NationStates Jolt Archive

"You think you can kill me? Go ahead and fire." Scott said as he moved toward the young boy.

The boy squeezed the trigger. The shotgun threw hundreds of balls of duck shot in Scott's general direction. He had mistakenly loaded his shotgun with small bird shot shells rather than the more lethal buckshot rounds.

The duck shot would injure a person, but was primarily designed for use against small birds; buckshot was generally used for killing humans and large animals.

Scott fell down to the ground. A sting sensation was all over his body. Getting up slowly he looked at the young kid. "Let's see how you like it...."

Pulling a handgun from his belt, he aimed it at the boy's head then fired.

The boy fell to the ground. Brains sprayed all over the place as the hollow-point 10mm Glock slug ripped through his skull and caused it to burst. The shotgun, with six rounds of duck shot inside, fell to the ground.

At around the same time, the jeep with Commander Collins, Miles, and several members of the National Police and Military Intelligence, arrived in Highwood - on the other side of the city from where the murders had taken place.

"I guess not." Scott said as he looked at his own pistol. Well the job had been done. He stepped over the pool of blood then picked up the shotgun. For a while he just stood there and looked over the weapon. Scott was becoming familiar with it. This shotgun was now his. Once done he looked around and walked back to his apartment.

Five minutes later, city police arrived at the house. They entered (the front door was unlocked) to look around. A medic was working on the boy, but there was little that she could do for someone whose head and brain were completely destroyed.

The officer who entered Kathleen's house was shocked by the sheer amount of blood. He saw what appeared to be a nude woman, covered in blood and completely unresponsive, and not breathing. She was holding a revolver and her hand had residue on it - she'd obviously fired at whatever had attacked her. It would take time to sort the DNA and find out if they could get a DNA match on the blood.

He administered CPR, but soon found that her cardiac injuries were too serious and she'd lost too much blood. "Well, let's see what the doctors can do for her..." He didn't hold out a lot of hope, but she was clearly beyond his ability to help.

Later that night Scott sat down in his bed. He was silently looking up toward the ceiling. There was not one sense of guilt in his body. Scott might have murdered two people and didn't feel anything. He was a true Agent. It was what Director Hall hoped for each of his men to become, a cold killing machine. All Scott was thinking about was his next victim. He wanted more blood. It was impossible to control.

Collins' cell went off in the jeep. He pulled it out and answered, "Collins."

"Commander, there's been two killings, about six blocks north of Red Dragon. One of the vics is a regular there, a Ms. Kathleen Donovan, age 35, other's a kid, Will Grant, age 12. We think the killer's someone Ms. Donovan met in a bar, we just talked to the bartender and he saw her leave with a guy calling himself Walter, he'd never seen him before. The boy, we figure heard something and came to help, both vics have gunshot residue on their hands, they'd fired weapons. His parents weren't home, they're being notified right now."

"Jesus," said Collins. "Another killing - we don't normally have this kind of crime here." One had to be a brazen son of a bitch to commit crimes like that in Kahanistan - most people had guns to protect themselves from Doomies.

"Thing is, there's no clue what the motive was, Commander. Ms. Donovan does show signs of sexual activity, but we think from what we saw around and talking to her neighbours that she was probably willing. Nothing of value was stolen - her computer, TV set, jewelry, and a safe with over ten thousand shekels are perfectly intact. She doesn't seem to have had a lot of enemies, nobody who hated her enough to want to kill her."

"So, she picks someone up at the bar, has sex with him... he kills her, leaves her, kills a kid, doesn't take anything. Seems to me like a typical lust murder..." said Collins. "We don't have any other reports of a serial killer operating in this area."

"I think it's Lang," said Malena. "He certainly seemed lust-driven. If he hadn't thought he'd be caught, he'd have raped me, probably killed me. He ripped my clothes off... groped me."

"Well it might be Scott and it is our only lead. So might as well go to the scene of the crime." Miles coldly stated. He could not should any emotions to this people. Emotions showed that you were weak.

Collins nodded. Ten minutes later, they were outside a simple one-story house, where a man and woman were sobbing inconsolably and the woman was screaming her head off. A young boy lay down with his head blown off. Police officers picking up small shotgun pellets had by now figured that the boy had fired a shotgun loaded with bird shot and struck his killer, who had apparently taken the shotgun. The boy's father admitted one of his guns had gone missing. Another officer was dusting Kathleen's car for prints, having taken hers - other fingerprints were likely those of her killer... or killers.

"Mr. Collins," said another National Police commander. "Commander Xavier Rathbone, National Police. So far, we've dusted Ms. Donovan's car for prints, and there are no less than a dozen different sets of them, not including hers. There aren't many fewer inside the house, and we're running database checks on the prints we did dig up, but it seems to me we'll just come up with a list of her sexual partners."

"Tell me more," said Collins, stepping out of the jeep. "Have you taken a vaginal swab on her yet?"

"Yes, but it'll be some time before we have a result. If he just penetrated her with a foreign object, we won't even have his DNA to identify the Doomie bastard who raped her. From all the lingerie on her clothes rack, and the rubbers on her desk, she got around a lot... it's not like we have three or four guys to look at, more like dozens."

"Well, aren't we racist..." Collins stood up. "We do have a police sketch of the guy she left Red Dragon with, and there's nothing Doomani about him. He's white as they come."

Miles took note of every detail. He didn't know Scott that well, but this whole case reeked of an agent. That only meant one thing. Scott had raped this women, then killed her and some glory looking boy. But where was Scott right now? That was more of the pressing issue. For now, Miles kept this information to himself.

"Mr. Mason, you seem... preoccupied with something," said Malena. She felt reminded of General Kaselev, the lack of emotional expression, the single-minded devotion to business...

"What do you make of this?"

"It's Scott doing. I can feel it." Miles commented.

Collins nodded. "Probably," he muttered as two medics wheeled a body out of the house and into an ambulance whose sirens did not sound.

"With this... the government will probably issue a statement of protest, at the very least. Miss Sklenova can't politically just sit there after this. Knowing what you do about Mr. Lang... Scott, where do you think he went after this? After a girl was raped here, and another woman killed, people here will probably be more on their guard now."

"He's in the slums. But he will keep on killing." replied Miles.

"That's a very dangerous place," said Collins. "Even members of the National Police won't go in without a partner and a machine gun - that's how bad the crime is there. People will shoot you just for being a cop, and if you travel in a group of cops, they'll attack with rocket launchers, and go after you in packs. We should go there in disguise, split into three groups of three."

