AN: I'm currently deployed to Afghanistan so I decided to get back into reading FF. I was reading Chuck fics over the last few months and noticed that several writers were re-doing some of their work. So I decided to look over mine and boy was I shocked. I noticed some very large mistakes, and how shallow some of it was. So while this is not a new story, it is improved. If you read the original and enjoyed it, you should like this even better. Thanks for reading.

Summer 2005

In the back room of a local pub six men were seated around a large green felt covered table, most often seen in casinos. The difference here was there is no mega lighting or glamorous décor, just a single light hanging above the table, and concrete wall that held framed pictures of famous local sports figures. Several men were smoking the finest Cuban cigars their ill-gotten gains could acquire. The smoke from them rose slowly upwards bearing a slight resemblance to ivy searching for a new place to grab and climb up on. Except for the dealer, the eyes of each man sitting at the table scanned the other men's faces looking for any small sign of their tell, which could help them figure out the others next move. The only sound in the room was the unmistakable voice of Frank Sinatra's My Way. Not another sound could be heard as the men continued their high stakes game of cat and mouse.

Josh Miller, a small time arms dealer, was seated closest to the dealer. He was not the biggest fish in the sea by any means, but the connections he did have were staggering. Josh had connections to one of the world's largest and most powerful arms dealers, Alexi Volkoff. He would buy weapons from Volkoff and sell them either on the streets or to the local Mafia. Josh took one last look at his opposition then snuck peak at his hole card. He took a long look at the large pile of chips, hesitated for a moment, then tossed in a stack of black chips.

"Mr. Miller raises 100," stated the dealer.

The next person in line is Connor MacArthur. Connor is the head of a terrorist cell for the IRA and master mind of one of the worst bombings in Northern Ireland. His goal today was securing more weapons and ammunition for his cause. Up until now he had been bluffing, but when his last raise of 50 was doubled, he deciding that discretion was the better part valor, he tosses his cards down folding his hand and leaves the table.

The next two men also fold. Tom and Harry Jones are middle level drug runners from Miami.

There now stand only one man in the way of Miller and his winning the hand. Tony Waytt, hit man for hire and general trouble shooter currently in the employment of Josh. Tony takes a long look over at his boss, the last obstacle to his winning the 1.5 million currently sitting on the table. He notices a very slight twitch above Josh's left eye, his tell. Pretending to give the other man a chance he exhales and shrugs his shoulders, giving off the air of defeat. He then pushes the same size stack into the center of the table adding it to the pot. He gets up and moves from the table, and with a resigned voice says,

"I call Josh, wadda ya have?"

"Trip tens," Miller replies as he flips his hole card.

Waytt cocks his head to the left and lets a small smirk cross his lips, "Todays not your day boss, flush" as Tony turns the last card over. His reveal shows five diamonds.

"Son of a bitch!"

"Told ya boss not your day. Now down to business, when can I expect my winnings to be wired to my account?"

Several minutes later Tony's phone sounds an alert letting him know that his money was deposited and tucked safely in his account. After verifying that it was all there, he took a look at his balance; his total was now just over 5 million. Not a bad little gig I got going here!

"Waytt, word on the street has it my boss is looking for a good man. He's been following your work for a while now and he's impressed. Don't get me wrong, I don't to lose you but when the boss wants something he gets it. I have no intention of crossing Volkoff that would be hazardous to my health."

"That sounds good to me Mr. Miller. So when and where will I meet my new boss?" queried Tony.

"You'll fly to London and meet her there. She's the bosses second in command and goes by the name of…"

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(a few hours earlier across town)

"Bryce, I really don't think this is a good idea. I keep telling you we need to tell Graham, not going off halfcocked like this."

"Look," Bryce sighs "Sarah…it's low risk. I thought I recognized this guy when I saw him the other day in the bar we were watching, so I sent his description to the analysts at Langley. They identified him as Josh Miller. While you were sleeping I did some checking around and he's going to be playing poker with some of his business associates later today."

Sarah just sighs and says with resignation, "Let me see what you have."

Bryce pulls a folder from his carry bag and lays it on the table. He slides a couple of pictures across the table and says, "This is the guy we want, Josh Miller. He's a small time arms dealer but he's supposed to have connections to a real bad dude, Alexi Volkoff. If we can nab him and get to Volkoff, it would be a boost to our careers."

"Between us, the NSA and the ATF, we've been after him forever. If we grab him and manage to get to Volkoff maybe this won't be so bad after all. But I'm warning you, if this goes south, I'll kick your ass for dragging me along. Understand?"

