NationStates Jolt Archive

Sea Haven, Imitora

The small, coastal cottage remained unlit, save for the orange flicker through the windows of the old building. Sea Haven itself was a large resort area, but on the southern outskirts of the town, the locals lived in houses best described as quaint, with a lifestyle to match. Inside the single cabin, a fire flicked away providing light and warmth. If it weren’t for the pictures hanging on the wall of military units, rifles hung randomly, and a few medal display cases, it would seem to be out of a country living catalogue.

A single occupant managed the cabin, and he sat, as he often did, in an over stuffed plush leather chair, sipping at coffee that was five degrees too warm, staring into the fire. He looked his age, with long, straight white hair hanging down past his shoulders, and a full white mustache to match. If anyone on the operation knew his true age, the event would only be that much harder. Still, even with his knowledge of the operation, he sat quietly. The warm coffee was nice, the hint of whiskey floating up from the steam intoxicated him slowly, and he smiled a soft, old man’s smile.

With little notice, the back door to the single room cabin exploded open, shards of wood from the door frame flying out to the room. The assault team, an ICIA assault team composed mostly of individuals of the former IMSPECWAR units, stormed the room with a sort of veracity expected of a team hitting a hostage filled ware house, not a single room cabin. The old man in the chair didn’t move, but simply sat back and watched the tactical ballet unfold. With much skill, the eight man team moved with grace through the room, securing the small quasi rooms, holding each corner. With loud, booming voices, the announced clear, and all motion stopped as green dots danced across his chest.

“Five seconds. Not to bad. Not great, either.” His old voice was dry and crackled, filled with an air of confidence and experience. His words were almost a challenge, all but informing the other shooters in the room that even now, he could kill them all with little effort.

“Gentlemen, please, at ease. This man wont fight.” The voice belonged to another man, one dressed in a suit that oozed money. It was not the suit that belonged to some low level ICIA lackey or desk jockey, but one that belonged to not only the Director of the ICIA, but the First Speaker’s Chief Security Advisor. “Am I right, Saber?”

“Of course Broad Sword. Why would I have any reason to take out these men, I’ve always cooperated in the past.”

“Indeed. That’s what would make this so hard. From my records, well over eighty eight years of outstanding service to the High Republic. And that’s on record. What is it really, at least one hundred.”

“I lost count.”

“I’m sure. Well, you know how this goes. Your son is already dead, so the money and such will automatically be forwarded on to your grand son. You’d like him, he’s a good kid, working with The Detachment. Already been on a few successful ops.”

“I know, I follow the reports.”

“So you aren’t gonna put up a fight, a last ditch?”

“Why? I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of having a reason to kill me.”

“I’m not killing you, Robert. I’m simply closing a file.”

“Pity.”

David DeMonthams, Director of Intelligence and the First Speaker’s Chief Security Advisor removed the Sig Sauer P226 from its holster with little flair, raised the weapon, and squeezed the trigger. A single 9mm CorBon DPX round slammed directly into the older man’s forehead, his body slamming back the rocking forward as life left him.

DeMonthams pulled a cell phone from his pocket, snapped it open, and dialed. He paused, and then answered. “Yes, this Broad Sword. Saber is out. That takes out two of the current three in the Edge line, how is the Cat line?” He paused, and nodded. “Excellent. That leaves only Razor left.”
__

Northampton, Imitora

The ICIA head quarters was a massive building in the government sector of Imitora’s capital city. It wasn’t the tallest, no, but at one hundred and ten stories, it was definitely large. It was on the thirty third floor where the hackers, computer trackers, and the like did their work. Each one had been assigned a specific task, be it from designing viruses to set upon other nations’ computer systems to searching the data bases of some of the most powerful people in the world.

The air in the ICIA’s EID Third Watch was far different from that even near the rest of the EID, let alone the ICIA. There were no high cost suits and analysis numbers being thrown around, but instead rock music being played loudly and agents wearing t-shirts and jeans. It was relaxed, many of the agents with their feet up on desks, looking at computer printouts, and eating pizza or fast food.

Sitting at a somewhat dark corner off to the side of one of the many sub offices on the floor, Special Agent Darren Winston’s hand danced over a keyboard. The world was non existent to him, plugged out by an iPod with ear buds pushed deep into his ears. The hard, throbbing Psy-Trance zoned him out has he proceeded to find new computer systems to hack into. He wasn’t looking for information, but instead was digging around as a security measure. He was deep into a system held in a building two blocks down: The First Speaker’s Mansion.

He paused for a moment, leaving the porn laden personal files of the head agent in charge of protecting the First Speaker. He grabbed a slice of hot pizza from a box off to the side, and went back to work. Using a word processor, he left little notes for his bi-weekly brief. Most of Darren’s time was spent looking at files with interesting names. It was an odd fact that instead of using boring names, most used names that were very specific to the given operation.

There was a ding, then a pop up, and he turned back to the computer. It was a small log on box. Broad Sword Logged In.[b]

Broad Sword was the call sign for the Chief Security Advisor to the First Speaker, equivalent to the United State’s National Security Advisor. Darren smiled, and began running a simple track program that would save the password and log in name used, to see if they were at least using the encryption program. If they were, he wouldn’t be able to use the same name and password at a later date.

“While I’m here, I might as well,” Darren thought out loud, and began his digging again. He finished off his piece of pizza, and began to search through files. There was little of interest, just the usual saved security briefings that informed of solution to past problems, but none actually highlighting any problems at all. The CSA was smart.

However, like all good hackers, little could be hidden from Darren. He continued to dig when he noticed an off name for a file in the midst of security information. Breaches.

He clicked on the file, and seconds later, he found in front of him all the information regarding an incident that the ICIA, INSA, and certain portions of the Imitoran Military were trying all to hard to put behind them: the Tanaaran coup.

Darren had always had mixed feelings about the coup. He opened the first file, labeled [b]SABER OPS, and began to read. The information he saw caused him to drop his slice of pizza. He clicked on another file, COUP BACKING, and still more information that he never expected. He dug more, reading more files, and snapped a flash drive out of his desk. He plugged it into the computer, and selected a downloading program, writing the contents of hard drive to his flash drive.

He yanked off the head phones for the iPod, and tossed it on his desk. He took the flash, connected it to his key chain, and began to stand when the phone on his desk rang.

He picked up the receiver, answering cautiously. “Hello?”

“Mr. Winston, this is David DeMonthams at the house.”

“Uh, yes Mr. DeMonthams?”

“I just wanted to thank you for installing that incredible program on my computer, allowing me to track and watch when hackers are inside the files. I just saw you testing the system.”

“Uh, yes sir, pretty good one.”

“Now, you seemed to be in for quite a while. Find anything you like? Treadstone perhaps?”

“No sir, nothing at all, just testing the systems.”

“I see. So you weren’t inside the breaches file.”

“No sir.”

“And you didn’t download any information form the breaches file when you didn’t go there.”

Darren was silent.

“This is a very dangerous game to play Mr. Winston. I would suggest that you meet me outside in say, thirty minutes with a copy of an empty flash drive. I mean, it would have to be empty as you didn’t go into the breaches file and save anything from the file.”

“People died, sir. I think this info should get out.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” The phone clicked dead.

Darren stood from his desk, pushing the chair back violently, and tore into a drawer. Within seconds, he removed his duty issued Glock 20, checked the only magazine he had for the weapon, and holstered it. He ran out of the room, and skipped the elevator, taking the stairs down to the fifteenth floor. A quick swipe of an access card, and he ran to the end of a long hallway marked “Armory”, and came to the check out desk. He began pounding on the service bell, waiting for someone to address him.

“Yeah,” a gruff voice called out. “Whatdya need?”

Darren dropped his ID card on the table. “I’m gonna need two or three mags for a Glock 20.”

“Well, how many. Two or three.”

“For fuck’s sake, does it matter? I’m in a fucking hurry here!”

The armory worker was stoic. He had the look that said ‘I have time to kill, so please, play by my rules.’

“Fine. Two with a mag holster.” He filled out a few pieces of paper work, and signed out the equipment. Minutes later, he was out on the road in his private car, speeding towards a friend’s house.

He banged on the doorbell, ringing it furiously, trying to get some help. The neighbor answered the door groggily, wiping sleep out of his eyes. The EMT had worked the night shift, and was trying to catch up on some sleep. “Yeah man, what?”

“You still have your pilot’s license?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll give you fifteen hundred plus fuel if you fly me to Tanaara right now.”
__

Two Hours Later, Free Air Space

The Cessna was reaching the outer limits of its flight length, but would be free to land soon. “Tanaara tower control, this is Nelson Carl Five Five Niner, private. Cessna 180, extended range. Looking for some space to land, where do you recommend?”

“Tanaara tower control, this is Nelson Carl Five Five Niner, private. Cessna 180, extended range. Looking for some space to land, where do you recommend?”

It was very late in the Air National Guard traffic controllers shift and she was more than half asleep. While inner regional and in country flights were twenty four hours operations, overseas traffic shut down at midnight. She checked her radar, definitely comiing up from the south, and the call sign was Imitoran. 'A Cessna though? Her thoughts shifted into wake mode. "He'll be at the end of even his extended range. I'd better direct him towards Lightly International" She muttered to herself.

He'd be able to refuel there if he needed to go further in country. Lightly's service sector was well known for their 'can do' attitude and reasonable prices.

*Nelson Carl Five Five Niner, you are inbound almost directly for Lightly International. Change heading by three degrees, and at your current rate you can contact their tower in about fifteen minutes. Tower freq is 245.6. They have twenty four hour private sector service, if you need to refuel to reach your destination." The reservist advised the cessnas pilot. She'd keep an eye on him for safetys sake, untill she overheard him and Lightly International make contact.

'Must be wanting to get an early start at the slopes, or the races.' She thought to herself. Tanaara was known for it's many fine ski resorts and it's even more impressive number of tripple black diamond slopes. And Imitora was not 'but they have some of the finest beaches and cars almost as hot as ours.' she refused to admit that while Tanaaran's love for fine cars was great, it was truly out done by the Imitoran national obsession.

If she had known the trouble she was letting in to Tanaaran airspace, she would have authorized the ever ready Razorr interceptor fighters down to put a missile into it. But then the truth would never have gotten out and she would never go on to make a general some day - in the Reserves yes, but there have never been a plethora of generals in Tanaara.

Nelson Carl Five Five Niner, you are inbound almost directly for Lightly International. Change heading by three degrees, and at your current rate you can contact their tower in about fifteen minutes. Tower freq is 245.6. They have twenty four hour private sector service, if you need to refuel to reach your destination.

"Roger that Tanaara tower, much appriciated. Changing frequency now, out."

The pilot switched back. "So," he said, not taking his eyes of the sky infront of him, "where are we going?"

"We," Darren replied, "aren't going anywhere. Its a drop. Just leave me at Lightly, I'll make my way in on my own."

"A drop? Listen man, I know you work for the ICIA, but don't you have like, Q types and James Bond wannabes to take care of this?"

"Yeah, in theory. But this isn't an operation. Just let me off, and we'll all be gravy."

"Whatever man," the pilot responded, instead watching the sky infront of him.

__

Northampton, Imitora

"So let me get this strait. He has the Breach files?" The voice belonged to INSA Director Stevens Cerna. The Hispanic man had spent the majority of his life as a non official cover operative for the ICIA before moving to the INSA, where his skills put him behind enemy lines more often than once. He distinguished himself enough to earn a new spot, a powerful spot, and wasn't going to let go of it anytime soon.

"Yes," DeMonthams replied. "All of the files. Proof of our involvement with the coup, funding for subversive operations, and the Cat and Edge lines, everything."

"Fuck. I thought you locked those files away?"

"I did. My computer was secure. This little rat, Winston or something like that, must have been damned good. I couldn't even hack my own computer, and this guy could. He knew what he was doing."

"Well, what do we do?"

DeMonthams sighed. "Hell if I know. Spent so much time covering up these operations that I never really thought they would get out. I don't exactly want to tell the Tanaarans that we have a rogue agent running around with Top Level Eyes Only Material, which may involve the past coup in their nation." He sighed audibly, and took a long pull from a mug of coffee on his desk. "You think they wouldn't want to see what we know?"

"Thats true. What were those two units you mentioned, Edge and Cat?" Cerna rubbed his temples, he hadn't heard of them.

"Well, Cat is an operations unit that did assasinations. Covert Assasination Teams. Some of the bess assasins in the world, a handful or so were from other nations that we trained. They were damned good too. Make people just disapear, for good. We had a few of them working with the insurgents in the Tanaaran coup, they had some high level targets, including the Queen. When the coup failed, we yanked them out, and sent a few of them after the Marines that went into Tanaara. Didn't get any of the shooters, but got some friends and family, made it look like terror attacks."

"So, you can just write it off as a few rouge agents."

"I don't need to. We killed them all. Figured they knew to much, and we had to eliminate them when we set them against Imitoran citizens."

"Well," Stevens started, "what about Edge?"

"Edge? Edge is far more complicated." DeMonthams paused. "Not to complicated. I'm going to ring the First Speaker. We need to have a meeting, I'll explain it all then."
__

Lightly International, Tanaara

The Cessna had landed without affair, and Darren used a private credit card to pay for a refuel on the small plane.

"Thanks bro, I appriciate this."

"Yea, no prob. So what ya gonna do now? Or is that part of your uber secret ICIA black operations training mission?"

"Ha, no. I'm just gonna take some time off, I needed it. If I stayed home, I would have snapped and taken out half the office. Sorry I seemed rushed, I was just, wired up."

"I feel ya there man. Take care, call me if ya need a flight back."

"Will do," Darren smiled, sadly. He watched from the private air sector terminal as the small prop plane turned and took off, heading back home. He turned to face a desk worker, and smiled.

"I need to check in back home, let some friends know I'm ok, and look at some news updates. You have an all access internet connection around here? And some coffee?"

"I need to check in back home, let some friends know I'm ok, and look at some news updates. You have an all access internet connection around here? And some coffee?"

"Yes sir, we have a Lady Midnight's just down the concourse there" The college student behind the cunter waved the Imitoran visitor towards the local outlet of the nations favorite gourmet coffee cafe. They served a mean danish as well.

Elsewhere...

A small ...call it a sub routine, preprogramed to activate once certain paramaters had been met... and a shadow became somewhat more than just a patch of grey...and what was said was recorded for review later.

The individual that would review what was recorded was away for the time being and the review might well come some what later rather than immediately, but not that much time would elapse. Though there would be those in Imitora that might got to the brink to stop that review and delivery of the information - if they even knew that such existed...

Tanaara paid well for those services.

Darren thanked the young lady, and moved back to the cafe, ordering a straight black coffee and a cream cheese danish, and selecting a computer. With a few quick key strokes, he was into the system, and then into his work email.

He pushed through the usual emails of casual Friday, the monthly Agency picnic, and the scores from the past weeks Fantasy Football tournament. Satisfied that few held any sort of comment on him directly, he began to work through the local news sites. There was no news of a rouge agent, nor of a leak in the ICIA. Further satisfied, he went on to the more international sites, and found nothing.

He checked over his shoulder after being delivered the coffee and danish, and went back to the ICIA's main website. Using a small glitch that most of the hacker's knew, he made his way in over the lines to the main network. From the remote terminal, he would be able to access most of the network with out risking a track. This would end up being the hardest part, as it required him to trace any sort of activity at all in the system. He began to track through, looking for any sort of interagency private memo. He searched over two hundred computers, looking at division heads, and found again nothing.

Winston couldn't push the idea out of his head. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn't find anything. He logged out of the system, and logged into a set of message boards, posting a few posts, killing time.

He had been at the computer for just over an hour and a half when he decided to check his private mail, and sign off. The first few messages were nothing new. Enlarge your penis, look at cheap Asian sluts, send us your bank info so that we can deposit fifty million into your account to avoid war, you've won an all expenses paid trip, and further. He deleted the entire box, and then a new message popped up.

He clicked on it, and felt his heart skip a beat.

"WE Cannn finddd dyu DAVE"

The message, seemingly typed by someone who was drunk, rang close to Darren. It was designed to look poorly done, to seem like some random drunk email threat. Attached, however, was a video link. He placed on a set of provided head phones, and clicked on the link.

The feminine voice came in clear over the head set, reporting on a plane crash. "Today, about ten minutes ago, the main control tower at Northampton International reported loosing a radar contact fifteen miles off the coast. Imitoran Coast Guard SAR helicopters were dispatched, and found the burning wreckage of a recent model Cessna, and the dead pilot's body floating not to far from the crash."

The cammera zoomed in on the tail section of the aircraft, and even in the dark of night, it was clear. NC559.

"The pilot," the voice came back, "was identified as Dave Crutimyer, from Northampton. Dave was an EMT with one of the Northampton district fire departments, and was descirbed as an expierienced pilot. The crash is being determined as aircraft error."

Darren yanked off the head phones, closing the video and logging off quickly. He stood, dropping some money on the counter, enough to cover the cost of the meal and a decent tip. He made his way back to the front desk, careful to keep the Glock and extra magazines hidden well.

"One last question. What is the quickest way to get to the Montgard?"

High overhead, in a cis lunar orbit, unsleeping electronic eyes recorded the destruction of a small private plane as it crosed into Imitoran airspace. What made it of note to those who monitored those eyes was that the downed plane had come from Tanaaran airspace - it would be shortly correlated that the plane had come from Imitora. And the why of a Imitoran registered civilian aircraft being deliberately destroyed would have several supply clerks asking that question of their various suppliers...and very discretely high level questions being asked between nations as well. Reporting it publicly as aircraft failure was not the smartest thing the Imitorans could have done, but then again some governments...

"One last question. What is the quickest way to get to the Montgard?"

"There's a commuter jet to Montgard leaving in about twenty minutes. They usually have seats open at this time of night." The clerk smiled at the man, but wondered at the glimpse of sadness she caught in his eyes. "Take the slide walk to concourse A, it's Blue Skys Airways. They're real reasonable on their rates." She offered helpfully.

There's a commuter jet to Montgard leaving in about twenty minutes. They usually have seats open at this time of night. Take the slide walk to concourse A, it's Blue Skys Airways. They're real reasonable on their rates.

"Thanks," Darren smiled, and turned to head towards the Blue Skys terminal. Halfway down the concourse, he stopped at an ATM, and ran his credit card as a debit card. He took all the money he could out from the limit, and pocketed it. He did the same with his debit cards, giving him just over two thousand in cash. Darren slipped into the restroom, and tore the cards up, flushing each one down a seperate toilet. The ATM would be the last record of his movement.
__

Northampton, Imitora

DeMonthams offered a handshake to the First Speaker and her Chief of Staff as they left the room, and collapsed back into his desk chair. "She didn't want to do anything?"

Cerna shook his head. "You don't just ask some foriegn government to keep an eye open, you demand something. You can't just call up Montgard and say 'Hey, we have a spy on the loose. If you catch him, could you just pretend he's a regular citizen and send him back our way'. For God's sake, that sounds like a cheesy spy movie cover up."

"Maybe I should have explained Edge to her. That and the Breaches Operation."

"I understand Breach, I was working that angle for a while too. But I still think you need to tell me what the hell Edge is."

DeMonthams sighed. Edge was a program centered directly in the ICIA. It wasn't something you just went bragging about, letting others know about some of the best warriors on the face of the planet. "Fine, but not here. We'll have a meeting later at my house. Be there around one."

Stevens checked his watch. It was eleven thirty at night now, it would give him some time to change, and let a staffer know where he was going. Cerna wouldn't put it past DeMonthams to try something shaddy.
__

Darren smiled warmly at the gate attendant as he paid for his flight, taking a window seat towards the back of the plane. He thanked a flight attendent but declined a drink, and instead reclined the commuter's seat, and closed his eyes. He had been up since five am Imitoran local time, and it was going on twelve Imitoran local time. The plane hadn't even left the gate when sleep grabbed him.
__

The small office in the not so small house in the Crest View section of Imitora was dark, lit only by a single corner lamp. The lamp struggled to even stay on with the amount of magnetic interference pulsing through the office. Anything running an a raido wave would instantly be blocked out, and a current running through the windows prevented and laser readers from measuring vibrations off the window. The office was well locked down.

When Cerna finally arrived, he was ushered into the office, and took the only empty chair in the officer. DeMonthams was already present and ready, holding two identical manilla folders, and nursing a scotch. The other man in the room was Clark Bader, the Director of Covert Operations, ICIA.

"Stevens, this is Clark Bader, does my covert work. Clark, this is Stevens Cerna, Director of the INSA." After intorductions had been exchanged, DeMonthams got to work. He handed each man the file folder, and began to explain.

"The Edge program was started back in the early forties, after the founding of the ICIA, following the Imitoran involvment in the Second World War. Unlike the US agency, the ICIA was founded to carry out black operations that would directly bennefit the Imitoran people and government. Our first program was the Edge program.

"Robert Fortier Jr. was an Imitoran Marine, and one hell of one at that. Multiple decorations, and the like. Many said he was born to soldier. And he was. He comes from a rather long line of males who were litterally born with the ability to out soldier normal people. Almost like a genetic program. They run faster, jump higher, all that stuff. They also have one other nice trait. Simulated imortality. Yes, we'd assume they would die of old age, but old for them is much older than anyone else. Just look at his file photo."

Cerna did so, and looked down at the image. "He couldn't have been older than fifty or sixty?"

Bader cut in. "He was born in 1889. He died two days ago."

"Wait," Cerna cut in, in disbelief. "That would make him, what, one eighteen, one nineteen?"

"One nineteen," DeMonthams replied. "Their body basically stops aging at about fifty or sixty, depends on the person. We've found some of these people who have died at well over two hundred, and they look like they are twenty. We aren't sure exactly what causes this, but we are working on it. We want to issolate the gennes that repsond to their military skills, but we haven't been able to so far.

"We've had three operatives in the program, well, so far only two who have known it. Fortier Jr., and his son Robert Fortier III."

"The one who died in Houston?"

"Yeah, that bastard was one hard little fuck to kill. He just didn't want to die. We sent Cat teams after him, sent him on suicide runs, you name. I finally had to call in a huge favor to the Vatican's intelligence agency to have him taken out in Houston," Bader jumped in. "He was one of our best agents, too. Could count on him to kill anyone or accomplish anything. To bad he went rouge."

"Why did they go rogue?" Cerna asked.

"They found out we were using them. Didn't like it, so they went rogue. The younger Fortier was easier to take out, we still had sort of a leash on him. We had him convinced we were easing off on him. He was 61 at time of death. His father, however, fuck that was hard. Man could move in and out of a crowd like nothing, hell, he wrote the book on ICIA black ops. Best black ops agent we had."

Bader nodded. "What can ya do though. Someone wants to go public with the information they had. Assasinations, military ops, hell, the older Fortier even had info on our involvement in the Tanaaran attempted coup."

Cerna nodded. "Indeed."

DeMonthams spoke up. "Thats why I'm going to contact the Tanaaran government privately tommorow. After Rydell and Nevins leave for Southern Imitora. Explain our situation and tell them we are sending two Operators from The Detachment. They'll asist with the detainment or taking out this Winston kid before he can release any information. Of course, we'll tell him he's a rouge agent, trying to take out someone high up. Not the Queen, maybe her son or something."

Cerna nodded. "Do you have Operators already selected."

"Yes," DeMonthams replied quickly, with a hard, dark smile. "Look at the folder, and turn to page twenty five."

I don't exactly want to tell the Tanaarans that we have a rogue agent running around with Top Level Eyes Only Material....Tanaaran coup, they had some high level targets, including the Queen. When the coup failed...I'm going to ring the First Speaker. We need to have a meeting, I'll explain it all then."

As was mentioned particular conditions met...

The sub routine had transfered to a different shadow one near the current location of the previous speaker...Locked down the small office may have been... but there were still shadows...

The shadow that wasn't just a shadow listened to what the three Imitorans said, unfortunately it only had ears, not an active presence that would have been able to read what the three had in their dossiers..

The record had no human intellegence behind it, otherwise it would have been placing bets on how long the three Imitorans had left to live....

Tanaaran airspace

The Blue Skys puddle hopper jet winged northward at an effecient seven hundred miles per hour, they would land four hours later at Transfer Point, the facility that served not only as the airport for Montgard but was also the nation's star port.

Transfer Point sprawled over a thirty six mile square patch of well manicured land, dotted here and there with copses of trees and seemingly ornamental lakes. The runways, taxi ways and landing pads were greenswarded of course, but they were hidden by those bodies of water - which had definite purposes as did the trees, gardens and not just as sound and shock wave baffles.

The jet touched down lightly and taxied to the proper jetway which extened out to meet the plane as it nosed into the designated concourse.

"Thank you for flying Blue Skys. Please let me remind all non citizens to have their passports available." The steward sounded more than a little surprized to find himself saying that. Passports were never checked, but the orders had come from the government, relayed by ATC and the Blue Sky's management just over half an hour ago.

The three person cabin crew sent their team leader, the steward up to check with the flight crew, wondering if there was some news they had not been made aware of. The last time passports had been checkied was during the tectonic shifts in neighboring Tarlachia.

"Have we gone on an active war footing?"

"Not that I know of and if we had I've recieved notification by now." The captain replied to the sligthly tense querry. He was active reserve and while not front line would have been notified.

"What have we go on the load?" The older copilot, he wasn't as concerned, he was in his seventies and fully inactive reserve.

"An elf from Tarlachia, an Imitoran, a couple from GeeSss, and three Americans. The last three are here for the sales at Silver Mile." The steward mentioned Tanaara's premier yearling sales event. It had been all the three Yanks had talked about, that and how easy it was to get into Tanaara. Little did they know...

"I bet thats it. A lot are going to be arriving in the next few days, and maybe the brass wants them to feel safe. They're so paranoid these days that I bet they think that security isn't serious if they don't wait in a line for hours to be sneered at." The pilot chuckled.

The copilot grinned and nodded. "The wife and I went to the U.S. last year, what a boonedoggle, five hours in at the airport, and they still have home grown tangos wandering around loose."

The three men all shook their heads and returned to the business of making sure the plane got where it was supposed to go, and the patrons arrived happy...

Thank you for flying Blue Skys. Please let me remind all non citizens to have their passports available.

Darren's eyes snapped open. The pressure change had woken him up, but he annoucement has snapped him back to reality. He hadn't thought to much into the flight, and didn't have a passport. He also realized that without the passport, and no baggage, he would set off alarms with just about any security gaurd that was beyond a third grade competence.

Waiting till a flight attendant passed, he quickly and quietly removed the IWB holster and two extra magazine holsters, and as he exited the plane, slipped them under a blanket, dropping the weapon and magazines on a random seat. There had been others on the flight, few but others, and therefore he wouldn't be IDd as the owner of the weapon right away.

Free of the weapon, Darren felt naked, that he was more at risk. However, he would have to deal. The last thing he wanted was to get picked in the airport, armed, and get a report saying he was a rogue agent.

Darren made his way to the front of the plane, and then paused nest to the flight attendant. He listened carefully to the convorsation, and started to wonder. Did they already have him pegged? Did the ICIA already call in. No, it couldn't have been, he knew protocols. Even with the information he had, it would take the higher ups at least a day to get everything together, to get an operation in order.

He hoped that the flight crew didn't have a name or image, and decided to risk it. Darren approached the flight attendent cautiously, and spoke up quietly.

"I have a problem. I wasn't thinking and managed to leave my passport back home, most of the time we don't need one. What would you recomend? I could just head to the consolate, and register there."

"I have a problem. I wasn't thinking and managed to leave my passport back home, most of the time we don't need one. What would you recomend? I could just head to the consolate, and register there."


She smiled at him and replied reasureingly "Oh it's just cause of all the 'Mericans due in for the Silver Mile sales. Got to make the Yanks feel at home, ya'know. Just show them some sort of picture ID and everything should be copa. And, oh..." She looked him over again, cocking her head inquisitively. "Did you leave your pistol at your seat? Can't have that now!"

Montgard, Tanaara

Darren laughed nervously. "My bad, must have caught on the seat or something."

He returned back to the seat he had dropped the weapon on, reattached the IWB holster and two magazine holders, and exited the plane. At least the weapons wouldn't show off anything out of the ordinary. At the gate, he used a drivers liscense and an Imitoran Citizen ID badge to get through customs.

Once out of the airport, he flagged down a cab, and paid in cash to get to a half way decent, mid priced hotel. Once in the hotel, he checked in under his normal name, he had left most of his fake ID equipment back in Imitora. It was something he could handle tommorow with a simple hack. Paying again in cash, he took his key card, and found his room.

He moved quickly, making sure the blinds were closed tight and the door tripple locked. A desk chair, the standard in most hotel rooms, was jammed up under the handle for that last measure of secuirty. Of course, he really wouldn't put it past the ICIA to simply call in an airstrike on the hotel, claim terrorism connections, and pay the Tanaaran government reperations. He sighed, audibly, and wished he at least had a lap top with him. He was to tired to continue that train of thought, though, and after slipping the Glock under his pillow and leaving the two magazines close by, he collapsed onto the pillow, and passed out.
__

Bogotá, South Imitora

Warm, sticky, humid air permiated the lungs of the two Imitoran soldiers sucking down water at the small out door café. Unlike the Colombian counterpart nestled high in the mountains, the capital of South Imitora was low, on the water, and constantly humid. Bogotá, Colombia rarely saw temperatures north of seventy five. Bogotá, South Imitora, rarely saw temperatures below ninety.

The two soldiers didn't look like soldiers. Their hair cuts were long and shaggy, and neither had shaved recently. Only one, Master Sargeant Ryan Fortier, had on cammoflauge, a pair of '95 pattern DPM British pants. The other, Staff Sargeant Selvin Salazzo, was wearing jeans. Salazzo was wearing a polo shirt damp with sweat, Fortier a short sleaved white cotton button down wore open over a black Led Zepplin t-shirt. Anyone who even knew the two were soldiers would be convinced they were off duty. However, they were far from off duty.

"So," Fortier spoke up, waving the waiter over for another glass of water, "what do we do once we are off leave? We have to stay in this shit hole, I say we go free climb up north."

Salazzo nodded. "Seriously, why the hell did we get picked for this shit. Is the ISS so fucking inept they can't even protect their own principle? I swear to god, don't we have some doors to kick in or something?"

Fortier chuckled, taking a long pull on the tall glass of ice cold water. The temperature was only one oh five, but the humidity was deadly. Sweat dripped from his forehead, and he continually had to wipe clean his Oaklys. "Beats me man. I don't see why we just don't take the fucker now, this whole justice and fair trial shit is really making life hard."

"Indeed."

The two seemed casual enough, but very close look would reveal each was armed. Fortier, still waiting for his custom ordered IMI 1911, held a Springfield Operator Loaded on his hip, and Salazzo a Sig Sauer P220.

"So, given any thought to my Uncle's offer?"

Ryan shook his head. "I dunno bro. Not much a fan of the whole merc thing. The paycheck looks nice, six figures a year, but still. I'll get back to him on it."

"Alright man, its out there."

Fortier nodded. From behind the Emerald colored lenses, Fortier's eyes snapped up, catching a target. "Shit, here we go," he said, pushing his chair away from the table and dropping a ten credit bill.

The target was a South Imitoran local, a one Juan Fredriecho Himenez. He wasn't a normally major player, just some local who was miffed that his home had gone from an autonomous region to part of the Imitoran state. He had lost most of his sugar plantation to a buyout from some of the larger Imitoran firms, and with the First and Second Speaker both on a humanitarian mission to South Imitora, he had a legitimate target. Numerous threats had been made, and one traced back to him rang serious. The sniper in a former life could cause some serious damage, and an operation had been sanctioned against him.

The two shooters moved quickly forward, their arms trailing back towards their side arms. The objective was to detain Juan, but should it fail, they were authorized to take him down. Ryan was about to speak when the cell phone in his pocket chirped. Juan turned to see the two men, and froze, but Ryan was already on top of it. His hand pushed past the Springfield 1911, and into his pocket. He pulled out the cell phone, snapped it open, and answered.

"'Yello?"

"Hows the weather," the familar voice called in.

"Uh its decent, we were just gonna go ask the weather man if it would hold up. They had a cool breeze here in Bogatá, so we decided to come down for a weekend. Nice little café gave us the heads up."

"Well, I hate to say it, but it looks like we have a storm rolling in. Could be kinda nasty."

"Gotcha, we'll head back. Leave the sailing till next week." Ryan snapped the phone shut, and dropped it into his pocket. He turned from Juan, and started walking back towards the café. With an unphased look, Selvin turned to follow.

"Whats up?" he asked, voice low.

"Up top call off. ISS is on it, they got the take down. We got some bigger fish to fry."

"Alright," Selvin said with a smile, keeping his voice low. Behind them, two large, black BMW X5 SAVs swung around the corner, coming straight at Juan. Ryan and Selvin didn't look back.
__

Montgard, Tanaara

Darren awoke from his long sleep, the time on the desk clock reading one in the afternoon. His sleep had not been peaceful, nor had it been rough. It was the long, dreamless sleep usually acompaning someone who passed out. He shook himself awake. He was still alive, thank the gods.

Darren showered quickly, not meaning to groom, but just to wake up. He dressed in the same clothes from the day before, he'd need to buy a pair or two to change into later. But his first need was to contact some help, then get rid of his record at the hotel. He was still checked in for a week, and had paid in advanced in cash. His chances of returning, however, were slim.

Making his way down to the front desk, he decided he needed somewhere outside the hotel to get his access. He approached the front desk, and waited till his turn came up.

"Yeah, uh, is there like, a decent internet cafe around here? Some place quiet?"

"Yeah, uh, is there like, a decent internet cafe around here? Some place quiet?"

"Why just across the square, the Cafe Junniot has net access, but we also have it in our corporate center, and in each room. Did you wish the loan of a lap top to use in your room?" The desk clerk was middle aged, plump and soliticious of all the hotels patrons.

Before Darren could answer her a couple entered the hotel lobby and smoothly made their way over to Darren and the desk.

"Hey Darren. Long time no see!" The female part of the couple bounced up to the Imitoran and greeted him in a friendly fashion. She made sure that her Tanaaran accent was discernable. She was not carrying any sort of weapon, nor was her partner.

It had not taken Tanaaran Intellegence long to figure out who had gotten off of the now destroyed cessna, or long to track him to the hotel he'd taken rooms at. And because of his very survival, he'd become a person of interest, one to be treated politely, taken to safety and asked gentle questions. The Imitorans had bothched it by not contacting the Tanaarans immediately with loud accusations andf 'proof' of Darren's dangerousness, or criminal intent. No, the Imitorans were up to something and the Tanaarans wanted to know what.

Ft. Griffith Special Warfare Center, Clarton, Imitora

Fortier and Salazzo were sitting calmly, looking over the main breifing for the new op.

"So, what ya gonna do with the money," Selvin asked, not looking up from the brief.

"Beats me man, I just found it last night. Went to take some cash outa my account, had an extra one point five million. Asked about it, some sorta built up pennsions from relatives or something. Just gonna have the Army drop it into some mutuals."

"Good idea. You'd probably blow it on girls and cars."

"You mean guns and cars?"

"Yeah, those too."

The two chuckled as they looked over the plan. It called for an open infiltration into Tanaara, track down Darren, and take him out. It was a standard wax job, in Fortier's opinion.

Neither stood or saluted as the unit's CO entered the room. The 1st Special Forces Group, Special Operations Applications Detachment, also known as The Detachment, was not a group to follow common proticol. There was little in the way of standard fanfare. "Whats up, top?" Selvin started, closing his file.

"We got a running agent. Some kid named Darren Winston. He was a hacker and computer specialist in the COIN sector of the ICIA, decided he could find better pay as a blue badge and up and left. No problem there, save he took some info with him. Top level type of stuff, that the CSA and First Speaker are the only ones allowed to see."

"Why'd he run?" Fortier chimed in.

"No clue. We didn't even have him pegged till he was already out and airborne. Had three private flights, two to Tanaara, one to Tarlachia. We already dispatched a team to Tarlachia, and we are gonna send you two to Tanaara."

"Why not a full eight man team?" Salazzo asked.

"You two just completed marksman training. Fortier, you had damn good scores, and they were suprised when you didn't turn in your request transfer to a Detachment sniper."

"Yeah, well, kicking in doors is more fun," Ryan chuckled. "So you want us to go in and do the long range thing?"

"Yeap. Salazzo, you'll be taking spotter, Fortier, we'll get you a good rifle and glass. We'll be contacting the Tanaaran government ahead of time, let them know your comming. They might hook you up with a team, might not. Fortier, your COIN scores were good, and Salazzo, your's were out fucking standing. You can get this punk."

Fortier nodded. "Equipment?"

"Keep it low key. Side arms and the issued long gun. We don't want you boys running around downtown Montgard in tac gear kicking in shit. You can do that."

Fortier and Salazzo nodded.

"Alright, I'll leave you two to figure out the plan. Fortier, we'll have a rifle ready for ya here shortly, just hit the armory. You boys good to rock."

"Yes sir," Fortier responded.

"Good thing kids. Have a good 'un."

The CO left the two alone with the briefs and white board to plan out the operation.
__

Montgard, Tanaara

Why just across the square, the Cafe Junniot has net access, but we also have it in our corporate center, and in each room. Did you wish the loan of a lap top to use in your room?

Darren was about to say no thanks, that he'd just use the shop across the street, when someone called out his name.

Hey Darren. Long time no see!

Darren turned to see the couple walking up to him, and he visably tensed. He was tempted to go for the Glock, but he hadn't used it since training. He was a computer geek, not a NOC or Fieldy. By the time he even contimplated going for the well concealed weapon, they were too close. At this range, they could easily use some form of hand to hand to take him out. Instead, he simply responded.

He was positive these two were sent from a Tanaaran intel group, on behest of the ICIA. Leave it to the ICIA to finally decide not to nuke a single agent on him. He allowed himself to relax visably before speaking.

"Uh hey, you." His voice didn't hide his confusion at all, it instead relayed it even more vocally. "Hows it going?"

"Hows it going?"

"Much better now. Care to have brunch with us, Darren? You look like you could use some one to talk to." The woman kept her tone light and her expression open. All her body language was calm and unhurried.

"We can go any where you'd like." She gently maneuvered the Imitoran over to where her partner stood. She spoke softly, and triggered a key on the cellphone she wore at her waist, creating an additional bubble of pink noise about the trio. "Just to let you know Imitora has not said word one about you. They're claiming that Nelson Carl Five Five Niner went down due to aircraft malfunction. We know that that is not true, so we'd just like to know why they did it and why you came to Tanaara. Nothing more."

Darren nodded.

Much better now. Care to have brunch with us, Darren? You look like you could use some one to talk to. We can go any where you'd like. Just to let you know Imitora has not said word one about you. They're claiming that Nelson Carl Five Five Niner went down due to aircraft malfunction. We know that that is not true, so we'd just like to know why they did it and why you came to Tanaara. Nothing more.

"Yeah, I can talk," he said, cautiously. He still wasn't to trustworthy of these people, especially with the mention of Imitora. He would need to go somewhere populated, where they couldn't make a move. He doubt'ed the Tanaarans would pull an ICIA move and execute him out in public.

