something she liked remember. She knew she would still see it as they walked, no matter how long it had been. Blood, bodies, the searing fire of the bullet as it lodged in her body. She rubbed her shoulder reflexively, then realized what she was doing. She yanked her hand away, snapping herself back to the present.