A/N: (Dec 30, 2009) - For those wondering WTF on the update notification - I realised last night that there was a whole chapter (the mission debrief scene) missing from the version of this story! The debrief scene is the funny that makes everything else worthwhile, just like in SAS, so I re-posted the last two chapters plus the debrief to include it. Because of the story structure, the debrief comes before the epilogue. So, for anyone looking for the new content, go back one chapter and you'll have it. I apologize to everyone who didn't get the missing chapter before!

Seek and Destroy Seek and Destroy - Epilogue

-Infie

{One year later}

Andrew Thomas shifted in his seat to ease the ache in his leg. The man next to him gave him a pointed glare. Andrew just smiled and rubbed his thigh. "Old war wound," he said by way of explanation. The other man snorted and turned away. Andrew wriggled again, then gave up and stood to stretch his legs. Luckily he had an aisle seat, and the steps were handy for that purpose.

He looked out over the expanse of what had once been beautiful Safeco Stadium, but was now a sooty, scorched shadow of its former self. It was amazing that baseball had survived the pulse, let alone the years of strife afterwards. But here it was, still going strong.

He swung his leg a little and watched the game idly, thrusting his hands into his pockets. His fingers stubbed the ticket that had brought him here, and he drew it out to look at it.

Mariners vs. Orioles. Good seats along the baseline, a few rows back. In the catch zone, if he was lucky. He laughed at himself, ignoring the sideways looks sent his way. Lucky. Well, he certainly qualified. He wondered when 494 was going to come tap him on the shoulder, some smartass comment on his lips. He grinned. He couldn't wait.

On the field, the Mariners were at bat, with three men on base. The pitcher threw his third pitch in the dirt, and the coach had had enough. He walked up the steps of the dugout, gesturing to the bullpen, slapping his right arm. The assistant manager was on the phone, seconding the request, and the relief pitcher came through the doors at the end of the field and headed for the mound.

Andrew took advantage of the lull in the action to wave down one of the hotdog and beer vendors. Of course, these days they all wore Glocks, but at least the thought was the same. He bought a sausage and a beer, and took his seat.

A loud 'thwock' startled him into looking at the field. The catcher was waving his hand, shaking off the sting of the pitch before glaring and throwing the ball back to the pitcher. Andrew's eyes followed the ball to the pitcher's glove, then lifted to his face.

To see 494's eyes laughing back at him.

"Sonofabitch!" Andrew stared in shock. "On the dock... he heard me!" 494 grinned widely and turned back to the plate, digging his toe in the dirt. Andrew looked at his jersey and laughed out loud. 'Forth' read the letters across the shoulders, and a huge 94 took up the rest of the back. Andrew wiped tears of laughter from his eyes and looked around, closely this time. Across the stadium from his seat, he saw Viktor, a Mariner's cap on his head. Even as he recognized the transgenic, Viktor raised his hand with a smile. The young man pointed up at the JumboTron. Andrew looked.

"Happy Birthday, Andrew Thomas!" it read, then switched to digitized fireworks that exploded and left behind a flaming '1'. Andrew sucked in his breath too hard and choked a little, making the scar on his neck pull. He stretched it a little, laughing in tiny snorts until the cramp eased and he could let out the huge belly laughs. When he looked again, another birthday had taken its place.

'Huh,' he thought. 'Andrew Thomas, one year old today.' He wiped his eyes again and catalogued all the aches and pains. 'I sure feel old for such a youngster.' He looked back at 494, who had paused under the guise of drying his hands. He tossed the resin ball aside and gave Andrews another cocky grin. 'Happy birthday,' he mouthed.

Viktor was talking rapidly into a cell phone, which he snapped closed with what looked very much like annoyance. His lips moved, and 494 looked over at him sharply, then nodded slightly and turned back to the plate. His next three pitches were brilliant; fastballs on the lower inside corner, every pitcher's dream. The batter looked in disbelief at the third perfect pitch and threw his bat in disgust. Third out.

494 trotted off the field, stopping briefly to speak to the manager, stripping out of his jersey as he did so. The manager argued loudly, but 494 just handed him the shirt and shrugged in that indifferent way that Andrew had always found so irritating. He turned and looked across the field, raising his hand to his old friend. Andrew waved back. "Thanks," he said out loud, knowing that even if 494 couldn't hear him, he would see his lips form the words. "I can't think of a better present." 494 nodded and disappeared down the tunnel to the showers. When Andrews looked, he was unsurprised to find Viktor gone, too.

494 pulled up to the gates of the Manticore facility and glanced at 511 as he waited for the guards to open up. "Did you like the game?" he asked with a grin.

511 slouched deeper in his seat, sulking. "I would have liked it better if I'd gotten to play, too."

494 smirked. "Next time," he said. "What can I say? The man asked for the Orioles, and he asked for me." He swatted at 511's Mariner's cap. 511 batted his hand away irritably.

"He didn't know me, then."

494 laughed and drove through the now open gates. "Did they say what they wanted?" he asked again.

"Nah, just that we're being sent out."

494's eyes shuttered and his face stilled. "Us, as in together?"

"Yeah." 511 gave him a sidelong glance. "You okay with that?"

494 pulled into a parking space and stepped on the brake with unnecessary force. 511 unbuckled and shook his head as he got out of the car. "So... no, then."

"I work alone." 494 gritted as they headed for the barracks.

"Hey, it's not me you need to convince." 511 held up his hands defensively.

"I know." 494 blew out his breath. "I just hate this head-games stuff."

"Yeah." 511 agreed easily. "On the other hand, you could have worse company!" He disappeared into his barrack, leaving 494 staring after him.

"Yeah, bro," he muttered. "That's what I'm worried about."

Lydecker motioned for 494 to enter as he saw his shadow darken the office doorway. 494 came in and snapped to attention. "494, reporting as ordered, sir."

"At ease," Lydecker replied, lifting a blue plastic folder from his desk and holding it out. "Your mission brief."

494 took it. "Sir, this is a joint mission?"

Lydecker sighed. "Yes. I will have 511 assign any additional resources you'll require." 494's lips tightened minutely, but Lydecker was pleased to see no other sign of his annoyance. "Read the brief, soldier."

494 opened the brief and began to read. He froze, eyes raising to Lydecker's. "That's right, 494." Lydecker nodded curtly. "You're going to Uzbekistan."

{End}

A/N: Hey! Yeah, not like SaS, but then, what is?
Yes, the brief that 494 is reading is the Uzbekistan mission brief found at the beginning of SaS.

A BIG heartfelt THANK YOU to Era, who brought Andrews to life in Hostile Territory, and kindly agreed to let me borrow him. Andrews is all his. =) And if you've never read HT, you should.

Really the end this time. Bye all!