"I was just thinking about heading across the street, need to check my email and such. I think we can talk there just fine."

"I was just thinking about heading across the street, need to check my email and such. I think we can talk there just fine."

"I'm Nancy and this is Tony." The Tanaaran introduced herself and her partner. She was a little shorter than average, and slightly chubby but she carried herself with grace and poise. Her blonde hair tumbled in waves to her shoulders and as they left the hotel the midday breezed caught a wayward lock or two. Nancy sighed in exasperation and clawed it out of her grey eyes as her partner of long standing chuckled.

"Going to have to get stronger mousse." He was just over six foot and rather slender. His hair was almost to his shoulders, a dark brown with some reddish highlights where the sun caught it. Like her he was dressed casually, in charcoal hued docker style trousers and a polo shirt in deep green.

Nancy was in a palest peach silk tee and a coordinated print skirt that flowed around her calves. "Naw, I'll just steal yours."

It took only a couple of minutes to cross the square and reach the internet cafe the desk clerk had recommended. Cafe Junniot was busy it was still lunch time for many, but the section that were the computers were located was mostly empty. The hostess led them back and offered them their choice of seats.

Once they were seated and menus handed round she left to bring them water and shortly a waiter arrived to take their orders.

Montgard, Tanaara

Darren made his order simple, just a cup off coffee and a tuna sandwhich. He had hardly eaten in the past day or so, and definately needed to have some food in his system if he was going to keep on moving. He waited till the others ordered, shifted slightly in his seat, and made the first move.

"So," he started, nerviously, "what do you want to know about Dave? I mean, I know he crashed." There was a hint of sadness in his voice. All he wanted to do was contact someone in a friendly government for some asylum till he could get this entire mess sorted out. But with Dave going down, well, it was no guess that soldiers were most likely already on the way. As of recent, he had noticed that the ICIA had begun to enjoy using the Army instead of the Marines, some random black unit. One that most likely went under the guise of a logistics and supply or signals unit or such.

He didn't let Tony or Nancy ask the obvious follow up question. "Most likely an EMP weapon. The ICIA wouldn't use the Navy, they've never had a close relationship, compition between the ICIA and the Office of Naval Intelligence. ONI is damned good, but much better with military info, ICIA usually takes on more of the black stuff."
__

Ft. Griffith Special Warfare Center, Clarton, Imitora

DeMonthams looked at the two soldiers on the range. Fortier was behind a CheyTac Intervention .408, and Salazzo was working the spotter scope. So far, they had been hitting targets dead on out at 900-1000 yards. The weapon was far more acurate than that, and could take out targets pushing the 2000 yard mark. However, this was estimated to be the max engagement distance dor the target, and it was no use wasting time shooting out that far if the shot would be closer.

"These two are good."

"Yeah," the CO commented, watching the shooters. "Fortier is a beast behind the trigger. He's one hell of a shooter. I'm still trying to convince him to go into the full scale sniper program, but he loves kicking in doors. How are Mac and Brown doing in Tarlachia?"

"Good. We just got a negative report, so Fortier and Salazzo here are gonna be the go team. I'll be contacting the Tanaaran government here shortly. Tell them they got ten hours till roll call."

"Yessir, Mr. DeMonthams. They'll be ready."

"Good," DeMonthams nodded. "You sure these two can kill a noncom?"

The CO chuckled. "Sir, I'll tell you what. If that noncom is a traitor, shit, Fortier will probably try and cut that fucker's throat in person. These two are definately our shooters for this situation."

"Excellent then." DeMonthams stroked his chin, flinching slightly as the big bore rifle barked again, spitting .408 death towards another downrange watermellon, blowing the fruit apart. "You better watch yourself. If Fortier out there is as good as you say, I might just try to steal him away."

The CO had no idea that DeMonthams already knew damned well about Fortier.
__

TO: Her Royal Highness, Queen Mercedez Merideath Hexx
FROM: Chief Security Advisor David DeMonthams, Director of Intelligence, ICIA
RE: Secuirty Breach

Your Royal Highness,

I wish that I could be contacting you with far better news, but I fear that this situation calls for me to be blunt. Yesterday, an agent of the Imitoran Central Intelligence Agency went rouge with some information that could possibly put the life of you or someone close to you in much danger. This rouge agent, one Daren Winston, was one of our hackers and computer specialists, trained mainly to find electronic information. However, for reasons beyond our comprehension, he has decided to take another course of action.

I regret not contacting you sooner, however, we did not want to raise alarms to early, and alert this agent to our search. We were of the feeling that he may have fled to Tarlachia or Iansisle instead, but with negative reports comming from teams dispatched to either nation, we have confirmed him operating in Tanaara.

I write to ask your permission to dispatch a two man special operations team to detain this rogue agent, and prevent him from carrying out any form of terrorist attack against your nation. With his knowledge of computers, and training we provided, he is well likely to be able to carry out an attack in many forms.

I hope this is acceptable, and look forward to your response. I know that the First Speaker would have contacted you on her own, but unfortunately, she is in Southern Imitora on a humanitarian mission.

With Regards and Respect,

David DeMonthams
Director of Intelligence, ICIA
Chief Security Advisor to the First Speaker

ICIA usually takes on more of the black stuff."

Nancy and Tony exchanged looks. In Tanaara the Intelligence Directorate with it's all seeing Horus eye insignia, handled all intelligence. And they were without a doubt the finest intelligence organization in the region.

Even the national news paper, The Tanaaran Intelligencer-well named indeed, was subscribed to by agencies the world around. The paper more often had the inside scoops before the agencies did - even the 'Great Whites' - the American CIA, Israel's Mossad, the KGB of legend and even the 'little known outside of the incestuous and paranoid world of intellegence agencies, but a hugely respected force with in" - Poland's incredibly suscessful UOP - Urząd Ochrony Państwa

"He didn't survive, but Darren, if the data wew have is correct he didn't die in the crash. The pulse would have short curcuited his brain when it enveloped the plane. He was, in all likelyhood, dead instantly." Nancy answered with honest sympathy. She had lost friends herself, but they had know the risks they were taking, and accepted them. 'You don't take out innocents' She tought angrily. She didn't much care for Imitora and that little was getting less and less.

"But what we'de really like to know is why the Imitoran government, or mabe it was just the military killed one of it's own citizens just cause they flew into and out of Tanaara." Tony knew damn well that the pilot hadn't been killed because of where he'd flown - but who'd he'd flown. Namely the man sitting before them.

The waitress returned with a thick hearty tuna sandwich accompanied by a salad of baby spinnach tossed with a light balsamic vinegarette, a plate of ice mellon slices accented with red flame grapes. The coffee arrived with an array of choices; sugar, three types of honey, dark chocolate shavings,or real cream.

Nancy and Tony had ordered rare roast beef sandwiches with extra sharp white cheddar, granny smith apples wedges, and fresh figs on the side

They let Darren eat in peace. Tanaarans believed in paying full attention to what they were eating, savoring, respectfully the creations of a chefs skill and efforts.

When all were done they sat back and let Darren talk at his own pace, listening attentively, never interrupting, but every now and then taking advantage of the natural pauses that occur in conversation, to clarify a point, to double check their understandiong of what he was saying. Nancy and Tony were well trained in the art of listening and in addition were honestly interested in his story.

Mont Royal Castle, Montgard, Tanaara

The four sitting in the comfortable office were her Majesty’s inner circle, her Privy Secretaries who were also her personal bodyguards, long time friends and arguably the second most powerful group in Tanaara.

“Well it took them long enough and a nice lot of twisted truths and half lies.” Robyn snapped as Sinjin finished reading the missive from Chief Security Advisor David DeMonthams, Director of Intelligence, ICIA.

“I know it’s hard to refrain from telling them not only ‘no but Hell No and where do you get off thinking we can’t take care of ourselves’ and in language ripe enough to raise the dead, but with Mercy not here to give the final chop on it – and too the Imitorans, creating a not so diplomatic incident isn’t the way to do it..” Khadri grinned wickedly. “We politely thank them, but advise them that allowing them to send a team is not possible under Tanaaran law, and could they be so kind as to give us more particulars on said rogue agent. Then, when they do send a team in, and you know those egotistical arses will, we snabble them up and raise a perfectly legitimate fuss. And they get a black eye and learn once again, don’t mess with us.”

Tanaaran ego was just as big as Imitoran ego but they were less prone to rub it into their neighbors’ noses. But insulting them brought out the darker side of Tanaaran nature and one was reminded, very sharply, that Tanaarans were, despite all appearance to the contrary, not nice people- they had been compared to the Drakka for very sound reasons.

Sinjin finished tapping in the wording of the reply and gave his lady a grin that matched hers. “Done, lady love.’ Going directly back to Chief Security Advisor David DeMonthams, Director of Intelligence, ICIA, under the Privy Seal.

“And Penn and Teller are interviewing the young man right now?" Robyn asked.

Her husband Kazuma nodded. “With a psi standing by to truth scan his reasons for coming to Tanaara, if he’s willing to trust us and agree to the scan. If he’s truthfull, we’ll give him every cover.”

“Good. I hope he accepts” Robyn sighed. “I’m beginning to think that all the good Imitorans up and left when Fortier died.”

