As Jonathan was disassembling his rifle, a knock echoed from the door.

“Ja!” he called out, threading an old T-shirt through the lower receiver to clean it.

“Yo,” Przemek greeted calmly as he entered.

“Thought you were still in a debrief?” Jonathan asked, inspecting the barrel.

“Lasted long enough. The last of the folks from Norrköping are packing up,” Przemek replied, picking up Jonathan’s receiver to check it over.

“Sorry I couldn’t come and get you. Everyone was up in arms, acting like I was indispensable or something,” Przemek added.

“Don’t mention it. We shouldn’t have gotten separated in the first place,” Jonathan said, prepping the cleaning rod and bore brush.

“I spoke to Oscar—he had nothing but praise for you,” Przemek said.

Jonathan sighed, running the rod through the barrel. “I never should’ve put us in that mess. I should’ve sent more of us in there. What was I thinking, sending just four when we had maybe forty guys in that convoy?”

“Forty men sat back while you did the hard work. Even with your arm messed up, they didn’t object to your plan. It was a good call. Sometimes things don’t work out, and there’s not much you can do. Don’t beat yourself up over this or Anton,” Przemek said, trying to reassure him.

He pulled a bottle from his backpack and handed it to Jonathan. “I scammed this from one of the Norrköping guys for you. Don’t be stingy with the oil—the more, the better.”

“Oh, and before they evacuated Skadi, she was adamant about giving this back to you. Also, she said you should visit if you have the time,” Przemek added, passing over a hoodie.

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Jonathan accepted it with a half-worried smile. “Will she be alright?”

“She should be. They’ve got better medical equipment and staff back in Norrköping. You saved her life, Jan. Not many people have nerves of steel like yours,” Przemek said, inspecting the barrel Jonathan had just cleaned.

Jonathan shot Przemek a warm smile.

“You need any help with your rifle?” Przemek asked, his tone kind.

“No, thanks. I’ve got about ten minutes left to finish up. Then I’ll clean up and grab some food. We’re still meeting with the rest of the guys at 8 p.m. to discuss everything, right?” Jonathan replied.

“Yup, but swing by the infirmary first. It’s quieter now, so get your arm and hand checked out. And don’t stress if you’re a bit late—we’ll wait for you,” Przemek reassured him with a gentle nod.

Jonathan nodded, appreciating Przemek’s concern. “Thanks, man. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Adrenaline fading, Jonathan’s body started to shake—not from the cold or the pain, but from the shock of everything the day had thrown at him. For a fleeting moment, he even considered reaching for the coke tucked away in his bag, a quick fix to steady his nerves. But before the thought could take root, Przemek cast him a final glance. There was no need for words; the unspoken understanding in his eyes was enough. Jonathan watched as he turned and left, a sense of camaraderie settling over him—the kind that could only be forged in shared hells like the one they’d just survived.

He turned back to his rifle, hands automatically moving through the familiar motions of cleaning it. The rhythmic task grounded him, pulling his mind away from the chaos of the day. These moments after a mission were always the same—a delicate balance of reflection, exhaustion, and the relentless push to keep going.

When the rifle was finally clean, he set it aside with care, but his thoughts wandered back to Skadi and Anton. The memory of his violent death that could have been his just as easily and Skadi’s injury hit him like a sucker punch, the images seared into his mind. A knot of worry tightened in his chest, gnawing at him despite knowing she was in capable hands. The uncertainty was a slow, bitter poison.

He washed up, letting the cold water sting his hands—a sharp reminder of the day’s trials. The rifle might be spotless now, but his mind was far from clear. Shrugging on his jacket, he took a steadying breath and headed toward the infirmary. The crisp evening air bit at his skin, though it was nothing compared to the bone-deep cold of the day they’d endured.

The team could wait. He needed to make sure he was okay first. Przemek’s parting glance still lingered in his mind, a quiet reassurance that he’d done all he could. Whatever came next, Jonathan knew he wasn’t alone in this fight.

And for now, that was enough.