Collins retrieved a chain belt, like those used on chain gangs, and put it around his waist. Once he attached Miles to himself with it, Miles could move freely as long as he stayed within six metres (about 20 feet) from Collins. "You'll need the greater mobility. We'll look like a group of convicts picking up litter. You, me, and Trent will search the north slums. Malena, George, and Bill will search the east slums. Andrea, Gina, and Tom will search the west slums. The teams other than mine will have dogs. Do you want the bulletproof vest again?"

Andrea started up the jeep again, getting ready to head for the slums to find Scott.

"No. I will be fine." Miles responded.

"Suit yourself," said Collins. He and the man called Trent, a tall, robust man, already had bulletproof vests on. The other National Police members changed into civilian clothes on the way, and Collins radioed to the Highwood PD to let them know what they were planning.

"Local PD's going to have a chopper watch us. Anything happens to one of the teams, the others will make a beeline for them and the PD'll let Military Intelligence know."

"Whatever..." Miles knew that there was only a slim chance that they would actually find Scott.

The teams split up to search the slums of Highwood for Scott, with dogs, helicopters, and a disguised "litter gang." Andrea and Malena each led groups looking for Scott in other parts of the slum.

Meanwhile, Kahanistanian police tracked down everyone whose fingerprints had shown up in Kathleen's house or car who wasn't hiding, so as to eliminate those who had alibis and could not be the criminal they were hunting. Crime lab specialists also compared a sperm sample from the last girl Scott had raped to what they had swabbed from Kathleen's body. The police figured they were dealing with the same guy, and he was becoming progressively more dangerous.

Dragomir Karovic, the Minister of Foreign Affairs who had been appointed to his post largely due to his willingness to advocate a hard line against Canadstein, sent an angry letter to the Canadsteiner government.

Official Statement of the Free Republic of Kahanistan

The Government of Kahanistan demands an immediate end to your government's established practice of sending covert operatives into our country, committing terrorist acts such as kidnapping our politicians with the intent to murder them and raping and killing ordinary civilians.

To further that end, we require that Mr. Isaac Hull, Director of the Canadstein Intelligence Agency, be extradited to Kahanistan to stand trial on charges of murder and terrorism. We have incontrovertible evidence that the rape of Ms. Elizabeth Morrison, the murder of Ms. Kathleen Donovan, and the murder of Mr. Will Grant, were committed by C.I.A. terrorist Scott Lang, and we can only assume that his terrorist crimes were ordered by the Director.

I am not like the previous Foreign Minister; should I be forced to sever diplomatic relations, they will not be restored so easily. If you insist on harbouring these terrorists, your nation will be regarded as responsible for whatever crimes against our nation they commit.

Signed,
Dragomir Karovic,
Minister of Foreign Affairs

Scott woke up and began his routine. Within ten minutes he was out the door and headed to work.

In the western slums, Andrea walked the police dog, a half wolf, half St. Bernard, powerful canine beast bred not only to search out bodies and follow scents, but to intimidate and subdue suspects. She was accompanied by two members of the National Police. Gina was a small, pretty blonde around 23 and very slim. Tom was a stocky, half-European, half-Arab man of around 30 and very short. Neither of them looked like police officers.

Gina walked up to someone coming out of a seedy bar and asked if he'd seen someone, showing him a photograph of Scott.

---

In the eastern slums, Malena walked a similar brute beast. She was accompanied by two men. George was a tall black member of the National Police and Bill was a short white Military Intelligence officer. They knew Scott had to have a place he was living, so they asked apartment managers and project superintendents if anyone had moved in recently.

---

Karovic sat in his office, awaiting a response from Canadstein: would they accede to his demands, or would he have to resort to harsher measures?

No response was ever sent back from Canadstein. President Harper had more to worry about than some crackpot nation threaten them. Plus he had a massive decision to take care of at the moment. It was going to be swift and hopefully bloodless. But that was hoping for the best. So hopefully the Kahanistani wouldn't bother them any further for the time being. Maybe they would think that the message got lost in translation.

---

Scott walked to the work and noticed if anyone was following him.

Given that most people in Kahanistan spoke English, the letter could not be lost in translation. Karovic figured that Canadstein was simply ignoring him. He decided to force the issue and pay a visit to the Embassy, accompanied by guards.

---

An apartment manager in the slums pointed out where Scott lived, though he didn't know him as Scott. The police sketches and computer images of what he might look like with various disguises, hair colours, skin tones, etc. did match...

The embassy was a gated facility. It wasn't like the gate actually was a real defense measure, but was merely to symbolize a barrier between the embassy and the outside world. Unlike the old embassy there was no secret hiding place. It was just a normal building, well two buildings since it the main building was connected to the barracks/sleeping facility. In the gate house sat a young private, with his head covered by a book.

---

Scott got to work and continued his shift throughout the day. When the police raided his room they would only find a mattress and some hygiene related products. He must have kept his stash of weapons on him, just in case.

Karovic walked up to the guard. He was an older man of Eastern European stock, about six feet tall and around 60 years old. He was dressed in a Western suit over body armour and had about ten guards with him, all heavily armed; one of them had a machine gun and another a heavy anti-tank missile launcher.

"Soldier. I am Dragomir Karovic, Minister of Foreign Affairs. I demand to speak with the Ambassador."

---

Three police officers concealed themselves within Scott's house, even re-locking the locks they'd picked to get in. The only thing noticeable from the outside was the increased helicopter presence and greater presence of ground patrols.

The private, who did not look away from his book, grabbed his beret and put it on. He thought that it was some annoying Kahanistani. But when he put his book down, his eyes widen. The soldier pressed a button, within the guardhouse.

It was pretty oblivious that the young soldier was not trained to deal with this kind of situation. A minute later a lieutenant came out of the main embassy building. He walked outside out of the gate, unarmed, and met Karovic face to face.

"Hello, Minister. What can I do for you?"

---

Scott never returned to the apartment. During the day he thought that it was better to move on and find a new hiding place. Better to move around and not get caught.

"Lieutenant, I want to speak with the Ambassador. This is a very critical situation we have here."

---

The police officers in Scott's apartment remained for two days before giving up. Bars, nightclubs, hotels, and even public swimming pools had notices posted warning people that a serial killer was on the loose, and Scott's picture was posted, along with a sternly worded warning not to harbour him and to contact the National Police if one spotted him.

Over those days, the number of patrols in major cities were stepped up, and checkpoints went up where ID's were scrutinised. Anyone without ID was fingerprinted and administered retinal scans to make sure that Scott wasn't slipping through. They could not assume he had stayed in Highwood during the crackdowns, either.

"Why what's the problem, Minister?" asked the Lieutenant.