“Oh it was starting before that, and even Hoot couldn’t seem to stop their downward slide.” Khadri said seriously.

~~~

TO: Chief Security Advisor David DeMonthams, Director of Intelligence, ICIA
From: Her Royal Highness, Queen Mercedez Merideath Hexx
RE: Secuirty Breach

Director DeMonthams,

Thank you for your timely advisement concerning the possible entry into Tanaara of this rogue agent, one Daren Winston. It would be a great tragedy if he did indeed use the skills he learned at the Imitoran Central Intelligence Agency against the people and nation of Tanaara.

However as in reguards to your request to send a team of Imitorans into Tanaara to detain this rogue agent, I regret to inform you that our laws do not allow for such incursion.

Perhaps you could provide us with additional information concerning this Darren Winston, which would aid us greatly in apprehending this person before he casues harm.

Sincerely,

Sinjin, Lord Kincannon
Privy Secretray to HRH Mercxewdez Merrideath Hexx
under the Privy Seal

Ft. Griffith Special Warfare Center, Clarton, Imitora

DeMonthams looked at the communiqu from the Tanaarans. He sighed, and shrugged his shoulders. The response would be freindly enough. However, it was far from DeMonthams motives to go with this plan. He crumpled up the print out from Tanaara, and tossed it out in a trash can on his way to the locker rooms.

Fortier and Salazzo were loading up duffle bags with their gear: load kits, fatigues, holsters, and the like. They were over loading the bags, making sure they had everything they needed, from extra socks to burlap wraps for the rifles. Just in case.

"Stop loading up," DeMonthams said, looking at the gear. "We're doing something different. Tanaarans don't want us comming in, not in force. I don't trust them to handle this, most likely they've already grabbed the agent and are pumping for info. Don't want us to get credit for the kill."

Fortier nodded. "Let me guess, standard infiltration. Split team and such."

DeMonthams nodded in response. "You boys are trained to do this, so I'm leaving it up to you. Get in best way you can, meet up at the Imitoran embassy. We'll get you equiped there."
__

Montgard, Tanaara

Darren finished his sandwhich, and took a long pull from his third cup of dark, black coffee. "I have some information. Its some info that many people high up in the ICIA command sequence really don't want others to know."

He paused a moment, glancing back across the square. "I don't wanna say what it is, because I could be wrong. Its something pretty nasty, and thats why I'm sure that there must be a team or two out there comming after me."

and thats why I'm sure that there must be a team or two out there comming after me."

"Most like, and your caution is understandable, and admirable." Tony agreed.Tanaaran and Imitoran intrests had crossed before and both he and Nancy, as well as their superiors, knew well that Imitora would just send hitters in in disguise.

"Darren, I don't know how much it's used in Imitora, but here were use psionics to ascertain the truth of a persons intentions. These psionics are oath sworn to look no further into a persons mind than that without the subjects express permission. Would you agree to a basic truth scan?"

Both she and Tony were concerned that the Imitoran might balk at this, it was not something Imitorand were used to. Infact they had no data available to them on the subject of Psionic and Imitorans. So either there weren't any, or they were top lock secret. However Imitorans, at least those who fought in the war in Tarlachia, had been exposed of psionics, knew they existed and had even in a most limited fashion worked with them. The piosnic healers had saved many a life, and the Tanaran Empires 501st and their psimechs had been the subject of one documentary that was broad cast in Tanaara, though they didn't know if it had been aired in Imitora.

She waited apprehensively for Darren's reply.

Montgard, Tanaara

Darren looked down at his key chain. He pushed it over to the two agents. "Its password protected, the flash drive. You need a special program to open the password, it automatically changes every so often. I can get access to the password and program, but I'm not gonna do it yet."

Darren was slowly starting to trust these two. Slowly. He wasn't going to just give up all the info, save they be hired out by the ICIA. And he was telling the truth.

Darren had designed the program back in college, and it had gotten him the job at the ICIA. The two piece set up required a flash drive or other source to hold data, and a decent sized server to hide the parrent program. The flash drive would hold a secondary program that used a continuely changing alogorithim to create random passwords at random intervals. In order to prevent this from keeping the drive totally unreadable, Darren then stored a program on a server that would stop the algorithim from changing, read the data set, and then generate a password that would open up the drive.

"I kinda trust you, but I still dunno. No offense or anything, but you have to understand." He trailed off, and took another long pull on the coffee. "This way, if my brain gets fried, the data stays secret, and the secret stays with me."

Darren realized he really had no room to negotiate, but at this point, the two Tanaarans had seemed reasonable enough, and he hoped they would understand. "Also, I want to present the data to whomever I need to myself, right up front. And I wanna stay here. Like, here, this area. I like it. I have a full week in the hotel already paid for, so I'll finish it up. It'll be harder to track me from the hotel, and I can use this cafe for net access. Make it difficult to track. I always hated going after cyber punks using net cafes."

He sighed quietly, his eyes still sad. In the past day, he had gotten a freind killed, and would most likely himself end up dead. All for the right thing. "Ok, lets do this."
__

Imitoran Embassy, Montgard, Tanaara

It had taken four flights, paying straight out of his own private account, two taxis, a three mile walk, and a rental car to get Ryan to the Imitoran Embassy. The route had been carefully planned to allow Ryan a quick tour of Montgard and get his bearings straight. The seemingly odd path had been carefully planned by looking at numerous maps, both public and private sector produced, of the city, and the general area of operations.

He would have prefered the cooperation of the Tanaaran government on this op, but he could handle it with Selvin alone. Selvin was taking the easy way in, a diplomatic flight to be picked up by helicopter and delivered directly to the embassy. Ryan chuckled at the thought, and went back to studying a new map. It gave the locations of every major computer electronics store, internet cafe, and major communication hub in Montgard. The ICIA briefing had mentioned that Darren was a hacker, and therefore most likely to find some internet port.

"Hey," Selvin's voice called out behind him, the other Detachment shooter walked into the room and dropped a duffle. "Got the goods." The Embassy security staff had provided a CheyTac .408 Intervention rifle and the needed equipment, as well as two Sig Sauer P226s in .357 Sig. Ryan nodded without looking over his shoulder.

"There are way to many places for this guy to hide local for a two man team. Fuck," he swore, stretching out his neck. "I think we would be best to just pick the hotels, and wait to run into him. Of course, with how many we got out there, damn. We got some good clothes?"

"Yeah," Salazzo replied, comming up behind him to look at the maps. I made sure to pack some of everything. Fatigues, casuals, and even had the embassy hook us up with some suits. The on sight tailor can make us some tuxes if we have to go Jimmy Bond."

Ryan nodded. He forced himself to think in the shoes of Darren. "By now, he's already tried to make contact with some local friendly to help him out. There has to be a local group intent on taking out the government, shit, they just had a coup. But his last card purchase was out of city. But this place would make the most sense for him."

He rubbed his forhead, forcing himself to think back to the COIN training. "Ok, hes gonna be paying in cash. No cards. The withdrawal was only a few grand, and he needs to make it last. So we have to find mid priced hotels, close to internet cafes. He wont be traveling to far."

Selvin nodded. "So we can rule out what, about half of these?"

"At least. Get me a tourist guide, I'm gonna go through and see what looks likely."

Selvin left the room to get the guide, and Ryan began to formulate his plan. He would pick the four most likely hotels, and he and Selvin would stake out two on two seperate days. The operation would require more luck than anything, but when you sent two men to find one man in a nation of billions, not including tourists, business travelers, and the like, luck was all you could ask for.
__

TO:Sinjin, Lord Kincannon, Privy Secretray to HRH Mercedez Merrideath Hexx
FROM: David DeMonthams
RE: Security Breach

Lord Kincannon,

I fully understand and respect your nation's laws, and will not push the issue further. However, should you find you need assistance in this matter, please, feel free to contact our embassy in your nation. I'm sure they will gladly lend a security team to help.

Regarding our breach agent, I have attached with this comuniqué a file photo taken in the past few months. As Darren is not a field operative, he is not well trained much in field craft or disguise. His primary skill comes from his ability to work with computers, and he can access almost any network from a point that had connection. If you have a dedicated cyber terrorism unit, I would recomend that they be alerted to this threat.

I hope this information is usefull to you.

Respectfully

David DeMonthams
Director of Intelligence, ICIA
Chief Security Advisor to the First Speaker

"Ok, lets do this."

"Darren, you hold on to that drive, present it to one of the four horsemen in person." Tony siad firmly as he pushed the drive back over to the Imitoran. "And if you feel comfortable here, thats fine too. We'll handle any monetary concerns that come up."

"Would you like a 'native' account to use here at the cafe?" Nancy asked. There would be no problem setting up an account that would register to a Tanaaran citizen. That said citizen existed only in the cyber world of the master Tanaaran A.I. would be unknown to any save those who set it up.

Tony had given a discrete signal and now another person joined them. She was a tall woman in her early thirties, with dark auburn hair and vivid green eyes. When she spoke her accent was not like anything in the region- while it had over tones of both Tanaara and Imitora it's base was pure American. The tee shirt she wore proclaimed 'I not only survived the Players Run 2k6, but placed in the top five!'

"Hi, I'm Charli."

MOnt Royal, Tanaara

"Well, all the visiting Imitorans are presenting their passports like good upstanding visitors. But I think we've identified their shooters. I 'd still like independant confirmation, but that may take some time. I'm really concerned about this hereg." Robyn handed the list to her husband.

"One of those who came in ID's out as Fortier. Robert's son." Kazuma said with a carefully blank face.

"I'd heard that they'd been trying to sheep dip him." Sinjin added

"Are we certain?" Khadri asked apprehensively. To hear that Robert's son was here to do wet work would upset Mercy greatly. For they would be trying to stop him, and if that meant lethal force, who he was wouldn't save him.

"Our information says that the ICIA has started useing Army units. And this reply from DeMonthams... are you sure I can't find a reason to challenge him to a duel? He is irritating me to the point where I might forget my manners." Sinjin growled.

Darren, you hold on to that drive, present it to one of the four horsemen in person. And if you feel comfortable here, thats fine too. We'll handle any monetary concerns that come up.

"That would work great," Darren answered, putting the key chain back into his pocket. He was starting to think he could trust these Tanaarans. Of course, he had been wrong before, and he would keep the flash drive just in case.

Would you like a 'native' account to use here at the cafe?

"That would be great too. I can use a native account to access the server I need to get to, and I can access it from here. It wont take me long, just need to get in, find where I hid the program, and load it up. The server, well, if it was the same as it was when I hid the program, should still be up. If not, I can just go in and get it from another server."

Darren had been smart, and made copies of the program, hiding it in numerous pieces on more active servers.

Darren looked up at the woman who entered behind him, and nodded. He had never been used to girls with somewhat masculine names, but he would, for the situation, get used to it. She was good looking, and had the type of face that said 'you can trust me.' If nothing else, he mixxed accent was enough to tell him that she wasn't a local, not Imitoran, and maybe a third party.

Hi, I'm Charli.

He nodded and smiled. "Are you the one thats gonna mind probe me?"

"Are you the one thats gonna mind probe me?"

"I can't read minds worth a darn, I'm your protective detail." Charli replied "Tony and Nancy are going to get things set up while we go see Doctor Roth and Lady Shai. Then we'll be right back."

She waited till Darren had finished the last of his current cup of coffee and the escorted him from the cafe. They headed south along the broad sidewalk that was shaded by over arching oaks. She moved gracefully with the long legged stride of some one used to covering long distances, her head tilted back to let the mid day sun dazpple her face. "It's not something to worry about, I had it done when I got hired. Though I was under suspicion of murder at the time, not quite the same circumstances." Charli grinned cheekily. . "I had some preperation for it though. I read tons of sci fi and fantasy, and in the books such abilities can be as common as clouds and rain."

"Oh, and Imitora is claiming you are a cyber terrorist, and out to do brass hats harm. Personally I think they are lieing through their teeth, but then again the last Imitoran I trusted... well " all the good cheer faded from her face and deep sadness shadowed her eyes. "I managed to get him killed."

"Are you the one thats gonna mind probe me?"

"I can't read minds worth a darn, I'm your protective detail." Charli replied "Tony and Nancy are going to get things set up while we go see Doctor Roth and Lady Shai. Then we'll be right back."

She waited till Darren had finished the last of his current cup of coffee and the escorted him from the cafe. They headed south along the broad sidewalk that was shaded by over arching oaks. She moved gracefully with the long legged stride of some one used to covering long distances, her head tilted back to let the mid day sun dazpple her face. "It's not something to worry about, I had it done when I got hired. Though I was under suspicion of murder at the time, not quite the same circumstances." Charli grinned cheekily. . "I had some preperation for it though. I read tons of sci fi and fantasy, and in the books such abilities can be as common as clouds and rain."

"Oh, and Imitora is claiming you are a cyber terrorist, and out to do brass hats harm. Personally I think they are lying through their teeth, but then again the last Imitoran I trusted... well " all the good cheer faded from her face and deep sadness shadowed her eyes. "I managed to get him killed."

Oh, and Imitora is claiming you are a cyber terrorist, and out to do brass hats harm. Personally I think they are lying through their teeth, but then again the last Imitoran I trusted,well, I managed to get him killed.

"Uh, a cyber tango. Good stuff. I've never actully been called a threat to anyone before, so I guess I'm moving on up."

Darren felt far more comfortable with this new escort, feeling that she could be trusted a bit more than the two agents. He had never been one to trust intelligence agents, which he often found ironic as he himself, was technically, and intelligence agent.

He listened to her voice tone drop at the comment about her past trust, and nodded.

"Well, I don't really have the preperation for a mind sweep or anything like that, never really been into the fantasy of sci-fi stuff. More of a Clive Cussler fan myself," he chuckled. "But I assume its just gonna be a quick blink, or are blow up heads common?"

He stopped for a moment, and added, "Oh, and I'll tell ya what. Keep me from getting killed, and I wont hold it against you that the last one was."

It sounded better in his head, and when it actually came out, he shuddered, realizing how insensitive it sounded. "Sorry," he added. "That sounded a bit funnier in my head."
__

Charli would have her work cut out for her. Ryan and Selvin looked hard at the map laid out in front of them, with a large circle scrawled around a decent sized area. However, in that large area, which wasn't so large due to scale, were four distinct marks. Each mark represented a possible hotel where Darren was staying.

Selvin had done most of the grunt work in picking up the tourista information, and Ryan had crunched plenty of numbers to limit down the four most likely hotels where Darren would stay. Critera had been absed on cost, accesability to the city, ammenities, and more. Ryan sighed the sigh of satisfaction and fatigue together, and looked over the drawn up plan once more.

"Right," he said, his voice being transmitted over a speaker phone back to Imitora. "The plan is based far more on luck than anything else. We've picked four of the most likely places for the mark to stay. Each location offers good pricing and privacy, takes cash, and is near an internet cafe. We think he'll use a net cafe for all his access, it will allow him to change IP addies instantly, just by shifting over to another computer. That we, he can hack freely, and a net cafe is already plugged into the system."

Selvin spoke up next. "We think that by this point, he already has made contact with a local terror group, and is selling his services. However, if he paid attention at all in the COIN classes, he knows not to flash cash, but keep a low profile. Winston, by our estimation, has already achieved a principle status, so he'll have at least one gaurd."

Ryan finished it up. "In order to keep civy casualties low, and our own desire for a low profile, we are going to stick with the sniper shot. We'd like to avoid an open hit on the streets, so long range is the way to go. We are hoping to catch him at one of the hotels, tail him for a day or so to figure out his plan, and then nail him."

The CO voiced his approval of the operation, and disconnected the phone line.

Ryan looked up. "For fuck's sake man, this is gonna be some hard ass shit."

Selvin nodded. "This is the type of thing that when you pull it off, you get a nice medal for. Not that you already don't have enough."

Ryan chuckled, and shifted. He wasn't used to the Sig riding low on his hip, he would need to secure a decent 1911 from the embassy staff before going out on the operation. "Its not like I can wear them, ya know. All that 'this mission is secret' type of shit. But hell, never signed on for the pay check or recognition, right?"

Selvin nodded. "So whats the plan. Catch some shut eye now, get up early, and get to work."

"Hou-up," Ryan replied, the tradition reply of the Imitoran Pathfinders, the US Army Ranger like unit he had been selected from to operate in the Detachment. "We gotta get up early and get to work. Embassy staff has rooms set up for us, I'm gonna get me a better piece and hit the sack. We're up at 0245 local, start preperations then. On the streets to the hotels at 0315, give us a nice full day of work."

"Christ man," Selvin chuckled, looking at his watch. "Its only 1425. This is gonna be the most sleep I've gotten since pre-selection."

Ryan nodded. "Well, we'll be pulling something north of a full twenty four hour shift, so I want us to have some sleep under our belts. I'm thinking some R&R, in bed no later than 1600."

"Hou-up man," Selvin nodded.

Ryan nodded, and left to find an embassy staffer with a better weapon. Selvin, the ever eternal ladies man, went off to talk the the rather attractive female staffer working the front desk.

"But I assume its just gonna be a quick blink, or are blow up heads common?"

Charli shrugged. "I never felt a thing. And I've read three copies of Raise the Titanic to flinders and the subterranian river ride by Dirk and Giordino in Inca Gold is one of my dream vacations, though with an easier way out. I pretty much read anything I can get my hands on, it's a happy hold over from my childhood. I was raised in Alaska, eight months out of the year nothing much to do but keep from freezing and read."

"That sounded a bit funnier in my head."

Charli sighed gustily. "No it's okay. He died saving others, but damn it he wouldn'ta been there if he hadn't been visiting with me." Shaking her head she halted as they came to the end of the square.

"Darren, the square itself is designed to be easily protected." Her hand wave took in the London style square with limited vehicle access.

The central park holding a pavallion, a fountain, rose gardens and many mature, sprawling oaks. The buildings set about it each had their own extensive gardens wrapping them in living curtains of privacy - Tanaaran's built green space in around each of their buildings, giving even office and commercial buildings plenty of space. Several acres seperated each building, and most had roof styles not conducive people going unnoticed, or staying upon them easily. It snowed not infrequently in Montgard and most had decorative, somewhat steeply angled gabel roofs, rather than the 'flat top with small parapet' found in climes that seldom had to deal with the weight of snow on structures.

"None of the buildings are over ten storeys, you'll notice, and the height of the trees hides line of sight for most of the side walk." She explained further how the design kept casual vehicile traffic out "You don't come into squares like this to just get from point A to B, but the sidewalks do get lots of use." Tanaarans liked their exercise.

Tanaaran cities weren't like cities found in Europe or the east coast of the America, all cluttered together, but like those in Texas Houston, or Dallas. Montgard sprawled it's way over the many hills and on both sides of the river as well. Sidewals were broad and tree shaded, as were the mostly boulevarded streets.

"However, now we are venturing in to less restricted territory." She reached out and casually took Darren's hand before starting up again. The sidewalk and road began taking a downwards slope - the square actially occcupied the top of a large hill and now Darren could see more of the city stretched out before them, the river wending it's way though the hills.

"Some of the mega corps towers have an excellent view of this stretch, but we're only going to that building there. " Charli indicated a soaring tower, some two thousand yards away, the road and the sidewalk curving around the piece of land it held sway over, as they swept down the gently sloping hill side.

It was a one hundred and twenty-story cylindrical office tower of silver metal framing broad expanses of glass that reflected light in hues of deepest green. Parking was completely underground, leaving the column to rise from a seventy acre wooded park highlighted by a serene reflecting pool and numerous statues, primarily in the classical Grecian mode. Woodchip paths wound through the park, discretely lined with state of the military art grade sensors. More stood all but invisible sentry throughout the zone surrounding the building that had once been the headquarters of Emerald Industries.

"Well Tanaaran's aren't the only one who like a good stroll..and about you being a threat. I don't know what you have, and I don't want to beyond enough curosity to kill a cat..." She twitched a grin at him as they headed towards the tower's main security gate. "But you've scared some body bad, and that might not be so bad a thing. The truth may not set one free, but I prefer truth to lies."

She didn't let his hand go as with her other she fished a small disk out of her pocket and waved it infront of a sensor. The nicely decorative steel gate clicked open and allowed them entry to the grounds.

Darren approved of the lay out of the square, and the city in general. It was quiet similar to the garden district of Northampton, with most of Northampton laid out in a similar style, save for the industrial and business districts.

"Its nice here. After all this shit I gotta deal with, my try to set up shop."

He listened intently as Charli explained the lay out of the square. He felt that it would prove conducive to his survival to follow her instructions and directions of the lay out, should he need to run. Of course, the comfort levels he had felt as of recent were telling him not to worry too much. It was an interesting feeling, to say the least. Darren was a born worrier, and to be told to not worry, we'll keep you safe, was something he wasn't used to.

Some of the mega corps towers have an excellent view of this stretch, but we're only going to that building there.

Darren looked out at the massive structure towering in the distance. He had no words to describe what he saw, the towering building larger than anything he had been exposed to. Many of the buildings in Northampton were just as, if not larger, but they had just as many underground stories as they did above ground, hiding their size. That, mixed with the fact that the highways and biways of Northampton actually weeved in between, and in some cases, through the buildings, made the city seem much different from Montgard.

I don't know what you have, and I don't want to beyond enough curosity to kill a cat. But you've scared some body bad, and that might not be so bad a thing. The truth may not set one free, but I prefer truth to lies.

"Right," Darren replied, his voice having a somewhat sarcastic tone to it.

He watched as the gate opened, an almost ominous feeling overwashing him. He stepped forward with Charli.

"Wellp," he said, nerviously. "Time to go take the Red Pill."

"Time to go take the Red Pill."

"Truth may hurt, but it's the sort of hurt that heals clean. Lies fester." She found herself feeling protective of Darren, she knew he had be be more concerned than he was showing.

When they reached the tower, one of the side entrances, not the primary one which had live security not just telepresence and sensors, Charli stopped again "Darren" Her voice was deadly serious "I was sent to keep you safe, and I intend to do just that."

The barely noticible door slid open and she tugged him inside before letting go of his hand. The small lobby they had stepped into was eloegantly appointed, but empty. An elevator, nearly as unnoticible as the door they'd just entered chimed softly and the elevator cab door slid open.

With smooth speed it took them to the penthouse level, opening directly on to a vast room that appeared to be some ones living room. It was done in soothing shades of blue and green with rich dark woods as accents. The elevator core appeared to be the center of the cylinder, for as they exited the cab they could see that there was a full 360 degree view of the city and surrounding countryside.

A very tall man, standing at least six foot six, stood from the couch where he had been reeading through an thick over size book. He strod towards the two, extending his hand in welcome. "Hello. You must be Darren Winston. I'm Doctor Daveed Roth" He shook Darren's hand with a firm but not painful grip. He didn't look much like a doctor, he loked like a man that had spent much of his life out doors, with plenty of exercise. "And Charli, it's good to see you again." He turned to Darren's escort and they exchanged forearm grips before he drew her into a brief hug, as she thumped his back lightly.

"Goiod to see you too Doc! Salvaged any demons lately?"

"Nope, can't find a one worth interviewing." He grinned down at Charli and then turned back to Darren. "I bet you are wondering what you've gotten yourself into. Would you care for something to drink, and an explaination?"

Darren moved with a new found confidence at Charli's assertion, her words comforting. He followed closely as they slipped into the side door to the office, and on the elevator. He chuckled unconsciously at the lack of muzak in the elevator, glad he didn't have to deal with the grating and mind numbing renditon of some classic piece of music on top of his other concerns.

The room they opened up into was well appointed, something he would expect in the office of someone who was well paid for what the did, and did what they did well. If it weren't for the more earthy, softer tones, it would remind him of the one time he had met with the ICIA director, David DeMonthams, for his entrance interviews. The office was about the same size and lay out, but the ICIA office had been done up in more professional blacks and browns.

However, the one thing that seperated this office from most, was the view. DeMonthams office had been faving the rest of the government sector, with the other massive buildings jutting up into the sky. However, this office come living room offered a beautiful view that was unmatched from most he had seen.

Hello. You must be Darren Winston. I'm Doctor Daveed Roth. I bet you are wondering what you've gotten yourself into. Would you care for something to drink, and an explaination?

Darren turned to accept the man's hand shake and question. "Yeah," he chuckled. "You could say that." He looked back out the window for a moment, as if to question his very reason for being there, and then back to the doctor. "Iced tea, if ya got any. And an explination, most definately."

"Iced tea, if ya got any. And an explination, most definately

"Make that..." He looked at Charli "You still favor iced tea?" She nodded and he continued speaking, apparently to the air "three ided teas please."

He waved them over to the chairs by the sofa "Please make yourself comfortable." And once they'd sat he continued "Darren, I'm some one gifted with psionic talents. Not ever one has some, many have so low a 'power rating' that what they have they will never be able to consciously control, knowingly direct. My rating is considered well above average, and I've trained for many year to use it properly. I've sworn oaths, that bind me on many levels never to misuse my abilities."

"Do some psionics fall and begin misuseing their abilities? Yes, we're all only human and there is the potential for harm and evil in all of us. However I won't 'read' any deeper than to know if you are being honest. I won't 'see' the information, the specific knowledge you are holding, just your intent - are you here to be a cyber terrorist - or any sort of terrorist, or to bring harm to the people of Tanaara."

"And there is a difference. The information you hold may hurt others. Knowledge that someone has, say, committed murder. It will help the authorities solve a crime, but in solving that crime, the perpertrators may go to prison, or be executed. That, in a way is harmful, to them, they lose their freedon, perhaps their life. but there is a differe3nce in intentional harm, and the harm that comes as redress."

He paused as the tea arrived, bought in by a figure anonymous behind crimson robes and veils. The tray bore three tall glasses of tea along with bowls of sugar, lemon slices and sprigs of fresh mint. Daveed thanked the tray bearer and the silent figure departed.

"Any questions?"

"Iced tea, if ya got any. And an explination, most definately

"Make that..." He looked at Charli "You still favor iced tea?" She nodded and he continued speaking, apparently to the air "three ided teas please."

He waved them over to the chairs by the sofa "Please make yourself comfortable." And once they'd sat he continued "Darren, I'm some one gifted with psionic talents. Not ever one has some, many have so low a 'power rating' that what they have they will never be able to consciously control, knowingly direct. My rating is considered well above average, and I've trained for many year to use it properly. I've sworn oaths, that bind me on many levels never to misuse my abilities."

"Do some psionics fall and begin misuseing their abilities? Yes, we're all only human and there is the potential for harm and evil in all of us. However I won't 'read' any deeper than to know if you are being honest. I won't 'see' the information, the specific knowledge you are holding, just your intent - are you here to be a cyber terrorist - or any sort of terrorist, or to bring harm to the people of Tanaara."

"And there is a difference. The information you hold may hurt others. Knowledge that someone has, say, committed murder. It will help the authorities solve a crime, but in solving that crime, the perpertrators may go to prison, or be executed. That, in a way is harmful, to them - they lose their freedon, perhaps their life. but there is a difference in intentional harm, and the harm that comes as redress."

He paused as the tea arrived, bought in by a figure anonymous behind crimson robes and veils of heavy silk. The tray bore three tall glasses of tea along with bowls of sugar, lemon slices and sprigs of fresh mint. Daveed thanked the tray bearer and the silent figure departed.

"Any questions?"

And there is a difference. The information you hold may hurt others. Knowledge that someone has, say, committed murder. It will help the authorities solve a crime, but in solving that crime, the perpertrators may go to prison, or be executed. That, in a way is harmful, to them - they lose their freedon, perhaps their life. but there is a difference in intentional harm, and the harm that comes as redress.

Darren nodded. "Now, only if we can convince my ex boss that."

He took one of the tall, cold glasses of tea, and swirlled in two packs of sugar, squeezed in a lemon, and crushed a mint, pushing it down to the bottom of the glass. He took a long, slow, pull, letting the sweet drink slide down. He sighed softly, looking out past Daveed and through the window.

I've sworn oaths, that bind me on many levels never to misuse my abilities.

The words tumbled through his head, making Darren chuckle. "Huh," he mused outloud, "to think. Someone actually up holding their oath to only do good."

Any questions?

Darren shook his head, taking another long drink of the iced tea. "Not that I can think of. So, lets go ahead and step through the looking glass."

So, lets go ahead and step through the looking glass."

"Could you please say it formally, for the record. If you voluntarily agree to a minimal mental scan, please say so."

"I voluntarily agreee to a minimal mental scan." Darren stated.

He didn't feel anything, any difference, then for a moment he felt as if some one were standing very close to him, as if his 'personal space' had been entered, but not in a bothersome way, but as if by some one he trusted. Then the feeling was gone and he wasn't sure if he had experienced it at all.

Daveed sat back and smiled. "You are telling the truth, your intentions are not harmfull, and your mind has not been manipulated, coerced or altered in any way."

Charli grinned, "I told you. He feels like a good egg."

"So you did. Darren thank you fvor trusting me, and I know they'll arrange a meeting with the people who can help you as soon as possible." Daveed nodded. "However Darren, I understand that the Imitoran government is very unforgiving, so please be carefull untill this all gets sorted out. You are in danger, but it is very nebulous and I can say no more than the danger peaking soon."

"Oh great, Darren, lets get you back into the safety zone before it gets dark, how 'bout."

However Darren, I understand that the Imitoran government is very unforgiving, so please be carefull untill this all gets sorted out. You are in danger, but it is very nebulous and I can say no more than the danger peaking soon.

Darren nodded. "Unforgiving, that may be the overstatement of the year."

Beyond a new, odd present feeling, Darren had no more worries about the psych scan. However, it had been over before he even realized it started, and he felt normal again.

"At least that wasn't so bad."

Oh great, Darren, lets get you back into the safety zone before it gets dark, how 'bout.

Darren nodded, standing. "Thanks for the tea, Doc, but I think Charli is right."

Thanks for the tea, Doc, but I think Charli is right."

"Actually..." Charlie weighed various factors and came to a decission. "Darren...You're Imitoran, Imitorans love hot cars. The Phoenix is one of the hottest, and there's something I want you to see anyway."

She looked over at Daveed. " 'Port us to The Wall, and I'll owe you big time." as she took Darren's hand.

"He's gonna freak." Daveed looked at Darren and gave him a wicked grin.

Then, less time than it took to blink Darren found himself, still with his hand held by Charli, elsewhere.

Darren...You're Imitoran, Imitorans love hot cars. The Phoenix is one of the hottest, and there's something I want you to see anyway.

Darren was no street racer by any means, and like many of his coworkers, actually strayed from that group. Liek most of his ilk in Imitoran society, the hackers and slackers saw most of the street racers as a lower class than they. Darren himself had made reference many a time to the "Appalachian mongloid mouth breathers" who "only cared about how big they can make women think they are hung through exhaust notes."

However, he did appriciate a well done car, understanding the engineering complexities that often went into creating a fine automobile. That, and they all needed computers.

Following the teleport, Darren remained oddly calm. At this point, he was ready to accept just about anything. Government coverups, ICIA assasinations on a former employee, psycic scans, hell. Teleportation may just be the most normal thing for him to accept. He blinked a few times, his body trying to catch up to his accepting mind, and looked around.

Darren found himself and Charli standing on what had to be one of the highest hill tops in the city. He could that there was a still higher summit o the north but it was a distance off. That one was crowned with a sprawling, but miniaturizzed by the distance, castle set amid lush gardens.

But it was the hilltop he was on that claimed most of his attention. Darren and Charli stood on broad walkway, constructed of some seamless, smooth stone of dull black. The walkway was fully thirty feet wide and ran straight ahead to what looked like a wall of gold bisceted by a stairway carved out of more of the black stone.

Above the wall of highly polished metal he could see the building that occupied the higher portion of the hill top. It was a long building with a central dome. Not including the dome, it was three storeys in the center with a wing at either end that rose a story taller. The way the site was designed it seemed to float, the golden walls its foundation.

He and Charli were standing in a 'clear zone' - devoid of trees, and swarded with dense grass that had a bluish under tone to it. He would later learn that it was Kentucky Bluegrass, imported yeears ago. This clear zone ran some thirty feet wide.

Looking back he could see that the walkway he was on, once past the clear zone was brodered by centuries old okas, their massive branches intertwining over head to create and airy tunnel. He could see that there were small groves of other trees here and there across the hill top, as were several small fountains, and other garden features.

The stairway that divided the walls was itself divided by a wmall waterfall in a deep crevasse, that flowed down the chasm and disappeared from view at the bottom of the stairs. The stairs were twentfive feet tall, the height of the walls.

Charli urged him on to where the walkway that ran in front of the walls crossed the one they were on. Closer now he could see that the walls were inset with names.

The names of those that Tanaara wished to honour into eternity. The names were done in a simple but elegant script forged of blackened titanium and inset into the wall. Here and there at the base of the wall which stretched for nearly five hundred feet on either side of the stairs were small 'shrines' - photographs, mememtos, flower arrangements and such set up against the golden wall, some simple some incredibly elaborate, some as simple as a single flower. None were old and faded, none tattered and torn. There were special grounds keepers who's sole job was to tend the offerings.

"The spring that runs down the center of the stairs, is the original spring found by the Tanaarans when they came to build Montgard. According to the information in the Founder's Room of the Tanaaran National Museum that is." Charlie mentioned absently, as her eyes searched the right hand wall.

"The Tanaaran Wall of Honour." Her voice reverant. She understood the Tanaran reverance for Honour, bravery, selfless action, sacrifice, valor and rememberance...and revenge.

"Every one who has died, or fought with honour for Tanaara is listed here. Back in the eighties America did something like this for their Vietnam vetrans. This wall has been here since the founding. To get listed here is like earning the Congressional Medal of Honor, but even harder." She found the section she'd been hunting and touched a name with a hesitant finger.

Among the others listed, are the names of the Imitorans who came to help Tanaara stop the coup. And at the top of it was the name of Captain Robert Francis Fortier - the date of his birth, his death and a miniature of the medals he earned for his actions - each name on the wall has those.

The Imitorans have a special dedication above the list of their names They came in our hour of need, the cost unweighed. All honour to these, brothers of our soul" also done in the black titanium.

She stood lost in thought for a second then shook herself briskly, as if throwing something off.

Darren felt at ease at the memorial, his eyes dancing over names.

He followed Charli to the list of Imitoran names, looking for any that he knew. He saw none, but nodded. They all listed as Marines, Force Recon TRACT. Some of the bigger and badder ass kickers around, and the ICIA used to take liberities with their usage. They had switched to using Army units recently, ONI having taken command of the TRACT teams.

He remained silent for Charli, taking in the memorial for what it was worth.

Her eyes brighted as Charli turned away. "Now on to bigger and badder things of a mechanical nature. I needed to break the Phoenix out of storage anyways, so I'll give you the ninety mile 'n hour tour of the city. Then get you back in time for a nice quiet dinner, and as many hours as you want deep in the mysteries of what ever it is that computer gurus do."

Though she was comfortable with casual computer use she was no hacker and not that interested in 'snuffeling around in people's cyber closets.' as she had put it in the past.

The broad hill that housed the Tanaara capitol building and grounds also housed more than one highly secure garage facility. Moving briskly, little slowed by security check points - her ID, and right to be there, confirmed by several different methods - Charli led Darren to the one where she normally stowed the AMX3.

"I've got a couple of daily drivers, but this is my baby. He's never let me down in a crunch." She siad proudly, letting Darren take his time in looking the rare mid engine car over.

Darren took the car in, admiring its form. He wasn't familiar on the shape or style, and couldn't name it, but it did look nice. It had a distinctly old school feel to it, even though it looked like one of the new age supercars he had often seen blasting around Northampton. He understood only slightly how one could get involved in the automotive tuning sector. Of course, there were those who could barely comprehend how one could get as involved in computers as Winston did.

Now on to bigger and badder things of a mechanical nature. I needed to break the Phoenix out of storage anyways, so I'll give you the ninety mile 'n hour tour of the city. Then get you back in time for a nice quiet dinner, and as many hours as you want deep in the mysteries of what ever it is that computer gurus do.

Darren chuckled. "Eat pizza, watch the Matrix trilogy on repeat, and talk about CPUs. Which I doubt is all that different from the car guru types."

He ran his hand along the car, admiring it if for nothing else than the general engineering aspect. The car obviously took some work to figure out, and wasn't something that anyone just tossed together on a random whim.

I've got a couple of daily drivers, but this is my baby. He's never let me down in a crunch.

"It's nice. I've been dealing with a 94 Nissan Sentra for pretty much my entire life, so something this nice is new to me."

"It's nice. I've been dealing with a 94 Nissan Sentra for pretty much my entire life, so something this nice is new to me."

Charli smiled pleased at his admiration of the Phoenix, though his reply let her know that he was not as deeply into cars as most of the Imitorans she dealt with.

"Are you sure that pizza, old movies and such are what you want? Montgard is like Northampton, it's a twentyfour hour a day city, and as international as it gets. Cuisine, movies, entertainment from around the globe, Monte Carlo style gambling, or if you like it livlier Vegas style casinos too. Horse racing, car racing, sports of all types, and heck if you are interested we coulde take the beanstalk up to Tanaara's near space orbital habitat. You can fly in micro gravity, swim in zero g and such." She grinned she remembered how much fun she'd had up there, and remembered also how much she had gawked.

Montgard is loke Northampton, it's a twentyfour hour a day city, and as international as it gets.

Darren nodded, understanding exactly what Charli meant. Still, he had never been that guy, the one to go party and live it up.

He took a deep breath, feeling the fatigue run over him.

"Any other time, I'd definately take you up on the offer. Really. But right now, I just dunno. I could use a good meal, I'll tell ya that much, and maybe, just collapse. This whole spy game and running and all that, well, its new to me. I work for the ICIA, yeah, but I'm no field geek. Not a James Bond or Ethan Phelps type. I'm not even Q. I'm the guy who makes sure emails are coded properly and test different encroachment programs."

Darren offered a weak smile. He was still overly confused about this situation, the entire events of just over two days having torn his core beliefs apart. What he needed was some food. Pasta, either Italian or Asian style. Then a good long sleep in a comfy bed. Tommorow, he would access the files he needed, reconstruct his program, and decode the files on the flash. Then he'd pass on the info, and hopefully the Tanaaran government would be able to solve the problem.

I'm the guy who makes sure emails are coded properly and test different encroachment programs."

Charli saw the fatigue he couldn't really hide, and the inner confusion, and her smile was gentle. "Don't worry Darren, I'm not any of those either. I just agreed to help out some friends."

She thought for a second. "How about some comfort food...Let me call TMC, and we can pick something up and take it some place comfortable, if you don't want to dine in."

Too Many Cooks was the best comfort food restraunt in Montgard, and expertly served up the comfort foods of over a dozen different cultures. Every thing from meatloaf, stew, pasta, soups, and they'd take special orders if you knew 'the code'. Charli hadn't been in Tanaara long but her friends had made sure she knew all the right stuff.

"What are you in the mood for Darren?"

Mount Royale, Montgard Tanaara

"So he's telling the truth."

"Unless the information he was given is a fabrication, some sort of disinformation. He believes it to be factual. He has no intention of causeing us any harm, no intent to contact or be a part of - knowingly - any sort of terrorist activity." Dr. Roth looked at Lord Kincannon and expounded further. "His confusion, his...soul searching...is obvious even to some one minimally gifted. He's doing the right thing- in his mind -but it is in conflict with his natural love of country and people."

"I'll let Charli know to bring him by tomorrow. Reassure him that we may toast Imitora's government's toes but we aren't holding it against Imitora as a whole." Sinjin replied. "Thank you Daveed for helping me on this."

"Not a problem. He's a good kid, and you all are good people. This is what I trained for over a hundred years to do."

Sinjin just aloud and shook his head. "Even thinking about the time distortion between Shadow and Earth just boggles. Realizing that Shadow exists at all, that I'm just taking on the evidence of my own two eyes. " He stood and appologised " With this Regional Conference starting in two day's and Mercy already on the International Isle, I've got enough work for five men, so you'll have to excuse me. But you and Lady Shai need to come to dinner after this potential boonedoggle is done. We don't get to see you two enough."

Daveed stood and grinned at his friend. " Dinner and a evening of good b.s.? Wouldn't pass it up for anything. If you need any more help, just ask." He nodded and vanished.

Lord Kincannon just shivered and turned to the pile of papers overflowing his desk. "No rest for the competent." He muttered and sent a message to Charli.

What are you in the mood for Darren?

"Well," Darren started, smiling like a child, "if we're talking comfort food, nothing beats some good ol' B-B-Q. Nice sausage, some brisket, beans, and slaw. Hell, I'll take a pulled pork sandwhich right now, Memphis style."

Darren had always been a fan of Memphis style cooking. The use of honey over tommatoes in the sauce made the food a bit sweeter, and stacking the slaw right on the meat for the sandwhich offered interesting tastes.

"To tell ya the truth, I'm up for just about anything right now.'
__

The main square surrounding the internet café was a busy quiet, full of people not really going anywhere. Ryan watched the crowds through his Oakleys, looking for his intended target. Spotting Darren, he smiled to himself, and nodded the confirmation that Selvin was looking for. Ryan reached down, picked up a duffle bag next to his feet, and started walking over to a black Suburban.

The entire time, he kept his eyes on Darren, although the other man never saw him. He dropped next to the 'Burb, and pulled out a black MP5/10I, the Imitoran version of the 10mm chambered SMG. The weapon was the unanimous choice of many police forces and counter terror units world wide, and for good reason. The Imitoran version, chambered for the 10mm Auto round, was just as acurate as the 9mm round, and featured the popular Navy trigger group, as well as a removal birdcage flash hider. Removing it revelead a threaded barrel to take a silencer.

Ryan also removed a holographic reflex sight, and mounted it to the subgun. He locked in a magazine, close the bolt on a round, and flicked the safety to the three round burst setting. Standing, he watched as Selvin moved up behind the two suit wearing body guards flanking Darren. With a quick, smooth motion that belayed little in the way of internal emotional conflict, he snapped out his Sig, and fired once into the back of the head of the first body gaurd. Selvin dropped and rolled away, and from a reclined position, fired again, taking out the second.

Darren took off in a run, right towards Ryan. He swung out from behind cover of the large SUV, snapped up the MP5/10I to his shoulder, and sqeezed off a single three round burst, the 10mm hollopoints blowing clean into Winston's head, the rear chunk of his skull exploding in a fine mist of blood, bone fragment, and brain matter. However, the body didn't stop charging.

The zombie Darren lept from the ground, tearing into a near by Tanaaran, ripping the body apart. Ryan acted fast, snapping the selector switch to full auto, and giving long bursts into the body of his mark. However, it wouldn't drop, but just kept charging. He rocketed forward towards Ryan, landing on him, and sinking what was left of its lower jaw into his arm.

Ryan exploded upward, his chest covered in sweat, the dark room slowing comming into view as his eyes adjusted. He shook his head, as if trying to shake out the nightmare. They had gotten fewer as of late, but they were still there, haunting him. He checked the time on his cellphone, and realized he still ahd a few hours before he needed to get up. He laid his head back on the firm, hard pillow lended to him by the embassy staff, and forced himself back to sleep.

"To tell ya the truth, I'm up for just about anything right now

Her smile matched his when he mentioned Memphis style barbeque. "Oh gods yes!" She all but moaned "Lets go! Q is something TMC does every day." She remote keyed the locks and the gull wing doors rose.

Minutes later Charli was stopping for the last security checkpoint, then the Phoenix was emerging from a discretely concealed tunnel at the eastern base of the hill and merging into a fast moving multilane highway. There were as many mag lev vehicless gliding a yard off of the road way as there were wheeled vehicles, and high above were the AI controlled sky lanes for antigrav vehicles. The highway was four lanes either way plus a pair of breakdown lanes and had a wide divide - the divide being almost sixty foot in width, and the lanes themselves were far wider than most other countries standards. The heavy collision walls in the middle of the divide were hidden behind well tended shrubs and trees, that given their growth, had been there for many years.

The bridges that criss crossed the wide Khreriov river were multli level with each direction having their own level, and there were signs that directed one to tunnels that dove under the river if one were going to the citys outskirts, or to the port district. The brides were high arcing structures to accomadate the needs of the many ships plying the river. The Khreriov was, even this far inland, fully two miles wide and several hundred feet deep. The blue green ribbon of water appeared even wider due to the verdant green belts, each two miles wide themselves, that bordered both steep banks.

None of the vehicles around them were moving slowly, the righ hand most lane, traditionally the 'slow lane' was moving at a good seventy miles per hour, and the inner lane was discretely but clearly marked 'minimum : 85 mph.'

She was a skillfull driver, and knew how to drive so a not to upset a passenger. The trip was short, barely fifteen minutes passed before she was pulling off on to surface streets. Surface streets were broad boulevards almost without exception, heavily treed and landscaped. Many had traffic circles at intersections with the cirlces being large enough to hold small acre or two parks, and the smaller circles had statuary, or fountains in the center.

The city was marble and jadite, lapis and bronze, towers spiraling skyward, other buildings barely noticable as they burrowed deep in the hills leaving the tops free to house peven more heavily treed parks, sweeping windows heavily tinted bue or green or rich with stained glass. Gardens were as abundant and extensive, as the parks. Riding trails wound though the parks, and here and there were pathwas of wood chips, or greensward marked 'Horses, pedestrians, and cyclists only' that could be used to move easily about the city in other than powered vehicles.

On the surface streets it took another fifteen minutes as Charli wound through what would seem to be a maze. She laughed and explained. "Tanaaran's as a whole think that straight roads are no fun to drive, they like curves. At least they bank them properly."

She pulled into a tree sheltered parking lot, passing a discrete sign that said 'Beware, Too Many Cooks Reside Here.' and found an open slot. It wasn't hard the parking lot was mostly empty. "Most Tanaarans eat dinner late, like they do in Spain."

Leading Darren in to the low slung building that nestled in its gardens as if grown there, Charli sighed happily as the wonderful scents of a well manned kitchen filled her nose. "Ah heaven. So do you want to eat here or get it to go?

Darren admired the city the best he could durring the drive. It reminded him much of Northampton, but much more earth friendly, if it could be. Someplace he could settle down into once this mess was over. He made a mental note to check out local realestate next time he had access to the net.

He enjoyed the ride, and Charli's skill was appearent. Most in Imitora would be far more concerned of how fast they could wrap the neddle in the speedometer around the stop post than the comfort of their passenger. Many times he had taken a ride with a friend and ended up leaving finger prints permenantly etched into the "oh shit" handle. He smiled as they pulled up to the resteraunt, and got a good long wiff of the fresh food.

"Nothing like good old home cooking," he said, more to the air than anything, and exited the car.

Most Tanaarans eat dinner late, like they do in Spain. Do you want to eat here or get it to go?

Darren nodded. "We eat earlier in Imitora, give us time to take a nap and relax if we wanna go out later. Most places serve dinner between five and nine pm."

He stretched out as he followed Charli to the door. "I think eating here would be fine. Take some time to enjoy the foob before it gets cold and all."

"I think eating here would be fine. Take some time to enjoy the foob before it gets cold and all."

Charli laughed at his comment about Imitorans eating earlier. "Here they nap, then go out and eat. I lived in Houston for a while and they constantly got recognised as the U.S.city that eats out the most. Tanaarans as a whole make Houstonians look like pikers in the eating out department. Some I know eat out five meals a day and think nothing of it."

Not looking for a hostess Charli wound through the many room sprawling restraunt, to a section that was completely empty. Catching a waitresses eye as she slid into a booth, she called for double platters of bootleggers lunch and a pitcher of southern style tea, both with all the trimmings.

"Thats Memphis style BBQ, beef brisket, pulled pork and small ribs, with slaw, beans and potato salad. And the tea is slow brewed with lemon and mint on the side to fix to your taste. Or would you like a beer? They not only have some kick ass national brews, but import from world wide." SHe grinned at him "Even Imitoran brands"

Darren laughed. "No, Imitoran beer and I don't get along that well. The 8.0 alcohol content of the ales and the 7.8 in the lagers tend to get me gone pretty fast, I'm not much of a drinker. Though, there were some nights back in college where Tequilla and I became close friends. Nothing like a good blanco to take the edge off a long day."

He took the ice tea, and poured a full glass. He hungrilly went for the ribs and pulled pork, making a ncie sized sandwhich. He kept the beans on the side, giving them a few shots from a bottle of Tabasco sauce, and happily began to eat.

Swallowing a bite of his meal, he took a look around the empty section for any straggelers that appeared suspicious. Seeing none, and finally feeling out of the spotlight for a while, he allowed himself to fully relax.

"So, what brings you out to Tanaara. I mean, I assume your not local?"

She'd nodded at Darrens comment about not being much of a drinker, she wasn't either.

"So, what brings you out to Tanaara. I mean, I assume your not local?"

"Not local in the least, but I think I'm gonna hang here for a few years, maybe a life time. But no, I'm from the States, Alaskan bush, fruits n' nuts, shake an' bake, rocky mountain high," She named off the western half of the U.S., home to the finest, and most experienced smoke jumpers in the world "anywhere there were wild lands that burned, then Texas.." Her voice trailed off there, her face unrealizedly grim as she took a few bites of slaw and some of the meltingly tender pulled pork.

After a few minutes she shrugged and continued "Followed the rally circuit, Europe, Imitora, Tarlachia, Tanaara, made some friends here. "

And some how Darren got the feeling that while Charli might know a lot of people, she had very, very few who'd she'd call friends. He also go the feeling that she'd never really called any place home. The food was everything one would hope it to be and there was plenty of it. By the time both were full, a trickle of other patrons had started to fill the restraunt.

"I don't think I can eat another bite." Charli leaned back and stretched.

She had found herself telling Darren far more about herself than she normally did even to what few friends she had. And that bothered her considerably, as she couldn't figure out why she was being so open with a virtual stranger 'Unless it's 'cause he's hunted, just like me. It must be so hard on him to give up his life. I never had a life to give up, and if I did would I have the courage to leave it?' Charli snorted mentally at her thoughts 'Leave? That's all I've ever done, all mom and I ever did, one place to another, and yet she was my roots, and now with her gone... I'm tired of lone wolf productions...or is it just tired, tired of hiding, tired of living, tired of wondering how someone is going to react when they find out what I am.' She shighed softly hiding it behind the downing of the last bit of tea.

"Ready to roll?" She stood and fished an business card sized slab of translucent plastic from her pocket, roughtly twice the thickness of a quarter. Darren caught a momentary glimpse of golden circuitry buried within. Charli pressed her left thumb against an ever so slightly section then handed it to their waitress as she passed by. The waitress's eyes went round and she gasped out an astonished thank you as Charli and Darren left. She had been handed a hundred decan chip.

Charli kinda blushed and looked at Darren as they stepped out into the parking lot and headed for the Phoenix. "Yeah, I way over tip, but I've been a waitress, the job is harder than it looks "

"You going to feel safe with Nancy and Tony at the hotel? They have rooms on either side of you and the rooms across the hall are others from protective services I've been told." Charli looked at Darren as she wheeled the car out of the lot and back on to the streets. It was early twilight and the city was lively as always. Offices and stores never closed, and there was just as much partying during the day as there was at night. Night was different however, the energy a whole 'nother vibe.

Darren listened intently as Charli described her recent life.

"Damn. Smoke jumping, racing, growing up in the wilderness. Shit, all I can do is type," he chuckled before taking a bitre of the pulled pork.

The meal continued on with little problem, and Darren nodded at the gracious tip. "I usually tip big too. Which is kinda wierd, people don't really tip all that much in Imitora. never really figured out why, its just the custom I guess." He shrugged, and followed Charli out to the car.

You going to feel safe with Nancy and Tony at the hotel? They have rooms on either side of you and the rooms across the hall are others from protective services I've been told.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. If a team tries to take me down, it would most likely be long range. Don't wanna make a big scene of things, and this way would be easier to escape. I'll make sure to keep the blinds closed and sleep on the bed on the far side of the room. That should keep me good for now."

That should keep me good for now."

Charli nodded, he sounded prudently cautious. Her Tag chirupped as she turned into the tunnel that would lead to the hotel's underground parking. A light flick of a button and the message from Lord Kincannon played in her ear.

Parking close to the elevator she smiled at Darren. "Hey, Sinjin wants to see you first thing in the morning, and for him thats breakfast about sevinish. You up for being up that early?" The engine shurt down and the gull wings flowed upwards. Charli and Darren stepped out, Charli having made a careful sweep of the well kept garage with it's decoration of fine vehicles. A card key activated the elevators and they were quickly whisked up to Darrens floor.

"Here" She offered him the card key. "It's a master over ride. If you have to get into any door in the hotel or the lot, use it. Just don't turn cat burgular on me" She grinned at him so he would know she was kidding.

Nancy and Tony checked to see who had arrived, as did other agents whom they quickly introduced to Darren.

Darren nodded a greeting to his protective detail. He added a sort of thanks to each, and turned back to Charli.

"Seven is no problem. Just meet him down here in the lobby?"

After recieving her response, he made his way back up to his room, locking it as tight as one could, and closed the blinds. He stripped to his boxers, and collapsed into bed. It took only moments for him to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
__

It was two in the morning when the alarm jolted Selvin out of bed. Ryan was already up and dressed, stuffing goods into a duffle bag. Ryan was dressed casually, a pari of loose fitting jeans under a white shirt, and good running shoes. An IWB holster held a Kimber Custom II he had picked up off one of the embassy gaurds, and a Emerson CQB7 was resting in his pocket.

"Damn son, you get your shit done quick."

Noting that Selvin was awake, Ryan nodded, and keyed a button on a remote. "Little bit of warm up music," he joked, and Stevie Wonder's "Superstitious" began to play out of hidden speakers. Selvin nodded his head along with the beat, and slid out of bed, already dressed. His outfit was similar, and he checked the Sig to make sure it was in proper working order.

"So, we going back to the original plan of action?"