"It's gonna be a piece of cake, that's why I want to do this. Do you know what it will do for our reps when we bring this guy in?"

"You're right about the push it would give us, but what about the rest of men he is playing poker with. How do they fit into all this?"

"Two of the guys are drug runners. Tom and Harry Jones are brothers that work out of Miami. Not really our concern. We can turn them over to the DEA and let them handle it. Show some interagency collaboration. The next guy, Connor MacArthur is a terrorist with the IRA. Again not our concern, we can toss him to the FBI. The last guy is the one we need to be careful of." Bryce slides the last picture across the table.

"Tony Waytt, He's Miller's muscle. Under no circumstance underestimate him. From the information Langley sent me, he's killed most of Miller's competition off. If you get the chance, shoot him, don't kill him though. He's worked for a few people we can use information on."

"Fine by me. So when do we make our move?"

"The game is supposed to start in a few hours so we'll go in about 4 hours. They should be in the middle of playing by then."

"Sounds good, let's grab some food before its go time." Sarah arose room her chair and made her way to the small kitchenette to garb some food.

Several hours later the pair dressed in black BDU's and wearing baklava's to hide their faces entered the small bar where the poker game was taking place. Bryce and Sarah waived their guns in the air and fired off a few rounds to get the patrons attention.

"Everyone get out, NOW!" shouted Bryce. The five or so men sitting at the bar had no trouble following that order. They knew what type of things went on this neighborhood and were not about to involved with the goings on of the local mob. At the same time Bryce was barking orders Sarah was taking care of the 2 men that were guarding the door. Two quick shots from her tranq gun found their mark and both guards were in lala land. She quickly holstered her tranq gun and pulled out her normal colt. Seconds later they crashed into the room.

(Time lines catch up here)

"You'll fly to London and meet her there. She's the bosses second in command and goes by the name of…suddenly shots rang out from the bar area. The men that were still seated jumped to their feet sending the chairs they were sitting on crashing against the wall. In spite of the noise around him Tony caught the name just as the door came crashing in on them.

Bryce wasted no time in taking on the two men closest to the door; Tom and Harry were the first to go down from a flurry of kicks and punches. Sarah came rushing in right behind Bryce went for the first target available, Tony. Tony noticed the pistol being raised and took two quick steps towards Sarah and slightly off to her side. This small change in direction caused Sarah to adjust her aim to get a clean shot. Tony used that extra time to lash out with his left hand. It connected solidly with her wrist knocking the gun away. Sarah adjusted smartly to the loss of her weapon and went into her combat stance, preparing for hand to hand combat. During her time at the farm she was one of the best at hand to hand.

Tony only had one personal rule, he had to see the face of the person he defeated before he either killed them or knocked them out. He needed to know without a doubt the person was his intended target. He knew he was a killer, but no innocents had been killed by his hand. After a barrage of punches and kicks had been thrown by both combatants, Tony made his move to end the fight. Feinting with his left hand he got Sarah to drop her guard just enough to land a shot to her stomach. She only buckled for a second but it was enough of a delay for Tony to grab her baklava and rip it off her head. As soon as he saw her face he froze.

Sarah Walker CIA, SHIT what the fuck is the CIA doing here? That must be her partner. This just went to hell in a hand basket. As the final part of his thought finished he heard a shot ring out, and then felt a blinding flash of pain in his right shoulder and then nothing.

Once Waytt went down, the others that were still standing lost the desire to resist and surrendered. Bryce called the proper authorities and a cleanup team to secure the area and take care of the prisoners. Tony was taken to a secure hospital under heavy guard to have his shoulder worked on. When the minor details were taken care of, Bryce put the call in to Director Graham.

"Graham secure."

"Larkin Secure, Walker and I just apprehended Josh Miller and Connor MacArthur. We also have two minor players that we turned over to the DEA."

"Very good work Larkin and Walker. From you're last report you sent in, the mission you are currently on is at a standstill?"

"That's correct Sir. Do you have any more intel that will help us out?"

"We have no more information at this time. In light of today's events why don't you and Walker head back here and take some time off. You can fill me in then on what happened and how you put the plan together. I'll see you both in a few days."

"Told you it was all gonna work out," Bryce said with a smug look on his face. Sarah never noticed the look on Bryce's face because she was deep in thought. She was replaying the fight with Waytt over again in her head. She had opponents in the same position she was in just before Bryce shot Waytt. He should have landed the final blow; it's what she would have done. Yet this cold blooded killer hesitated for just a second when he saw her face. It was if he recognized her from somewhere. She almost believed something else was going on and when they got back there would be hell to pay.