---

Once he had seen the posters Scott decided not to show up for work anymore. He was going to become a vagrant. Returning to his old hideout, the bridge, it was best to stay hidden for now.

---

Miles just wondered whose brilliant idea it was to put up posters. That was just telling Scott to hide. They would be luck if he was still within the city. There was only really one hope in find him, if they just let Miles free. Sure they might have two agents on the loose, but at least Miles wouldn't go around killing people. He had promised to find Scott.

"Enough," said Karovic. "Are you going to let me in? This is a very sensitive matter."

---

"Mr. Mason," said Commander Collins, after putting away his mobile. "I've been talking with my superiors, and they... said I can release you from your restraints, but you would have to be accompanied by four members of either National Police or Military Intelligence, and you would be given the same protective gear that they use; body armour, helmet, rifle, etc. We'll also let you handle one of our search dogs."

"Ambassador Brudenell is busy, so you will have to wait." responded the Lieutenant.

---

"I don't want any of your extra weight..." Miles responded.

"Fine, your life to risk," said Collins coldly. "You'll at least take a gun?"

---

Karovic nodded curtly. "Two hours."

"No...not for now." Miles responded.

---

"Two hours before what?" The curious lieutenant asked.

"OK," said Collins. He didn't seem all that bent on protecting Miles. "Let's hunt him down, as soon as everyone gets here."

---

"Two hours until I come in and... begin discussions," said Karovic, visibly irritated at the Canadsteiner's apparent density.

"Any idea what kind of weapons Scott has?" Miles asked.

---

In promptly two hours after the Kahanistani had arrived, the lieutenant reappeared with the Ambassador. Ambassador Brudenell was a strange man. Well in appearance he was. If he would have been born in the nineteenth century and in Germany, then people would have mistaken him for the Kaiser. Brudenell was the splitting of the former German Emperor. Actually it was quite scary to see the resemblance. This of course would explain his nickname "Willie".

"So you must be Mr. Karovic. I am Ambassador Victor Brudenell. I welcome you and your party to our embassy." stated Brudenell in a very stately manner, while the gates to the embassy opened.

"He'd have a shotgun," said Collins. "We found pellets near the boy's body - he'd fired a shotgun and apparently it was taken when he was killed. He probably has some pellet wounds, though they wouldn't debilitate him unless he got an infection. He has at least two police handguns - Glocks - and ammunition. Given that he raped and killed a woman... and most of us own automatic weapons, we can't discount the possibility he has one, and the FN FAL is one of the most common. He'd be slower and easier to track the more guns he took, though, and he'd have trouble concealing heavy weaponry."

---

"Dragomir Karovic, Minister of Foreign Affairs," said Karovic, extending a hand to the Ambassador. Four of his guards entered the base with him. "We should meet in your office."

"Great..." Miles sarcastically replied.

---

Brudenell vigorously shook Karovic's hand. "Okay...if you want to talk then a few adjusts are going to have to be made. Your men will have to stay here. Also they will have to hand over all their weapons. This is Canadsteiner territory and we will not allow foreign guns on it. Just an act of good faith?"

None of the Canadsteiner soldiers were armed. Ambassador Brudenell wanted to negotiate, not start a war.

"You... I trust," said Karovic. "But the Agency has eyes and ears throughout Kahanistan." He nodded to his soldiers, who left the gates. "If I do not come out within 24 hours... you know what to do."

Karovic walked alongside the Ambassador to his office.

Brudenell lead the Minister to his office, then got right down to business. "So why do you come here?"

"You would have gotten a copy of my letter, I presume," said Karovic. He pulled another copy out just in case the Ambassador hadn't. "As you can see, the Agency has been very active here lately. These murders are merely the latest cases; the Agency erased the memory of one of our soldiers, and we are still trying to restore it without the aid of a Canadsteiner doctor - with minimal success, I might add. The government has not responded to my demand that the Agency be withdrawn from our territory, and be held accountable for its actions, let alone extradited Mr. Hull to stand trial as a terrorist. Our government is very displeased with the way yours has handled this situation."

"Well..." Ambassador Brudenell coughed for a moment, wondering if he should tell Karovic a secret. "At this current time we are mounting an operation against the Agency. Just know that they will no longer be considered a problem."

"We were told this months ago," said Karovic. "I believe one of our generals spoke directly to the President. Since this struggle affects our national security as much as yours, I can't merely take your word - especially after your government ignored this complaint. I would like to involve members of our own intelligence service in this operation."

"Sorry Karovic, but that is not possible." replied Brudenell.

"I must insist," said the Minister. "Otherwise, my government cannot trust yours. As we stand today, your government is a threat to our strategic interests, and must be removed as such. I would be forced to remove your embassy, and if another Agency attack takes place, I cannot rule out a military response."

"No...you don't understand. The operation is already underway." replied Victor.

"What can you tell me about this operation?" Karovic seemed skeptical - he had no reason to trust the Ambassador. Did he have something to hide - or worse, was the government simply withholding information from the Ambassador?

"All I know is that the Royal Guard was sent to destroy the Agency. All information was withheld from me." Ambassador Brundenell said in a low voice.

Karovic frowned. His facial expression changed from one of hostility to frustration to disgust. Typical Canadsteiner mentality. He wasn't sure he believed the Ambassador, but he seemed sincere enough, and he was no trained interrogator. Kaselev might have been able to extract information more easily, but he was still hunting Scott. He hadn't even been able to offer more than peripheral assistance in the effort to save General Valens from the Doomani.

The Foreign Minister would have to assume the Ambassador was telling the truth, which he would probably do if he believed Karovic's threat of military intervention. "Very well. What would your government say to us acting on our own intelligence and rendering assistance? If the Royal Guard gets in over its head... and while I am confident in the abilities of your commanders, the Agents are the most feared enemy we have faced, save for the Doomani."

"There is no point. The Royal Guard is the most loyal Regiment in all of the Royal Canadstein Army. Yes they might dress up in old attire from the 1800's, but they report directly to the King. People assume they have no combat experience. Though who else would we want protecting the King, but the finest? These men will destroy the Agency quickly and quietly. Any agent who doesn't surrender will be shot, those who do will be sent off to some government facility to be monitored." Brundenell responded.

Karovic nodded. "Yes, I do assume they have no combat experience - who would they have fought? Canadstein has been a 'neutral' nation since before I was born." The Minister didn't look to be 120 years old, maybe half that. "Few would wish to assassinate the King - it is the President who holds the real power, am I right?"

"The Agency, on the other hand, has people with substantial experience, who, I assume, are smart enough to wear camouflage. I am not saying your soldiers are not capable fighters, but the tactical limitations imposed on them by those gaudy uniforms will place them at a disadvantage our troops would not be subject to."