Ryan nodded. His duffle bag was packed to his liking, an MP5/10I, extra ammunition, a change of clothes, and other goods he felt needed for the operation. He also had the CheyTac .408 packed away, ready to go into Selvin's ride. "You're taking the 'Burb, and the rifle. Your still taking your prefered hotel, I got the main target," he said, refering to the hotel believed to be the resting ground for Darren. Little did he know that his first guess was a lucky one.

"Right. You got a bag packed for me?"

Ryan pointed over to the corner. "No cell phones. If you run into a problem, standard E&E, just get the hell out. If I don't see you at the meeting place at thirteen, then I'll know your out."

Selvin nodded. "Alright man, take care."

"Back at ya boy."

The two slipped silently out of the embassy, making thier way to their respective hotels. Ryan moved carefully, doubling back a number of times, taking back ways, cross routes, and the general "long way around" to get to his hotel. His watch read four in the morning, and the late party crowd of out of towners was making its way back. He slipped into a group of business men that all but screamed drunk Imitorans, and made his way into the open lobby, finding a good seat that would give him an open view of everyone walking through, but keep him generally out of sight.

Relaxing into the chair, he adjusted his position to keep himself comfortable but ready to move quickly, and started his watch. He waved away a lobby waiter, saying he was just waiting for someone, and would ask if he needed help. All that was left to do was wait.

"I'll come knock you up just before seven, and walk you down to him. Breakfast will be out in the pavillion in the rear gardens. Very secure, very private and his chef does a wonderful breakfast." Charli replied and watched him head into his room. She had revcieved the high sign from Nancy and Tony that it had already been checked.

She was tired and unexpectedly depressed so she headed to her current residence. 'I can't even call it a home. Home is where the heart is and that's not anywhere. Mom, why didn't you ever teach me how to deal with that. I don't mind being alone, but this is different.'

A long soaking bath did little to raise her spirits, so accompanied by a nightcap of coffee, blonde with real cream and sinfully sweet with sugar, Charli retired with a book. Her collection was extensive, but if she decided to move on she do what she'd always done, donate them to charity. She travelled light. She finished the book at about her usual speed and by midnight was sound asleep.

Five thirty and she woke without needing an alarm. She slipped into a tee, running shorts, and her old Puma sneakers, but packed a more formal outfit for later.

Arriving back at the hotel Charli parked in the underground garage, and useing yet another master card key, rode the elevator up to a random floor,. Then she took a flight of stairs down two levels and rode another elevator to the lobby. Discretely she checked out the lobby, noting all those present, as she headed out, ostensibly just another guest out for a morning run. The vast majority of Tanaarans were fanatic about their health and morning, noon, and evening joggers were common. There were even clubs that held group runs at midnight.

With her long auburn hair pulled into a high pony tail and obviously packing no weapon she looked just out of place enought to be a guest from out of the country, in part because most Tanaarans were always armed, perhaps very discretely but still armed. Charli also did not move 'military' which most gtanaarans her age still did to some extent, since they would not have been that far time wise from their military service. Federal service was mandatory for citizens, and service in the military was the most popular option for the mandatory service. Charli moved with agility born of years spent moving across rough, uneven and often trecherous terrain. That and her attractive appearance - the shorts emphasized her long legs - drew the eyes of most and kept them following her as she trotted out of the spacious but cozily decorated lobby.

The wait was always the worst part of counter terror operations. Ryan had been sitting for over an hour, and he had seen nothing that registered suspicious in his book. The military gait he had noticed from many had been expected, but not all carried it. Some of the Tanaarans and others he noted had been packing, others not. More people were leaving than comming in, that was to be expected. He gave a special eye to the joggers, but few, if any, did anything but jog away.

It was sometime between six and seven, more towards the later, when he noticed someone different. A brunette, and an attractive one at that, moved through the lobby in a gracefull manner that Ryan hadn't seen in most any Tanaarans or the obvious tourists moving through the lobby. She wasn't armed, but there was more to it than that. It was an aura she gave off, as if by not being armed, she was giving something away. Mentally, he memorized her image. More than just in the case he happened to see her with the mark, her image would give him something to shoot for next time he put himself on the market.

He was carefull not to observe her too long, lest she have the familar "being watched" feeling. Feeling he had a sufficient look at her, he made a small mark from an equally small pencil on a pad next to him. He stood, made his way over to the news shop, and purchased a local newspaper, and began flipping through the stories as a sort of cover. He moved the note pad onto his lap, where he would be more easily able to make note of those he felt might be targets. Next to the mark, he glanced casually at the Omega watch, and marked down the time. Then, it was back to observing.
__

The natural need to get up early for work shook Darren from a sleep. It was not a peacefull sleep, nor restless. It had just been sleep. Nothing more. It was, luckily enough, the kind of sleep that was deep and leading towards a restfull waking. He quickly showered, and dressed in a spare set of clothes, and was reaching for the door just as Charli knocked.

He opened it with a smile and "good morning", and stepped out into the hall.

"So, I made it two nights, lets shoot for a third, and see how we do."

His tone of voice was light and easy. Making through the second night sans harm was a relief. He had expected the attack to come sometime in the second 24 hour period, where the Imitoran government would be able to put a cap on the leak fast, before giving off any information to any local sources. Get a handle on the problem fast, and get the target out of the way. Damage control would be easy enough to handle after Darren was dead.

He followed Charli out of the hallway and towards the elevator. He tried to remeber the name of the man he was meeting for breakfast, Shin or Jin or Jhin. Sinjin. That was it.

"So, this guy I'm meeting. Who really is he?"

The mornings jog had resrtored some of her good spirits and Charli greeted Darren with a smile that matched his and agreed that going for three was 'a plan'.

"Who's he really? He's one of the six most powerful people in Tanaara. He and his three cohorts are often called 'the Queen's Four Horsemen'. Tanaara is confuseing to me, I grew up with American style democracy, and I don't understand all the nuances of politics and power here, and I doubt if I ever will. He's a good friend, loyal to Tanaara, loyal to the death to the Queen. He and the others are her closest confidants, and her bodyguards, and have the ability to speak as "if they were she"."

Charli shook her head as the elevator opened to let the out on the ground floor, half laughing "Just trust me, he"ll get your stuff directly to her." She reached out and once again took his hand. Nothing had stood out during her earlier sweeps through the lobby, but there were still non employees there that had been there at the start of her run. The back of her neck itched ever so slightly, but she wondered if she wasn't being too paranoid. 'It might well be Sinjin's security.

He didn't often allow such, but with the Queen being out of the country she might have insisted that he bow to operational security.

"This way, Darren" She turned him towards the back of the lobby, heading for the wide, frosted glass french doors that led out to the hotels extensive rear gardens.

Darren followed faithfully, almost like a puppy, lost in his new surroundings. However, his look belayed no concern, nor did he feel any, even when meeting with someone considered this well powered.

He followed her out of the lobby, unaware that one of those sent to take him out, one he felt so safe from, was in the lobby, waiting for him. However, he would luckily escape capture this time.

He followed Charli out through rear doors, and paused at the hotel gardens. "Nice," he said, somewhat amazed by the set up. He had always thought the hotel he picked as a sort of budget place based on price, somewhere that the mid level businessmen would stay, not the big names. While he was sure some of the other locals would have even better, this was good for him. He, like many Imitoran's grew up with a different idea of nature and the outdoors. It wasn't something you enjoyed, it was something you used to further a specific cause.
__

Ryan was watching the front doors when Charli and Darren made their way into the lobby. A small commotion, some very late arriving drunks, and started up towards the front, and he felt it a decent cover for someone to slip in unnoticed. However, it had been nothing, and as the hour clicked up to, and passed seven, he was starting to doubt the effectiveness of his plan.

It had been based purely on luck and chance, and with good reason. In a nation as large as Tanaara, and a city as large as Montgard, sending two shooters to stake out the entirity of the area and catch a single man was, in effect, pointless. A failure waiting to happen. It was as if he and Selvin had been set up for the op, designed to fail in a resulting capture. To make it worse, there was the fact the Tanaarans hadn't been willing to let the two in.

He had no moral qualms with it. His first operation as a Detachment shooter had been in South Imitora, supressing what many would consider the legitimate and true government so that the Imitoran administration could set up one more favorable to itself. Still, it would just make life difficult. Even if Imitora did adhere to rules of war, Ryan wasn't uniformed, not a memeber of an official combat group, and conducting operations outside the limits of war. Operations that any international court outside of Imitora would most likely find illegal.

He sighed, and was tempted to let his mind drift back home, thinking about his newest purchase, a 2LZ C6 Corvette Z06. Or maybe the Kawasaki ZX-6RR that was about to be replaced with an MV F4i. But he didn't. The thought of the sports car and bike never entered his mind, and instead he continued to watch, flipping the page in the newspaper, pretending to care about local movie reviews.

Charli smiled at Darrens response to the rear gardens. She thoroughly appreciated the Tanaarans approach to nature. She and her mother had spent the greater portion of her youth in the wilder places of the world - Beliz's mosquito coast, under the big sky of Wyoming, in back lands of Borneo and Thialand with their temple ruins burried under the engulfing jungle, but mostly the bush country of Alasaka and Canada. She'd grown up wiith unbridled expanses of green and despised those who didn't understand stewardship of the land.

The pavillion was simple, the gardens air tinged with the scent of roses and evergreen underlining the mouthwatering scents of breakfast. Security was discretely absent, and Sinjin, Lord Kincannon stood as Charli and Darren approached along the winding tanbark pathway. With a smile he came to meet them, giving Charli a quick hug "Thanks for your help little sister" his tone fond, then turned to Darren.

"Darren, this is Sinjin, Sinjin a very brave man" Charli introduced them

"Yes you are Darren and I thank you whole heartedly." Curious dark eyes gave him a thorough but not unkind look over, his hand coming out for a handshake or hand clasp which ever Darren prefered. "Welcome to Tanaara, Darren. I hope you are finding things comfortable here?" His question was sincere. One of Sinjin's greatest gifts was his true concern for others. Unlike many with great power and position, he was honestly interested in every one he met, no matter what their background or status.

Yes you are Darren and I thank you whole heartedly. Welcome to Tanaara, Darren. I hope you are finding things comfortable here?

Darren nodded, giving Sinjin's hand a good, firm shake. "So far, I haven't been disappointed. Of course, I only wish I could visit on more amiable terms. Maybe with less concern I'm going to get shot?"

Darren followed Sinjin now, moving through the gardens towards what he assumed would be there breakfast table. This part would be of most interest to Darren, seeing what would be served. He had always been a light breakfast person, a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee while reading the technology section of the news paper had worked for him, and like most Imitorans, he made his way through the day not on three meals, but on three or four small ones, culminating in a feast of a dinner.

He also wondered personally about Sinjin's style, if it would be talk first, or straight to business. However, he would figure all that out when it came time to talk.

"And I'm not really that brave. Hell, I would consider myself lucky, if nothing else. The ICIA and INSA have been known to shoot down small aircraft leaving Northampton on suspicion alone."

"Yes I know" Sinjin said with a frown, his cheer leaving him slightly. "It speaks, or so it seems to me, very poorly of your government. That it does not value the people that it is supposed to serve." He shrugged but his eyes held more than a little anger. Then he snorted. "Well we've not bgeen perfect either, and I'd guess that some day your people will get tired of being used."

The side table held a small variety of breakfast foods; canadian bacon, crepes filled with chicken and mushrooms, waffles, sliced tomatoes, fresh berries, and three types of cold cereal. Coffee and tea steamed aromatically and there was both honey and sugar for sweetener as well as real cream and a tall pitcher of milk. Blood Orange juice and fresh pineapple juice filled tall carafes that sat with the milk and cream in a portable chiller. Hot and cold syrups were in small jugs by the warming tray that held the crepes and waffles. It had been set up for the three to serve themselves.

There were plates, bowls, silverware and crystal a simple but elegant pattern. The circular table was hidden beneath a table cloth of deep green cotton with wide border of braided ribbon in hues of soothing blue and the napkins matched.

"I know that most Imitorans don't breakfast heavily, but if there is something you prefer and you don't see it here, please don't hesitate to ask." Sinjin advised his smile returning as he began selecting a moderately sized meal. "Like Imitorans we eat a lot of small meals during our waking hours, but we revearse our largest meal. For us it's usually the first one after waking." He commented.

Charli had poured herself a small glass of pineapple juice and was sipping it appreciatively, but couldn't resist adding "When you bother to remember to eat. Khadri is always getting on you about being too skinny."

Sinjin chuckled. "I know, and now the doc is getting in on it too. But they're right I'm not ashamed to say." He pulled out a chair and sat, unfurling his napkin while watching Darren make his choices.

Darren picked his food quietly, settling on a few waffles, and topped them off with a good amount of syrup. He poured a glass of the orange juice, and made his way back over the table.

"I've never really been one to get into the whole eat this or don't eat this, loose this weight, but this is good wieght, or any of that. I'm one of those guys whose a fan of eating food I like, and if I gian wieght or loose weight? I'll deal."

He took a long pull from the glass of juice, and a bite out of one of the waffles. "Good stuff," he said after he swallowed. "Some Imitorans are big into breakfast, I know a guy who can't start his day off with out at least two omlettes and other stuff. Me, I like to sleep in. That limits me to a quick meal in the morning, and usually around eleven, I'll grab some cold pizza or something to hold me over for a bit."

"I envy you Darren. I have been able to sleep in for years." Sinjin grinned at the younger man "But I have to say that I did know what I was getting into when I pledged myself to Mercedez." He looked over at Charli who was piling the berries high into a bowl and caught her quizical look. "It's that uniquely Tanaaran thing. Mnhei'sahe."

Charlie shook her head "No that I understand better than most outsiders Sinjin, but I was wondering why you used her first name, you're not usually so informal around outsiders." She answered bluntly.

Sinjin looked at Darren as he made his answer. "Becasue I want Darren to understand that my relationship with the Tanaaran head of state, who is not just a figurehead, is more than just a working relationship. Mercedez Merrideath Hexx is a part of my family, my hearts blood, and I know her as I know myself."

"Darren, I know you know this already, but... Imitora is calling you a cyber criminal, some one who is seeking to harm not only the governmenental functions, but the persons those functions are bound about. I didn't believe it when they first said it, I have evidence that independantly verifies yours, and after hearing Daveeds judgement, I am fully ready to believe you and your truths far and above over theirs."

"You've risked your life, left everything you were familiar and comfortable with behind. Put yourself at risk and I can not say how admirable I find that, and how much my government and I, indeed all the people of Tanaara owe you Darren."

"I don't mean to embarrase you but it is the truth. I'd like to hear directly from you what you have that you feel so strongly about that would provoke all that has happened."

I'd like to hear directly from you what you have that you feel so strongly about that would provoke all that has happened.

Darren finished another bite of the waffle, and took one more pull on the juice.

"Well, ya remember the attempted coup not to long ago? The info I have says that the ICIA and INSA may have had a hand in it. Not suprised really. I mean, its what they do. They pump info to both sides and play the odds, I've seen it done before, hell, I've done work with it before. When we were in Aubania. The ICIA was giving both the government and the rebels info, and funnling weapons, money, equipment to both sides. I guess the big thing is playing odds like this with a supposed ally. Don't seem right or any of that."

He finished off his waffle, letting the information digest with Sinjin.

"There was something else on the info file too. Again, I guess it wasn't that suprising, when I think about what the ICIA does. Something about the Cat program, assasinations and such, being used against former agents. The name that stood out though was Fortier. I dunno why. Didn't you have a leader involved with him and such? Anyways, there was some other info in there, I really haven't gotten a good look at the stuff. It was the kinda think I thought you or your people would be much better off looking at. I can decode the info real easy, I just need to get to a good public computer."

Her back was to the two men as they sat at the table, they could not see her face. Charli's face went white, and the bowl of berries slipped from her fingers as she spun about. Her eyes were blazing, a lambent frighteneing green. Her lips worked, but no sound came from them for a moment as she struggled to speak.

Sinjin had sat bolt upright at the mention of Fortiers name in conjunction with assassination. He swallowed heavily. and then he spoke very carefully "Darren are you saying that Robert Francis Fortier was assassinated by the Imitoran." He never finished, as the sharp, nearly painful sound of crystal shattering drowned out his last word.

Then Charli was flashing past him and reaching for Darren, her body beginning to glow. But Sinjin was as fast and he was out of his seat as she moved past. His hands grabbed her, spun her about, one coming back then striking. The blow was perfect, catching Charli precisely on the temple and she began to drop. However the Tanaaran caught her and kept her from falling.

His voice rang out and from deeper in the gardens figures emerged moving at speed. They'd already been moving by the time he called for back up.

"Yeah, basically. Some ICIA operat..."

Darren was cut off by the sudden action. Before he could finish his sentance, the sight of Charli flying at him startling him. Before he could dodge on his own, Sinjin was up, and seconds later, the issue settled. As men began to move out of the garden, he looked around. There had to be more shooters, more watchers. He wondered breifly if Charli was the only one covering him, and assumed it so.

He pushed away from the table for a moment, and looked around. "Did I say something wrong?"

The figures, that had been concealed by the shadowed depths of the garden and the early morning shadows, resolved into three - two women and a man, all in nondescript, indistinct clothing.

Sinjin, shook his head at Darren's question as he settled Charli's limp body more comfortably in his arms, a hiss of pain as his seared hands protested. "No, Darren. Fortier was her friend, and ours, and the father of the Crown Prince Robert Ryan Fortier - Hexx." Then the three were there, the man taking Charli from Sinjin.

The taller of the two women, a dusky eyed blonde turned Sinjins hands palms up, her lips thinning as she took in the already blistering skin. "Dear, you need not to react so fast at times, though I know Charli will thank you when she comes round."

The other woman, who's glossy brunette hair was pulled back into a smooth french twist, began digging into a shoulder bag and bought out a compact but complete first aide kit. "Here Khadri, lets get his hands coated with the nanobandage. Kazuma, you might as well lay her down on the floor. I think Sinjin had to rap her rather hard, and she might well be out for more than just a minute or two."

Sinjin held out his hands and his consort sprayed them liberally with a substance that started as translucently blue but within several minutes would become flesh hued and like- hiding the burns. And the burns, as bad as they were, would be healed by the next morning.

"I think she'd appreciate this more" Kazuma Shimada, the man who had taken charge of Charli, was obviously of oriental heritage. He eased her into her chair, making sure she was not going to sag out of it before grabbing a napkin and soaking it in the icewater filled chiller close at hand. He began wioing her face with it. "Come on Charli, such idiotcy is not like you." He murmured as he looked for signs of her coming to herself.

Darren nodded. He watched in amazement as the team went to work, with the medicine. The spray was the most amazing to him, something he would need to find out more about. The speed which the team moved was also impressive, something that would definately give the Imitoran team comming after him, if one was, a run for their money.

He watched as another went to work, fixing up Charli. "I would think a stiff drink would be nice," he offered, somewhat humerously.

Still, the event showed the sophistication, power, and ability of the Tanaaran protective duty was reassuring.

Sinjin chucklede and nodded at Darrens comment. "I agree with you. Khadri, Robyn, Kazuma, this is Darren Winston. Darren, this is my consort Lady Khadri. Kazuman Shimada and his wife Robyn. The four of us are wed Di Catenas." He introduced the other Three Horsemen, but made no effort to explain exactly what the term ment. The other three all nodded in friendly fashion as they continuded their activities.

Kazuma grinned tightly as Charli stirred. "Her head is a hard one" He commented to Sinjin as he laid the sodden napkin aside.

Robin had grabbed a couple of napkins and with a couple of effecient swiped made sure the shards of crystal bowl and the scattered berries were dealt with while Khadri spoke subvocally over an implanted commo chip and requested that a protable bar be brought up.

"Drinks coming right up. And Mr. Winston you mentioned a good computer. Would a private one linked to the public web do?" She inquire.

None had said anything more about Robert Fortier. That was something all four wished to digest and discuss in prvate.

Darren greeted each with a return nod, polite and warm. "Pleasure's all mine," he said, watching each in action. They moved quickly and efficiently, something he wasn't used to. In the ICIA, maybe in the covert operations center they could move like this, but in his devision, ninety percent of the time, they just lounged around, ate pizza, and watched TV.

Drinks coming right up. And Mr. Winston you mentioned a good computer. Would a private one linked to the public web do?

"Well, I guess it would, but I'd need to get a serious look at it first. I was thinking of using the one back in the cyber café I met the agents at yesterday. The one I used was up to spec, and it could access all the info I needed to get access too. I think it might be easier for a public computer, the net firewalls would be more accepting to an out of nation computer line if it was registered as public."

Darren unerstood the ideaology of getting him in private, it would keep him out of sight of any shooters. It would work, but he was looking for speed, and cleanliness. He wanted to be able to erase the computer he worked at fast, and a public computer would allow that. The flash drive would have a clean sweep program on it, all of the ones he used did. One never could be too carefull when dealing with computer hacking.

A pair of silent men who's demeanors whispered high level security entered the garden each with a pair of large cases in hand. They were met by Kazuma who passed along sotto voiced orders. Kazuma strode back into the pavillion, the men following. They set the cases among the remains of the breakfast buffet.

Charli groaned "I think I hit a headache and it hit back" She whispered between gritted teeth. "Sorry guys." She hung her head for a moment and then looked worriedly at Darren "Oh good I didn't hurt you."

"Got Sinjin though" Khadri informed her drily.

Charli blushed bright red as she looked around at Lord Kincannon who held up his hands for her to see. "Oh shit I did? Damn Sinjin I'm sorry...." and her head whipped back around to look at Darren.

"And he hasn't run screaming?"

"Nope but he does want a dtink." Kazuma turned to Darren. "name your neurotoxsin of choice" He stepped aside to allow Darren to see that the large cases were thoroughly stocked with a huge variety of alcohol in miniature bottles alongt with a variety of mixers. The two men who'd brought them silently packed up the breakfast items into wheeled cases that had been tucked under the table and rolled them away.

Darren nodded. "I've seen stranger," he replied to Charli's comment. "And don't worry, I'm fine."

He looked at the breakfast bar that just sprung up, the venerable cornocopia of morning booze, and smiled. "Well, its gotta be five pm somewhere," he chuckled.

"I'll take a Bloody Mary, and when do you guys wanna get started?"

"If you are more comfortable over at the internet cafe then that's were we'll take you. Your comfort is the least we can see to." Kazum did the bar tending, making and handing Darren as wickedly tangy Bloody Mary, then the same for the others, save for Charli.

Charli seemed a little flustered by Darren's easy acceptance of her. She'd grown used to it in Tanaara. However, from outsiders, especially ones who learned about her in a 'non comfortable situation', didn't generally react well.

Khadri did run a medical scanner over Charli and nodded at the readings. "They fall in the ranges I was taught, but these are almost too close to majick for comfort. If the headache gets worse, say something, don't try and tough it out."

Charli nodded and accepted a plain tomato juice from Kazuma. "And damn it stop guilt tripping yourself. You didn't get him killed." He groused, an obviously old arguement.

Charli just looked mulish, her eyes focused inward on a memory.

"She refuses to accept that she didn't get Fortier killed, " Kazuma resumed and would have said more but his wife laid a gentle hand on his arm and shook her head minutely, hushing him. He sighed and took a long swallo of his own drink.

"We'll go round the long way and meet you in the cafe." Sinjin stood, setting his most finished glass aside. "If we went over together it would attract too much attention."

"I'll take Darren over...if you still trust me to keep you safe?" Charli looked at Darren.

Darren followed the conversation with interest, observing the dynamic as well. Appearently, Charli wasn't used to being delt with easily enough as he had. But he had seen his own strange happenings, his own "failures in the code" if one could describe them as such, and it hardly phased him. If nothing else, her ability that had just been displayed was more so reassuring.

I'll take Darren over. If you still trust me to keep you safe?

"Of course," he replied, finishing off his drink. He placed the glass down carefully, and tugged the Flashdrive out his pocket, looking at it. "Kinda funny. Something this small could cause trouble so big."

He lead Charli out of the meetin area, and back towards the lobby.
_

Ryan checked the Omega watch one last time. It was nearing eight, and he wanted to take a survey of the area before leaving to walk to his meeting spot with Selvin. It would only take a slight hour for the walk, maybe an hour and a half for all the twists and turns he would need to take to loose a tail, but a good look around was more important. He picked up the duffle next to him, and went to deposit it somewhere safe for hiding.

Walking briskly, but bringing no attention to himself, he made his way into the bathroom, and began to look around. It was empty, and he thanked god for little favors. However, the duffle was to big to simply hide in one of the stalls, and he would need to get creative. Short of simply disasembling the sub gun, and scattering the clothes into hiding spots, he noticed his lucky charm: an air duct. Quickly, he popped it open, and slid it into the opening, closing the duct discretely. The duct, low on the floor under the sink, would keep the gear hidden well, but easily accesable. He pushed away from the sink, washed his hands as cover, and moved towards the door.
__

"So really," Darren continued, explaining the program he had designed, "its nothing more than a fancy puzzle completer. It finds the pieces that matches, plugs them together, and bingo, it comes out a full word file. Kinda like a reverse shredder."

Darren was obviously proud of his program. One could hear it in his voice. "Anyways, it got me a bunch of job offers, and I thought, well, I'm not the military type, so I might as well find a way to use what skills I have in service for a bit, so went ICIA. Wasn't really in it for the long haul, was thinking, maybe five or six years, then develop another program, sell it on the private sector, write my memoirs, and retire by 35. Guess the best laid plans and all."

As they passed by the bathroom, Darren's attention was drawn away from the task of walking. He didn't notice the man slide out of the bathroom, but did when he was bumped into. Besides the slight 'oof', there was little fanfare from Darren.

"Sorry bro," the other man replied, his head half turned, but not really to make eye contact. He kept walking on.

"Nice guy," Darren said, sincerly. "Most people in Imitora would tell me to 'watch the fuck out'."

The walk out of the lobby, and across the square, was continuelly uneventfull.
___

Ryan put on his best poker face, hiding his smile. Well fuck me, he thought to himself. The man he just bumped into was a perfect match for the target, Darren. His tour of the surrounding area would be cut short, he needed to mark the meeting zone for Selvin.
____

Darren and Charli entered the cafe, and took their seats. He simply ordered water, and let Charli place her order, before he began looking for a good terminal.

"Now, you don't mind waiting? This could take a few hours."

Charli listened interestedly as they walked, but not with her full attention. She had no intent of being sloppy, not after her disgraceful actions in the gardens. Computers weren't really her thing but she could appreciate some one who could make them sit up and dance.

When some one bumped into Darren she took his hand and made sure he was okay with a swift once over, then her eyes were tracking the man who'd bumped Darren. She wished she coulkd have gotten a good look at his face, but he had kept it mostly averted. However she watched him move off memorizing form and movement, which could be better memory cues than any face.

"They're naturally polite here, courtesy seems to be inherited." Che chuckled "Or maybe it's cause dueling is legal, as if nudity."

A group of five ladies, average age maybe thirty years, were headed out the hotels front door, some yards ahead of them. None wearing more than wide brimmed sun hats. All were well above average looks and all were in excellent shape.

Shortly after they had made themselves comfortable Sinjin and the others entered, coming in through the cafe's rear patio doors, which had been thrown wide to let in the perfect weather. They didn't join Darren and Charli but took seats at two different tables not too far from the one that Darren had chosen.

"No I don't m,ind waiting. Sitting back and taking a relaxation break is one of the most practised art form here in Tanaara from what I've seen.. If you can listen and work at the same time I'll explain why I lost it back there. It's not an excuse, just the reason." Charli offered after exchanging small nods wi Sinjin and the others.

No I don't mind waiting. Sitting back and taking a relaxation break is one of the most practised art form here in Tanaara from what I've seen. If you can listen and work at the same time I'll explain why I lost it back there. It's not an excuse, just the reason.

"Hmmph," Darren smiled. "No such thing as relaxation in Imitora. Its always go go go. Normally I listen to an iPod when I work, just pupm in some PvD or Oakenfold and go to work. However, if your game, I can listen. I usually need some sort of outside distraction when I work. Helps me focus in that wierd sorta way."

As he explained, his hands began dancing over the key board of his selected computer. Within minutes the website for The University of Imitora's Alumni Association page poped up. A few seconds later, and he was logged in as a programer making updates to the page. He scrolled through the code, looking for the proper lines. Hidden in the Alumni news page, somewhere, was a portion of the program he was looking for. He had it hidden an numerous pages, and sometimes the same code would be replicated in a number of places, for redundant protection.
__

Ryan made his way out of the hotel, and took a long, leisurely walk to the coffee shop that he and Selvin had picked up as their drop point. However, upon finally reaching his destination, he didn't enter, but instead picked a very specific bench across from the shop. Leaning back, he flicked the Oakley's out of his pocket, and just sat for a spell, letting himself rest for a few moments.

Checking the Omega watch, he still had about an hour till Selvin would come in. They would exchange a few phrases that to anyone else would seem a simple conversation, initating their meet. Then, depending on the specific drink selected inside the coffee bar, again a preselected set of code, they would again split their seperate ways. To even the more than casual observer, it would appear as nothing more than a simple friendly meeting between to good friends, who were soon returning to where they worked from a break of sorts.

This was, as Ryan new, the most dangerous part of the operation. He had originally insisted on chalk markings for code, crushing a small piece of colored chalk or making a small mark here or there designed to initiate a converstaion, but Selvin had pointed out that Montgard seemed to be the type of city where even a small bit of chalk dust would set of alarms, or at least be errased.

And so he sat, people watched, and waited.

"In some places, and to some people, I'm an abomination that should be killed on sight, and to others I'm an aset to be used then discarded, or perhaps vivisected if they were being effecient and non wasteful. But that's not whats important." Charli shrugged. Her problems were just that her problems.

"Robert Fortier was my friend and thats not something I enter into lightly. And not that long ago I was doing a trouble shooter gig in Houston, up in the US. And who should turn up but Robert." Her voice was flat as she continued describing the attack on Cains. Her description was incredibly vivid, and Darren had the feeling that what Charli was seeing wasn't the pleasant interior of a Tanaaran internet cafe, but the flicker of fire light, sprays of blood, and bodies collapsed in the bonelessness of death. And one of them the friend who'd stayed to help strangers when he could have just left.

"I got Robert's body back to Imitora, stayed long enough for the funeral. The Queen and the Horsemen were there. I'd become friends with them even before I met Robert, and they offered me a place in Tanaara, away from Imperial Entanglements"

Although his look would not show it, Darren listened intently. While he never looked away from the computer, he heard every little detail, nodding at the appropriate points to let Charli know that he understood the situation. However, he had never been in combat, never been shot at besides the simumark rounds at the Ranch, and never had shot at anyone. His view, then, the image, was more or less of that of an action movie than an actuall shoot out, complete with music and everything.

"Sounded rough," he said, his hands dancing over a key bored as he copied text coding into a seperate interface loaded on the computer screen. "At this point, though, I'm glad you made it through. Else wise, well," at the thought of his own death, he grew quiet. "Ya know."

He continued to work intently, and by the time the first hour went by he had assembled most of the code he needed. A few more web hacks, and he'd have all the info he needed.
__

Selvin, dressed similarly to Ryan, slipped down onto the bench next to him. "Ya meet John this morning?"

"Yeah, he's doing good. He just sold off some of that major Toyota stock, made about fifty thou off of it. Shit though, he has some new girl toy, says she wont give him some space."

"Damn, thats what now?"

"First serious one. Want some Java."

Ryan and Selvin entered the coffee bar, ordered, and chated more. To any outsider, it was a casual information exchange about a meet and greet before a business deal. Then, after drinking their coffee, they shared some more info, and went their seperate ways. Selvin was going back to get the Suburban and his gear. Ryan would go back to make some reservations at the hotel. If all went according to plan, they would be back home in no more than three days.

"I'm glad that I made it out too. It's not survivors guilt though, I used all of that up long ago." Charli's eyes werre oddly serene, or perhaps they werre just empty. "I made sure that those who killed him were dead. If it turns out that your people had a hand in his death, I'll do the same for them." She sipped the tea she'd ordered and turned the conversation to other things.

"So you're not much into cars, you odd Imitoran you, and I don't know enough about computers to keep up with you, so what are your other interests?"


Elsewhere in the internet cafe, Sinjin and Khadri sat at a table reading the Tanaaran Intelligencer and sipping coffee with the comfortable companionship of a deeply bonded couple. Kazuma and Robyn, sitting in a booth, were also passing the time in a relaxed manner. They weren't obviouly close but any of them could get to the table Charli and Darren sat at in but a few strides, and could get a clear shot even more easily.

Darren nodded as he typed. "I like music alot. Mostly nu metal, stuff like Linkin Park, but ome trance too. I like the whole electronic infusion, just kinda works for me." Darren's hands moved expertly as he spoke, keeping his eyes glued to the monitor.

"And there is the money shot," he chimed after a few moments of silence. Plugging the flashdrive into the computer, he began to type again, this time copying and pasting what appeared to be shreaded code into a simple interface that looked much like an instant messenger window.

"This is gonna be the longest part. It needs to piece back together the shreaded information." He pushed away from the computer, locking the screen down, and walked back over to the table Charli sat at.

"Shouldn't be more than two or three hours. Ya know, I'm starting to like this place."

"Tanaara is addictive. Want some lunch? You've been typing steadily for some time now. OR would you like to stretch your legs? We can make sure that no one comes anywhere near that computer. Charli was used to being active for a good protion of each day, and while she could appreciate the Tanaaran custom of relaxation, she was feeling the need to stretch her legs.

"I love all sorts of music, but I don't care for a lot of the 'emo' stuff. It can be as self pityingly angst filled as the worst of the old country stuff could be - you know the 'truck dies, dog dies, woman ran off and the train ain't coming.' wailing. I'm more of a 70's and 80's rocker type. Mom listened to all sorts so I did too, but that was her favorite. Out in the bush though radio was often a toss up and tv? Not gonna happen."

"I'm good here," Darren responded, waving over a waitress. He ordered a tuna sandwhich. "I feel safe in here, like I don't have anything to worry about. If you need to go, go for it, I'm sure the others near by can help."

Darren was starting to settle in with Tanaara, and realizing it was somewhere he could learn to really like, enough to live in. He truely felt that the worse had passed, and that he would have some time to really settle in to the local culture shortly.
__

Ryan looked around the room, soundly satisfied of the lay out and set up. He had reserved the room upon returning to the hotel, requesting one that faced the same cardinal direction that the cafe lay from the hotel. It was better for his chi, he had told the counter clerk. Choosing to leave his escape duffle down in the bathroom, he opened the blinds and curtains to the window, and looked out the the square.

He was satisified thus far. If the day remained clear, he may very well have been willing to take the shot as soon as Selvin arrived. But that would have to wait for Selvin to arrive. The other Detachment shooter was on his way with the rifle, and other assorted gear for the operation. Content with the results seen thus far, Ryan collapsed onto the bed, and allowed his mind, and body, to rest for a good spell.

"Okay, thanks, I'm going to take a few turns around the square, since the others are here." Charli stood and as she passed Sinjin gave him a quick discrete wortd that she'd be back in a few.

The day was lovely with perfect weather, and a group of children, ages eight or so, had come to the squares center park to have class out doors. They were running about for the moment while the teacher and her aides set out brightly coloured blanket and pitchers of pink lemonade. Charli shook her head, she'd never been very enamored with kids and these wree being especially noisy. "I'll keep the walk to twice round" she muttered to herself.

However the children came quickly to the teachers call and with the noise under control Charli decided to walk once more around before returning to the cafe. She wondered if she could convince Darren to take the Beanstalk up to the Habitat tonight. She thougtht he'd enjoy it, and he might also enjoy flying. 'Charli Firewalker are you thinking about a date?' She chided herself 'He's a nice guy, but no not a date. Not that dating is something I do much of anyway.' She sighed as she realized just how few dates she'd ever had in her life. Shrugging regretfully, she shoved those thoughts away as she headed back inside the cyber cafe, and ordered a large ceaser salad.

As Charli walked and Darren relaxed, Ryan worked. Moments after Charli had gone for her walk, Selvin arrived, and he and Ryan began setting up for the operation. First came the basics. they moved a small table towards the window, setting up a shooting platform, and unrolled a pair of shooter mats. Selvin began setting up communication equipment, a direct link set up ran through secure satalites, dumping the information back to a drop site located in Imitora. For plausible denyability, neither knew the actuall location.

Then came sighting equipment. A spoter scope with an NV filter if the shot was to be taken a night, lined up along a specific setting that would allow Selvin to follow the shot perfectly. The room gave them a wide veiw of the cafe, and Selvin allowed a small smile as he peered through the scope. "Damn, thats luck at its finest." Selvin watched on as Darren munched his sandwhich, drinking the dark black coffee.

Ryan chuckled a 'yea' and went to unpacking his tool for the work at hand. The CheyTac Intervention rifle came out of the duffle with ease, and Ryan worked the bolt in, preparing the rifle. The scope was mounted, and he used a small, handheld device to bore sight the rifle. Setting it down beside the spotting scope, Ryan dropped onto the table, and began to survey the cafe from his perch. "Its almost to easy," he said.
__

Darren sat queitly in the net cafe, finishing his lunch, and reading through a computer magazine he had found. He smiled as Charli entered, and he looked up as she sat. "Good walk?" he asked, looking out the window. He was overcome with the feeling that he was being watched, all of the sudden. Not in a protective sense, but as if someone was surveying him, stalking him.

He shook the thought away. "I should probably start going on walks and such, get back into something resembling shape." Darren was slender, but not really in any form of good shape. While he wasn't heavy set or overwieght, he wasn't often physically active, relying more on a fast metabolism to burn off any food he ate.

Before anything else could be said, the computer behind him 'dinged', and he quickly spun, moving towards the computer. "Its almost done," he said, excitedly. He unlocked the computer, and set to typing.

Charli started to get up but just as she pushed her chair back the waiter arrived with her salad, and began inquiring if she wanted croutons, fresh ground pepper and the like. She didn't notice any one paying unusual attention to Darren, no one new had come into the cafe at all in the last hour or so anyways.

"Thats great Darren" She replied once the waiter had done ministering to her salad and departed. Then her eyes widened at the sight of a tall, well dressed teenager entering their section and heading towards Sinjin and Khadri. "Oh great!' She groaned in a whisper.

The security detail that had followed the crown prince into the cafe fanned out and drew peoples eyes. People began to whipser as they recognised the Prince and some - they had to be tourists - stood and raised cameras.

A message waited for Darren.

Rob noticed Charli, he'd met her at the advanced tactical driver training courses that he'd taken. She'd taught a class or two in the finer points of driving in mountainous terrain but claimed not to be an expert. He had mentally snorted at the bit of over modesty, any one whom the fearsome foursome had teaching at the school was maybe not the best at what they taught but they were the best at teaching it to others. And he was already wise enough to know that teaching it was far harder than merely doing it. He had listened closely when she had spoken. It hadn't hurt that she was not only frighteningly competent, utterly fearless and easy on the eyes. Her, to his ears, exotic accent had definitely helped keep his attention.

However there was a space around her, a carefully maintained distance that kept the eighteen year old Crown Prince from trying to get to know her better. The fact that she was over ten years older was another factor. He wasn't bothered by the age difference but was just unsure enough to wonder if she might not see him as a 'just a kid'. So he confined himself to giving her a friendly half wave and nod as he wended his way though the cafe to where Sinjin and Khadri sat.

Rob Ryan sighed inwardly at the small stir his arrival had caused. The vast majority of Tanaarans would have looked up, nodded in friendly fashion and kept to themselves, unless he made the first move. However there were always those who made much of his presence, and he knew that his formal installment as Crown Prince earlier in the year hadn't helped. He knew though that his security detatchment would unobtrousively keep the gawkers at a distance.

At first he'd been rebellious, and that had been the sole reason he tolerated the required security detachment. But that hadn't lasted long - they had all become more than good friends. Theymight as professionals bewilling to take a bullet for their primary - they'd die for Rob. They often helped him sneak out of the Palace when "teenage crazies', as they laughingly put it, became unbearable. The fact that they were the best of the best,terminally lethal and had been teaching Rob Ryan to be that himself just cemented the bond. Insiders called them 'Rob's wolf pack'. That had delighted the fierce young men and women and they'd taken to calling themselves the Brotherhood of the Wolf when being formal, or just 'the Pack' among themselves.

Rober Ryan Fortier Hexx was unassuming, smart, loyal, passionate, warm hearted, trustworthy, honorable, curious as a cat, courageous and dedicated to becoming the best her could be - he threw himself completely into every endeavor he undertook and was honestly concerned for others. He wouldn't hesitate to risk himself for others - just last winter when an avalanvce had swept down the slopes - slopes filled with vacationing families, himself and his 'little sister' Melody Kincannon incognito among them -he'd put himself at extreme risk to help in the rescue those of his men and many others who'd been caught in the massive snow slide. If he hadn't been Mercy's son, he'd have been awarded the Monarch's Thanks for what he'd done.- that is what was said by those who discussed such things. Privately Rob had told his mother to not even think of offering the honourto him, for he would have have refused. "Mother, if I am to rule Tanaara some day I have to be willing to risk myself for our people - to serve our people and what I did was not heroics, but serving them. Besides Jon had to bear the headache of watching out over me And digging for those trapped. I just dug. He deserves it more than I do."

Ryan let out a slow breath as he lowered his eye to the rifle scope. With a hard, harsh movement, he racked the bolt on the CheyTac, the .408 Intervention round settling into the chamber properly, and the bolt locking down with a sound click.

He squirmed for half a second, positioning himself comfortably down on the table. He, like most detachment shooters, cared little for the conept of form and looked more for comfort. The former may allow a more accurate shot at longer ranges, but the later would allow him to observe the target for a longer period of time.

Selvin did the same, lining the spotter scope up with the barrel, allowing him to watch the shot in, follow the round from trigger pull to impact, and call the hit. After setting up the comm set by nothing other than feel, he let the crosshair of the scope settle on the table where Darren and Charli sat.

"Green, green, gre, yellow, red."

The color was the ability of the shot to be taken. He would call three greens, signaling a perfect shot, and then Ryan would fire. Yellow meant it was one hundred percent up to Ryan's discretion if he wanted to pull the trigger. Red obviously meant no shot. He had gone yellow when Darren stood, and red when he disapeared from the table, the angle to shallow to allow Ryan an aim at the computer.

"Right," Ryan responded, pulled an iPod out of his pocket. His eye and shooting hand never left the rifle. Plugging a single ear piece in, and operating by feel, he clicked on a mix playlist. It was at that point when the cafe flooded with seemed to be a security team, and someone entered who looked important.

"Fuck. That'll make things complicated," Ryan swore. He hated security teams, they always had a habit of being far too professional to make mistakes, but enough of an amature to act unpredictably. Ninety percent of the security teams Ryan had engaged in combat at this point had just been dangerous enough to keep his teams' head down, but usually ended up killing innocents instead.

"Its the prince," Selvin chimed in.

"Fucking royalty. Figures. Well, we wait till he exfills, then take that shot most ricky tic. Savvy?"

Selvin nodded.

Ryan tugged the rifle into his shoulder a bit more tightly, and began to sing along with the music on the iPod. "Smell like a sound, I'm lost in a crowd, and I'm hungry like the wolf..."
__

Darren made no move to stand, or even turn and look as Rob Ryan entered. His eyes were fixated on working the computer program at hand. Most of the information had been decoded and put back together, now was the really hard part. Getting it out. It still was looking like a random jumble of numbers, letters, and the like. There was no code key on the flashdrive or inside the program, it was all in his head. He was simply accessing the code that was inhereint in the wording.

Within minutes, he had decoded the information, and it was in the process of sending the info to a networked printer in the cafe. He jumped to his feet, and ran out into the back kitchen of the cafe, and over to a networked printer that mostly popped out recipets, menu changes, and orders. He nodded at a waitress, and then began digging through the numerous print outs.

He grabbed the one he was looking for, said something that sounded like "yoink", and walked back out to the table where Charli sat, and ploped down into his seat.

"Tell me I'm good," he smirked, holding up the print outs in his hand. The papers, about thirty pages worth, were folded in half, and he held them up proudly.

Charli smiled at Darren' exuberance then laughed softly as he held the papers up. "You're a wizzard and now you're safer now than ever before. No only are the Hrsemen here but their best students have just rolled in." She'd calmed down a little when she's seen that most of the patrons had stayed calm and went about their day as if nogthing unusual was happening. She hadn't been in Tanaara long enough to get over a kind of reflexive ' celebrity enters, madhouse ensues' dread.

She took a look over where Sinjin, Khadri and Rob Ryan were looking their way and nodded slightly. Instantly Sinjin and Khadri were on their feet and headed over to them, with Rob a few steps behind, a questioning look on his face. Kazuma and Robyn stayed in the booth they'd taken and kept a weather eye out, exchanging tiny nods with Rob Ryan's detail.

One of the Pack moved past where Charli and Darren sat, heading directly for the french doors that Ryan and Selvin were observing the interior of the cafe though. Something was making the hairs on the backs of his neck stand up. He, like all of the security detail were far more than just a protection detail. All of them had spent time as hunters, the better to protect against such. To win against one you had to be one, was their motto and they took it very seriously. Winning was not just keeping your principle alive.

When Sinjin and Khadri arrived at the table Sinjin looked at the papers and grinned tightly at Darren. "You still want to do the right thing? "Cause I'd like you to meet one of the people who's lives you'd be affecting." He looked over at the still more than slightly mystified Robert. "Rob, This is a very good man, Darren Winston from Imitora. Darren, this is Robert Ryan Fortier - Hexx."

Darren nodded at the prince. The name to some might ring a bell, but not to him, he hardly ever followed the politics of other nations, feeling them none of his business. Instead, he offered a polite "pleasure's mine," and began to leaf through the sheaf of papers. "This is some good stuff, its got everything I was telling you about earlier."

He flipped through happily, but someone watching would notice his return to a few pages towards the center of the sheaf numerous times. His look of joy became a look of sudden anger, then despair.

"This can't be right," he muttered, looking at a number of pages. His smile of pride and victory vanished, and he looked as if he were to cry. He looked up with eyes almost begging for mercy. "I swear, I ran the program right. The info was there last time I checked."
__

Ryan swore. "Why won't that chick just get out of the way."

Selvin shrugged. Darren had returned to the table, but Charli was blocking their view, and Selvin continued to offer yellow for a call. "I say we just blow her away too. If the round doesn't over pen, then we can just sling him with another round, and peace out."

"No, to much commotion. Those security gaurds will most likely pounce on Dimple or Derick or what ever his name is, and get in the way. We'll end up fighting our way out, and with only two MP5/10Is and our sidearms, it wont be pretty."

"Man, your going soft. Just pig the bitch."

"It has nothing to do with being soft. Its being smart. Unless you happen to know of a Combat Controller hanging around and a gunship that we can just call in to blast the cafe, we have to stay smart."
__

Darren laid out the information infront of them, unrolling every page, all face up. "I swear to god, the info about the coup and all that was here. It was."

All the information was there, well, most of it. The assasination teams used against ICIA agents, using connections to take Fortier out for a reason listed only as 'reciprocity', the use of CAT teams against foreign dignitaries, and the like. But any information to be found about the ICIA support of the coup was blank. Five pages, to be exact, out of thirty five, were blank.

He quickly spun back to the computer, and clicked to the missing pages. On the screen, it was the same thing: blank white space.

"I swear, it was all here," he pleaded.

"If it was accessed over our web, then the A.I. has it in some form or fashion." Sinjin frowned and moved to seat himself at the computer Darren had been useing. "Khadri take charge of those papers please. Darren I do believe you. We all do, but I want proof positive to shove in Imitora's face." He also didn't want Rob to get his hands on what it said about his fathers assassination. Robert Ryan Fortier Hexx was going to be a great man some day, but he had a temper and a strong sense of right and wrong and that info would set him off beyond what might be controlable.

He flicked a minute switch on a small device he carried in his inner pocket and a normally dormant chip in the computer activated. Electronic handshakes were exchanged and the Tanaaran A.I. was then in control of the computer.

The A.I.'s voice was a barritone male, rather youthful sounding. "Darren Winston my preliminary findings are that a delete command was activeated before the download was complete. However your programming was above a rating of excellent. I would like to cvonverse with you further when you have the time. I will authorise you to access me when ever you like."

"That is fine Myriad, but right now..." Sinjin typed in a series of encrypted commands and keycodes. "Unlimited Myriad, full access, take as long as you need."

"Yes sir." his tone was gleeful. Myriad, the Tanaaran master A.I. was amoral, and as skilled at entering other cybersystems, as the A.I. that had ensentienced him, Shado' -Perigrine Omega's Nietzschean AI. And he'd been waiting for years for authorization to take on Imitora.

Charli had turned away from what was going on around Darren. Like her mother before her dhe'd been hunted all her life and now every instict said some one out ther wished her ill. Moving slowly so as not to alert the others she went to stand beside the Pack member who ws still looking out into the back gardens. "You feel it too?" She asked softly and the man gave a brief nod. Charli's eyes searched the view out the back, and started with the sky, she'd learned long ago that the most dangerous hunters wern't always at ground level, and too feqw human looked over head. She couldn't spot find who was targeting her but she could feel them. Slowly and deliberately she raised a one fingered salute - visable only to some one watching from without.

The Pack memeber saw what she did and suppressed a snort of laughter as he moved away. He didn't see the shimmer of heat waves coming off her however.

"Dude, just blow her finger off."

Ryan chuckled as he let the scope glide back over to where Darren had sat. The target had moved back away from the table before the woman had moved, and he still had no shot. Selvin was still calling yellow.

"Could you even pull that off?"

"Man, are you kidding. With this rifle and glass, I could blow the dick off a humming bird at a thousand.

Selvin nodded. "I still think you should just pop the bitch, and when they all go running, drop the target."

"True," Ryan commented, waiting for Darren to come back into the picture.
__

Darren just shrugged. He knew his program was good, he didn't need an automated voice to tell him that. He had been so close, and it had been taken away from him. He sighed, dejected, and returned to the table.

__

"Green, green, green," Selvin said, watching Darren drop in behind Charli's eclipse.

"No shot clear," Ryan responded.

"I am advising green," Selvin countered, his voice edgy. "Take the fucking shot."

"Negative. No shot, retract green."

"Dude, take the fucking shot."

"No," Ryan countered, his words harsh. "It will hurt the suscess probablity of the mission, I'm not shooting till I get a clear shot."

There was a brief silence, a pause, then a click. Ryan could tell the distinct sound of Selvin's Sig Sauer comming off safe. "Dude. You have the opportunity to take the shot. Our only SP is taking him down. If we go down too, so be it." He leveled the Sig at Ryan's head.

Ryan rolled back, snapping the 1911 out of its holster, and leveling it on Selivn, taking his chest. "If I take the shot, I might not get a good clean kill angle, so no. I'm not fucking shooting."

Selvin paused, holding the tense silence, and then lunged forward. Ryan rolled away, comming off the table, and landing on the floor with a soft thud. He sprung to his feet, and side stepped a second lunge from Selvin. Salazo was good, but Ryan better. He moved to disarm the other shooter, and in the process snapped the Emerson out of his pocket, the wave feature catching the edge of the pocket lip, snapping the knife open.

Selvin moved in fast, his fist comming towards Ryan's face. But Ryan slid right, pushing the fist away, and came up with the knife into Selvin's armpit. A fast twist brought the knife out, and another quick move brought the knife around Selvin's neck. On nothing but pure instinct, the knife cut into Selvin, and he was down.

Ryan quickly went about cleaning up the scene.
___

Darren let his head drop at the table. "I can't believe I screwed up that big. I had all the info, and I let it slip. All of it."

A.I.'s live at the speed of light, or maybe more - they don't like to talk about such to mere humans who live at the incredibly slow rate of an average of seventy five heart beats per minute. Before even Sinjin had finished with the verbal authorization process Myriad was in the closest Imitoran handled section of the web, the Imitoran Embassy's computers. It had created the doorway long ago, in anticipation of one day being allowed to play freely.

"I think Fortier and one that came in on a flag flight are the ones we need, just as Kazuma suspected. The Embassy shows them as alloted rooms there and less than five hours later their armory computer registers the check out of a CheyTac and other bits and peices." Myriad advised in a disgusted tone." "I recognise one heading out this morning in a convoy coupe, so drop 'n cops are definitely on the loose. I've got the pictures of them heading out seperately this morning from the Embassies own cameras. They're being distrubited now for a slient pick up and hold for the Horsemen."

Myriad chuckeld as another part of him, working simultaneously with various bits of his asstention - A.I.'s are the ultimate multitaskers - finished cracking into commercial master sever system of Imitora proper, then began cracking the Mil.net at light speed, decrypting the root and base with an ease that would have had someone pushing 'the button' out of sheer panick. However no one noticed- Myriad was too expert and too discrete for that. He was as good as his cyber mother and practised against her and any other cyber system that would let him - as well as those that thought they were running their own practise scenearios, never knowing that they were losing to something that was Not a simulation.

"Independant confirmation" Myriad whooped, then lowered the speakers volume as sinjin started and others slewed around surprized by the volume. "Sorry Sin, their out of Fort Griffith Special Warfare Center, that is located near Clarton. DeMonthams himself went and picked them out of their varsity line up."

If nothing else Myriads copious use of slang should have alerted Darren that he was no mere automated voice. That and his voice clearly carried spontaneous emotions.

