The mission was a success. Well... sort of.

Laswell had joined the 141 in their most recent op. It was a success; however, the heat it kicked up had them off-grid and ghosted. No radio, no contact, no base. Not for a while.

Rain patters against the windshield of the muddy, camouflaged truck as it pulls up to a farmhouse in the peaceful countryside.

"My sister's place," Laswell finally answers after being questioned on their whereabouts for the hundredth time. "They raise goats, chickens, all that. She and her husband won't ask questions. She knows how to keep quiet."

The farmhouse sits at the foot of a hill, tucked between groves of apple trees and sloping meadows. A wide porch wraps around it, glowing with soft yellow light.

Laswell's sister, Tess, opens the door before they reach it. The sisters hug wordlessly, then wave the others inside.

Inside, the house is warm and smells faintly of woodsmoke and sage. A fire pops quietly in the corner, and there's a big orange cat stretched across the couch like it pays rent.

Tess ushers them in, offering what she has- stew, warm bread, quiet rooms. Her husband, Jeff, gives a quiet nod of respect and disappears to prepare sleeping space in the barn's loft.

The team takes turns showering, eating in near silence, boots off, shoulders gradually relaxing. They decompress slowly, in their own ways.

Price and Laswell, of course, never take a break from strategizing, Ghost cleans up and polishes his weapons, Gaz plays with the cat, and Soap is snoring loudly on a pull-out couch.

Around 9 p.m., the sound of an engine roaring comes from the garage, only to shut off a few moments later.

"I'm home!"

Laswell smiles for the first time since arriving after hearing that voice. You.

No one she works with knew that she's an aunt before this, but they're going to find out now.