"Is there anything else you would like to discuss?" asked Brundenell.

"Do you have the locations of Agency bases? We have tried without success to interrogate a captured Agent, and he escaped from one of our military bases, wounded a soldier, and started terrorising the area."

"Me personally no. But I guess someone in other parts of the government would know." Brundenell stated.

"Can you connect me to someone who will know?" asked Karovic. He seemed to be under a great deal of stress; one could tell he was worried about the Praetonian reaction to recent unrelated events.

"The President I guess. You have to understand that I am an Ambassador. I am not too high on the tote pole." replied Brundenell.

Karovic nodded. "He probably would know... whether or not he'd tell is beyond me. Given that he did not respond well to General Kaselev... he probably wouldn't. Do you think anyone lower might know, for example, your Defence Minister or an intelligence director?"

Brundenell shrugged. He usually didn't deal with these kinds of situations.

Karovic extended his hand. "Well, if that is all... I'll be taking my leave." He stood up from his chair.

Brudenell shook Karovic's hand. He escorted him to the door of the embassy, where the Lieutenant was waiting. The Kahanistani soldiers were getting their weapons back.

That night, the Foreign Minister rang the Canadsteiner Minister of Foreign Affairs. He preferred not to go to the President if he didn't have to. Certainly, the Foreign Minister would have to approve Agency operations, lest an international incident be created.

Then again, the Agency didn't seem worried about starting international incidents or even wars. It was worth a shot, though...

If the MFA didn't know anything, Karovic planned to speak with the Defence Minister before going to the President.

The Foreign Affairs Minister, Harry Paget, picked up the phone. That was certainly odd, since he should have been home at the time. Harry was a stickler for order. Though since the recent operation against the Agency, he had too much work. Plus the stress was starting to get to him, and sleep was impossible to get.

"Hello, this is Paget."

"Dragomir Karovic, Minister of Foreign Affairs of Kahanistan," said the man on the other end. "What can your government tell me about... planned operations against the Agency?" Karovic wanted his soldiers to participate in this operation; it was as vital to his nation's security as it was to Canadstein's international reputation.

"How the hell did you find about that? Did that bloody Brudenell tell you about this?" Paget said in a hush tone. Obliviously Ambassador Brudenell wasn't suppose to tell anyone, but for some odd reason did tell Karovic.

Karovic could tell that Paget was pissed. He didn't want to get Brudenell into trouble; if he betrayed him, he'd have a hell of a time getting the Ambassador to trust him if he needed more information. Plus, he'd done the right thing; punishing him for that seemed... wrong.

"No, Mr. Paget," said Karovic calmly. "We found that out with our own intelligence, but we would rather have all the facts on the table. This operation is as important to us as it is to you, and to be honest, I'd rather not have such a critical mission in just the hands of Royal Guards who have never seen combat, and march around in bright uniforms. I'd like to involve soldiers with combat experience and camouflage uniforms."

"If your intelligence was sound, then you would have known that the Royal Guard used camouflage. Do you honestly think that we would have let them run around in the woods with their ceremonial uniforms? As for sending troops, there is no point. The operation is currently underway." Paget said as tried to calm himself down.

"I'm glad to hear that. But I would still feel more at ease if our government had a hand in participating. I'd rather keep it on the down low, so the Praetonians don't find out." Karovic had his office swept for bugs every morning and before discussing sensitive matters, and electronic devices to jam taps.

"You should know that we don't entirely trust your government. Of course, we don't expect you to trust ours, but we would likely be more interested in going after the Agency than killing each other." They had to have some other reason for not wanting him involved... was there even an operation at all, or was it disinformation?

"I'm sorry but there is honestly nothing your government can do." Paget then hung up the phone.

"Asshole." Karovic dialed up the Defence Minister. He didn't think there was nothing his government could do, and the Canadsteiners' obstinate refusal to let him in on the operation made him suspicious that the talk of an operation was disinformation - after all, the President had had ample time to stop the Agency after he'd spoken to Kaselev. He waited for the Defence Minister to answer.

All Karovic got was the answer machine. The Defense Minister must have gone home for the night.

---

Scott prowled the streets at night, not afraid of anything. He was literally a walking arsenal. Silently walking down the streets he looked for his next target.

Scott would have a hell of a time getting laid now - people were more cautious and the police had posted numerous warnings that a serial killer was on the loose. They'd posted police sketches of the man who'd raped the two girls, and DNA samples from the vaginal tracts of the unfortunate raped girls showed that they'd been raped by the same filthy rapist.

---

Karovic swore. He decided to have a nightcap and call back in the morning.

It wouldn't matter if they were cautious. Scott had weapons and there were plenty of dark alleys.

Most of the people in dark alleys at night were just other criminals, or police officers looking for them - patrolling the slums looking for Scott. Women looking for sex tended to congregate in bars or nightclubs. Prostitutes also hung out there, and relatively few did it in dark alleys, most preferring their cars or those of their johns, under a sheet.

A gay man came up behind Scott with a sawed-off shotgun. "Bend over and drop your drawers, punk."

Scott stood still for a second and concentrated. A rapist getting attacked by another rapist. What was the world coming to? Suddenly and violently Scott forcefully brought his elbow into the man's stomach, then turned around. In one motion Scott pulled out a pistol and put it against the man's temple. "How about you bend over, bud?"

The man had scars on his chest and back; he had clearly been shot before. He slammed his head into Scott's.

"I assraped guys twice your size in the joint, little man. Suck my big, meaty cock." This guy had been to prison.

Scott stumbled to the ground. A smirk appeared on his face. He was doing society a favor by killing this man. This rapist was a piece of scum. Scott's pistol was raised then fired. "Yeah...but you have never met a natural born killer."

The man looked stunned, or as stunned as a guy with a hot piece of lead in his forehead can. The shotgun dropped from his hand as he fell to his knees. He grinned like a psychopath as his ass collapsed onto his feet, then he fell forward, flat on his face.

Scott got up and walked over to the man. He picked the sawed off shotgun from the ground. Another gun to add to his arsenal. He felt the weapon, trying to get familiar with it. The shotgun was good enough. As he was looking at the gun, Scott's eyes wandered over to the dead body. Scott put another bullet in his head to make sure the job was finished. "I guess you were all talk and no bite. I'm neither. I just get things done."

In the slums, there was a lot of crime. People might look outside a window, if they were in a high rise and safe from stray bullets, to see what was going on. Most would rather the criminals kill each other than the law-abiding poor that made up most of the slums' population.