~~~~~

Charli turned away from the french door, suddenly wondering if she had imagined the pressure of hostile eyes upon her, and deciding that no she'd been correct. She returned to the table, and impulsively took Darren's hand, trying to comfort him.

"I can't believe I screwed up that big. I had all the info, and I let it slip. All of it."

"Darren I don't think that you did. And we'll get independant confirmation. Myriad can get into anywhere, he's the best!" Charli sought to reassure him. She liked Myriad, and he returned the favor. She was one of the few people that treated him, even on a sub conscious level as 'just another person'. And that easy acceptance was something most A.I.'s hungered for, and rarely seemed to get.

~~~

Rob had started at the name Fortier. "Sinjin whats going on. Fortier? I don't have any relatives..." He looked bewhildered, Khadri pulling him aside as he started to reach for the papers she held.

"Rob you nned to head back to the palace. Your Stepp to the International Isle and the Conference is scheduled for just an hour fron now. Thank you for coming in person and letting us know about your mothers change of plans, but we need to deal with this small emergency. Nat Int." Khadri said firmly, giving the teen their personal code for stuff they'd discuss later in a secure setting.

Rob Ryan nodded, a look of frustration on his face. He understood all too well the needs for circumspection but he'd gotten a small glimpse of the print out and his curosity was aroused.

Rob left reluctantly, some of his wolf pack folding in around him with practised ease while others took the outer perimeter. He'd findout from his mother what was going on. Part of him wished that Meldoy was going with him, the other part was relieved that her diving competition was scheduled when it was. He hoped to have a chance to spend time with Aeris. But as with Charli he was somewhat afraid that she'd consider him no more than a callow youth. Part Elf, part Angel the Empress of Tarlachia had been his friend for years, but he'd never told her how he felt about her.
~~~~~~

Charli smiled at Robert as he left, and relaxed a little. The feeling she'd gotten when she'd stood at the french doors had been directed at her she was certain, and with Rob and his security detail gone she'd be more able to concentrate on any one looking 'weirdly' at her, and Darren.

Darren seemed inconsoleable at the loss of the data. However Charli was certain that Myriad might have to go to extreme measures, he'd find it. She like Rob was profoundly curious as to just what those papers contained that pertained to Robert Fortier.

She carried a burden of guilt, and at times a ragged clawed need for revenge for his untimely death. She'd never told him how much he'd meant to her. In a was she'd viewed his as the favorite uncle she'd never had. She never saw him as a father figure, it just didn't gel, but a dashing, worldly, more than slightly heroic uncle? Yes, that is what part of her had cast him as, and she'd never thanked him for their friendship either.

Her mother had raised her alone, and mostly far from civilization- the better to have those hunting them stand out. Playmates and formal schooling hadn't been a part of her life, she didn't even know as a child to miss such. In her teens having learned to flay the Maule the ubiquitous workhorse plane of the Alaskan bush, and thrown herself into wildfire fightihng had brought her in to colser contact with 'the world', her upbringing had left her too wary to allow many to get close to her, despite an undefined, unacknowledged hunger for acceptance and friends.

Her mutancy, carefully hidden, stringently controlled was another factor in that dead zone around her. Many nations were anywhere from merely openly intollerant to having made it a captiol crime to simply be a mutant, and she'd experienced the savagery with which mutants could be treated first hand. And gotten Robert Fortier killed..

Charli shook her head treying to throw of the painful memories.

"Darren, come on, let Myriad work and we'll go take a time out. You need a break."

Ryan slipped into his a state of instinctual control, the shock of killing his partner simply washing around him, never taking him. He quickly dragged the body back to the room's bathroom, and tossed it into the tub. He closed the drain, cranked on the water, and then moved back out into the main room.

A black duffle was tossed on the bed, and Ryan began pulling out bottles of harsh cleaning chemicals. Bleach, amonia, chlorine, and other harsh liquids and salts used to clean everything from carpets to swimming pools, and everything in between. Going back into the bathroom, he turned on the sink, and dumped a towel under the ice cold water. Back out into the main room, he grabbed the rifle, as well as some of the other gadgets, and the cleaning chemicals.

Once back in the bathroom, he wrapped the towel around his face. First, the electronic gadgets were turned off, and then dumped into the tub. Then went the rifle. Next, he opened the bottle of liquid chlorine and bleach, and dumped it into the bath tub. Next went in a package of chemical salts, that not only produced a harsh hiss, but began to eat away at the clothing and skin of the body. He left the water running, turned on the ventalation fan, and closed the door. Back in the main room, he poured another bottle of bleach over the blood spilled on the carpet, and took the one way radio that doubled as communication equipment. He tucked it into his pocket, and left the room.

He remained calm and collected, and took the elevator down to the main lobby. He went back into the bathroom he had hid the E&E gear, checked for people, and when satisfied it was empty, he closed and locked the door. Pulling out the bag he had hid earlier, he changed into a clean shirt. He decided against taking out the MP5/10I and going postal, and simply replaced the bag, and left the bathroom. He made his way to the hotel bar, ordered a glass of cranberry juice, and began to address his options.
___

Darren shook his head. "Nah, I just kinda wanna relax here. I think I'll be fine. Just kinda need to collect my thoughts and stuff. Look at everything that just happened, see where I coulda done things differently."

It was standard ICIA procedure to debrief yourself after any operation, and he was doing it. He realized that his actions may have been a bit sloppy, a quick simple download at the end of a long day. That, and the stress of the situation. He had been moving to fast, and with hindsight being twenty up, DeMontham's computer had to have been on for him to gain access. He had designed the directors computer set up, including a warning system to alert for outside hacks.

His own programing had gotten him caught.

He shook his head, and allowed himself a slight smile. Even though he was missing some information, a good piece of info that should have been in the data, but it was also his program that prevented him from getting the info. "Coulda been worse," he advised. "I've desinged programs that cause computers to over heat and basically suicide, I could have accidently grabbed that drive instead."

"Actually Darren, such a program as that would have done only limited damage. Primarily to sub systems that I do not consciously pay regular attention to" Myriad replied absently but with no small smugness in his tone, as he continued his infiltration of Imitora's cyber space. "Since I am a sentient being, I would have over ridden such human constructed program before they had gone far. I am not limited to one limited physical shell such as you humans are."

Sinjin chuckled at Myriads slightly huffy reply, but mostly he was waiting for a preliminary report. And Myriad was not long in giving him one.

"Lord Kincannon, it's going to take direct physical intervention to get to the ICIA system. I can cause them to effectively suicide themselves, but other than that I can not get to the data you wish without the intervention I mentioned. Though I have found any number of files that you should be aware of."

"Damn" Was Sinjin's soft, but very frustrated comment. He lloked at the others. "So do we fry the ICIA's comps, or let them live?"

Darren nodded at the preliminary report. "Its one hell of a set up, really. Totally and utterly self contained. The only way to hack it is to hook right into it. No wireless connections, no outside hardwires. Its some good stuff."

He took a pull on his coffee, and swirled the mug. He let his mind battle it out for a few moments, and offered his peace.

"Listen, most of the people in the ICIA, hell, in Imitora, have no idea about any of this. Chances are, they haven't even put it on the news yet. It will prevent a panic, and keep things calm. If anything, taking out the system would cause mass panic, really screw with stuff. If we wanna keep quiet about this, and just slip away, the easiest way to do it is leave well enough alone. At worse, your gonna put a bunch of innocent people at risk by crashing the system. I mean, yeah, some of these up top guys are some sick fucks, but really, the system is also doing a good job of keeping other sick fucks out."

As much as Daren felt betrayed, he still felt Imitora was his home, and more often than not the ICIA did more good than bad. When your job was to stop the worst of the worse, you had to get your hands dirty.

"But thats just me, really. Its your call."

"No Darren, in the end it is really your call." Sinjin disagreed. "You're a good man Darren." and gave Myriad his revised orders.

"Go the long way Myriad, let the system live. He's right a crash and burn would hurt them worse than their involvement in the coupe hurt us." Sinjin said regretfully. He was Tanaaran to the bone and the idea of vengance appealed strongly to him, but he was also Tanaaran in his attitudes towards fair play and justice. An national contradiction they managed to live quite well with.

Myriad protestedf once, sounding much like a sulky child "But...Yes Boss" He'd get all the other interesting stuff he'd found and mention it later. And he'd eventually get in, it'd just take longer. Subborning humans was tricky, but doable.

Ryan pushed himself away from the bar, dropping a few bills to pay for the drinks. He had made a final decision on his course of action, and now had to carry it out. He adjusted his walk appropriately, losing the military like gait and dropping his shoulders. He allowed himself to slouch slightly, and made his way out of the hotel.
__

Darren nodded. "Luck," he said to the AI system. He finished his drink in silence, simply watching the computers. His mind trailed back home, wishing things could be the way they were a week or two ago. Now, it would be different. He would most likely have to change his name, his identity, everything. At least he was safe. He sighed, and stood.

"I'll be right back," he said. "I gotta, ya know, go."

He moved his way back towards the bathroom.
__

Ryan pushed open the door to the cafe, and ducked past a hostest. A gruff "I'm meeting someone," was all he said, low and under his breath. From behind his Oakly's, he noticed Darren ducking into the bathroom. He moved slowly, walking as any normal civi would, and followed Darren. His mark, the girl from earlier, was at the table he left, someone else close by.

He ignored the other two, and slid into the bathroom close behind Darren. Before the computer hacker could turn, Ryan quickly turned the lock, grabbed Darren by the back of his neck, and tossed him forward. The empty room echoed a hollow thud as Darren slammed into a tile wall, and Ryan slammed back up against him, pinning him in place.

"What the fuck are you up to?" Ryan demanded, wrapping one arm under Darrens right arm, and around his neck, the other acting as a support. Darren tried to struggle away, but Ryan effortlessly tossed him to the ground. He dropped down, grabbing Darren's arm, and twisting it hard behind his back. The Emerson CQC came out of the pocket and was hard against the back of Darren's neck.

"I will fucking decapitate you right fucking here. Tell me what the fuck is up," Ryan hissed, his voice low as to not cause a loud echo.

"I don't fucking know man. I was just bringing these guys some info man. About a coup and stuff."

"Bullshit."

"No, for real. They got all the info out front."

"If they don't, I'll fucking kill you straight up."

Moments later, Darren lead his way out of the bathroom, Ryan pressed up behind him. They made their way through the maze of tables, and sat across from Charli, but facing Sinjin. From behind the green reflective lenses of the Oaklys, Ryan's eyes danced from Charli, to Darren, and to Sinjin, and back to Charli.

Before the other two could talk, Ryan started.

"Hi. I'm gonna dispense with intros, lets get the bullshit outa the way. Darren here has informed me that you two seem to be working with him in gleaning some information. However, he seems to be a bit, inarticulate, when it comes to explaining the situation. So hows about one of you two try?"

Underneath the table, Ryan slipped the 1911 out of its holster, and pressed it against Darren's side. "And lets try to keep the topic of converstation on hand here."

Sinjins smile was hard, but he flashed a quick handsign for Khadri, Kazuma, and Robyn to stand down. His words to Charli were soft but stern. "Only if it goes south."

He looked at Ryan and shook his head minutely "The accent give you away ever time Imitoran. They spend fortunes training you but forget the accent, every damn time. No, Myriad, do not put this out over an open line, we wouldn't want Robert Francis Fortier son captured as an assassin. You think we didn't know when you entered the country Ryan?"

He looked over to Khadri "Dear hand the nice fall guy the papers and let him read for himself."

Charli was silent, her face an absolute study in shock. Then she found her voice, and it was low and laced with pure rage. "You're Rob's son and you're here to kill the man that brought out the information, the real information" She gave Sinjin a hard look and he had the grace to bite his lower lip. "about his death. You piece of shit!"

Ryan ignored Sinjin's comment. If he didn't want to appear Imitoran, he simply would have spoke in a differnt language than English. There wasn't much in the way of an Imitoran accent, it changed from person to person. If anything, his accent would be more easily confused for Irish than Imitoran. However, when he spoke in another language, he made sure the accent was flawless. He was only minorly suprised by their knowledge of who he was. They hadn't exactly entered the nation inconspicuously, and was sure that sooner or later, he would have been pinged.

However, he mused at the woman's comment. The man had called her Charli, he would assume it was her name. He chuckled, and mused quietly. "I keep my mother's maiden name, I get special treatement. I take my father's name, I get special treatment. This must be what Paris Hilton feels like."

Ryan took the papers, but set them aside. If he felt the need, he would look at them later.

You're Rob's son and you're here to kill the man that brought out the information, the real information, about his death. You piece of shit!

"Whatever hun," Ryan quipped back, looking hard through the Emerald tinted lenses of his Oakleys. His eyes darted quickly back down to the papers stacked in front of him. He nudged Darren with the barrel of the 1911. "Why don't you explain to me what all this information is Darren."

Darren just looked up at Charli and Sinjin with pleading eyes, as if asking them to make it so he didn't have to answer.

Sinjin's smile was still cold as he answered for Darren. "Fortier, Darren is a computer nerd, a great one but no trained combatant, and you aren't helping any by beiung such a prat." He shrugged slightly as if to say what could one expect from Imitoran special ops, and continued. "It's perfectly safe for you to read the printouts. But if you'd prefer the Cliff Notes version."

"Darren found the secret files that held the data of Imitora's involvement in the coup that happened a few years ago. He felt that taking it to the Imitoran Governemnt would not produce any results, so he brought it to us. And if you don't know who I am, I am Sinjin Kincannon. My family and I" He nodded to the other three "Often get called the Four Horsemen."

Charli took in Darrens semi battered appearance, and reached across the table to him. "Darren " She said with soft emphasis "Let me see your hands. He didn't hurt your hands did he?" All she needed to do was touch him and he'd be safe from what came next.

Sinjun leaned back in his chair, stretching slightly and useing the move to conceal a subtle, almost imperceptable inner tensing. He knew what Charli could do, and while he had no idea what she specifically intended, he didn't intend to get in her way. His reflexes, which would do a cat proud, would get him out of the way of any physical moves she might make.

Ryan's eyes never left the two in front of him. To take his eyes away from them and start reading the print outs, that would break any concentration that he held on his surroundings. He kept the weapon pressed against Darren, and with his free hand, slid off the sunglasses, setting them on the table on top of the print outs.

"So, the operational order was right. I'm hunting someone down for treason. Or do you not consider that a crime in your nation?"

As Charli reached out, Darren began to move his arms above the table. With his hands down by his sides, he couldn't just jump forward. But Ryan would have little of that.

"Darren, what was one of the things I told you before we came out here?"

Darren froze. "Uh, not to make any movements without your approval?"

Ryan nodded. "So keep 'em planted. Ok?"

Ryan looked at Charli, his eyes catching her's. "Please, Charli, is it? Lets try not to do anything to stupid here. I've already accepted my pending death, but I'm not sure anyone is ready to risk Darren here."

"and I thought I was paranoid" She snapped and would have said more save that Sinjin held up his hand stopping her.

"Ryan Fortier, if I found that my nation had deliberately formented a coup in an allied nation, I damn well would because the ones that authored it and authoriszed it were traitors to the honor of my nation. Tanaara does Not engage in such activities, and any one in our government who does is a traitor to his or her oaths. Tanaara's honor is more important than her potential embarrassement." His voice was adamant, his face stern.

"I guess Tanaara and Imitora are different there, because to us it is not treason to expose the illegal actions of the government or those who make up the government. So, why don't you give me Imitora's definition of treason, so we can make an informed comaparason."

Ryan chuckled. "Its only an illegal action because you didn't like it. Technically, that same strick force led by my father to help was no different. It was just helping another side."

Ryan suppressed a sigh. He didn't want to sit and play politics with these people, he would much rather just kill Darren and leave. But then again, while he was prepared for his own death, he wanted to walk out both vertical and ventillating, and was willing to play the game a bit longer.

"In Imitora, treason is taking something like highly classified information, information that you don't have legal access too, and giving it out, be it for a price or just for any reason you can justify. Well, thats one example, at least."

Ryan watched the two carefully. "Lets try this. Beyond the whole 'we'll kill you' aspect of the situation, why should I let Darren go right now and not take him out?"

"No there you are wrong Ryan. Your father and his friends had been asked by a government official of high enough classification and proper authority, to assist. He was here, by every Tanaaran law applicable, legally."

"And in Tanaara we call it theft. But I don't want to talk politics with you. Because in the end we all know your government is just going to go it's merry way, until your citizens have had enough of being callously used by those who are supposed to serve them." He shrugged.

"But no one here wants you dead, save may be Darren, and I doubt that he does, he's too good a man for that. It's called conscience, and courage of conviction by the way. Darren has them in great quanity and those are qualities I want Tanaara to have, and thus he is far more valuable than you are, for all your very lethal skills. And I am a man who appreciates lethal skills, but values others more."

Charli was torn - she didn't like this man, this rough, petty minded man who seemed little more than a trained attack dog, but she also found herself fascinated by him. The impulse to fall into his eyes...'Fortiers eyes, damn him! He has Fortiers eyes she gasped mentally and her anger at this intruder flared again moon faced assassin of joy..oh damn it woman he's not moonfaced... but she ruthlessly stopped herself.

As he spoke Charli, having argued her sudden disinclination to follow though on her alternate plan in to submission, reached out with her gifts.

A sudden spike in temperature - he'd feel it certainly but not know what caused it - the spike was enough to instantly give him very severe burns on the hand holding the pistol, but the first half inch of the pistol barrel slumped, mostly melted, sealing the barrel.

Ryan was poised to speak, but the sudden flash of heat in his left hand shocked him awake first. He flung his hand downwards and out under the table, the melting fire arm clacking to the ground. He was about to yell out, scream, shout, but he didn't.

His right hand moved fast, clutching his left just above the wrist, and applied pressure. Pain shot through his entire arm, tearing at his nerves, but he held it in, allowed the pain to flow. He used it, and concentrated on those words that he heard so long back.

Hold on to it Fortier. Take the pain. Accept it.

He didn't try to fight the pain, didn't try to push it away. Instead, he openly let it flow through him. Most people would start thrashing, start swinging, start fighting against their own brain telling them something is horribly wrong. Instead of this fighting action, Ryan calmly elevated his arm, sitting it on the table, palm open. He slowed his breathing, catching himself again.

It ain't goin' away boy. Just recite the oath calmly. Then it goes away

His face showed mild distortion from the burns, but the kind that one would expect from a milder sort of injury, such as a twisted ankle. His breathing was deeper, harsher than normal, but calm enough. His left arm shook and convulsed, but not violently. His right hand was gripped tight around his wrist, but not white knuckled.

"Nice trick," he edged out, his voice slightly louder than normal. Darren froze.

As Ryan moved so did Sinjin. He came to his feet in a flowing movement at about the time the pistol hit the ground. By the time Ryan's arm was atop the table the Tanaaran was pulling Darrent up and away, letting the chair fall as it would. And by the time Ryan spoke he'd interposed his body between Darren and Ryan, backing both himself, and Darren behind him, back a few steps away from the table.

Charli was moving as well - towards Ryan, freezing herself as he spoke, her hands hovered a hairs breath above his burns. She was murmuring soothing half sounds under her breath, the kind you use to gentle dangerous animals with. She was utterly unheeding of any violent reaction from Ryan, she was utterly focused on what she was doing. The opposite of her normal manipulation of heat...Drawing the heat in his burned flesh away- And cold washed over the burns, Ryan's seared flesh, the damaging reaction of the cells stopping.

She sat back down in her chair hard, her face deathly pale. Then just as quickly Charli stood, her movements jerky with exhaustion. "Sinjin you can handle this now. Darrren, no matter what he" and she half nodded at Ryan. "says, you did right. You did good. Thank you." She looked over at Khadri who was pulling out the spray tube of nano skin that she'd used earlier on Sinjins burned hands, then to Robyn and Kazuma who were moving in to take Ryan in hand " See ya'll later."

Charli looked down at Ryan "It was no pleasure meeting you."

As the three approached Ryan, he half nodded back at Charli.

It was no pleasure meeting you.

The nod was cocky, almost as if to say don't worry, you'll be back sooner or later. He watched for a moment as she walked away, but turned his attention to the three now approaching him. He could fight two of them, maybe, but with his hand injured as it was, the fight wouldn't last long if the other two joined in. He could have gone for the Emerson in his pocket but decided against it.

The 1911 had been the equalizer, so to speak. He was an expert at CQC, and had even begin teaching it to those who had made it into the RIA's Pathfinders, but the pistol would have made any sort of hand to hand much easier. He could have been outnumbered, and he was holding it with his left hand, but he was a decent ambidexterous shot. Much better so with a rifle, but he could hold his own left handing a side arm.

"So, what," he asked, still holding his left arm. By now the pain had subsided, or at least, it would have seemed so. Even if it hadn't subsided, he didn't feel it. "Is this the point where I dont pass go or get my two hundred dollars?"

Sinjin looked after Charli as she left the rear section of the cafe, concern evident on his face, but he knew how private she was and how much she loathed any displays of weakness. Going after her now would just anger her and he had a situation here that needed his attention more. He nodded to Kazuma. He'd make sure that an agent or two kept an eye on Charli as she left the cafe.

Khadri left that for Sinjun to answer as she sprayed the translucent foam over his burn. The nanobot medical gel was healing even as it spread out in a thin layer. "This will dissolve when the burn is healed. That should be rather quickly." She advised the Imitoran then spoke to Sinjin " I've never seen Charli do so quick a reversal, the damage is far more superficial than normal, if there is any such thing as normal with her." " She shook her head as she put the spray away.

Sinjin looked at those around the table turning his attention back to the situation there "I spoke with the survivors of Eagle's Roost. They said that she drew in the firestorm slowly, over a period of hours." He semi shrugged "I'm no expert."

"Is this the point where I dont pass go or get my two hundred dollars?"

"Pretty much Fortier. We're not going to let you kill Darren." Sinjin cocked an eyebrow "I do have question for you before you go. Where's your spotter, Selvin is his name if I remember correctly. We've I.D. him through disembarcation videos, as coming in on that flag flight."

Charli made her way to the west side section of the cafe. There was a booth here that she enjoyed sitting at as it allowed her to see the whole section without much being seen. There was a reason she'd suggested this cafe, when she'd heard that the one she was being asked to watch over was staying in the hotel that he was. Her physical therapist was the next building over and she'd spent many hours here trying to out wait the pain so she could drive safely back to the townhouse she was leasing. She needed to do that now. The heat roared within her and spots danced infront of her eyes.

Ryan listened with half interest as Sinjin discussed Charli. The trick had been nice, control of heat or possibly fire, very useful.

However, he would find out more about that later, deal with that at another time. Right now he had to fully address the situation he had found himself in. He should have fired when he had the chance, but then again, woulda shoulda coulda. Famous last words.

Pretty much Fortier. We're not going to let you kill Darren. I do have question for you before you go. Where's your spotter, Selvin is his name if I remember correctly. We've I.D. him through disembarcation videos, as coming in on that flag flight.

He took note of the phrase, before you go. It was simple enough. Really. Just tell them how to find the body, and he'd be off. But no, that wasn't the operation. He still had a chance to take out Darren, and disapear. Worst case scenario, he wasn't leaving without the hacker.

As Khadri dressed the wound, Ryan looked up at Sinjin. Technically, he wasn't a prisoner, but he had spent four days in a POW camp durring the Sambizie Rebels incident, and had heard before you go more times then he could count durring LEGEND.

"Master Sargeant Ryan Chaffin Fortier, 852251, Republic of Imitora Army."

He then looked down at Khadri. "There is a burn scar that was there before, I'd like to keep that if you can."

There is a burn scar that was there before, I'd like to keep that if you can."

"This won't heal the old scars, we have other stuff for that, so your psych test scar is safe." She stood up and tapped the papers in front of him, and her voice was kind "Ryan, you ought to read these and open your eyes to the ugliness in your government. I applaud your loyality to your country, but your own government is just using you. Your father was a good man and a good friend to our people. These papers reveal that your own government had Roman Catholic assassins take him out because he wasn't 'controlable'." She was a fast reader and had done more than skim the papers since Darren had handed them over. "Sometimes you can't walk away from evil."

Kazuma started to mention that he'd been informed that Charli hadn't left the cafe yet but Sinjin forestalled him as he addressed Ryan. With a half chuckle he replied "Master Sergeant Ryan Chaffin Fortier, it has been interesting meeting you. I do wish it had been under more pleasant circumstances." With that he brought out what looked like flesh colored flexicuffs

"These are just to insure that you stay here while we leave. They'll disolve in about thirty minutes."

Robyn, Kazuma and Khadri were already between Ryan and Darren, beginning to usher him out the French doors that lead to the back garden, the way they had come through once they'd left the hotel.

Ryan, you ought to read these and open your eyes to the ugliness in your government.

Ryan chuckled. "It's only ugly because you don't like it."

I applaud your loyality to your country, but your own government is just using you. Your father was a good man and a good friend to our people. These papers reveal that your own government had Roman Catholic assassins take him out because he wasn't 'controlable'.

Again, Ryan showed little emotion. He had read the after action review on the situation, about the assasins, and the shoot out. While he would eventually get to the question of the ICIA's involvement, he had to deal with the situation at hand.

"They shoulda just sent me, I would have handled it cleaner and kept it from going public."

Master Sergeant Ryan Chaffin Fortier, it has been interesting meeting you. I do wish it had been under more pleasant circumstances. These are just to insure that you stay here while we leave. They'll disolve in about thirty minutes.

Ryan offered little in the way of struggle as they flex cuffed him. He simply sat back in the chair, and watched as they pushed Darren to the door. "Thats right," he sighed. "Run away from the big bad Imitoran."

"They shoulda just sent me, I would have handled it cleaner and kept it from going public."

Khadri's voice lost it's gentleness "They had their own agenda, part of which included killing Charli and other innocents." She turned away and didn't look back, more than a little disgusted with the Imitoran.

"...Run away from the big bad Imitoran."

Sinjin threw back his head and laughed at that. "No, Ryan, I just don't want to have to kill the son of the man that my Maharali di Cantenas' The term was an uniquely Tanaaran one and he didn't bother to translate. He didn't think Ryan could understand the complexities of the relationship. "loves greatly. Your half brother wouldn't be any too happy with me either. You are not so big, and not so bad, that you can't be killed, don't ever forget that. A reputation may forestall trouble most of the time but not every time. Don't get killed because you think you are invincible."

~~

"Hey Charli, didn't see you come in. Boy it looks like you had a rough session today. Hot tea and ginger bread?"

Charli didn't raise her head from her hands, just kind of wiggled the fingers the waitress that usually handled the booth could see. The spots in front of her eyes were getting worse and even the tiniest movemnt of her head sent waves of vertigo through her. That had been the first reversal she'd tried since Eagle's Roost and now she had to add the fear that she'd 'ruptured' the barely healed injury within her, to her confused thoughts about a man she'd barely men and already violently disliked. She was certain that what she felt was dislike.

Ryan ignored Sinjin's last comment, staring ahead as the group left. Once out the door and around the corner, he worked his hands over to his right pocket. Using dexterous fingers, he manipulated the metal object in his pocket, and began to work it out.

The Emerson series of CQC knives had an interesting built in feature known as the wave. A small piece of the blade extended off the back of the knife, and was designed to catch the edge of the pocket, opening the knife as it came out of the pocket. Ryan used this feature to its best, and worked the knife out of his pocket. Holding it carefully, he pressed it against the inner side of the band holding together the two cuffs. He pushed hard against the plastic, pulling down. The razor sharp serations caught the plastic flex, and sliced evenly through the band.

He pushed himself away from the table, shaking the plastic free of his wrists. He snapped the knife closed, and stood away, pulling out his money clip wallet combo, and tugged out a handfull of of bills. He dropped a good amount on the table in order to compinsate for any mess.

Running through his options, he settled on a contact. He would have to break silence, so to speak, but he needed to get in touch with the ICIA station chief at the embassy. Explain the situation, and call in reinforcements. He turned towards the door, pausing for a moment to collect himself.

The scent of the tea and ginger bread, normally so enticing, just made Charli's stomach churn, and her vision was slmost gone, lost in a blurry haze. She funbled for her keys after sliding her credit wand into the tables concierge console. Moving carefully, using her memory of the lay out of the cafe - she was very glad that she'd been spending so much time there. She only bumped into table corners twice before she made it to the front door.

The bright, late afternoon sunlight striking eyes already hurting made her gasp and stumbles twice more making it down the low broad steps that left from the cafe's veranda down to the sidewalk. Her eyes were tearing badly, and it was hard keeping herself from rubbing them. Fortunately the many towering trees provided some pockets of deep shade.

"Just have to make it to the hotel" She muttered to herself. Cutting across the spacious central park of the square would be quickest.

Ryan made his way out of the cafe, offering a wink to a cute waitress, and towards the hotel. He wasn't going to go in the hotel, but would walk by it back to the embassy. It would allow him to set himself propperly on the map he had displayed mentally.

As he made his way out from the cafe towards the hotel, he noticed the girl again. She was stumbling around in an off manner, as if she were lost or mentally out of it. It was an easy grab. He could nab her right now, and use her to bargain with. But that would get away in his E&E. That was his major goal right now.

However, as the woman id'd as Charli stepped into the street as traffic moved forward, Ryan took after her. If she was going to die anytime soon, after the stunt at the cafe, he was going to be the one to kill her. He reached out as she stumbled off the curb, grabbed her by the back of her shirt, and tugged her back towards the sidewalk.

"For fucks sake, get a hold of yourself," he swore under his breath.

'Oh just the last person I need in my presence at the moment!' Charli snarled mentally as her headache went from a dull roar into maximum overdrive. She wrenched herself free and spun about. She tried to at least, managing just in time to keep her balance

However Ryan was able to notice in those short seconds he held her shirt that heat was rising off her in a disctinctly unnatural way, though she did not appear to be flushed.

"You get the frak away from me." she snapped at the Imitoran. She was sure it was him, she'd placed his voice instantly, even if all she could see was a rough figure though a silvery fog.

'Oh fry me, I am in such kimchee. I'm not going to be able to drive. Maybe I can wait it out in the Phoneix' She thought frantically. The parking garage was very dimly lit. Some time there, perhaps a nap, and 'I'll be better. Just go to ride this out.

She was unaware that to any one looking at her, her eyes were definitely strange, the whole of them covered with a shifting smokelike film. That the film, though it seemed in places to be semi transparent, was interfering with her vision was very obvious - she was looking directly at Ryan, but there was no focus to her eyes.

Ryan got one look at her eyes, and shook his head. She looked drunk, maybe even more, and he just sighed. He quickly resigned himself to an assurance that if she hadn't been able to manipulate his firearm as such, he would have been able to walk Darren out, kill him, and call it a day.

Instead, however, he just stepped back.

"Whatever. Don't get killed," he offered, and moved on his own way. "By the way. Might wanna check out the bathtub in room five oh four in that hotel you and Darren were in. I left a little present for ya."
__

Ryan pushed open the door to the Imitoran embassy, and made his way to the front desk. A receptionist looked up with an uncaring stare, and sighed. "Yes?" he asked.

"Ryan Fortier, 852251. I need to speak with the station cheif."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No," Ryan replied, his voice louder than normal, "but I need to see him now." Two Marine Gaurds turned to look.

"Well, you can't see him without an appointment. Come back later." The Marines started moving towards the desk.

Ryan sighed. With a quick, jerking motion, he reached over the desk, grabbed the receptionist, lifted him out of his chair, and slammed him hard down on the top of the desk. "Where the fuck is Watkins?"

The Marines took off towards Ryan, one calling for back up, the other going for his side arm. Before either could reach him, a side door opened, and a bearded, slightly overwieght man stepped out. "For fucks sake Ryan, get the hell in here!"

The Marines stopped dead, and watched as the man disapeared into the side door.
__

Two hours later, the same older, overwieght man shook his head. "So you killed Selvin?"

"Needed too. He was endangering the mission."

"His advice was right, you should have just killed the girl."

"Well, I didn't. So where do we go from here. Call in the rest of the team, we'll handle this. We can track him back down, go old school. Kick the door and blow some skulls open."

"Negative. You are going to stay here in confinement."

"What?" Ryan demanded.

"Your actions have deliberately caused the failure of a mission vital to the national security of the Republic of Imitora. In doing so, you have violated a direct commitment made by your oath. In light of your otherwise outstanding service, I'm going to recomend nothing more, and nothing less, than a general discharge with no pension options or recomendations."

"What the fuck Watkins? Just give me what I need and we can finish this shit."

"Ryan, I advise you to calm down."

"And I advise you to go fuck yourself with a fork!"

"Master Sergeant, do I need to recomend more. In legal theory, your actions are no better than Mr. Winston's. I could have you recomended for at minimum a dishonorable discharge, or worse. Maybe bring to light some of your past activities. I'm sure that a certain Flag Admiral's carreer would be shot dead if it came to light her son used to move phetamines on a regular basis. Or time spent with certain individuals wanted for numerous crimes."

"Man, you mother," Ryan started.

"What? You didn't think your past was unknown to the ICIA or military? Getting your hands dirty in such ways always comes back to haunt, Mr. Fortier. Now, please, do I need to call the EST detail on duty, or will you report to your room peacfully?"

Fortier huffed, standing. "Just a heads up. Before I go home, I am going to kill you." He turned, and left back to the room. Two guards were already there, having cased the room.

Charli was glad that the annoying Ryan Fortier had left, though part of her felt guilty for not thanking him from pulling her back from the traffic she couldn't see. [i]but what has he left in the room? A bomb, damn I need to get over there![/b] She started to really worry.

"Okay I can do this just have to listen carefully." She muttered under her breath as she stood hesitatntly on the curb. The sensation of being helpless filled her with such rage that she was trembling, and she was about to bolt across the street despite the sounds of traffic on the squares streets getting heavier and heavier.

Lady Luck smiled on her, for the agents assigned to keep an eye on her finally found her. She passed along Ryans words, demanding to be taken over there, but orders frome Sinjin -who had also been apprised by the agents of her condition - over ruled that demand. She found herself being taken to Montguard Medical.

She blamed Ryan for the next miserable hours.

Sinjin had the bathtub cut free, and it and the contents shipped to the Imitoran embassy, protectively crated of course. The wording on the accompanying note advised the Imitoran Ambassador that Imitoran assassins were persona non grata in Tanaara, and if any more were found on Tanaaran soil that it would be considered an act of war.

Charli got the agents who'd called the ambulance, then followed it and thus her to the Medical Center, to take her back to the hotel the next morning. That her eyes were still rather light sensitive was the least of her problems.

Mercedez's personal physician had checked on her and told her that sunglasses for several days would be advisable. He'd not been happy about releasing her, for Daveed had come around midnight and scanned her. The damage she'd done to herself at Eagle's Roost had barely healed and she'd torn it wide open again, though Daveed couldn't tell why such a minor exercise had caused such a reaction. However Charli had agitated enough that they felt they couldn't hold her for a non physical injury. Daveed strongly cautioned her against any use of her abilities.

Charli would have said anything to get out of there, so she'd agreed in a heart beat. She intended to try and follow his advice, but deep inside she knew that it would probably go right out the window if her gifts were needed.

She was fishing her keys out of her pocket as she strode towards the Phoenix, wondering if Darren was okay. She'd come to like the Imitoran hacker in the short time she'd known him. To her dismay she also found herself wondering if Ryan Fortier was doing well.

Ryan had spent the rest of the day in the bunk, locked down. He used the time to sleep, crashing into a bed, and letting himself fall into the deep slumber of fatigue.
__

Watkins looked down at the body, at least what was once one, in the crate. "Damn," he swore under his breath. "Those clean up chemicals we used worked pretty well."

A secartary left the room to vommit.

Watkins sighed, and ordered the contents disposed off. He would have it dumped in the Tarlachian embassy dumpster, a nice practical joke. He then began to work on preparing his debrief for the ICIA operations center, which would be done, as required, on a typewritter. On open networks, such as an embassy network, the ICIA did all it could to eliminate any evidence of its actions or communications. One couldn't hack a piece of equipment that had no phone line to plug into.
__

Ryan woke early the next day, and dressed quickly.

When the Marines came to retrieve him, they opened the door into an empty room, with Ryan no where to be found.

One of the Marines went to his radio, the other to his gun. Neither made it. Ryan moved outfrom behind the door quickly, grabbing the one going for his gun first. Grabbing his descending hand, he twisted it up hard around his back. His free hand went for the Glock in the holster, grabbing the firearm, and kicked out the Marine's legs, dropping him and sliding the Glock out of its holster. A hard downward thrust drove Ryan's boot hard into the back of the Marine's neck, knocking him out. The first action took no more than four seconds.

The second Marine went for his night stick, but he never got it up to an attack point. Ryan grabbed it with his left hand, transitioning the Glock to his right, and twisted it out and away from his body. He spun in towards the Marine, bringing his elbow to the Marine's face. As the second Marine began to drop, Ryan brought the night stick around, smashing him across the face, knocking him out cold, and breaking his jaw in the process. That took five seconds.

Ryan made his way away from the bunk, tucking the Glock into his jeans, keeping the stick up. Comming around the corner, he noticed an embassy gaurd, back to him. Moving with agility, he slung the night stick around, under the gaurd's neck, and tugged in hard, squeezing until he felt the body go limp.

He stayed quiet untill he exited the embassy, moving out the back door. Christmas came early, and he found Watkins taking a smoke break. Ryan crossed the distance quickly, bringing the Glock out of his jeans. The 10mm Glock 20 came up into the small of Watkins back.

The ICIA cheif didn't have a chance to speak. The crack of the 10mm hollowpoint round exiting the barrel into Watkins' back was followed by a similar sound, this time the round entering his head.

Ryan cleared the rear security gate easily enough, disabling a final Marine gaurd, and made his way out around embassy lane. His goal was to find one of his questioners from the past day, and ask some first questions of his own. Tucking the Glock back into his jeans, he worked his way back towards the hotel from the day before.

Charli tapped the remote and the Phoenix's gull wing doors powered up and music poured forth, startling her for a moment. Then she laughed, remembering that she had left a Ccube in the player.

It was Bowie as Ziggy Stardust, his voice soaring, and she found herslef singing along.

Her voice was untrained but it was pleasant to listen too, and she had a fairly wide vocal range. "Some of these days, and it wont be long Gonna drive back down where you once belonged, In the back of a dream car twenty foot long. Dont cry my sweet, dont break my heart. Doing all right, but you gotta get smart. Wish upon, wish upon, day upon day, I believe oh lord! I believe all the way. Come get up my baby. Run for the shadows, run for the shadows, run for the shadows in these golden years."

She'd manage to forget the pain still rippling along her nerves, and found herself doing a dance step. She'd done little club dancing, her dating record being beyond abysmal and into non existant, but she'd seen the move while trouble shooting at Cain's in Houston. She took advantage of the garages dim lighting, and smooth, almost polished concrete floor. Charli wouldn't have done if if she thought any one was watching. She knew that she would be utterly embarrassed to be seen acting like a fool.

"So," DeMonthams said, looking at the situational report, "we have now a rouge agent still free, a Detachment Shooter running around on some sort of vigalante drive, a dead Detachment Shooter, and a dead ICIA section chief?" The embassy had reported in the escape almost within ten minutes of it taking place.

Cerna offered a sad nod. "Yeah. Not really sure what happened. Based on the report we recieved this morning, Selvin and Fortier had some sort of disagreement how to take down the target. Selvin tried to force Fortier to take the shot, they scuffled, and Fortier won."

DeMonthams was quiet. "Very well. Keep this quiet, only inform the proper personel. We'll take out Darren the old fashioned way. I want certain personel in on a watch for Fortier if he tries to come back. No announcements, no news press, nothing. Just the proper tops. Don't even inform Chafin."

Cerna nodded. "Who should we get in touch with for dealing with Darren? I'm sure that the Tanaarans will be looking for our shooters."

"Like I said, we're gonna do this old school. I'll get in touch with my people."

The talk continued dealing with matters of importance for a number of hours.
__

Ryan moved with a cat like stealthiness through the crowded square, not far from where he had encountered Darren and the others the day before. While he was sure that his face and body had been picked up, images recorded, and watch programs had been put in place to observe his movements. However, it would take nothing short of a full scale tailing team, complete with front and rear eyes, follow cars, and radio teams monitering any cameras to both keep on him, and not be picked up. He had scored a top class rating with his counter intell training, meaning not only was he qualified to do it in the field, but to teach others how to do it.