---

Collins turned to Miles. "You lead the way. We'll just follow." He had several armed men and women with him, to make sure Miles didn't escape. A chopper was in the air to track him, and Scott if they found him.

"Any recent murders?" asked Miles.

"Not that I know of," said Collins. Murders in the slums took longer to report, and the gay rapist probably wouldn't be reported missing until someone poked around in the alley during the day, or his live-in partner reported him missing after two or three days.

"Okay then lets head out." Miles said walking deeper into the slums.

Collins and his crew followed Miles closely. Although they had managed to get approval to release him from his restraints, they still didn't trust him. He was still an Agent, as far as they were concerned, interested in saving his own ass.

Andrea walked up behind Miles. "Where do you think he is?" She showed a rare flash of interest as the stem cell treatments she had been taking worked slowly to reverse the effects of the lobotomy on her mental processes.

"Somewhere in the slums. It is the easy place to hide. No one cares about you there. Most people just keep their heads down and try to survive. The last thing on their minds is another criminal." Miles responded to Andrea. A hint of warmth was in his voice.

---

Scott had quickly gotten away from the scene of the crime. It wasn't a good idea to stick around. Traveling through the dark alleys, Scott finally caught when something caught his eyes, a parking lot. A perfect place to catch someone off guard. Scott hid himself in the dark waiting for his next target.

A young man got off from his part time job as a garbage collector. He walked through the parking lot to his car, tripping over another guy hidden in the parking lot...

Meanwhile, less than two kilometres away, Andrea's search dog perked up. He sounded like he'd caught a whiff of something.

Scott stood motionless and continued to watch for a new victim.

---

"Sounds like the dog caught a whiff of something. What should we do?" asked Miles.

The man got up and approached his car - the one right in front of Scott's line of vision. He pulled out a keychain and began to put the key into the driver's side door.

---

"Go after them," said Collins. "Let heli support know where we're going."

Miles simply nodded his head.

The man opened the door to his car and began to start his engine.

---

Collins led the group north. It would be about fifteen minutes before they arrived at where Scott was.

Hearing a large movement behind him Scott started to walk out of the alley. It was time to move.

What Scott saw was a young man of average size and Middle Eastern complexion opening the door to his car and climbing in. He pushed the key into his ignition.

---

"Keep up," said Collins. "We never know what he's going to do next."

Scott walked up to the car and pulled out his glock. There was no chance of him missing. "Get out of the car now."

---

"If it is in fact Scott. For all we know it could just be an article of his clothing." commented Miles.

The man climbed out of his car, taking his keys with him. He didn't seem willing to put up a fight against someone with a gun.

"Hand over the keys too. Jeez...honestly what did you think I was doing? I want to steal your car." Scott angrily said.

The man casually tossed his keys into the car. "Jesus... stealing this hunk of junk." Why can't he just use the welfare system like everyone else here? He seemed to have the idea that discretion was the better part of valour. I think I saw that son of a bitch somewhere...

"Get into the back. We are going for a little ride." Scott stated, motioning the glock to the car.

"My mom told me never to get in a car with a stranger," said the young man. He'd given Scott his car, and wasn't going to be a hostage, too.

"You cocky little son of a bitch. Just for that your mom isn't going to see you again. Well she will at your funeral." Scott fired the glock, which was aimed at the young man's head.

The guy ducked behind the car next to his when he saw the gun come up. He drew his own weapon, a .50 Desert Eagle, and spotted out the corner of his eye. His eyes shifted in both directions; he couldn't assume Scott would attack him from the closest side.

Scott got down on the ground and started to fire at the guy's leg. Now he was going to pay for it.

Guards heard the shooting and came running as the man screamed and shifted his wounded leg. Shooting under the car would not kill him unless he took a hit to an artery, but it could be very painful. He fired around the corner at Scott.

---

Collins heard over his radio - shots fired at a garbage dump about half a kilometre away. The dogs were sniffing in that direction - Scott had to be there.

Scott quickly got back up and jumped over the car. While jumping over the car he accidentally hit the guy. Now over him he directed the pistol to the man's head. "Game over bud."

Scott pulled the trigger.

---

"You know...if you let me run freely, then we could get there faster." Miles commented trying to run as humanly possible, but the cord was bringing him down.

Collins was able to run as fast as Miles, so he wasn't holding him up. "Malena... let him go." She ran up and unfastened the belt. They would follow Miles closely, but only shoot him if he tried to escape.

"There'll be backup coming in about five minutes. Guards at the dump reported a gunfight between two men, one guy matches Mr. Lang's description."

---

The man squeezed his own trigger, but the hot lead in his head made aiming impossible. The guards came up in time as the guy fell. One of them called an ambulance while another, lacking any sense of fire discipline, opened full automatic fire where the shots had come from.

Miles started to sprint ahead of the group. Now he was going to be able to capture Scott. The rest of these Kahanistani were weighting him down. As the scenery sped by Miles something was happening. He was getting into the zone. Miles hadn't felt this since his failed abduction of Nadia and Andrea. But now he was using it for something good. Turning a corner, Miles knew that it would be for the best to lose to the main group. If they cared to follow him by the time they turned the corner he was gone.

---

Scott quickly picked up the Desert Eagle and tucked it into his waistline. He fired a couple shots off at the guards. While the guards were distracted he opened the passenger door, then jumped inside. Scott knew when it was best to run. Crawling to the driver's side, Scott retrieved the keys then put them into the ignition. Suddenly the car swerved backwards, then gunned straight for the exit. Once on the main road knew that he only minutes before the cops would be on his tail.

Collins and Malena were the only ones who could keep up to Miles. They ran at full speed until they got to the parking lot.

---

The guards might have lacked fire discipline, but they didn't distract so easily from being shot at - it was part of their training. The guard who had been radioing in for an ambulance now fired on the car. A flat tire wouldn't slow it down in time, but a disabled engine or driver, or ruptured fuel tank, might do the trick...

Scott saw a sign that marked an exit for the highway. It was time to test this car out. Turning a left, he made his way onto the highway.

---

"Get to the guards. I am going to bring Scott down." Miles pointed to the guards, then ran off into the street. Once in the street he got into the middle of the lane. He was going to make a car stop. The chase was a foot.

An elderly man slammed on the brakes as he drove down North Elm Street. "Crazy son of a bitch!" he shouted as Miles stepped into his path. He stopped less than fifteen centimetres from running over Miles. Old people have slower reaction times.

The man was in his 80's, and short - about 5'3". He didn't look like he'd be a match for Miles.

---

"I don't trust him. Malena, go help the guards. I'll stay with Miles." Collins looked at the agent in shock.

Miles pulled out his gun and aimed it directly at the old man. It was not the time to be subtle or kind. Slowly he made his way around the car to the driver's side. "Get out of the car. I need to chase a criminal..."

Collins pulled his weapon, but did not aim it. His duty was to protect the civilian population. "I can't allow this... Sir, can you let us borrow your vehicle? We are chasing someone more dangerous than a carjacker."

The man seemed willing to listen to the National Police commander, but a bit untrusting.

Miles wasn't going to wait around. Every second that passed, the further Scott away. Suddenly Miles opened the door and grabbed the old man. Tossing him to the side, Miles looked back. He pointed over toward Malena. "I will make sure your car gets back to you. Just talk to that woman over there."

Quickly he got into the car. He seemed as though he was not waiting for Collins. It would be for the best. This was a fight between Scott and Miles. He locked the car, then put his foot on the gas. Turning the wheel, the car spun around. But it was stopped by the brake. The car was turned completely around. Miles looked at Collins for a second and shook his head. The car then took off down the street, following after Scott.

The car dragged Collins about two hundred metres down the road. The officer screamed loudly as he was pulled off his feet at at least five times as fast as he'd run in his life. He'd been trying to get in through the passenger side door, but lost his grip when Miles rocketed down the road. The commander was still alive, but badly shaken and disoriented.

"Miss?" It was the man. Malena stopped briefly. An ambulance nearly ran her over as it screeched into the parking lot.

"Yes?"

"A guy ran off with my car. Looked a lot like that Mason freak. Are you one of those Agency spooks, too?"

Malena shook her head. "Kahanistan Military Intelligence. Son of a bitch can't be trusted..." She radioed for Collins. "Commander, please respond."

No use. "Great... now what?" She took the man by the hand and walked down in the direction Miles had driven.

Miles kept on driving after Collins had fallen off. As he drove down the street he wiped his brow. Great now the Kahanistani would think that he was trying to escape too. But in reality he was trying to find Scott. The more pressing issue was where Scott had gone. They were both agents. That means they had the same training. They were taught the same things. Learned from the same teachers. Thinking for a moment, something caught his eyes. A sign for the exit to the highway. Scott had taken that. Miles quickly made a turn and got onto the highway. An agent was going to die together, but which one was yet to be determined.

---

Meanwhile Scott thought that he had safely gotten away. He saw no signs of the police, in the air or ground. Probably because they had no real idea what he was driving. The owner of the car was dead and the two guards had concentrated more on Scott. A smirk appeared on his face. It was time to find a new town and start a new.

Malena and the old man went up to Collins. He was breathing heavily, still conscious, and bleeding where he had smacked his head on the sidewalk.

"Did you hear anything from the dump?" asked the commander.

"No," said Malena. "I came to help you." The commander's radio went off; he picked up traffic between the local police and the dump guards. The ambulance had taken the victim and the police were poring over security footage. They knew only that the car Scott was in had bullet holes in it, and Scott himself may or may not have been hit.

"Fine," said Collins. He radioed for one of the National Police to coordinate with the city PD. He'd have to find a way to catch Miles without putting his own ass on the line for letting Miles get away. Collins had a spare National Police cruiser brought in; he'd have to chase after Miles when the Agents had a good ten minutes head start on him.

Both men kept within the speed limit. No need to draw attention to themselves. As Miles drove down the highway it seemed like Scott was getting out of the city. Thinking just like an agent. Well that was going to be Scott's downfall.

Collins stood up as a spare police car arrived. He turned to the old man.

"Does your car have a GPS?" he asked.

"Yeah," said the man.

"Good. Malena, track it for me. I'm going after them." He climbed into the cruiser.

"You're wounded," said Malena. "Is it a good idea? I can drive."

"Yes..." Collins didn't want Malena taken hostage again, raped or murdered. He didn't know how to tell her - if he said so outright, she'd likely respond that she understood the risks. "But this is a police matter. You're intel, you can feed me the intel when you track him." He started up the cruiser, flicked on his sirens, and tore off, despite the fact that blood was covering his right eye from where he had fallen from the car.

About ten miles outside of the city Scott's car started to break down. This was the last thing he needed. Pulling off to the side of the highway, he got out and took an assessment of the car. The car had driven its last miles. Scott decided to wait on the side of the highway and flag down a car.

---

Meanwhile Miles continued to drive down the highway. It would another five minutes before he saw Scott.

Since Scott's picture had by now been all over the news, he was lucky not to be simply run over by the passing motorists. People weren't going to stop, especially when there had been a recent shooting over a car. A few slowed down but sped away when they got a close enough look at him.

After three minutes, Miles would notice a police car in hot pursuit of him...

Miles didn't even notice the police. They were barely a threat to him. Off in the distance he thought he had seen Scott. Rubbing his eyes, he looked again. It was that bastard. Speeding up he rammed the car straight into Scott's car. Scott had fallen to the ground, but quickly got up. Once he saw Miles face they both froze. But Scott was the first to react. He pulled out his glock and started to fire away. Miles ducked down, then checked his own pistol. He hoped that one magazine was enough.

While Miles was busy checking his pistol, Scott saw the police sirens off in the distance. He scurried off into the forest. Miles got back up and fired off a shot, but noticed that Scott was running off into the forest. Kicking the car door open, Miles then took off after Scott. As he ran he did not hear the police sirens. The only thing he heard was his own heartbeat.

The police cruiser arced around Miles and slammed on its brakes right in his path. Collins climbed out, carrying an FN FAL and fully armoured. He was still covered in blood from his injuries.

Miles jumped onto the hood and ran on top of the car. Did they honestly think a simply car was going to stop Miles from getting Scott? Miles swore underneath his breath. These Kahanistani were just creating barriers, so he couldn't catch Scott. Isn't that what they wanted? Well now wasn't the time to ask questions. Not looking back Miles continued to follow Scott into the forest.

Collins ran after Miles. This was his last chance - would Miles help him or join Scott in committing crimes all over Kahanistan? He had only one eye that wasn't coated in clotted blood, but one eye was all he needed to pursue Miles.

Of course, if he saw Scott, he'd shoot him first, then give Miles one last chance...

Both men were traveling fairly quickly. With almost lighting quick reflexes they dodged any incoming branches. Scott wasn't going to give up with a fight. This came apparent when he would occasionally turn around and fire his glock. The bullets would be far off from Miles, but there was still that slim chance. Miles wondered how he was going to deal with Scott. He was literally a walking arsenal. The police and military had only a rough estimate of what he had, but the estimate was still a fair amount of weapons.