Of course, E&E wasn't really his main operation at the moment, but instead information gathering. While he knew his chances of finding someone from the other day, was slim, but then again, he had been succesfull the day before, with an equally slim chance.

Charli stopped herself after the one dance step, she'd have been far too embarrased if on of the hotel's patrons had unexpectedly shown up to collect their car and had seen her. "I'm as graceless as a moose" she muttered to herself as she slid into the Phoenix's butter soft leather seats. "Social graces aren't of any value fighting a wildfire." She half chucked, but the sight of the dark bruises around her eyes damped the last of any high spirits she had.

The Phoenix rumbled to life and she zipped up the curving ramp and into the sunlight, remembering just in time to slide the heavy sunglasses they'd forced on her at the hospital down on her nose. They did help she grudgingly admitted as she waited at the exit for a break in the traffic. It wasn't heavy but she sat through several potential opening glaring at a figure she figured not to see agaion.

"What in the ...I thought they'd kicked his sorry ass out!" She exclaimed wrathfully as she watched Ryan eel his way through the late morning crowds. [i]'Okay, how do I get him out of here with out starting a fire fight?'[i]She thought as she watched the group of children she'd seen yesterday heading back to the park in the center of the square. The adults about could take care of themselves, most were openly armed. Ryan had been armed the day before and since Imitorans and Tanaarans thought alike when it came to weaponds she didn't doubt that he was armed again. The presence of the children decided her.

She pulled the Phoenix just ahead of his track and powered up the passenger gull wing. She leant over so he could see her when he came abreast of the open door.

Ryan took a step back from the Phoenix, giving it a harsh eye through the Oakleys. The emerald green lenses hid both the curiosity and interest in his eyes. Instinctively, his hand went back towards his right hip, hand hovering near the tucked in Glock. "What?" he didn't so much say as growl out.
Charli used one finger to slide the heavy sunglasses down her nose so he could se her eyes. "Wanna ride some place or just looking to kill a few more good men?"

Ryan stifled a laugh. At least she had a sense of humor. And a body. And the eyes. He forced himself to concentrate, offering his own quip in return. "Kill count is high enough for the time being, I could take a day off and still hold a decent lead. But how do I know you ain't gonna fry me as soon as I get into the car?"

"I wouldn't want to mess up the nice Tanaaran landscape and beside you going all "Fortean" rather than Fortier would scare the children." She said with sarcastic sweetness, which changed to mock horror as she continued "Wouldn’t want to scare the children. But you being Fortier is bad enough. Just get in the damned car. I'm not going to fry yo' ass" at least not right now' she continued under her breath as she chuffed in exasperation."

Ryan paused for a moment, contemplating the options. One could not dispel such an act of providence. Luck was truly on his side for the moment. He let his hand fall away from his hip, and he relaxed his stance. By his count, he had pissed off the Tanaaran government, and most likely his own would be none to happy with his recent actions. He would take anything he could get at this point. He didn't speak, but walked forward, still cautious, and slid into the AMX, pulling the gull wing door closed, and snapping his seat belt across his lap.

Charli pulled away from the curb smoothly "Okay hot shot, if you aren't up for a little freelance assassination today, what can I do for you?" The highway was less than a mile away and she turned the car in that direction, driving with a sedateness that would astonish most of those that knew her. Even more careful not to rock her passengers boat than she had been with Darren. And for good reason.


"Its not really free lance, its more of an order. Of course, I hear Blue Badges get paid pretty well now a days." He spoke dry, no hint of joking in the obviously joking remark. As she piloted the car in an expert fashion, he added 'she can drive' to the list. "I'm looking for intell. So far, I've killed two people, and put three in a very painful situation. None of them my target. I'd like to see what exactly we have going on in Dodge. Or Montgard."

Shaking her head "One is supposed to get the hell out of Dodge, not investigate what’s going on, and the same goes for you and Montgard. Look I'm sorry that you didn't get to, in good robotic fashion, fulfill your order, but Fortier..." She started to say something about his father and just couldn't. After a long second of silence "Look Ryan" She began again "I owe you for pulling me back yesterday when I couldn't see, but that doesn't extend to me letting you kill an innocent man just because your stinking government wants to hush up their involvement in the attempted over throw of a government of an nation they are supposedly friends to. I hate governments of any sort and with damn good reason. But the government here, of Tanara, is one I could support, made up of good people and yours tried to hurt those people. I'm not going to let you fuck with them.”

Ryan simply nodded. "And I'm sure the hands of the Tanaaran government are free from blood and sin. Listen, Charli, right? I'm not here to debate the merits of my operation. At this point, I am persona non gratta, and most likely a target of a secondary hit team. I killed my spotter, and I've killed the ICIA station chief at the Embassy. I put three Marines in the hospital. At this point, The Tanaaran government is second on the list of places to fuck with. I have my own problems to deal with now, and if Darren wants to pull whatever shit he wants to pull, he can. Right now, I'm looking for Intell."

Charli turned her head to him as they pulled up at the last light before the highway. Her astonishment was clear to see. "Shit, Ryan that’s a real a one- eighty. What brought that on?" Her tone was abashed now "I'm sorry I jumped down your throat. Lets start over And yeah it's Charli, Charli Firewalker. I brought your dad's body back to Imitora."

Ryan shrugged. "No one threatens my family," was all he said. Whether or not Charli noted it as Ryan meaning his father was her judgment. In reality, all he cared about was his mother and her life. The relationship he had with the supposed memory of his father was best explained as interesting. As such, he offered a curt "thanks," at her later comment. He could pick up on sadness in her voice. In an odd act of tact for an Imitoran, he didn't reply with what he really wanted to say, 'you should have just left it there.'

"Okay you say you want information, maybe I can help you with that. But I can't really promise much, save a fun drive at the moment." At that they had reached the highway and now Charli let the Phoenix run, all the pretty ponies hauling hooves, or rather wheels, as one as in flashing seconds they were in the inner lane. There were no official speed limits on Tanaaran highways, but the inner lane by custom was reserved for "Nothing under one eighty" and the Phoenix's speedometer was cresting past two hundred.

Ryan nodded. "Well, I'll take what I can get about now," The speed didn't bother him, nor did he really feel it. Imitora was similar in some ways drive wise, holding to the German school of thought: Drive by skill level and conditions. And there was no outrunning Imitora's chase police. "So where are we going?"

"I'm probably making the old adage out of me, and assuming you want to talk to Sinjin and company some more? Or is there some one else locally that has what you need?" She kept the car running just above the second century, the lane was empty for as far as she could see, it being a little too early for the high-enders to be out.

Sinjin's fine" Ryan responded. Local contacts wouldn't be anything he was looking for. Most of them were ICIA as well, and in an hour or so, they would all be over his ass. "I'm assuming he can get me the words I need to make my judgment call, though I don't think heading back home would be my best bet at this point. That, and I could use a good holster."

"Tucked down the back of your pants? Not very secure, but good for shooting off your ass" Charli found herself grinning at him. "What is it you are carrying?" I've got a spare or two in the trunk, such as it is on the Phoenix." She offered as she swung into a slower lane to make the cloverleaf on to a cross highway and turn north to the palace. She didn't know if Sinjin had left for the regional conference yet, but Mont Royal was where he would be if he hadn't.

Ryan reached around to the back of his jeans. The cheap five dollar department store belt held the pistol in place fine. He was tempted to quote the former first speaker regarding the safety positioning of the handgun, but then thought it might not go over well. He tugged out the polymer framed Glock 20. "Ya know, I kinda like it. Fits my hand well," he said. He snapped the slide back, and caught the round as it floated through the air. "And this ten mill hollow point, shit. You can mix a god damned Martini in it."

Charli made a face, she loathed Glocks, wouldn't touch them. "Not a gun that I favor at all, but I think one of my spares will hold it." She pulled off the highway and into a small roadside park. She raised the door and pulling the keys out of the ignition tossed them to Ryan. "Spares are in the boot, you get to drive, the way to Mont Royal is marked. You get to drive." She didn't really want to, but the pain in her eyes had come back worse and she was finding herself too exhausted to drive safely. Yeah she was too tired, she caught herself repeating herself.

Ryan snapped the keys out of the air, and went to the trunk. Finding a decent piece of leather, he slipped it on to his belt, and slid the Glock in place. It was perfectly snug, and designed to follow Ryan's preference of carry, the FBI Tilt. He tugged his t-shirt over the Glock and slid into the driver's seat. Following the road signs, he eased the Phoenix on to the highway, holding it around 95 as he got a good bit of pedal feel. Once confident with the feeling, he mashed down the gas, never lifting as he dropped the clutch, rowing through the gears easily. No lift shifting kept the tach above three thousand as the older super car danced through slowly emerging traffic. He was fine at 150, capable of more, but leaving it at the buck and a half mark, for whatever reason he would keep to himself.

As they headed towards the palace, on the far north side of sprawling Montgard, Charli found herself relaxing, trusting Ryan to drive the Phoenix as skillfully as she did. That was an unsettleing thought for more than a few minutes, then she gave a mental shrug and let it go. Normally she was the one behind the wheel. And if she wasn't, she was paying close attention to exactly what the person behind the wheel was doing. Especially the last few months when she'd been teaching advanced courses in mountainous road driving techniques. Her studens, while not novice drivers, had managed to pull a few near disasters out of their practise runs.

However she couldn't let it go it seemed. 'Okay he's obnoxious, annoying and just two steps up from a bone breaker of a thug but...' She closed her eyes behind the dark sun glasses and let her mind wander for a few minutes as she tried to put into words what she felt. 'Perhaps it's just the unusual sensation being in a car driven by some one else. I don't like..No not the L word, you can't like him, you dimwitted woman. He's Imitoran and probably has...Has what? ...A dozen women waiting for him back there. His father always did..I can at least admit that he's a handsome obnoxious, annoying Imitoran assassin. Great Galloping Googinols I'm arguing with myself..Maybe I shouldn't have checked myself out of the hospital.'

She sought external distraction from her internal bickering.

"You drive as good as your dad did, maybe better. Did he teach you?"

"Never met 'em," was all Ryan replied, keeping his response short.

Another no lift shift, and he jumped out into the far lane to pass a slower moving saloon. He kept on the go pedal as he pushed back into the lane. Another shift back into the overdrive fifth to let the AMX cruise. he kept the car steady, refusing to let in any creep of body roll or hard shudders from an off shift. And he never miss shift. He did once, long ago, but the punishment of destroying a supercharged V8 in his mother's Cobra made sure he never, ever did it again.

"He left before I was born. I learned how to drive from my mom and my step dad. Mostly my mom. I got better after going to a coupla tactical driving schools. Nothing like hanging the ass end of an ought three GTO out there under simulated fire from light machine guns with a wounded team mate shoved in the back and someone literally riding shot gun." He offered a sly smile at the mention of the numerous driving schools he had attended, and the one he taught.

Charli blinked behind her sunglasses but didn't turn her head towrds Ryan. "I see." was all she replied for a few minutes.

"My father died before I was born. He was killed by one of the Shop's hunter killer teams when he distracted them from my mother, giving her time to escape."

She paused for another moment "Fortier could piss me off in an instant, but also...I would have loved for him to be my 'really cool, kinda black sheep of the family, who goes all these mysterious places and does all these mysterious things that the family won't ever talk about'."

She kinda shrugged "He didn't mind being seen with some overly tall, ungainly moose of a woman." Charli didn't think her appearance was anthing to speak of save negatively. "And he didn't try and step in and handle my job for me." She smiled at the memory of the two drunken werewolves wreaking havock on Cains locker room, then described it for Ryan, finding herself laughing at her remembered frustration when she couldn't get the two seperated "They were so drunk they couldn't feel the burns I was giving them."

Ryan replied with nought more than another nod. "He seemed like a good guy," was his only vocal response, and a careful ear would note that it was not in a tone that was open for discussion.

He didn't mind being seen with some overly tall, ungainly moose of a woman.

"And who was that?" Ryan questioned, downshifting as they approached an exit ramp.

Charli gave Ryan a Look, but some how she knew that the dark glasses ruined any hoped for effect. "Me, Ryan, me."

Then they were off the highway and she directed him down a barely visable turn off. After less than a hundred feet they had to stop before a heavy security gate masqueradeing as something decoratively wrought iron.

"Stop and we both need to get out of the car, take a couple of steps clear of the car and turn slowly in a three sixty with our arms out stretched. I'm pretty sure that there are anti tank weapons trained on us at the moment, just for your information."

Security at Mont Royal was tight, as one might expect of the complex that was not only a working seat of government, but the Queen's primary residence as well. Sensors burried in the road way had already identified the vehicle, 'sniffed' it for external explosives, and were tracking it back to the hotel so that tapes from the hotesl garage could be accessed. Asd the vehicle came to a stop a small robotic came up from a concealed bunker under the road way, a trap door opening to release it. Per it's programing it climbed on spider like ligs into the undercarriage and wedged itself in place and activated the electro magnets that would help hol it inplace. It could be remotely detonated, or if certain paramaters werfe met it could detonate itself.

"We'll need to stand there until a detatchment comes and admits us. We'll need to follow them, but no closer than about fifty feet. If they brake, so do we, and we don't close up on them. Once we're though the outer perimeter, we'll be scanned again and vetted. They know me, so I think we won't be treated to the full first time folderol."

Charli suited actions to words as Ryan braked the Phoenix to a halt and stepped from the passenger side door, to turn slowly about then stand waiting paitently, her arms by her sides. The road was shaded and the terracted hillside was cooled with soft breezes. With the spectacular view it wasn't an unpleasant wait.

Ryan slid in the clutch, and dropped the Pheonix into nuetral. Keeping the stick centered, he let gravity pull the car down as it rolled up an exit ramp.

Me, Ryan, me.

"Christ," Ryan swore under his breath. "You women, shit. You force yourself to live up to some sorta Barbie doll standard of bullshit beauty. Some chick in the magazine with an off proportioned body looks like crap, but she's selling a shampoo that will get you off in the shower, so she must be hot. You get so screwed up on some sorta mental hang up that you don't even realize how good looking you are."

He followed the road signs further on, and let the car come to rest at the front gate.

The robot put him off a touch, he was used to dealing with human gaurds he could down talk. That, and he had some sort of thing about anyone touching a car that wasn't offered. However, now was not the time to fight back, and instead, he held his arms out, bent slightly at the elbows, forarms parrallel to the ground. Some communities would have found the arm position, and his hung forward head, sacreligous.

"Nice view," he commented. Behind the emerald green lenses of the Oakleys, he followed not the tree line, but instead the line up Charli's thighs.

Ryans rant had left Charli totally baffeled. She'd very seldom looked at fashion magazines, and she'd used Johnson and Johnson baby shampoo all her life. "Ryan if women's fashion mags bother you so much, maybe you ought to cancel your subscription to them. You'd probably enjoy Car and Driver more." Was the only comment she could think to make. She found herself wanting to laugh, and see him relaxed and laughing too.

The detail was there quickly, in one of their signature franken-burbans, and the heavy gate was sliding back. "You go ahead and drive Ryan, I want them to see that I tru...." Charli froze as she started to put on the seatbelt and realized what she'd just about said "That, that I'm fine with you driving."

'Is he some sort of psionic, or mutant? My mouth is running away with me and I don't trust any one this quick. What in the hell is wrong with me?' I love his eyes, I wish he'd take off those shades so I could see them. I definitely don't want to take mine off though, these black eyes make me look like a shabby raccoon. She thought as she finished fastening the seatbelt.

Ryan nodded and slid into the driver's seat of the Pheonix.

"Trust me eh?" he asked, catching on what she was about to say. "Us Imitorans are very disarming like that. We can hold a gun to your head, and convince you its what you really want," he chuckled.

"Of course, we can also be supreme assholes. But its fun like that."

He short shifted the Pheonix, keeping the revs, and decibel levels, low.

"Quit reading my mind. or making me want to be agreeable." Charli snapped nettled, as she guessed he intended. She felt so off balance around him and she didn't much like that. So she decided to turn the tables.

"You ever hold a gun to me and I'll melt it faster than you can think." She threatened, and the tone of voice said she meant it.

However the next comment had her blinking, not sure if she'd said it. "What I really want is for you to take the shades off so I can see your eyes."

"The road is tree lined, the suns mostly blocked, if you can't handle the Phoenix in an emergency at thrity miles per, then you aren't the diver I think you are." She amnended, trying to make her words sound more rational.

Something is wrong with me, I definitely shouldn't have left the hospital, I am clearly not thinking clearly.She thought frantically.

"Deal."

Ryan snapped off the Oakleys and folded them shut, sticking one of the ear pieces into the pocket of his jeans. He looked over at her, keeping his focus on the road, but his eyes on her. Light olive green fadded to a deep royal blue towards the pupils, interupting the blue.

He kept the car well under control, offered a wink and smirk to Charli, and then turned his eyes back towards the road. "Its always the eyes," he joked. "Jordan's got the shoes. I got the eyes."

"So who are we gonna meet here anyways?"

Charli felt her throat close up, it was suddenly hard to breathe as he looked at her without the 'defenses' of the sunglasses. It's nonsense that toes curl when being kissed, and it's even greater nonsense to have them curl when some one looks at you. He's just shining you on She upbraided herself sternly.

"Your eyes are certainly something but who is Jordan and what does his shoes have to do with the price of tea in China?" She asked more breathlessly than she would have liked but less that she was afraid she would. Remember he's admitted to being thoroughly Imitoran, and only the slime that'd look at any woman has ever looked twice at you.

"Whom are we going to see? Sinjin if he's still in the country, Or Lady Di'Racul, she's the current Director of TMI, or possibly we will end up seeing the Queen. It all depends on whos available, who's willing to talk to you and exactly what information you want. What information do you want?" Charli asked as the road swung into a tree shaded court yard and the franken-burban slowed to a stop for a long moment, disgorging a pair of agents that headed toward the Phoenix as the heavily armored vehicle went from park into drive and accelerated away. Two other men werre comming down a broad half flight of stairs at a trot, to catch up with the agents approaching.

"The short man who looks ratrher like a fireplug? That's Javier, one of the royal secretaries, who mostly handles Sinjin's brief, so we might be in luck and Sinjin hasn't left yet." Charli indicated a man who rather did resemble an old fashioned fireplug. He was older, in his seventies, but carried himself well and his movemnts were still brisk.

Charli hoped mightily that Sinjin was still in residence. The last person she wasnted to see was Lady Di'Racul. She didn't like the sleekly beautiful woman. She always felt awkward and less polished than usual. And she wondered why all of a sudden she considered the Tanaan Intellegence Director as competetion. For what though?She wondered briefly as she glanced over at Ryan again.

The agents motioned for Ryan and Charli to step out, but they stayed a reasonable - that is a reaction safe distance- from the flame hued super car. The man whom Charli had identified as Javier didn't stop though and came up to within easy conversation distance from Charli's door.

Charli nodded to Ryan and activated her door, waiting until it was fully raised and Javier had stepped up to give her a hand up and out.

"Mi'lady Charlene, it is so good to see you again." He greeted her warmly, doing a half bow over her hand, then tucking it in the crook of his arm and heading around to the drivers side of the car.

'We thought you might be coming here when we learned of whom you picked up near the hotel." He released Charli's hand and stepped forward to greet Ryan.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Sargeant Fortier. It's been a long time since I had the pleasure of meeting a Detatchment shooter face to face.." Those keen brown eyes might have faded over the years, but they were still the eyes of an operator.

Ryan returned a firm shake with Javier, and returned with a simple "Pleasure."

He wondered breifly who the secretary had met, wondering if it had been a combat deployment or otherwise. Something that could be discussed later.

Ryan's main focus at this point was still the intell, though he had hid it well when Charli asked him to shuck the shades. The Oakleys were something of a unique key to the Shooters. Custom made, based on the Half Jacket XLJs and then extensively modified, each pair belonged, in both possesion and serial number, to a single Shooter. Other branches had some of the famed sunglass maker's more commercially available military optics, but the ones now hanging from Ryan's pocket were not of that ilk.

They had done well in one of the many jobs needed, hiding emotion. While Ryan hadn't exactly been bawling in the car, nor furiously focusing, the sunglasses added an aire of mystery to his face. Keeping his eye's hidden, they also allowed him to steal glances of Charli as they drove. Now, however, he would have to be a might bit more careful.

Mount Royal covered far more than just the rolling hilltop the palace itself occupied and they had been sent to one of the side courtyards. Javier led the pair back into the building wing that he'd come out of.

"Lord Kincannon is still here, but not for much longer. He delayed his departure when he was advised you were headed this way." Javier commented as the trio rode down in an elevator whos smooth effeciency did not match its graciously antique appearance.

The room that it opened in two was beyond high tech, it was a miniature war room, the walls comprised of ultra high resolution screens and the air hummed with the muted buzz of ongoing operations. Discrete security stood unobtrusively in protected but advantageously placed positions.

As they exited Sinjin, in formal wear turned from the group he had been listening to and made his way over to where Javier had stopped short of intruding.

His look at Ryan was sharp, but not unkind. "So you want to know more Ryan, or are you running from your own government? You are really in deep kimchee with them. You're expendable, inconvienient, and a danger. one they won't hesitate to eliminate."

Entering the room, Ryan ignored the tech, and quickly made out the gaurds he could from his angle. A quick look and he noted the security cammeras as well.

So you want to know more Ryan, or are you running from your own government? You are really in deep kimchee with them. You're expendable, inconvienient, and a danger. One they won't hesitate to eliminate.

Ryan half nodded, half shrugged.

"I count five right out, I'd say what, six more in better hiding? That makes eleven for little old me. I'm flattered."

Ryan paused, and went over the statement Sinjin offered. "Well, two outa seven, I guess that ain't to bad. Yes, I'm looking for more info. No, I'm not running. Not really at least. Probably pissed off some people to a massive extent, but unless they just try to drop a bomb on me, it would be damned hard to find a hit team capable of comming after me to do so. And even if they did want to take me out, I have enough good friends that can pull some strings to commute a sentance, so to speak. Expendable? Hardly. Inconvienient? Most likely. Dangerous? Well, I can kill pretty much anyone they send after me unless they thought real long and hard about it, so I'd go with a Yes. Now, elimination? Doubt it. I'm more value to them alive."

Ryan paused for another moment, and took another good look around the room. It was force of habit, and not much else. Just analyzing and arguing, measuring mental angles, noting where all the exits were, so to speak.

"So yeah. I guess it would be info."

Charli had hung back a step, taking in the command and controll rom with wide eyes. She'd never seen anything like it outside the movies and was no little astounded at being allowed into such a place. She ahd kinda thought that such places were reseved for high muckety mucks and super secret agents. And she knew that she wsn't either, and she felt distinctly out of her element. Ryan however didn't bat an eye las did he? Wonder at how many times he's been into places like this.

She had always assumed that allo governments were like the one that had hunted she and her mother all her life and before. Lieing, treacherous, and basicaly stupid entities that were just out for those that were the shadowy 'They'. But getting a little close to those who governed Tanaara ahd changed her preconcieved notions. Yes they had laws she didn't agree with, and the decidedly odd power structure that appeared, from the outside, as nothing short of a dictatorship drapped in the trappings of a monarchy, but she had found that the vast majority of those in the Tanaaran government were good and honourable people working hard for what they beleived was for the good of the people. And one very mitigating thing, in her estimation - the bureaurcracy was kept as small as possible and as heavily leashed as possible. That she definitely liked.

Ryans reply brought her out of her reverie.

So yeah. I guess it would be info."

Sinjin smiled at Ryans denial that he was most likely already listed as dead by the Imitoran government, or at least a portion of it. "Javier, Ryan has my direct permission to view and study every thing we have, and " He looked back at Ryan "If you'll consent to leaving your weapons at the door of the suite, I think I can convince Darren to talk with you. He may want Charli with you." He looked inquireingly over at Charli who nodded, her expression serious.

Ryan nodded. "Well, only if I get to see the big map."

He reached down to his hip, and tugged the Glock out of its holster. First he released the magazine, then yanked back the slide. The single ten millimeter round sailed out, and landed with an awkward grace in Ryan's hand. He clicked it back into the magazine, and handed both to Sinjin. The intell agent's eyes did not cease. Begrudginly, he reached to his right pocket, and pulled out the Emerson CQC-15, and handed it over at well.

"I can't just disconnect my arms, legs, and head, so we'll just have to go with trust on that. Besides, we were all at that cafe. If I wanted him dead, it would have already happened."

"I know that Ryan, and yes if you had really wanted Darren would be dead. But then again so would you." Sinjin handed the Imitoran back the knife, not holding on to the knife when Ryan reached for it but releasing it promptly."You aren't your father, but you are still a good man Ryan Chaffin Fortier." His eyes were serious, and the way his tone had inflected the words made sure that Ryan knew that the Tanaarans knew a lot - a whole lot- about Ryan's background. But then again Tanaaran Ingettegence was notorious for its thoroughness and the vast amount of data they brought in and made very good use of.

He nodded at Javier and the secretary moved off briskly but without rushing. "You want to see the big map while Javier see if Darren is willing to see you? Come right over here. What scale did you want?"

He wasved Ryan and Charli over to what looked to be a circular stand, some sixty inches wide and rising to about forty inches off the floor. He nodded to a young man standing at a podium type station a few feet away and the mans hands danced over a concealed keyboard.

An incredibly detailed hologram sprang into being, earht appearing to hang in mid air, the space about it dark save where miniature ships, orbital haibtats, space stations, construction yards where even smaller vaccum suited figures worked on building more starcraft, and beyond that the moon with it's jewel bright speckling of the bases belonging to various natations and corporations. One orbital in particular shimmered brightly and it was 'tethered' to the earth below by the gleaming strands of a Beanstalk.

Sinjin waved his hand at it. "Thats ours...with a lot of help from the Empire. Havew you ever been into space Ryan?" His question was semi rehetorical, he knew Ryan's status on that. "It's so beautiful up there, the earth is. No such things as national boundries, just one blue jewel. When Mercy abdicates, when Rob is ready, and my oaths are filled, I...my family, is heading out there. We're going to do the whole Heinlien's 'Rolling Stone' thing, but larger, not just confinded to our solar system." Sinjin wasn't old, but at that moment he sounded about eighteen again, unburdened, unfettered and looking to the future.

Ryan offered a slight nod, and accepted the Emerson, slipping it into his pocket.

He watched the holographic display unfold, and chuckled. "I was actually hoping for George C. Scott and maybe some B-52s, but this works as well."

He listened to Sinjin speak about space, travel, and the like. Ryan shifted his weight back to observe the hologram, as space unfolded.

Have you ever been into Space, Ryan?

"Nah, I like to do my work firmly planted on Terra Firma. Not a huge fan of leaving the ground lest I have to. Gravity and all. Listen, this is nice, really. I have my fun little dreams too that keep me going when I just want to go blow my CO's head open for being your standard IWFS weenie whose combat expierence consists of walking on to the field after everyone's died. But when can I see Darren? I'd like to solve this little situation we seem to have found ourselves in, and ASAP, if possible."

Sinjins eye's went hooded. He should have known better than to open up to an Imitoran. They had no souls. "No longer than it takes for Javier to inquire if Darren will see you, and for you to be escorted there. In the meantime would you care to read the print outs? I know we left the original set with you but I don't think you bothered to read them."

Ryan's comment drew Charli away from her own admiration of the holographs incredible details. She had felt that as if she looked close enough at the spacesuited men she could have seen their faces.

His rudeness took her aback. Sinjin had just sent Javier to set it up, it hadn't even been five minutes. And given the immensity of the palace that wasn't that long. She shook her head and frowned at Ryan behind his back. No his personality wasn't much like his fathers at at all. Sinjin was the one granting favors here, the one holding the power cards and Ryan was being nothing more than an ass.

Ryan shrugged. "I'm just looking at it from a logical perspective."

He relaxed his shoulders, glancing back to the map in front of him.

"See, I look at it this way. It took us no more than a minute to go from the ground floor to here. Maybe one oh five tops. Right? And Darren is your new favorite protection mark. So, as I see it, its been, oh, five minutes or so since Javier went to go look for Darren. I'll give him the benifit of the doubt, and say it took a minute thirty to get to what ever level Darren should be on. That gives him a minute thirty to get back down, so two to find Darren. Too little time you think? Well, if I was gonna protect Darren, I know I wouldn't really let him out of my sight. If he wanted to go exploring, fine, by all means, but god knows we'll have trailers in case someone decides to get cute and go after him again. That, and you have this fun little holomap here that basically shows the face of some space man, but your gonna tell me you can't pinpoint Darren? C'Mon, the fabled Tanaaran intell agency needs more than five minutes to find someone on their own campus? You can't really expect me to believe that."

Ryan stopped and looked back at the map. "Thanks for the guided tour, by the way."

Thanks for the guided tour, by the way."

"You are welcome. And have you stoped to think that Darren may need some convinceing to meet with you." Sinjin subvocalised a command to link him into the feed for a moment. He didn't keep it on normally, it was too confusing unless one concentrated,, like listening to a hundred cell phones at once, trying to sort out the one you specifically wished. His eyes were a little distant as he filtered out the streams he didn't want.

"Darren is insisting that IF he meets with you it's going to be one of the libraries. You see yes I could have contacted him via our communications network, but when requestiong a favor it is far politer to ask it in person. And Darrens wereabouts are known at all times, and he is as protected as His Royal Highness RObert Ryan is. And just as discretely. Again our legendary courtesy, trying to make him feel as comfortable as possible. We take hospitality very seriously here in Tanaara."

He listened for a second longer. "If you'll come with me I'll take you up to the library. I hope you won't hold it against us if we have refreshments waiting, or is that too decadent and useless for your Intimoran sensibilities?"

Sinjin didn't care what Ryan thought, the young Imitoran having made a poor impression on him far too many times for his opinion to matter. He'd held out the hand of friendship, had set aside the barriers of formality and had his overtures belittled. He was through giving any more breaks to the son of a man he'd admired. For now on Ryan got what he deserved, which was damned little at the moment.

He led Ryan and Charli over to another elevator, this one in an alcove they hadn't been able to see into before. "Ms. Hardcastle will be waiting when you arrive. Charli have a good weekend, I won't be back for three or four days, the regional conference shouldn't take much longer than that. Sergeant Fortier, I hope you find the information to be what you need."

And Darren's whereabouts are known at all times, and he his protected as His Royal Highness Rob Ryan is.

"Well then, lets hope his Royal Highness doesn't use the pisser in any internet cafes."

Ryan followed over to the elevator, sliding inside once the door opened.

If you'll come with me I'll take you up to the library. I hope you won't hold it against us if we have refreshments waiting, or is that too decadent and useless for your Intimoran sensibilities? Ms. Hardcastle will be waiting when you arrive. Charli have a good weekend, I won't be back for three or four days, the regional conference shouldn't take much longer than that. Sergeant Fortier, I hope you find the information to be what you need.

"I already ate breakfast," Ryan returned. "And don't worry, I'm sure I'll get all the info I need." He offered a polite smile, be it sincere or not, and began formulating exactly what he would ask Darren.

Sinjin and Charli hugged lightly as the elevator doors opened to reveal an elegantly appointed elevator cab. "Have fuin Sinjin and give my love to Khadri, Robin and Kazuma" Charli made her goodbyes with a warm smile for her friend.

Once Charli and Ryan had entered and the door closed Charli whirled on ther Imirotan. She started to speak, then bit her lip.

She wanted to take him to task, but it wasn't her right. However she decided she didn't care if it was her right or not... 'You know you are as big an ass as your father could be. Or are you overcompensating for a sudden inferority complex? But she knew that they were certainly being observed. She'd have it out with him in private, she found herself oddly reluctant to embarrass him. Charli was beginning to believe that little could embarrass him. No that's not right you are only embarrassed if you let yourself be. But he's so mannerless. Men! I just don't understand them. She laughed wryly in the privacy of ther thoughts How can I? Mom you loved me a lot, taught me alot, but guys? You left them a compelete blank. He's going to be gone soon, so it's not like I have to worry about anything happening That was an oddly discouraging thought.

She stood in awkward silence as the elevator sped upward and the door opened on to a wide hallway that was even nicer than the exquisitely decorated elevator. A trim woman of middle years in a tastefull pantsuit of deep forest green waited for them.

Sergeant Fortier, Miss Firewalker, the library is this way." She nodded then turned to lead the way.

Ryan nodded as the elevator closed, and allowed himself to relax, leaning back against the wall. He felt off without the Glock, or any firearm, but he had one of those sneaky feelings far back in his head he'd been dealing with one soon.

He didn't comment on the recent meeting. While Sinjin and Charli may have found his attitude rude and uncalled for, what they most likely failed to realise was that it, in an odd Imitoran sort of way, showed a level of respect. If Ryan hadn't respected Sinjin as an opponent, then he simply would have ignored him untill he was able to meet with Darren. The only problem durring the show was his inability to keep an eye on Charli, be it both watchful and admiring, and generally upsetting her. He had his own reasons for that.

As they elevator doors opened and they were greeted, Ryan allowed Charli to step forward first.

"Excellent," he responded with a half smile, and his hand dropped back down to his pocket, pinching the frames of the Oakleys.

Just a minute into the past or so...Teleportation is so useful

Before the doors of the elevator opened a butler was carrying Ryan's Glock and magazine into the library. "Mister Winston, Lord Kincannon had this sent up. He requests that you decide wether Mister Fortier deserves this back when he leaves."