Collins ran through the forest, keeping on Miles' tail. He knew that Miles only had so much ammunition and wouldn't likely waste it on him unless he fired first. Scott had a few weapons, but the ammunition was likely incompatible with the other guns, and he probably wasn't well trained with them all. Collins was only trained with a few weapons, so he'd had more time on the ones he had.

When Scott turned to fire on Miles, Collins gained on him. He waited for one or the other Agent to run out of ammunition or turn their weapon on him before making his move...

The chase continued without even a second of stopping. This mad race was going to have to end eventually and it was going to result in a death. Scott continued to fire his weapons occasionally, but turning back around was not such a good idea. Looking back at Miles, Scott fired his gun. He did notice that the ground suddenly got steeper. Loosing his footing Scott fell down the hill. Tumbling down he cursed himself. Finally he stopped in the middle of a small creek. Painfully Scott got up. Checking himself over he winced. Small cuts were all over his body. He looked back up the hill and no sign of Miles yet. A grin appeared through his pain.

Miles, thankfully, saw the drop and walked down the hill carefully. He could see the disturbed areas where Scott had fallen down. Making his way to the creek, Miles saw a trail of blood. So Scott was injured. Miles was going to have to put that to use. Following the trail, Miles ended up further down the creek. But where had Scott gone. Suddenly the blood trail ended. Miles looked all around him. A click went off behind his head. He turned around to see a sawed off shotgun pointed at his head. The man carrying the weapon was Scott. It had been a trap.

"So we met again Miles. How does it feel? The last I saw you it was the opposite way around. Betraying your own countrymen to these bunch of rats. You are sick..." Scott trailed on.

Thinking quickly Miles grabbed Scott's hand, then punched him directly in the stomach. As Scott cursed and fell to his knees, Miles took off. But he wasn't fast enough. A massive bloom echoed through the forest. Miles staggered for a bit, then fell into the creek. Scott looked at his fellow agent. The job had been done.

Collins leveled his FN FAL when Scott stopped. While he was busy with Miles, the cop stopped, aimed, and fired his weapon at Scott. He rushed up to Miles to drag him out of the water and render whatever medical assistance he could, but his first aid training was comparable to that of an average lifeguard. He would be able to stop bleeding or restore breathing, but if Miles' injuries were more serious than that, he'd have his work cut out for him. Lord knew how far he was from the nearest road, or where a medevac chopper could land.

Scott charged, like a wild bull, at Collins, who was busy tending to Miles, and kicked him down to the ground. In a flash Scott started to punch Collins, who was probably stunned from the kick, in the face repeatedly. This cop was going to die, but first Scott wanted him to suffer. Feeling that he had given the cop a good pummel for now; Scott broke the FN FAL from the man's grasp, then threw it deeper into the woods. "Come on pretty boy...get up and fight me. I guess not…well I will have to change that."

Scott, with a smirk, grabbed the cop up his collar. With all of his might he punched him directly in the stomach. Then he threw him into a trunk of tree. “Get up and fight or you will be shot.”

Collins pulled his Glock. Bullshit. He's going to shoot me anyway. Briefly wondering how Scott was magically still alive after this, he pointed and fired. He had the advantage - he had a helmet and body armour. Miles had gone in without it, and was going to die if the commander couldn't get to him soon.

---

Where the crash had taken place, the rest of Collins' team arrived. They saw three sets of tracks, and three cars, one of them a police cruiser.

"Reckon Adrian's OK?" asked one of the cops. Malena shook her head sadly.

"He went in there with two Agents. If Mason is sincere... he may be OK, but otherwise, he wouldn't stand a chance against two Agents." She made sure her armour was on securely and looked at Andrea.

"He... made you suffer, didn't he?" she asked. "The other Agent nearly raped me. He's made a lot of people suffer." She hugged Andrea. "We should go in."

"Take the helicopter," said Andrea, turning her attention to a cop. It would be hard to see anything through the forest canopy, but an eye in the sky never hurt anything, and the team had dogs to track within the forest...

Scott went back a little bit. But that did not stop him from producing an eerie grin. "You shouldn't have done that."

It is if the bullets had no effect on Scott. Suddenly Scott went up to Collins and grabbed his hand. He smashed a couple of times against the tree trunk, until his hands drew blood and the pistol feel to the ground. Scott pulled out his pistol and shot both of Collins' kneecaps. This cop wasn't going anywhere now. Slowly he picked up the glock, then threw it into the forest. Then he proceed to beat up the cop. This guy was going to suffer for what he had done to Scott.

After losing his FN FAL, Collins wasn't going to loosen his grip on his last weapon. He held on tight and discharged the weapon in the scuffle, tearing into Scott's nuts, then hooked his arm around Scott's leg to drag him down to his level. He seemed to have no conception that his only hope of survival was to stay alive until his crew tracked him down through his GPS, or the tracks he left in the woods... or that he was also Miles' only hope of survival.

Scott elbowed him in the stomach, then quickly got away from Collins. He pulled out his Desert Eagle and fired away at Collins' chest area. Now he was pissed.

Collins dropped to the ground, pretending to be dead. He certainly wasn't going to chase after Scott, not with those wounds. With luck, he could even pull Scott to the ground again and whale on him if he stopped to try to finish him off.

---

The team looking for Collins and the Agents had an easier time than they did - they knew exactly where they were going: where the dogs took them. A chopper over the creek pointed out a human figure, but did not identify Miles. They had a pretty good idea of where they were.

Scott wanted to make sure the job was finished. He couldn't have any loose ends. Walking slowly up to Collins; Scott aimed his Desert Eagle at Collins. If this guy moved even an inch he was going to be full of hole. Once within range of being take down by a physical act, Scott hurried up and put the gun against Collins temple.

"Better say your prayers, buddy...because you are already dead."

Collins smiled and wrenched the gun out of Scott's grip, moving his head in case it went off during the struggle. He delivered a powerful Krav Maga blow to Scott's knee and jerked hard on his leg to drag him down. Dogs barked in the distance.

---

The helicopter descended to about two metres above the creek. An officer was able to identify the man in the creek as Miles, and moved to block him floating past it, so he could be grabbed and pulled into the helicopter. They'd have to life-flight him if he was to have any chance of making it out...

Scott got up and tried to pull out one of his numerous guns, but was soon stopped by a barrage of bullets. He stopped dead in his tracks as the blood started to appear through his shirt. At least five bullets had hit him in the chest area. There was no way that Scott could have lived through that. He staggered for bit cursing, then slumped to the ground. Scott Lang was finally dead. But who had killed the killer?