He's been fowlloed by footmen bringing in trays of refreshments, coffee and assortged fingerfoods, which they arranged on one of the side tables before leaving as quietly and quickly as they had come.

~~~~~

Ms Hardcastle nodded and pivoted lithely on her heel and began leading the pair to the library. It was nearly a minute's walk through broad hallways graced with art work that rivaled the collection of the House of Windsor in quality if not in quanity. The arcdhictects that had designed the Palace at Mont Royal had taken in security's needs as much as they had taken into account the fact that the Palace was both the seat of government and Royal residence. It had taken five years to build and managed to blend elegant stateliness with welcoming warmness. Some how they'd managed to embody Tanaara's intrinsicly warrior soul with their deep reverence for hospitality.

"The library is just ahead." Ms Hardcastle comment as they made one last turn, then she was stopping short, as she was intercepted by a tall, strikingly beautiful woman with cafe aulait skin and deep amber gold hair swirling about her shoulders.

"Lady Phaedra, I didn't realize that Lady di' Racul was still here." Ms. Hardcastle began, but the woman waved her to silence. "The Direector sent me to invite Sergeant Fortier to lunch."

She looked at Ryan, her smile was warm enough but there was an air challenge about her that men never failled to find intriguings. The current Director of Tanaaran Intellegence chose her personal aides as much for their beauty and seductive abilities as she did for their brains. Each and every one of them was a certified geniius, and each and every one of them made the iconic Bond girls look second rate. And Lady di' Racul, it was said with much truth,outstripped all of them.

"Sergeant Fortier it is such a pleasure to meet you. I'm Phaedra, aide to the Director of Intelligence. Chantal, Lady di' Racul, sends her greetings and greatly wishes to make your aquaintence. She asked me to meet you and invite you to luncheon at her estate." Lady Phaedra (http://www.atddm.com/elle3.jpg) knew how to use her purrring voice to best advantage, and she was also skilled at making any one she turned her attention on feel that they were the only one she was aware of. She enjoyed the company of men and knew well how to catch their interest and keep it.

Winston looked at the Glock and magazine. He hardly knew the weapon at all, nothing truely beyond what qualification courses he had taken. "Uh, well, we'll see how the meeting goes first."

He really did fear Ryan. Not because of what Ryan was as a person, but who Ryan was as a Soldier, and what he had to have done to get there. The Detachment wasn't on order of letting in the sensative types who listened to reason and understood compassion. They were well trained killers, and, to Darren, nothing more than such. He had enough of a problem even meeting with Ryan, let alone being in the same building with him. Unless, of course, he had the obvious advantage.

"Yeah, lets just wait to see how the meeting goes, and then we can make that call."
__

Ryan came to a quick halt at the arrival of the new woman. They just keep comming and going, he chuckled to himself.

"Lady Phaedra, its a pleasure, really," Ryan started, "but I'm a little busy at the moment. Need to handle something of a generally pressing nature back at home. Life and death and such."

Ryan could feel her presence, feel her making herself available only to him. They were, as far as anyone outside was concerned, the only two in the room. However, Ryan was not one to be suprised by women making themselves wholy available to him. He had been in enough bars, and when in the Pathfinders dropped enough war stories, to learn how to make women melt into him. And he could tell the game.

He knew it well. She would intrigue him, seduce him, and get him to devulge information, or switch sides. He had seen it before, and he would probably see it again. Though the purr in the voice was indeed nice.

"I'll tell ya what," he countered, non-chalauntly, "once we get this situation on my end all calm and settled, I'll take you up on that lunch offer. I'm sure plenty of us will benifit with meeting with Lady di 'Racul."

His smile was either polite, but not sincere, or sincere but not polite, either of the two being applicable. "Mrs. Hardcastle, I believe you were leading us to the library?" he asked, both sincere and polite this time.

As they started back on their path, Ryan turned, flicking off his Oakleys, and looking Lady Phaedra dead in the eyes. His own green fade to royal blue meet Phaedra's dark chocolate eyes. "Oh, and Lady Phaedra, its Master Sergeant."

Ms. Hardcastle gave Ryan an equally polite and sincere smile in return as they started off. "Certainly Master Sergeant Fortier, it's just up ahead" Was her tone just a shade too merry?

Lady Phaedra returned his look with a cooly assessing one of her own as their eyes met. "I'll convery your regrets to Lady di'Racul and the thought that we might meet after this incident is concluded. I am sure she is willing to wait. Have a pleasant day."

She waited until Ryan had turned back, and Charli was moving past her before putting a hand on Charlies arm, stopping her. They exchaned a few low voiced words that could not be overheard by Ryan as he folloowed Ms. Hardcastle.

Charli who had waited quietly her face noncommital as Ryan and Lady Phaedra spoke, now flushed faintly and followed slowly after the other two.

Less than thrity feet down Ms. Hardcastle reached the library door and after tapping twice pushed the heady but perfectly counterweighted door opne, announcing as she stepped in "Mister Winston, Master Sergeant Fortier and Miss Firewalker are here to see you." She located Darren with her eyes and waited for him to respond, before stepping aside to allow Ryan to enter.

She looked back at Charli, noticing that she hadn't caught up and flashed her a discretely sympathetic look. She'd gotten to know Charli a little and liked her. She didn't like Lady Phaedra one bit. Charli gave her a faint smile and hurried to the door.

Once both Ryan and Charli had entered Ms. Hardcastle closed the door behind them.

Ryan thanked Mrs. Hardcastle, and waited for Charli to step in with him.

Darren nodded, eyeing Fortier with a harsh stare. He had his chance now, with the guards off to the side, but he wanted to wait till Ryan was closer.

"Darren, excellent, just the person I want to see," Ryan said, Oakley’s back on. It was intimidation, more than anything. Not being able to see his eyes made it much harder for Darren to read Ryan, figure out what was going on. And it was, for Darren at least, working.

"What do you want with me?" he demanded in return.

"Oh, nothing much. Just information."

"No." Darren's voice was terse, harsh, and final.

"Now, Darren, lets not play this game. You obviously have no problem slipping it out, so why not just tell me what you ran with?"

Darren shook his head. "I know what you’re trying to do. You want to get the information out of me before you go back, so you can tell your superiors what you saw. Layout of the mansion, my security detail, everything. Then they can figure out if it's worth getting involved, to send a full team to take me down, and go after my friends. But I won’t let you."

Darren moved with surprising speed, his hand snatching around to the small of his back where a Mossad holster held his own compact Glock. If this Fortier can kill, so can I, he thought, bringing the gun around. It was just like range qualification. But in qualification, there wasn't a human target, well trained and ready for such an action.

While the world began to flare at violent speeds for Darren, it slowed for Ryan. In the hundredths of a second that Darren moved, he quickly began assessing his options, and deciding on the appropriate response. The Emerson? Nah. Reversal on the Glock? No. Just a simple disarm and lock movement.

In the time it took Darren to get his arm halfway back around, Ryan had already stepped in, and snatched Darren's left arm, pulling the ICIA computer specialist towards him. He sidestepped, and let Darren go past, pulling his left arm up and around. Darren started to bend forward, Ryan having complete control of him from the shoulders down. With a last ditch effort of success, Darren maneuvered his arm back around, trying to get the Glock at Ryan. However, Ryan simply reached up with his free hand, grabbed the polymer pistol, and twisted it out of Darren’s hand. He tossed it to the ground in a rather unceremonious fashion, and leaned in close to Darren.

His lips a mere breath from Darren’s, he didn’t so much as speak as give a harsh, hard whisper, barely audible to anyone a more than an arms length away.

“Listen to me bro. I have killed far more people that I have time to count before I met you, and will most likely kill twice as many beyond this. Do not think that I will not hesitate to end your life right here for trying to play this game. Your outa your pay grade kid, and I don’t take kindly to it. Disco?”

Darren nodded, fearing that in the next few seconds, he would take his last breath. The entire action, from his first move towards the pistol to the last of Ryan’s words had taken all of twenty seconds, maybe thirty. To both Darren and Ryan, it had felt like half an hour, but for two different reasons.

However, to Darren’s surprise, Ryan released his grip, bent forward to grab the Glock, and tossed the pistol back to Darren. The computer programmer just put it down on a near by table. “So what do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

Darren started from the beginning, what he saw on the computer screen, what he had read but not been able to fully gather on the flash drive, the attack on his friend, and all the way up to the past few seconds, explaining his most recent actions. Ryan was oddly calm as Darren stated, his voice shaky, that he thought he could protect his friends by killing the soldier. Where most people would be mortified that someone wanted them dead, Ryan just shrugged. After all, as the Sicilians say, its just business.

“Ok. So what do you suggest?” Ryan asked, surprising Darren even more.

Darren looked on, confused. “What do you mean?”

Ryan sighed. “Well, you’re the ICIA on site. Your station chief is being loaded onto the back of an IAF MC-130 by now, which leaves two secretaries and a signals and communications specialist at the embassy.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“Well, its pretty simple. They threatened my mom. No one fucks with my mom. No one who wants to keep their body in working order, or maybe their throat within fifteen feet of where it was when they were born. So, as far as I’m concerned, you’re the ranked ICIA operative on site, and my specific orders were to report to the ICIA ranking operative on site for orders. So,” Ryan concluded, “what do you suggest?”

Darren looked at Charli, clearly confused.

Charli had started moving the moment Ryan had, but while her reflexes were better than merely 'better than good', they hadn't been honed like his had. Her hands glowed with lethal heat as she began to take the three large steps that would be needed to touch Ryan. She'd hung back, fighing within herself to ignore the hurtful, but so very true words of Lady Phaedra; and that, she knew in a flash meant she had failed.

No it hadn't taken even twenty seconds and Charli barely managed to stop herself before coming in contact with Ryan. He never saw her hands and in the wink of an eye the heat vanished as Ryan released Darren and the two men stepped apart. The rip inside her got bigger though and the staggering pain was almost more than she could keep off her face.

With a shakiness that she could barely control, she made it over to one of the lounge charis near the side board of refreshemnts. Charli paid little attention to Darren's story; much like a cat she had always known to hide her hurts, to never appear weak. And her ego had takne a bruiseing enough yesterday, and like the racoon like circles about her eyes, was still very sensitive.

The tail end of the Imitoran's conversation did manage to drw her out of her efforts, though she still felt so wrong inside. She looked up to find Darren looking at her confusion evident in his eyes.

"I think he's found an out. Is it congenital, or beaten in that Imitorans below a certain age have to follow orders with out thought or hesitation?" IT came out far worse than she meant it too, but frankly she didn't care. Between the physical pain and the emotional pain all she wanted to do was go hide and let the universe decided if she lived or died.

"He has to follow orders. You, technically fill those orders, even if it violates the spirit of those orders from here to Samhain. He's yours to command" Her voice was merely weary now. "And I don't know wether any would say congratulations or wish you much luck."

She understood completely where Ryan was coming from concerning his mom. She felt the same way about hers and she was seven years gone.

Darren nodded, sort of.

"I'd say congratulations, but thats just me," Ryan offered. "Think about it. Your own personal Shooter."

Ryan's humor didn't help Darren, but it did give him a smile. "Well, you posed the question, what do you think?"

Ryan shrugged. "If I were you, I'd tell me to take you and maybe Charli here back to Imitora, kill the guys who sent me after you, exonorate your name, and maybe watch your back for a bit."

"Then," Darren said, "that is what we wont do."

Ryan shrugged. "Guess thats why your the good guy here."

"Listen, Ryan, I just need some time to figure this out. The ICIA Leadership Practicum course isn't exactly teaching in the ways of leading black ops and stuff like that." He looked over at Charli, who seemed out of it. That was it.

"Ryan, I need this time to think, so I want you to watch out for us. You know exactly what another strike team would try to do, so you know what to look out for. After all, I've never seen a protection detail as good as the Tanaarans, and you obviously got past them to me fine. So you know how to stop yourself."

Ryan nodded. "Yeah. Well, that is of course at the behest of the Tanaraans," he responded, his shaded eyes crossing the room to Charli. "If they say its gravy, then we are disco."

Darren looked at Charli. "Do you think its a good idea?"

"He got by me, no the Tanaaran's I'm no military hotsho, or super secret agent. And my inclination is more along the lines of Ryans, kill them all and let the universe sort them out." Charli stopped shor looking rather aghast as what she'd just said. "Oh boy I think my filters just crashed."

She sat silent for a second, mortified, then spoke hesitantly at first , then firmly on the last." You're probably right Darren, and having Ryan protecting you is a good idea. I'm not really trained for it and obviously not very good at it."

Before she could speak further, there was a firm tap on the door, and Daveed looked in "Darren, sorry to interupt, but I need to speak to Charli for a moment." His look at Charli made it an order, and while his tone was polite it was obvious that while he regretted having to barge in on Darren's meeting, it ws something important enough that the rudeness didn't matter.

Keen blue eyse watched Charli very intently as she stood and headed across the room.

"I like the way she thinks," Ryan smirked, hearing Charli's last comment. He watched her walk away, his eyes never leaving her from behind the Oakleys.

"I don't get you," Darren said, looking at Ryan once they were alone. "One minute you want to kill me, the next your offering to protect me."

"I didn't offer anything. You asked, I'm providing."

"You know what I mean. Whats the deal?"

"Lets just say that we all have motivations for everything we do."

"You know they are wrong."

"Darren," Ryan said, pushing himself off the wall he had been leaning against, and pulling off the Oakleys, "I don't know anything. I'm just a Master Sergeant. My pay grade doesn't let me see any of the good stuff. I have my resons, as you have yours."

Darren nodded. "Whose your mom?"

"Captain Christin Allicia Chaffin, Imitora Navy. She's a pilot, flies F/A-18I Yellow Jackets, and was a test pilot on the Archangelsk program."

Darren nodded. "I've heard of her, read it in the papers. Gonna be one of the first women to reach flag rank in the Navy."

Ryan nodded.

"If you help me, wont that make them go after her even more?"

"Not if they play the game the way I think they will. They are gonna want me back. Debreif me on what I saw. Like you said, I've basically had a guided tour of your detail, general idea of where your staying for now. Things like that. They know that if they really try to take her down, then I'm gonna go back and crack some skulls. If I stay here, they have to work me out."

"What if that plan back fires?"

"Then I gotta go crack some skulls."

"Charli you are hurting yourself. You medalert went off and you haven't bothered."

Charli cut him off

"Daveed, I know. I'm all right. I just need to get some rest and I'll be cool. If need be I can have you or someone get me back to Sian. She's got more expereince with exactly what I am that you all do here. Psionics just aren't exactly the same as out and out mutants." Charli was close to tears behind the shades hiding her eyes, and she couldn't keep a break out of her voice. "and unless you can do time travel and make it so I'd never been born, there's nothing to be done for me. Just drop it Daveed." She said wearily, her former despondence returning with a vengance.

The tall Tenerezu looked at her, looked below the surface and judged accurately. "Nope you can't run and hide from this, but if you'll take these and promise me that you will get some rest asap, I'll let it drop for now." He produced a prescription bottle with five large capsules in it. "Three very shortly and the last two later this evening. And if you satart to feel worse , call me and I'll port you to Sian myself." Stern eyed he watched while Charli pocketed the bottle and turned to head back in.

Before she could leave however he gave her a gentle hug, and whispered "Follow you heart, not your head." then waited before she'd closed the door behind her before leaving. He would keep his own sort of eye on her.

"So," Darren asked. "You think you have the training to keep me alive?"

Ryan looked at Darren hard and dead pan. In a flat voice, empty of sarcasam and wit, he shrugged. "No. But I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night."

For the first time that day, Darren laughed.
_

Freedom. Freedom from paper work, the constraints of leadership, the need to counsel everyone and everything on any little qualm or problem. Freedom to ignore every little issue that she had to deal with.

The twin turbofans of the F/A-18I Yellow Jacket pushed the fighter along at a steady rate of speed, quietly roaring through the clear blue open skies, somewhere outside of that mythical fifteen killometer range that define boundries. It moved with grace and ease as the pilot, an expert by all means, manipulated the stick and throttle.

Capt. Christin 'Fireball' Chaffin eased the fighter over into a lazy dive, pulling the nose back around towards her home ship. She was clear of thought, working purely on training and skill. She had seen little combat as of late, her age, not rank, keeping her out of the way of incomming. However, she commanded a carrier, and therefore one of the most important ships in the battle group. And her rank, and expierience as a pilot, meant she could take up any airplane she wanted, when she wanted.

It was as she nosed around that another fighter, a similar F/A-18I, slipped up next to her. This one, however, carried the Hound's Teeth, the code for a mix of heat seaking, LIDAR, and RADAR guided air to air missles. She took pause, but leveled out.

"Hey Fireball, hows it flying?"

Christin nodded at one of her pilots' voice, knowing it well.

"Hey Bunny Rabbit. Not bad. Whats the deal? On patroll?"

"Nope. Dunno why, they just sent me up with the teeth. Some guys down on the boat wanna talk to you. Look all official and what not."

Christin dipped her wing, slipping in behind the other Yellow Jacket. "Alright Rabbit, lead the way."

Charli slipped back inside to hear Darren laughing and decided that what ever the two Imitoran's had worked out between themselves was to some extent good. She figured she was two inches away from having some one come down her that she couldn't bully and bluuf though for the life of her she couldn't figure out who that would be. It was just a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that made the pain she was busy ignoring worse.

"It looks like you all are good to go then?" Charli asked, wanting to make her escape as soon as possible.


~~~~~

"Sinjin, she is right, no one here really knows much about out and out mutations of her type. Her mother wasz a forced mutation, but Charlene is a fully natural mutation. And while if she were a Tanaaran citizen there might be some allowance for taking into custody for medical treatement, she's not a citizen. And second off that violates Tanaara's Right to Die laws. Though I honestly have to say I don't think that is her intention, so that nullifies that."

Daveed shook his head, frowning into the vidcom. "She's tired, and the injury she took at Eagles Roost' is totally reopened, but Other than putting her in a psi stasis, I'm not sure how to deal with it."

Sinjin frowned and stamped on his anger. "Watch her like a hawk Daveed, and I'll have her taken in on my authority rather than see her die for sheer stubbornness."

It looks like you all are good to go then?

Ryan nodded. "Yeah. I know some people would most likely want us to stay here with a bunch of big men with big guns, but I'm saying nix that. Too many people I don't know, and haven't seen kill. I don't know how they operate, and how they would respond."

Darren was about to dispute that notion, and motion to stay here, but he soon realized that Ryan was the professional, not he, and that leaving may be a better idea.

"I also can't patroll this place easily. I need something better to watch over, somewhere small. Two bed rooms, a living room, and a kitchen. Not big ones either, small. Something we can move around fast. No little hiding places, either. Some people like them, I don't. Most of them offer a back to the wall premise. I want to be able to move."

Darren nodded. "As long as it has net access, I'm happy."

"Negatory. Ground phones only. Using hardlines. This way, they can't trace a net connection, and they can't triangulate on a cell phone call." Of course, a triangulation would require monitering every phone call, or at least likely numbers. And Ryan did plan on calling at least one likely number. He would have to.

"So," Darren started, "where does that leave us?"

"We have a safe house out by the embassy, thats a hella no go though. I think either the hotel, or maybe a private house. Somewhere away from this city."

Darren nodded. "That it?"

"Almost. I'm gonna need my guns back."

Darren nodded, hesitantly at this last statement.

You could always just use my place, Charli offered.

Ryan paused. "That works too. Yo ualready know the layout, and I can learn it. Faster that way."

"I'll tell Sinjin, then," Darren responded.

Within minutes Darren had used the Montgaurd communications set up to contact Sinjin, and advise him of the plan. Then, agains hesitantly, he allowed Ryan to talk directly over the video phone.

"Nice webcam. I told Darren this, and I'm gonna tell it to you. You want me to protect him, I need my guns back. The Glock 22 and I brought in an MP5/10I. If you don't have the sub gun, then I'm gonna need some armory access to pick out something nice."

"Where are you going?" Sinjin asked, his tone and eyes cold and closed.

"My place" Charli spoke up, then stepped back to let them finsih their discussion.

Sinjins face changed perceptably, and his agreement came swiftly "You can have your guns back, and the run of the armory here on the palace grounds before you leave. And you'll need something capable of off road. By the time you're through in the armory, and ready to go there will be a vehicle ready to go. Charli when was the last time you did a grocery run?"

"Too long ago Sinjin, pack us up some supplies." Charlie called from where she had sat back down.

Sinjin nodded and looked back at Ryan. "Anything special that you want?"

Ryan shrugged. "I'm not a picky eater, and my mom taught me to cook, so I can handle pretty much anything. Vehicle wise, wont consider anything other than a Land Rover for off roading. I don't care what the American's say, the Jeeps and Hummers were made for rough roads, the Rovers were made for no roads."

Ryan's mother had a Land Rover, and despite the ultra luxurious interior, many a day had gone by when off roading he had shown a Hummer a thing or two. Rock crawling was different, but even then he could still pull it off in the British SUV.

"I'm also gonna need hurricane tape, or at least one hundred mile and hour tape. Some magnetic strips, few yards worth of wiring, good batteries. Maybe some CCTVs, motion sensor lights."

He contimplated perimeter guns, but those would be a bit over kill. But when dealing with assasins, one could never be to carefull. Of course, he didn't plan on sleeping much, so he wouldn't need those.

"Also, might need some decent caffine pills, nothing to hard, just enough to take the edge off. Gonna need at least a few changes of clothes for me and Darren, and if you have a library or book store around, maybe some Clancy, Brown, and Coonts novels to kill some time."

Ryan left out any other equipment, he assumed that Charli, having lived in the area, would have any needed extras on hand. She didn't seem to be the type of incompitent person who would move somewhere with nothing she needed. And that was more than mildly attractive. It was a problem with many Imitoran girls, far to high maitenence, and it was down right annoying at times.

But that was a thought for another time. Now, Ryan observed the weapons lay out in front of him. Grabbing an empty duffle bag, it was all but tempted to offer Sinjin a decent gratuitee. The Special Warfare center had an impressive armory and weapons cache, but it was all mangled and man handled by the most important men in any military: Clerks. Only officers were given full unrestricted access. Except for his personal CAR-68, every weapon had to be checked out, logged, and signed for.

He began grabbing boxes of ten millimeter hollowpoints for the Glock and MP5/10I, when he noticed some other goodies. A cut down Remington 870 with a reflex sight went into the bag along with a few boxes of shells. Then a couple of wraps of cord, and a handfull of White Phospherous grenades went into the bag. It strained against the zipper, but closed, and Ryan shoulered the strap.

"Ya know, I could also use a case of beer."

"Any particular brand? I can get you most Imitoran brands." Sinjin chuckled, his attitude toward the younger man having thawed some what. Books were a standard part of any package he put together for Charli, and there'd be plenty by those authors for them to read.

Once it looked as if Ryan had finished making his choices, Charli and Darren not having joined the two at the armory he looked at Ryan seriously "You're job is to watch Darren, but if you'd keep an eye on Charle, I'd appreciate it."

He sighed and went on unhappy at speaking of a friends private concerns, but far too worried to let that stop him. "She hurt herself a couple months back, and the damage hasn't healed. She's hurting and at risk right now, and too damn stubborn for her own good."

Ryan nodded at Sinjin's request. "I'll take care of her while we're out there. Shouldn't be too long, just need to wait till the military declares me dead officially, which means they just don't care. Might take a few days more or so, maybe a week or two, but no more than that."

Ryan laid the duffle on top of the Land Rover that had been made available. It wasn't the old off road legend, a Defender 110, but a Land Rover was indeed a Land Rover. This specific model was the new, boxier LR3, fully loaded with all the amenities, as well as more than prepared to go where most wheels aparati failed to manage. Ryan nodded with a smug grin. The black SUV was perfect for what he needed.

He tugged the duffle off his shoulder, and dropped it on the hood of the truck, unzipping it and giving its contents one last good look.

"One forty five caliber automatic, two boxes ammunition, four days concentrated emergency rations, one drug issue containing antibiotics, morphine, vitamin pills, pep pills, sleeping pills, tranquilizer pills, one miniature combination Ancient Imitoran phrase book and Bible, one hundred dollars in Imitoran Credits, one hundred dollars in gold, nine packs of chewing gum, one issue of prophylactics, three lipsticks, three pair of nylon stockings. Shoot, a fella could have a pretty good weekend in Northampton with all this stuff," Ryan chuckled.

Darren didn't get the joke.

Ryan zipped up the duffle, and gently placed it in the back of the LR3. The last thing he wanted right now was to set off a white phospherous grenade in the back of a SUV loaded with fuel and ammo.

"Oh, and its Kreigsmiener. German stlye, brewed in a small town outside Westhampton, run by a bunch of German emigrees. Nine point five percent alcohol content, but goes down just right. Good smooth taste, but its also brewed in accordance to the German purity laws, so I would expect that."

Oh, you only got the bsp" Sinjin commented with a grin as he waved a staffer off to go get a case of Kreigsmiener. "Now see if you were an officer you'd have the dsp, instead. Silk stockings, multiple condoms, chocolate instead of chewing gum, and perfume as well as lipsticks, plus coffee." He joked as Charli joined them and looked at the three men quizically.

"Do you all mind if I ride in the back seat? We've got about an hour before we go off road, and I'd like a nap" It galled her to admit any weakness, but the white ring of pain around her lips spoke louder than words. That, and the stiff way she was now moving, it was at odds with the fluid grace she'd shown earlier.

"Ryan I've got Tanaaran MilGrade stay awakes, they don't have the side effects that caffine has, and work longer, leaving you clear headed. Charli I've got a full grocery run packed in there as well, pretty much the same things we brought you up for the last week long visit we had."

Charli just nodded "Thaks Sinjin" and climbed into the back seat.

Ryan nodded.

"No problem." He got the directions from Charli before she headed to the back seat. He pocketed the pills, and slid into the driver's seat.

"Guess I'm riding shot gun," Darren commented, and jumped into the passenger's seat.

"Literally," Ryan said. After Darren had closed the door, and Ryan began pulling away from the garage, he slipped his Glock out of his holster, and handed it to Darren. "Anyone comes up to us, point and click."

Darren looked down at the black pistol. "You think I'd need to do that around here?"

"Don't matter if you need to or not, just be ready to do it. I know you haven't shot since the Academy and qualifications, so once we get out there, I'll show you how to shoot better with everything we got. Gravy?"

"Yeah," Darren said, absent minded, looking at the hand gun.

"Hey, pay attention. I can only do so much to keep you alive. But it really comes down to you watching for yourself. I'm not gonna be able to watch your back every second of the day. You're gonna need to get your head into the game."

Darren just nodded. Ryan expertly moved the LR on to the freeway, following the directions exactly has he had been given.

It was just before noon when they left the palace grounds having been directed out via another back road and then through the military reservation that lay 'behind' the land held by the crown. THe traffic was light on the east bound highway, which like all major Tanaaran highways was a five lane widely divided system. The divide in this region was nearly a hundred feet wide and heavily planted with pecan trees rising out of well groomed greensward. The midlane traffic was flowing at about ninety to a hundred with the inner lane a steady flow of high enders running well over one fifty.

Ryan drove steadily for nearly an hour and a half before he reached the first turn off that Charli had indicated. Winding though the hills on a secondary highway as they rose north of the river he passed through the resort town of Dyvelli and then took a tiertiary highway east another half hour. This higway was only three lanes either way and for the thirty minutes they were on it were the only travellers to be seen save for passing a trio of mounted rangers who riding along the wide clear cut zone beyond the shoulder. "The snow get pretty heavy here in the winter." had been Charli's explaination for the wide clear cut.

The rangers, mounted on stunning Mountainbreds, one of the equine breeds developed for their hardiness and agility over mountainous terrain, halted and watched as the Land Rover sped past. "Don't worry about them" Charli commented softly from the rear seat. "There are lots of horse patrols in here, this isn't really good terrain for even jeeps and such. My place is an inholding on crown lands so we won't have any neighbors so to speak of."

She directed Ryan to a side road that ended in a massive, but discrete gate - it was so well hidden that you had to almost be directly on it to see it and the wall houseing it. The wall was over twenty feet high and five feet thick. Stepping out Charli stretched and then punched a code in to an equally concealed keypad. The gate rolled open silently as heavy hydraulics pulled it aside.

The road wound back and forth up a hillside thick with ancient trrees, then down a broad valley bisected by a narrow but deep stream. At the widest point of the stream Charli directed Ryan to cross. "It's safer than it looks, the depth is only about two feet here."

The crossing didn't look any too safe, but had been designed to give that appearance - there was no obvious sign that it had ever been used as a fording place, or that there was any track at all. The trees were old, wide boled and in most places the underberush looked over grown and impenatrable. "Just cross the stream, and keep going up the hill side, I'm on the back side of the hills." It was about three miles across the valley and back up the hills on the far side.

Ryan followed the directions to the letter, wavering little as he pushed the LR into the stream. He had been in Discoveries and Defenders fording three to four feet of water, he was sure the LR3 could handle the terrain here. And, to his expection, the British SUV handled it perfectly. The drive was slightly slower than he would like, but he doubted the civilian version of the venerable British jeep could handle the same punishment the heavily reinforced models he had spent much time driving could.

He pulled around to the house, and took pause, looking at the structure. It blended in perfectly with the surrounding nature, and Ryan gave it an approving nod. "Very nice," he commented, and followed Charli's instructions down to the underground garage.

He found an open parking spot, and hopped out, walking around to the back of the LR, and grabbed the weapons duffle. Darren was mostly in amazement of the surrounding area, having never seen anything like it save for a camping trip out to Temple with some friends when he had been younger. The trip had been cut short when the sounds of automatic rifle fire had broken the night, and a few hours later, a group of very mean looking men in with very mean looking weapons and very mean looking NVGs ordered them in very mean voices they had to leave.

Darren would learn later that what he had been witness to was the very first class of the First Special Forces Group-Special Operations Application Detachment had been in their graduation games, a five day long combat exercise that pit Detachment shooters against decorated veterans from the Fifth Special Forces Group. Ryan had not been in that class, no, but he had been on the same operation after the Detachment moved all its training out to the Fort Lansing Special Warfare Center.

Once he came away from the awe and wonder, he moved back around to the LR to help Ryan, unloading the sacks of food. "How long ya think we'll be out here?" he asked, in no obvious hurry to leave.

Ryan shrugged, his eyes scanning the area, looking for anything that would give away snipers or other long range shooters. His own completion of the Detachment Sniper School had taught him not only how to hide, but what to look for when dealing with other snipers. "Not to long, maybe two or three weeks at most."

Darren nodded in silence. "You think anyone could find us out here?"

Ryan nodded again. "You'd be suprised," he replied, pulling the duffle strap over his shoulder, and taking four of the food sacks in arms. "The people looking for us are damned good at finding others. And taking them out. Thats why I got all that nice little spy stuff. Lock the house down nice, and keep them out. If Charli has any phone books and empty milk jugs, we'll start your shooting training later tonight."

Charli was proud of how she had rebuiilt the the remains into a modern three level house (http://www.atddm.com/ch1x.jpg), it had been, many years ago a Forest Ranger outpost station, but the construction of more modern sites had left it abandoned for years. Slowly it had fallen to near rubble, the only external signs being the concrete central pillar and parts of the over-watch booth and balcony.

Khadri and Sinjin had worked it so that nearly a square mile was deeded over to Charli, creating a safe place, an 'indwelling', with in the Crown Lands. They had even managed to introduce her to the alien Sentinels that were still used to act as guardians to certain lands. That was a meeting that Charli perfered not to think about but she knew that if she saw sign of them that she had better introduce Ryan and Darren to the alien creatures. Otherwise they'd be hunted implacably.

"But they'll have a hard time finding us, I think. This place isn't listed on any public property rolls, and we're well within Crown Lands, not something one tresspasses on easily." Charli helted her share of the grocery bags and a softsider case that Khadri had packed for her.

Leading the way up the spiral staircase they came to the first level, which had her craftsroom, office and a half bath. "It's all warmed by under floor hot water and each level has at least one fireplace." She commented as she kept on going up.

The next level was the main living area and kitchen, all added on to by the spacious baclony. The stairs continued to spiral up "There's two bedrooms up there, each with their own bath. Feel free to take which ever one you like, Ryan, Darren. I've got a futon out on the balcony"

The third level contained two comfortably sized bedrooms with walk in closets, and spacious baths each with deep, japanese style soaking tubs built into the semi circular out thrusts, as well as seperate showers. Each of the bedrooms had it's own firplace, their flue linked to the main one that ran up the central support column.

Over all the decor was clean and understated letting the natural beauty of the native woods shine through. The floors were graced with throw rugs in hues of deep greens, blues and rich amber browns. Many enlarged photographs hung on the walls, not of people but of various landscpes. The largest one of all was of Denali stretching skyward with it's crown of snow. The furniture was second hand, but comfortable and well kept. This was obviously the home of some one who lived alone most of the time. Some one who read alot, for books predominated, and the many book cases were filled to overflowing.

Quickly she unloaded the groceries, and put them away, then set about opening the house up. She hadn't expected to be gone as long as she had and some thigns needed to be cleaned out of the fridge and the trash taken down to the compactor in the subground levels. The nap she'd gotten on the way up had gotten her through the chores but now she was exhausted. Useing the last of her energy she brought up several arm loads of wood. "It gets cold out here even in the summer, so this will be ready if we want a fire later. Ryan here are the keys to the armory and relaoding room. Have fun!"

"Ryan, Darren, it's not super safe to be out after dark, and you might want to be insdie once full dark falls. There are lots of wild things out there that aren't afraid of man or guns." Charli added as she went and sat down one of the very comfortable easy chairs and was in seconds once again fast asleep.

The sun was begining to sink towards the horizon, in a long summer twilight.

Ryan made sure to get fully aquianted with the house after unpacking. He placed certain weapons in certain areas, decided for ease of use, and accessability in sudden attacks. The wiring was done easily enough, a magnetic strip at each door, that if broken, would trigger the standard alarm system. The one hundred mile an hour tape and huricaine tape was set up at each window, three strips crossing on the glass itself would cause the glass to collapse inwards on top of anyone trying to breach from the outside. The Air Force duct tape went on the frame around the window, it would cause any breachers to get tangled up.

Outside, he and Darren set up a trip wire set with the WP grenades. A foot lacking caution would set each off, and wipe out a good portion of any assault team comming in. Ryan had taken Charli's advice to heart, and carried the shotgun when outside. At close range with any serious wild animal, it would do much more damage than any of the pistols or the Shrike.

Returning to the house, Darren quickly picked one of the bed rooms, and began to unpack his own things. Ryan stayed out of the other one, and instead made his way to the kitchen. He examined their options for food, and decided he would cook later when Charli woke up. Ryan instead picked up Charli, gently enough, and with enough ease, and carried her up to the other bed room, carefully laying her down on the bed. Darren was already asleep, and it was hardly evening.

In the serene peace of the house, Ryan first went to the armory, and found a Remington 700 with a decent scope and a few boxes of ammo. He took it up to the balcony, along with the NVGs and the high powered binoculars. He dropped the goggles and the Ares next to him on the futon, and laid the rifle across his lap. The shot gun was resting just inside the door, in case who ever came got too close. He laid the Remington across his lap, and began to watch.

Charli had woken somewhat, but not completely the moment Ryan had touched her to pick her up. She meant to protest her ability to take care of herself but for some reason he didn't set off her alarms. Content to be in his arms she didn't stir and felt completely safe in his arms as he carried her up the spiral stairs to one of the beds. She tried to wake enough to thank him, but her eyes drifted shut the minute he laid her down and she was deeply in healing sleep by the time Ryan had made it down to the armory.

She woke up to discover the deep midnight blue of a sky that was far from the light polution of a city outside the bedroom window. Stretching and yawning she padded silently into the bathroom and stripped. The shower taps brought hot water in an instant and soon she was standing under it letting it steam and pound away the cobwebs from her mind. That alone told her how badly off she had been. Her normal wake up was lucidly clear thoughts, a mind amd body ready to go even after minimal rest. She scrubbed down and shampooed her hair as well.

Once donen she pulled on a pair of rather tattered but softly comfortable old shorts and not bothering with a bra, she didn't really need one, she slid on an equally well worn tee shirt that proclaimed Smoke Jumpers.
Do it hotter. It had been a gift from the crew when they'd finally accepted her. Charli treasured the sentiment behind it and would wear it until it was unuseable.

Moving with much of her old grace, and ignoring the pain that remained, she trotted quietly down the stairs, hearing Darren's not so soft snores coming from the other bedroom. She had a notion that Ryan was too disciplined to snore. He was barely visable on the balcony, a darker shape in the shadows as he sat nearly motionless on the futon. There was enough light coming from those that had been turned on earlier that none others were needed, though most of the spacious main floor was in shadown.

Charli found herself smiling as she turned into the spacious kitchen to put some coffee on to brew. Sinjin had sent her favorite, Old Tavern Estate Jamaica Blue Mountain, one of the few Jamacian growers that had any quality left their establishments. It was an excellent true Blue Mountain brew and she kept it only for special occassions. Some how she thought that this merited it. No one had ever carried her to bed before.

Soon the scent of the rich brew was pervading the house and Charli had pulled out sugar and real cream with which to doctor her coffee. Padding quietly over to the sliding glass door nearest to where Ryan sat she slid it open, and stuck her head out. "Ryan would you like some coffee? I'll cook those chicken breasts in a moment, thought it won't be anything fancy. My mom didn't pass her cooking gene on to me."

As Charli opened the door, she would have seen Ryan leaning forward into the scope, the rifle pearched and ballanced on a balcony beam, tucked tightly into his shoulder.

"Ranger been standing there too long for a patrol. Don't like it much." He hovered for a few more moments, and as the park ranger finally moved on, he pulled the rifle away. He stood, and let the bolt action hang by his side as he turned to face Charli.

Ryan would you like some coffee? I'll cook those chicken breasts in a moment, thought it won't be anything fancy. My mom didn't pass her cooking gene on to me.

Ryan smiled. "Coffee smells good," he said, looking Charli over. Even in her current state of relaxed dress, she looked good. "And don't worry 'bout cooking, I mean, if ya don't want to. I was checking out our food selection earlier, think I can cook up something nice. I mean, only if ya want me too."

Ryan stretched out. He wasn't tired, nor sor, but he had started getting used to the forward lean position on the futon having scanned what forest he could with the binoculars, and later that night vision goggles. He found himself slightly flustered around her, or at least, not at his full capacity. Something off for him, he had usually been easy to talk to women.

"Darren still outa it?"

"That was probably Huelin, he's a Dark Elf, they have incredible night vision, and he's never seen any one else up where with me save Khadri, Sinjin, Kasuma 'n Robyn. When he saw me come out he just..." She stopped flustered then spoke hurriedly to reasure Ryan. "He won't tell any one, save to the others of his team. They're a very closed mouth people I've been told."

When he spoke of cooking her dimples appeared "That sounds wonderful Ryan. I can cook plain stuff, but never got the hang of anything really nice. I'd love to taste your cooking."

"Darren still outa it?"

"Darren was sawing logs when I went by his room. I don't think he's used to stuff like this." Charli wasn't used to this specifically but being a smoke jumper got one use to strange conditions, even if her so very not normal life hadn't- which it had, but not of late.

"Are you warm enough? I think I have a jacket big enough to fit you." She couldn't seem to pull her eyes away from him.

"Yeah, the ICIA survival program is pretty weak, at least for the non field operators. Most of them don't even leave the office, so I bet he's not used to anything like this. And nah, I'm fine. Weather ain't too cold, but I bet a nice fire inside could get things warmed up perfectly."

Ryan placed the rifle down on the futon and smiled at Charli. "My mom taught me how to cook. Figured one of us needed to know how. Before I knew it, I was cooking dinner for everyone. I almost became a cook in the Army, decided it wouldn't be as fun."

Ryan followed Charli inside, and quickly set to work in the kitchen. Before long, the chicken, rolled in a nice Jamaican rub, was in the oven and ready to go. "Figure I might as well match the coffee," he chuckled, finishing off another cup of the dark roast. He left the sugar and milk aside, prefering the natural taste.

"Chicken should be done in about fifteen minutes. Mind if I go grab a shower?"

"Oh go right ahead. We can't run out of hot water here, it comes from a deep geo-thermal spring and the holding tanks are nearly a thousand gallons each. There are plenty of towels in the linen closet " Charlie replied as she moved over to light the fire she had set earlier.

"Does the chicken need to be turned? I can handle that." Charli sought some subject to occupy her mind which insisted on giving her an image of Ryan in the shower. She wondered why she was suddenly having trouble striking a match, then turned all her attention to it. You are being such a goof She scolded herself. It's not like you haven't been around unclothed men before. Yeah but they were just teammates and off limits. Well this one's off limits too She ended that mental conversation firmly as Ryan disappeared up the stairs. He moved with cat like agility, and a confidence that bordered on arrogance, but that she found oddly appealing. It happened a lot among the freshly graduated smoke jumpers and had always annoyed the hell out of her when they swaggerd about, like cocks of the walk. But on Ryan it looked right.

"Yeah, bout half way there, just roll them over gently." Ryan made his way up to the bathroom, shucking off his shirt and tossing it into Charli's room out of habit. In his own appartment, his room was across from the bathroom, and it was pure habit at this time.

He slipped past Daren, still knocked out, and slipped into the bathroom, stripping down. He looked at the scars, the cuts, the knicks and bruises, and the ink that covered his arms and upper torso. It was the cuts, scars, knicks, and bruises that caused him pause. With each one, he remebered where he got it, how it felt, what he thought. The same thought started to creep into his head. Are they worth it?

He looked at the one just above his elbow. He remebered the very distinct pain of the five five six ball round entering his arm, stopping it before it could hit Davis in the face. Yeah, they were worth it.

His mind went back to thinking about Charli, wishing she were up here too. He could always use a shower partner, especially one like her. He shook it out of his head. He can't be attracted to her, he can't think about her, he couldn't let her into his life.

Sliding into the warm water, he washed quickly, out of instinct and training. Almost. The quick shower was out of habit, but the warm water was a gift for him. He normally kept them quick and cold, just like every shower he had taken on base. He dried and dressed quickly, selecting a long sleaved black t shirt that hugged his frame, and pulled on a pair of loose fitting jeans.

He let Darren sleep, the ICIA computer wizard needed it. Making his way back to the kitchen, he took a deep breath, and looked around. "Ya know, if it weren't for the automatic firearms strewn about, the 'Caine tape on the windows, and the knowledge that I have a few white phospherous booby traps set up out there, this would feel almost homey."

He made his way towards the oven, and pulled out the chicken, giving it a good look. "Perfect," he said, placing them on a plate. "You ready to eat?"

Charli found herself laughing "Oh those make it feel homey, though mom didn't use willey pete in her traps, she used the claymores friends supplied her with."

She laughed at his look. "Officially they don't exist, those who know they do call them The Shop. The U.S. agency that deals with the things that go bump in the night or the things they've made that do the same." Her voice sobered as she found herself telling a stranger about her and her mothers past. About a life of being hunted, a life lived so far different than 'normal' she sometimes found herself totally lost, bewhildered, by things others said and did.

"It's my life and I'm used to it, but sometimes I wonder what a 'normal' life would have been like. Not to be different, not to be wrong." Her voice held only the faintest trace of envy. Charli didn't feel sorry for herself, most of the time, it was a trait she had no use for, but sometimes she did wonder.

She chased the last bit of chicken around the plate. "Thank you Ryan, that was delicious. You cooked so I'll get the plates. Want some more coffee?"

Ryan sat with interest through the story, listening and making sure not to interupt her story. It was obvious to him that she was reaching deep into the darker parts of her soul, the parts that not everyone got to see. He nodded as she explained, simply eating his own chicken.

As she stood to take the plates away, he stood to join her in washing the dishes.

"Ours is called Live Wire. Its private, though. Deals with all the supernatural stuff rolling around Imitora. They keep to themselves, and only come out when someone, or something, tries to start shit. Elsewise, they leave everyone to their own thing. They're part of Reflex, so they can operate on their own without any meddling oversight."

Thank you Ryan, that was delicious. You cooked so I'll get the plates. Want some more coffee?

What I really want is more of you, he thought, but didn't say. As soon as she turned on the water, he started in on his own.

"My mom had me when she was seventeen. Year before she went off to Sea Side, the Imitoran Naval Accademy. Always wanted to fly. My grandparents took care of me when I was young, and my mom would come to visit when she had leave time. Never really upset me much. It didn't really get hard till I was older, and she started in on deployments and such. Finished up high school basically on my own, every so often seeing my mom. Took the standard year off that most Imitorans take before either going into college or the public service. Had some fun with it. Worked with the BMW/Oracle sailing team for a bit, spent some time with a pit crew in on of the amature series, and a few safaris. Fun stuff like that. Then, I enlisted with the RIA, and its been up ever since."

He paused for a moment, taking a long pull of the coffee. "I never blamed my mom for not being around twenty four seven. It would have been nice, but then again, it wasn't her fault. I'm actually glad she didn't give up her dream. Only inspired me to push harder. Whenever the shit hit the fan, or things got real bad real ricky tic," he looked down at his elbow, "I just remebered the fact that mom raised me, flew, and eventually took control of an air wing."

He finished the last gulp of coffee, and looked out the window. "And the only people who lead normal lives are the ones who don't have any fun."

Charli washed, dried and put away dishes, pots, and pans on automatic, as every bit of her conscious self listened as hard as she could to Ryan's story. Her mother had been the sole anchor in her life until she'd been kicked out of the nest. So always there, that it was hard for Charli to imagine what it must have been like for him. Probably as hard as for him to imagie what it was like to live a life without electricity as we did until mom got us a generator when I was fifteen. She watched his eyes drift down to his elbow as he spoke of things going bad, and she wanted to pull the sleeve of his tee up and see the scar he was remembering gaining.

Almost unaware of what she was doing she glided over to him and laid her hand on the crook of his elbow. "The memory of pain is sometimes worse than the pain itself at times, isn't it?" She asked softly "Back at Cains, when Robert died, I got hurt there, ended up with punctured lungs and got the first installment of the injury thats plaguing me now. The doc's say that scar tissue is only eighty seven percent as strong as uninjured tissue, and I tore my metaphysical ability there for the first time when I." She stopped, looking away, her face twisted with distress.

"I killed 'cause I had to, to protect others, but it wasn't fun, I didn't like it and it wasn't the first thing I thought of to do, and maybe thats how I failed Rob." Something she wasn't quite consciously aware of told her not to call Robert Fortier Ryan's father, not to him, not now. Though it wasn't by any means a conscious decission, but something she found herself understanding instinctively, without conscious understanding of the 'why' about Ryan.

Ryan nodded.

"Its something I can do. It just comes naturally to me. Eighty percent of my first platoon had to go see the unit shrink after their first combat expierence, after thier first kills. I didn't. I just did it, and moved on. Guess its just something I'm able to do."

Ryan just shrugged. "I guess thats why I went through rank so damned fast. It just came easy to me. Some people can cook, some people can do math, some people build rockets. Me? I soldier."

Ryan wanted to change the topic, and fast. Killing wasn't exactly good dinner conversation.

"But hey. To each their own. Might not have to worry about being in the military to much longer, anyway," he chuckled.

Charli stepped back, embarrassed by her forwardness. She couldn't fault him for being unconfortable around her. Few were, and to expect anything else was stupid of her. Turning away her shoulders slumped and she sought hurriedly for a more neutral subject

"But hey. To each their own. Might not have to worry about being in the military to much longer, anyway,"

She didn't know how to reply to his last comment. Charli could tell that his skills and place in the Imitoran military were improtant to him, part of what made him who he was. How are they going to feel about what Ryan has done? She wondered, poking listlessly at the fire.Then she looked up at him with solemn eyes, from where she sat on the hearth stones.

"Whats going to happen Ryan? Aren't they going to be furious that you killed your spotter and the station chief?" She hoped talking about it was the right thing to do. And she wanted to hear more of his voice, to learn more about him and the way he thought and felt.

I want to get to know him better, maybe we can be friends, if hes willing to be friends with some one like me. She knew it probably wasn't likely - in a few days he'd be gone, back to his life and me to mine. Why does that feel so empty? She had no answer, save to acknowledge that the loneness of her life was growing harder and harder to bear.

Whats going to happen Ryan? Aren't they going to be furious that you killed your spotter and the station chief?

"Ya know, its kinda funny. Sinjin said I was replacable, but really, I'm not. It cost two point five million to train me outa basic. Another one point five for the SAAR. Then another four for IMSPECWAR. Station chief's are a dime a dozen, they pick 'em up outa college or grad school, send them to some leadership camps, then work em up the ladder. They'll be more pissed at me killing Salazzo."

He paused to reflect on the situation, to give an honest answer. "If I go back, and I get caught, I'll most likely loose a rank or two, spend a few years in one of the mid level security military prisons, then be sent to work some desk job. I'll be there for a year before I just loose it out of pure boredom, and I'll take my general discharge and figure it out from there. Thats if I go back."

He leaned back against the counter, and looked at Charli. "If I stay, they'll try to lure me back, but I know their tricks. If they try to come get me, well, alot of people will end up dead. I'll be honest, I'll most likely be one of them, but hey, I won't go down alone."

He was unaware of how cavalier his tone was with the last sentance. It was as if he had seen death, or was so used to it, that the exeptance of his own death was nothing moajor for him.

"It all depends really. Chances are, this will all blow over, they'll chalk Darren up as a loss, and everything will be gravy."

He didn't know how wrong he was.

"It all depends really. Chances are, this will all blow over, they'll chalk Darren up as a loss, and everything will be gravy."


"That doesn't make sense though Ryan. No one spent money like that on me, and yet my mother's mother and father were killed by the Shop, my father too, my mother and I hunted all our lives. Pretty damned determined people, and yet you think yours are any less so? They spend millions of dollars making you some sort of super killing machine and they are just going to let it walk off?" Charli shook her head and stood up to wander round the room, straightening a pile of books here, a photograph hung slightly tilted there.

"And I won't go down alone? Sheesh that sounds like bad action flick dialogue." She found herself angry, but wasn't in the least sure as to why. "Men. Testosterone must be mind altering!" She whirled away from him, and headed out side, trying to run from the flare of anger whose origins she didn't understand.

Had indeded grown cold and she shivered slightly as she rubbed her bare arms and realized just how thin the old tee shirt was as it displayed her body's reaction to the cold clearly. "Damn it behave yourself." She muttered under her breath as she went to lean against the baclonys railing. [i]Yeah but is it the cold or Ryan[/i'] part of her jibbed, and she had to admit that she wasn't sure. What she was sure of was that she was very angry at him.

That doesn't make sense though Ryan. No one spent money like that on me, and yet my mother's mother and father were killed by the Shop, my father too, my mother and I hunted all our lives. Pretty damned determined people, and yet you think yours are any less so? They spend millions of dollars making you some sort of super killing machine and they are just going to let it walk off?

"Its not that they aren't determined, but they are realists. Its not worth the possible loss of life on a larger scale, making a big sceen, and an international incident outa two people. Darren, as much as you wouldn't think it, is just like the station cheif in the big scheme of things. We have hundreds of thousands of kids graduating from tech schools all over the nation who can do what he can with a computer."

He shrugged. "So they'll be pissed, but really, why run the risk? Why waste time, money, and again, risk making a big damned scene about the whole thing. They have nothing to gain by comming after us."

Ryan was being honest, and was partially right. The Imitoran command structure wouldn't want to risk the scene, the cost of an operation, and the other discrepencies over two men. Two men that they could pick up anywhere else. If the ICIA did want them back, they would just sit back and wait for Ryan and Darren to come to them.

And I won't go down alone? Sheesh that sounds like bad action flick dialogue. Men. Testosterone must be mind altering!

Ryan stood back as Charli stormed out. He kept the expected what the fuck? comment to himself. After she had closed the balcony door, he just shook his head.

"Femmes. Ils font l'haut plus haut et les niveaux bas beaucoup plus fréquentent si."

He walked out after her calmly, stepping out into the cool night air. "Listen, this has nothing to do with testosterone or being a guy or whatever. I make my living by putting myself out there on the line every day. I HALO out of MC-130s, fast rope outa Nighthawks, and do board insertions with MH-6Is. Everytime I go through a door on point, crash that window, or breach through a mouse hole, for all I know some guy could be standing their waiting with a twelve gauge or have a claymore all set up. Everytime I clear a room, or tail a tango, or do a linear assault on a plane or bus, I'm opening myself up for a world of hurt."

Ryan was sure to keep his tone calm, not quite stern, but not bending. He wasn't yelling, nor shouting, just, informing.

"The fact of the matter is I have come to accept the point that someday I will die, be it by any reason. Old age or off assault. However I go, I will go. I can't let a fear of death or injury get in the way of my mission. The sooner I was able to let go of that fear, the better off I was."

"Ryan I understand that, but you should have heard the way you said it. I jump out of planes and helicopers too. I may not jump into hails of bullets but eighteen hundred degrees of fire or being impailed on a tree can make one just as dead. You take calculated risks, so do I but ..." She shook her head, and rubbed her arms once again. It was useless to do anything but ignore that fact that the cold was making her breasts very noticeable.

"You aren't a death rider, you aren't trying to suicide by satisfying your need for the rush. I don't see that in you and I've seen plenty like that. But back in there...you shoulda heard yourself. Death is just another door to go through, and we all will some day.'

She looked away for a moment "Enough about all deep and philosophical. You know your government and people best. If you say they're gonna let the matter drop, you're the expert not me."

She was surprised to find herself asking "What are you going to do when this is all over? You spoke of trying to go back and what they woiuld do if the caught you. But is that what you are planning to do?"

What are you going to do when this is all over? You spoke of trying to go back and what they woiuld do if the caught you. But is that what you are planning to do?

Ryan shrugged. He was focusing more on Charli. He had hardly ever been turned on to such a degree by a woman. It was more than her physical form, though that was definately a plus for him. He was forcing himself to not undress her with his eyes, or his hands. Her personality had set him off, from the first time they had met. So much passion, emotion, everything he was looking for. And her body...

Alright Ryan, calm down, he told himself.

"I dunno. I'd like to go back. I mean, I know it may not be perfect, but its still my home, and I like it there. I mean, I've been other places that have been nice, but really, I just can't see myself living anywhere else. Maybe one of the smaller cities, but even then, I could end up in Northampton. I guess it all depends on how this plays out. If it blows over, then I'll most likely head back and get my general discharge and call it a day for the military. I try not to think that far ahead."

Charli couldn't take her eyes off of Ryan, and it was far more than just the fact that he made every part of her tingle with a stronger desire than she had ever known. So much more. But he's gonna go back, Charlie mi girl, back to most likely several women that make you look like the moose that you are...Not fair!Part of her wailed as she found just the barest tip ofher tongue tracing slowly along her lower lip.

No it's not fair. Enjoy his presence while you can, get him to talking. His voice is just something I could listen too for hours, and I like talking with him. He thinks, he doesn't just spout off.

She met his eyes, falling into the exotic emerald fade to sapphire of them drownding pools, I could fall weightless forever in them. "And if you could live a dream life? What would it be, what would you do?"

Ryan's eyes met hers with equal passion.

Take her, damnit. Just grab her and kiss her. Hold her. Touch her. Caress her.

His mind, and heart, pounded with words, suggestions, offerings. But no, he would wait for just the right moment. However, far be it for him to delay that moment. Softly, he took a step forward, closing the open distance between them, his own body nearing hers.

I know you see me looking at you and you already know... Ryan thought. He had no idea why he thought that. Well, he did, but it wasn't right.

He made sure not to get to close with his distance covering step, but close enough to lower his voice, to go from its normal tone to a deeper, almost whisper like quality. "Dream life? Drive around in fast cars with a loving, hot girl."

Charli found her body going light, gravity having disappeared, as he closed with her. Eyes huge she found her throat so dry that she had to swallow a few times to be able to even think of speaking. Tilting her head back, unconsciously offering him the long slendler line of her neck as she looked up, refusing to look away from him.

Her voice was husky and as much a whisper as his was, her body swaying toward Ryan so that her breasts brushed light as the touch of phantasm against his chest "What do you consider 'hot'?" As one hand came up to trace a line down his cheek.

Ryan's hand came up quickly but gently, and carefully wrapped around Charli's. His own eyes met hers, never blinking.

He brought her hand to his lips, giving it a soft kiss.

"Define hot? Well, I like who I'm looking at right now."

His voice was deep, a dark, husky bedroom voice. The world no longer existed outside the two of them. Not for Ryan, at least. He pulled her in close, or maybe she stepped in, he didn't know, nor did he care.

"What about you? What's your dream life?"

She moaned softly as his lips touched her skin, and a flash of pure heat sizziled outward from that spot leaving her breathless for a long timeless moment.

Their bodies melded into one long line, Charli nestling in him, trying to meld them together. "You" she husked, "You fill not only my senses but my mind. I feel bioth safe and decidedly unsafe around you. I thought I had all the fire I needed, but you make me realise that I want a whole different sort of fire."

"Ryan" The barest vocalization, his name a plea and a demand rolled inextricably into one.

Ryan didn't respond vocally, instead tracing one hand up the outside of each thigh, and then lifting her up into his arms, kissing her hard and passionately. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him, supporting all of her wieght with his body. He felt the heat flashing through her body, flashing through his. It was at this point that he forgot everything. There was no mission, no Darren, no threat of attack, no need to fight. There was nothing.

He pulled away for the briefest of seconds, looking deep into her eyes. He wanted her now, here, this very second. But he knew he had to wait for just the right moment, again, a moment that was comming with increasing speed.

He stared deep into her eyes, looking deep into her soul, holding her close.

"Shall we take this inside?" he asked with not only with scincerity, but desire, both obvious in his voice.

Gravity was definitely in abeyance, his strength, his embrace all that was holding her earth bound. Her arms slid around his waist as her lips met his with matching passion. Lambent ebon flames that absorbed all the light from the moon and the blazing river of stars overhead, but radiated no heat, engulfed them and became a spike of negative luminance that speared outward at the speed of light. Charli never noticed, for nothing in the universe was, or ever would be, more important than the man she held in her arms.

Her eyes were locked with his, offering him no hinderance to her soul as she sought his. The strength, the hungers, the desires that matched her own, passions and shadows - for neither was perfect, but they complimented one another, each completeing the other. And that was as it should be.

Her voice was but the ghost of a whisper, and she reinforced it with a solemn nod, her answer a pledge.

"Yes"

Ryan moved with a suprising ease and grace. He had spent well over an hour earlier getting to know the house to the best of his abilities, and never taking his eyes of Charli, or his lips from hers, he managed to easliy make his way inside, through the kitchen. The stairs presented equally little problem, Ryan knowing each step well enough to keep his focus where it belonged: totally and fully on Charli.

Each kiss brought him closer to her, meeting her, knowing her, learning her. Each kiss, each touch was a deeper bond, a closer step towards becoming one with her. Each kiss was another taste, another new sensation, another new piece of her.

He carried her expertly into the bed room, his foot closing the door, but never loosing balance. He never shifted her, never lost control of what he was doing, and made sure that the walk was as pleasure filled as possible. With further ease, he carried her gently over to the bed, and stood their, holding her in his arms, still kissing her, still touching her. His mind had lost all sense, lost all presence, all concept of time and being.

Now was that moment.

And this is the part where we fade to black...

They made love slowly, savoring every moment, then hours having passed unnoted, drifted to sleep as one. Waking to renewed arousal and the fulfilling of each others desires and falling deep in to the arms of Morpheus pleasantly exhausted. Woke and explored each other more, then lay, enfolded in the languid afterglow, hands and bodies nestled together as they spoke in hushed tones. They had spoken of the broad scope of their lives, no the intimate poured forth, a gift each to the other.

The tears that ran down cheeks as she hid behind a book out on the front porch while everyone else in the tiny high school partied beneath the midnight sun at the prom.

How he'd missed his graduation ceremony waiting by the phone to hear news of his mother after her plane had been shot down over enemy waters. How hed gone out to his car and turned the volum up as high as it would go to hide his sobs of relief after he'd gotten the call that S.A.R. helo's had found her and were bringing her back to her carrier, safe if exhausted and dehydrated. Laughing near hysterically when she called and yelled at him for missing the commencement.

Her searing fury at her mother's revelation that the reason she'd sent Charli away was to keep Charli from discovering that she had cancer, that there was nothing to be done but enjoy what time was left. Charli's inability to understand why her mother chose not to fight; and the argument that had kept them from speaking to one anther for weeks. Until Charli had caught her mother holding the picture only picture of the man she had lost so many years before, the father Charli had never known, rocking and crying that soon she be with him. They were tears of desperate joy and Charli had stolen away, not intruding on her mother's privacy, but understanding, now, years later how her mother felt.

His confession that he had hated his father, had always blamed him leaving his mother, and was glad that he'd never known the man. How hard it was to live in his shadow, how it infuritated him to see the man that had abandoned his mother and him be made so much of. Especially by her.

"Ryan, beloved" Her voice soft but adamant "You are you. Not a substitute, or replacement for him. You will make your own mark on the world, not as his son but as yourself. Ryan Fortier, you are the one I love, and ever will. You are the one I want to be with, good and bad, the rest of my life - the north and south and east and west of my life.

Ryan listened intently with each of Charli's stories, replying with one of his own. Some of the more secret parts of his life, the deeper part of his sould that he bared to noone.

You are you. Not a substitute, or replacement for him. You will make your own mark on the world, not as his son but as yourself. Ryan Fortier, you are the one I love, and ever will. You are the one I want to be with, good and bad, the rest of my life - the north and south and east and west of my life.

Ryan smiled, for it was all he could do. For too long, he had been Robert Fortier's Son. But today, finally, someone saw him as Ryan Fortier, not the son of someone else.

He kissed her, gently, and slowly untwined himself from her arms. Another soft kiss to her forehead, and he slid out of the bed, tugging on his jeans from the previous night. He stretched out, from the very tips of his toes, pushing all the way out as he threw his hands over head, stretching even though his fingers. "I'm gonna go make some breakfast, take your time," he smiled, and slipped out of the room.

Making his way downstairs, he ran into Darren, drinking left over coffee warmed in the microwave, and reading a paper. He looked up at Ryan with an off look. "Where's Charli? She wasn't on the futon outside."

"She's upstairs, just getting up."

"I thought you just came from...oh." Darren just nodded, and went back to the paper. "Any plans for the day."

Ryan had already retrieved the eggs, and was digging for more bacon slices, and some cheese. "Well, I'm gonna do a security walk, then I'm gonna teach you how to shoot better than they did at the ICIA qualifications."

"Anything else?"

"Well, I was thinking maybe a late afternoon movie, dinner, maybe go out to some clubs, I mean, the possibilities of getting you out in the open for an easy kill are endless."

"Point taken."

Ryan went to work when he finally found the slices of pork, and started cracking open eggs for most of the styles he could cook. Quickly, he wipped up four fired eggs for Darren, and started scrambling a good four or five for himself. When Charli came down, he would cook hers to order as well. The bacon was cooked perfectly, to Ryan's standards, crisppy but not burnt through. He placed that on the table when it was done, and then started brewing up fresh coffee for Charli and Darren, while he stuck to milk and juice.

Charli couldn't take her eyes off of Ryan as he rose from the bed and indulged in an incredibly sensual looking stretch. And the smile he had just given her. She wondered if he had a picture of himself at eight or so. He must have been a heartbresker even then. And he sees me as beautiful, desireable She could scarecely believe that but he had given her undeniable proof multiple time in the preceeding hourss.

Once he was gone she too climbed out of the bed and stretched, enjoying each ache and spot of tenderness. Charli wasn't exactly accustomed to love play, but didn't mind the reminders one bit. She steamed under the shower for some time, enjoying the fall of the water sluicing over her body. before applying the herbal shampoo she prefered and working up lots of lather. Grinning she watched the mounds of bubbles trail slickly down her curves and wondered what Ryan thought of water sports.

"I have got to learn to cook better. There is no way I am going to let him do all the cooking. Things like that are supposed ot be shared." But it's not like I have to learn today, we have forever together It never occured to her that they might not.

She hummed under her breath, the gorgeous love theme from The Mask of Zorro then samg one line "I Want To Spend My Lifetime Loving You" as she dried her hair and threw on a fresh pair of jeans and a short sleeoved camp shirt. She winced a little at the thought of putting a bra on, her breasts were happily well loved. Exercise does a body good she chuckled mentally as she all but danced down the stairs.

"Ryan that smells heavenly" She called before noticing Darren. She couldn't help but flush a little but she wasn't ashamed in the least.

"So what are the plans for the day?" Charli went into the kitchen where Ryan had just poured her a cup of coffee. "None for you?" She noticed that he didn't have a cup at hand, and there was only one on the table and Darren was drinking that.

Ryan that smells heavenly. So what are the plans for the day? None for you?

"Oh, not much. Just gonna check the perimeter, and give Darren a bit of training," Ryan smiled at Charli. He paused his cooking for a long moment, just watching her move. His eyes slid over her body, remebering every little bit of the previous night, every sensation, and feeling the urge to re-live it all again.

"Nah, not a coffee in the morning person, just five or six glasses of juice or milk."

Darren swigged down his third cup, and began to dig into the bacon. "Ya know," he stated, "I don't really need to learn how to shoot or any of that better, I'd be fine just hiding in a closet."

Ryan just shook his head. "Finish up bud, I'm not gonna let you get outa this."

Charli nodded, feeling heat sweep over her body as he looked at her. However tumbling him right then and there on the floor might disturb Darren, though maybe later she could suggest that the Imitoran hacker could spend time swimming in the stream that ran though her property. Though maybe I ought to be the one doing that...Nope this feels too good to wash away with glacier melt.

"Coffee is nice in the morning but I don't do it every day. I am a huge oj addict though. Never could get enough of it in Alaska." she dug into the heavenly smelling plate of eggs and bacon that Ryan slid infront of her with gusto. She had a high metabolism and ate like the proverbial horse. "Oh this is delicious Ryan." Her eyes glowing as she looked over at him and gave him the compliments the delecious food deserved.

"There's a long meadow just down the hillside, it's were I practise my shooting, though I'll have to admit to not being as good at it as I could be." She knew she didn't get enough practise in. Charli described the meadow and mentioned that there were probably still some targets set up from the last time she had practised.

"Do you mind if I join you, or do you prefer one on one instruction?"

Ryan shook his head. "No problem. I'm cert, anyways."

Part of the selection training for the Imitora Special Warfare program required selectees to shoot at the Imitoran designated "Above Marksman" level. Doing so also qualified one, in the Imitoran military at least, to serve as a firearms instructor and trainer. When he did his last bout in Detachment Selection, he had been the range marshall, seeing who could, and couldn't, shoot.

The next days went on with little interuption. Mornings were spent eating the almost overdone breakfasts that Ryan put together, then shooting practice, and a quick perimeter walk through. The rest of the day was spent in an odd sort of relaxation state, with Ryan keeping watch for anything out of the ordinary, and Darren carefully off wandering the property, sure to never stray to far. Ryan and Charli spent much of the time getting to know each other further, both physically and emotionally, and learning about thier pasts.

It was on the third day that things began to change. Darren was reading a news paper that the forest rangers would deliver, and drinking coffee, when he pushed it over to Ryan. The headline was about his favored football team, the Temple Saints, winning the national championship. However, that wasn't the main point. It was a small side story at the bottom of the front page that alerted readers that a Fleet Captain in the Imitoran Navy, Air Operations, and commander of one of the nation's carriers, had been detained for questioning. This was common place, as often the Fleet Captain rank was privy to more confidential information. However, it was the name that set Ryan off.

Fl Capt. Christin Marrie Chaffin.

Ryan looked up from the paper. "Anyone got a phone?"

"Yes, I keep a link paid for but not plugged in" Charli looked alarmed at the sudden undertone in Ryans voice. That was killing anger, even if it was under iron control.

In moments she had brought up the Hughes Network Systems 9201 Class 1M Terminal from where she stored in in her office.. It had full BGAN coverage, and was military rated. Once it was running she plugged in the ISDN handset and handed it to Ryan.

"Just use the keypad to dial out. Standasrd International call system. It will go though multiple satallites, it shouldn't be traceable."

And normally it wouldn't be, but Charli didn't know that certain situations were far from normal.

Ryan took the phone, and thanked Charli. Quickly, he dialed out, not considering for even the shortest of seconds that it was either a ploy, a trap, or a bad idea.

A few rings, then a message box, then a beep. "Hey mom, its me, just calling to see whats up. Saw you in the paper this morning, just wanted to make sure things are gravy. Call me back at this number. Love ya."

Ryan clicked the phone off, and handed it back to Charli. The tone of his voice was mixed with both fear and rage, the sort of rage that even Darren took note as being possibly bad.
__

The KMAV is a tempramental thing. A quasi self aware intell system ran the basics of the satalite, but most of its commands were made specifically by humans either in ONI, or the Office of Naval Intelligence, or the ICIA's SIGNET, or Space Information Gathering Network. A rather small number, only three to be exact, were focusing the majority of their power on an object that ninety nine point nine percent of the planet's population takes for granted. Their phone.

The KMAV-228 Intell Satalite number two two four seven, different in its operation on many ways from the 490 Hunter Killer Satalites and 370 Weapons Platform Satalites, was focused directly on monitering the signal of Fl Capt. Christin Chaffin's cell phone. The signal of the incomming call was monitered, the call itself recorded, the call length noted, and other minute details, such as the incomming number, were also made known.

The satalite, as part of its semi aware state, made an attempt to dial and trace call the number, but it was of no use. The out call phone had been turned off. To two two four seven, that was of no matter.

First, it traced the recieving signal back to the broadcast tower. Then to the satalite it had recieved the broadcast from. From there, it was a matter of moments as it used a quick burst of data stream to simply hack through the public communications satalites, and trace the final origin of the call.

A very specific latitude and longitude mark in Tanaara.

Turning, the KMAV shot across the vast emptiness of space, and fired a single data burst at a unique satalite, the DRS-228. The DRS was a specific satalite only in use by the ICIA. It eliminated the single open link between the ICIA and the real world. And they were cheap. It accepted the data burst, encrypted it, and then, in rather uncerimonious fasion, fell out of the sky.

However, it landed in what was basically the back yard of the IMSPECWAR command center. Retrieved by a retrevial team, the data was sent express, express being the back seat of an F/A-86D Archangelsk, to the main Northampton office of the ICIA. It was handed off, following decription, to a one Clark Badder, Director of Covert Operations, ICIA.

Included in the data was a name, not just Ryan's or Christin's, but the name Charlene Antonia Stepahnie Firewalker, the owner of the plan that the phone operated off of. The name was run through the ICIA's, IFCI's, Global Missing Person, and a few national name databases. It came up in one, belonging to what seemed to be an off shoot, and then some, of the American CIA and American NSA. A group that was listed only as The Shop.

Badder was quickly on the phone, the type of phone that all intell agencies have. Encrypted a few thousand times over, sent by a hard line, re-encrypted halfway there, encrypted when it got there a few more times, and then connected.

Pleasantries were exchanged, data was cross handed, and a few numbers, mostly with dollar signs in front of them, were also crossed.
__

Ryan collapsed into a chair, Darren just watching with concern. "Are we gonna go shoot today?"

The spy had taken a liking to the more advanced concepts that Ryan was teaching, including the numerous positions to shoot from, and learning about the different weapons. As his skills increased, his enjoyment for the act did so as well.

Ryan shrugged. "If ya want to, sure. Might get the stress out." Ryan looked up at Charli. "You game, or just wanna stay in today, read a book or something?"

Charli watched Ryan, her concern very real, though she kept her face calm. They both felt the same way about their mothers and she knew that if it were her, she'd be seething with anger and worry. And she could all but physically feel the rage vibrating off of Ryan.

She walked over to where Ryan sat and went to her knees in front of him, looking him in the eyes, her own eyes grave.

"Ryan, would you like to do some shooting alone for a while, then Darren and I could join you?" She wasn't sure how Ryan handled anger that strong, every one had different ways. And she wasn't afraid to ask him for his preferences. She didn't even think he'd lie to her. There had been nothing but absolute, unvarnished truth between them in the past days as they built their relationship.

Ryan just rolled back into the chair. He could still feel the weight of the pistol on his hip, the loaded ten millimeter polymer plinker reminding him that he was still a top notch killer, and he could make this little transgression on the ICIA's part just disapear with a few well placed DPX rounds. He let out a hollow sigh, and an almost shameful nod.

"Yeah. I'll just take a few more boxes of ammo, just meet me out there when you guys are ready," he said, almost sullen, as he pushed himself to his feet. He made his way to the armory, grabbing a few more than a handful of ammo boxes, and made his way out to the issolated area that had become his shooting play ground.

Charli stood and sighed inwardly as she watched him stalk off. Once he was gone she looked at Darren and her voice was hard and unforgiving "I really, really hate Imitora at times. Your governemnt is a piece of shit that is, I guess, just what you all deserve. Look at what it does to good men like Ryan and you. Uses his mother to hurt him and villifies your moral acts. And people wonder why I'm..." Furious, she whirled away from the astonished Darren, and retreated down to her office. There were people she had to contact. Special people, with special abilities, and unique equipment in a place called Robbers Roost.

She'd had these antsy feelings before, and she wanted to be prepared.

Four hours later, she had a picnic hamper prepared. She cooked a small number of recepies well. And meat ball po-boy style sandwiches with huge pile of melting morzarella were easy enough to wrangle up. Along with the sandwiches she'd made slaw, with cabbage, carrots, and three kinds of peppers sliced paper thin and drenched in just enough of her mothers recepie for slaw dressing.

"Ryan, stop wearing blisters on your hands and come eat" She called from the shade of the nearest stand of young white pines where the mounds of old, soft pine needles made comfortable pillows under the heavy blanket the had thrown down.

Darren shrugged. "Hey, its home?"
__

Ryan could feel Darren and Charli approach, but he chose instead to finish the current magazine instead, emptying another set of the 10mm hollow points into the paper targets. A quick glance would notice they were nothing but head shots, entire parts of the paper 'faces' missing.

Ryan, stop wearing blisters on your hands and come eat

Ryan just nodded, and tossed a magazine out in front of him, watching it settle on to the ground. He turned towards Charli and Darren, walking over to the picnic blanket. He was half way there when he turned suddenly, and took off in a hard run. Ryan overstepped the magazine, kicking it up with the back of his heel, and rolled forward. He popped up to his knees, hand extended, and caught the magazine, slamming it home into the Glock. From the kneeling position, he squeezed off a triple tap, two to the chest, and one to the head, into the target immediately in front of him. He rolled to his side, coming to rest on his back, head towards the target, and inverted, shot across the range at the target on the farthest right, the same triple shot. One more half roll, onto his stomach, and again a triple tap to the target right in front of him. An odd sort of backwards flip had him on his back, head away from the target, and one last triple tap into the last target out on his farthest right.

He stood, holstered the weapon, and came over to the blanket, sitting. He glanced over at Darren, more focused on the food, and gave him a questioning look. "Ya gotta be able to shoot like that," Ryan said, selecting a meatball sub, and a heaping pile of slaw.

"Yeah, right. If I ever need to see you do that, I'll most likely be hiding in the back of the Land Rover," the hacker chuckled.

Ryan nodded. "Just don't accidentally sit on the white phosphorous grenades. Those could make you day pretty bad."
__

The picnic went on as planned, and the rest of the day did as well. Ryan was, at best, quiet for the most part, simply watching off in the distance, as if he expected something. The thousand yard stare, or maybe just the thoughtful look of the warrior trying to find a fight. He knew what he had to do, but it wasn't what he wanted to do. What he had to do was stay here, not give in to the ICIA, and force them to come to him. What he wanted to do was go back to Imitora, pick up a gun, and kill allot of people.

At lunch, when the conversation had ever so briefly turned to his mother, Darren had asked how many people he would take out over this. Ryan had replied simply, "enough".

Night came and fell, and the trio had made their way to bed, Ryan almost reluctantly. Still he did, and as he dozed off asleep in Charli's arms, the nightmares came back. First, a relatively tame one of him being chased by a demon though Northampton, his weapons all but useless in stopping it. It was followed by watching Darren get ripped in half. He was finally pulled from his sleep the first time by seeing Charli tortured by a group of demons and humans alike. Sleep returned, but not for long as a long, detailed dream had his mother fighting one in the sky, only to loose, and find a torture even worse than what Charli had suffered.

He snapped awake from the final dream, only to enjoy the peace and quiet of the night for a few moments. The near deafening crack of the rigged white phosphorous grenade out in the distance quickly brought him to focus, his hand shooting instinctively through the dark and wrapping around the specifically placed shotgun. The steel of the pump action offering him something along the lines of reassurance, or maybe adrenaline to wake him. His words to Charli were quick, and to the point, but not quite harsh.

"Someone is coming."

He rolled out of bed, grabbing the Glock, and pushed his way into Darren's room. He tossed the hacker, who too awoke with the explosion, the pistol, and nodded towards the living room. "Remer, keep 'me tight, make sure you’re planted, and get ready to kick some ass."

Ryan made his way to the second floor balcony, looking out at the area in front of him. Eerie devil shadows were cast about, the fire burning out in the distance highlighting the incoming shooters. He dropped the shot gun on the couch, and picked up the Ares, shouldering it. With a bit of a look, he made out the shaped outline of one of the bodies, and squeezed off a burst, sending out the finger of God in five point five six with the vengeance sound of a thousands claps at once. The body fell.

His fire was suppressive at best, preventing any sort of ground movement until the harsh flare of a flood light hit the house, and a helicopter that looked like a Black Hawk, but sounded different, came in with a steep flare. Fast ropes came out, and Ryan quickly moved back inside as the almost clichéd black dressed operatives came down in droves. The Hurricane tape held strong, keeping them tangled up as the first group moved through the windows, sending a few shards of glass flying out into the house. The major pieces collapsed around the first responders, and they became sitting targets for Ryan.

He shouted out what could only be called orders, and nothing else, as if organizing a tactical response from Charli and Darren, moving them into best position to counter strike. Three of the invading men had already gone down when the finally opened fire on the house.

Charli had been incredibly impressed with Ryans abilities at the range and didn't hesitate to tell him so. She didn't mind his silence, understanding where it came from. She just hoped what she'd asked for made it to her before the storm broke.

When at last they went to bed she sensed Ryan reluctance, and contented herself with wrapping herself about him. She loved doing that, taking pleasure in the feel of their bodies entertwined, and breathing as one. She awoke however when nightmares sent him thrashing slightly.

She lay on her side, propped up on one elbow watching over him, and trying to sooth him with soft voiced words. She had no idea what brought the evil dreams about, and she could only hope that her presence eased Ryan's disturbance. As they seemed to subside she drifted off to sleep again, holding him comfortingly.

The explosion jolted her awake and aware in an instant. She didn't bother to throw on anything after she rolled off the other side of the bed. Unlike Ryan she did not dash down stairs but when up to the roof, though a special hatch.

She had just poped the concealed hatch when a helo came in and flared to let operatives modified Black Hawk dissolved in flames so intense the aviation fuel and other explosives aboard the bird had no chance to explode or ignite. No debris rained down, there simply was none. Those still aboard had no chance themselves to realise they were dead and headed to what ever hel they believed in.

Fire in deepest blue chased down the rapelling ropes to ignite any still attached to them, and several men tumbled screaming off of the balcony, which seemed strangley unaffected by the flames.

"I warned you, you son's a bitches, and you poor slobs had no idea what you have come after" Charli snarled as she dropped back down the hatch, letting it fall closed behind her. "When is the Shop going to leave me alone?" Charli knew that these might just be Imitoran forces, but she didn't care. She hurried down the stairs following the oders Ryan was shouting, trusting him to place her in the best position to back him up.

Ryan’s orders were perfect for Charli, whose skill, little as it were in training but much from experience, had her laying down a good suppression along with Ryan. From the second floor they had an easy vantage point on the incoming ground shooters, Ryan's Ares and Charli's weapons needing little in the way of assistance. The invaders dropped easily, only one or two scampering away from the covering fire. A lucky round from one of the runners hit Ryan in the shoulder, but the high velocity ball round just passed through, missing any vital blood passages. But it did hurt, and Ryan's colorful list of swears made that known.

One, however, had made his way to the lower entrance of the house, in through the garage, and began to slowly make his way up the stairs. His weapon, a H&K G36C with a silencer and fancy looking reflex scope, was shouldered in order to allow him a first reaction shot. Which he managed to get on Darren.

The computer hacker was making his way down to the garage to get the Land Rover ready, as Ryan had ordered, when the burst of five five six hit him dead in the chest. He felt not pain, nor hurt, but an odd, cold feeling wash over him. It was surprise more than anything that dropped him to the ground, looking at sudden blood stained hands. The red vitae poured out into an oozing puddle as he slumped forward, watching life leave him. The Shop agent stepped around the slowly lifeless body, moving up the stairs.

He soon felt pain in the form of Darren's last living action, a ten millimeter hollow point slamming into the back of his kneecap, blowing away massive chunks of bone, muscle, flesh, and spraying a fine mist of blood. The agent dropped, and Darren just smiled.

Ryan was standing with a steadfast gaze as Charli quickly went to work on his wound. The gun shot from Darren's Glock snapped him away from Charli, and he unslung the Remington, moving towards the garage. He rounded a corner down the stairs, and found the one agent, barely moving as blood poured forth from where his knee should have been. He then saw Darren, lifeless, but with a peaceful, serene smile on his face.

The thunder clap of the twelve gauge reverberated through the house as The Shop agent's head was turned to a pulp from the close range blast of 00 Buck. He said nothing as he kicked the body aside, and moved towards Darren. He fished through his pocket of the jeans he had pulled on, and pulled out two coins. Most Imitoran credits were paper money, but there was a small amount of coinage still floating around, in this case two gold single credit coins. He placed one over each closed eye, and stood back.

He doubted if Charli happened to have a deck of playing cards with nothing but the Ace of Spades, so he didn't ask. Instead, he looked at the carnage in the hallway with silence. "We need to go to Imitora," he said, nonchalantly. His voice was cold, empty. Not frightening, but eerie. "I can deal with this better there."

There was no confusing for what Ryan meant.

Charli's face was as impassive as Ryan's, as she gazed at Darren's serene face, though tears made unnoticed tracks down her face. She looked at what seemed to be a simple indigo plastic band she had wrapped around her left wrist, tapping a spot on the TAG with the tip of one fingernail, watching a count down timer.

"Our ride is thirty minutes out. We need to get packed." Her voice was hard, not as calm as his but almost there.

"Did I remember to mention I'm an internationally wanted terrorist?" She asked with attempted lightnes as she turned to head back up the stairs.
-
Once the SR80 arrived and they were ready to leave, the house, like the helicopter before it would become a funeral pyre such as few had ever
seen.

Ryan watched with a calm face as the house, what remained of the helicopter, and all the inhabitants of both burned deep into the night. The dark shadows created by the flame danced over the landscape, Ryan wanting to watch it all burn before stepping away. After a solid thirty minutes of simply standing and observing, he turned towards the SR80. He boarded after Charli, taking one last look at the house, the surrounding area, and the pyre.

"Where to boss?" the one Ryan assumed to be pilot or navigator asked, almost cautiously.

"Montgard," was all he said, in a dead pan tone.

Did I remember to mention I'm an internationally wanted terrorist?

Ryan took his time in answering, as if contemplating the words she said. It was almost an offering of advice, or possibly a warning or hint. Her attempt at humor would normally be well received by Ryan, but not tonight. No, tonight was the beginning of the end for many people.

"That’s gonna be happening to a lot of us," he said, still watching for one last glance, one last long look at the burning house. "It might just be fun."

And part one, as the French say, is Fin...