No other than Miles Mason. He was a little ways in the woods with Collins' FN FAL. Miles had finally done it. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Miles sighed. He propped himself up with the FN FAL, then looked at Collins painfully. They both knew that help was on the way. Miles nodded to the man, then disappeared into the forest.

"Mr. Mason... you're wounded. Stay with me."

Collins lowered his head and lost consciousness. He had lost a fair amount of blood and would be in considerable pain when he came to.

The dog team heard the shots and rushed in the direction of where they had come from, but found only Scott's body next to Collins. Scott had several wounds and was almost certainly DOA, and in any event Collins had medical priority. He, too, was wounded, and would need his knees replaced while he sat at a desk recuperating. The dogs were confused, though.

Malena and another officer sat next to the downed men. They radioed for medical assistance and checked the men for vitals. Collins was still breathing, so they propped his legs up on a nearby log and did CPR on Scott till the medevac found a relatively safe place to land. The evidence suggested Miles had been sincere - Collins' pistol could not have done that kind of damage to Scott through his armour.

Another team was called in to locate Miles, but for now, getting Collins and Scott to a hospital took precedence. The medevac headed for a secured military facility where the hospital could be secured, even though Scott was probably dead and Collins could just as easily have his joints replaced in another facility.

The team would search in vain. It seemed as though Miles had simply vanished like a ghost, but he had lived to his word. Scott had been captured/killed and his reign of terror over. Miles hoped that this would somewhat redeem his name, but he wasn't going to count on that. As he ventured the forest he was finally free again. Free to roam and to live. No longer was the agency going to come after. For all anyone knew he was dead. Miles could finally live in peace, of course until the Kahanistani needed him, though first he wanted a nice long rest.

In the hospital, Scott was taken into an ER with guards, including heavily armoured guards. The doctors didn't even know if he was alive or not; the damage to his internal organs didn't look too compatible with CPR. They operated anyway; only time and the machines would tell if he were alive.

Collins had his knee joints replaced with titanium ones like Christi's. He would have full mobility in a month or so; in the meantime he'd have to sit at a desk and walk ten minutes or so a day to get used to them, and rely on swimming for his cardio.

The police still wanted to find Miles, though they were ill motivated after he'd apparently saved one of them. They trusted him a bit better than they had before, but there were still those who didn't like him, and many of them were in military intelligence.

Scott had died in that creek. Too many bullets, too much blood gone, and not enough organ functions. There was really no use operating on him. He was long gone, though that cocky grin was still on his face, frozen in time.

---

Miles wasn't going to be found. Unless he wanted to be caught. He planned on living a peaceful life, until something caught his attention and his skills might be used. But the only skills he was going to use from his Agency training, were the blending ones. Miles was going to become a Kahanistani, under the name of Erik Henriksen, though first he had to get out of this forest. Only good times laid ahead for Miles.

---

Another Canadsteiner was making his own journey, but it wasn't through a forest. It was on a street, like any street in the world. Suddenly he stopped in front of a house, then took a deep breath. Looking at the address written on the paper, then back at the house number. He was going to make sure he was at the right house. Walking up to the door he softly knocked on the door of the Hargan's home. When the door opened it would reveal Taylor Hall.

---

Pete Amherst looked around for a bit, then entered a phone booth. He was no longer in Kahanistani. A week ago he had taken a flight back to Canadstein, his home. See Pete hadn't really told Christi the whole truth about himself. In fact he was an Captain in the Military Intelligence Directorate. Pete had been sent to watch over Christi while she was in country, but that quickly went to hell once the Agency interfered. Luckily Pete wasn't going to have to deal with those assholes. The Agency had been destroyed and the agents either arrested or scattered like ashes in the wind. If Pete was ever in Kahanistan again he was going to have to give a call to Christi. She knew how to please a man.

The Kahanistanians gave up working on Scott. They sent his body back to Canadstein, cocky grin and all. With Miles' disappearance, Commander Adrian Collins was awarded a medal and credited with killing Scott. While he did not claim such credit for himself, he did accept the honour and the National Police declared the "Agency menace" over.

Rick Hargan did not believe it. This Canadsteiner piece of shit had defiled his daughter and ruined her life. His wife adamantly refused to let him answer the door with a shotgun to blow Taylor's head off. She opened the door to let Taylor in.

"Molly is upstairs," she said. Molly's father looked on from behind, an expression of pure rage on his face. He wanted nothing more than to shoot, shovel, and shut up.

With the Agency gone, Senator Petrova decided to take Prince Nicholas up on his offer to visit Canadstein. She boarded a plane, took a few sets of clothes, and dressed modestly, in slacks and a loose-fitting blouse and jacket. She went without guards, weapons, or even a bullet-resistant vest to show her trust in the new order, and hopefully get the hardliners in her party to see the light. There were still many in the Nationalist Party that wanted to invade Canadstein for the crap the Agency had pulled.

"Thank you." Taylor said nodding toward both of Molly's parents.

As he walked up the stairs he did not even seem to notice Rick's angry stare. All Taylor wanted to do was see Molly. See he was heading out early today, to go back to Canadstein. He was still in the military and hadn't finished his enlistment. But that means he would have to leave Molly behind. There was only one thing he could do.

Taylor looked down the hallway and guessed which one was Molly's room. He softly knocked on the door, then entered. "Molly..."

---

When Senator Petrova arrived, she traveled around Canadstein in style, but not with Prince Nicholas. Both his brother, Rudolf, and Nicholas were currently hosting an Empress in Northern Canadstein, but that didn't mean she was not being escorted by a royal family memeber. King Albert IV and his wife, Queen Victoria, had been her host, though they were sorry that Nicholas couldn't show her around. Over the course of a week Alyssa was shown the royal palaces, the parliament, and various other important building. She also had dinner with the President and spent the last two days in the peaceful countryside, which had just gotten fresh snow. The Canadsteiners were trying very hard to impress her. They wanted to improve their appearance in Canadstein.

Taylor had a 50/50 chance of getting it... and Molly answered. She was dressed for bed, in a light yellow silk robe. "Hi."

---

"I... I'm glad to have met you," said Alyssa to the President. "So, I've heard that there have been political changes. What happened to the Agency, exactly? Dr. Karovic mentioned something to me, but he didn't seem to have all the details."

"Molly...I can't live without you. You are the only girl for me...so I was wondering if you would marry me. I want you to be with you forever..." Taylor stumbled a long, then pulled out a massive diamond ring. It was oblivious that no expense was too much for Molly.

---

President Harper looked at Alyssa, then he coughed for a second. "Well the Royal Guard and the 11th Hussars went to their facilities and utterly destroyed them. Frankly I am glad. The Agency did provide when asked, but they were just downright reckless. They answered only to that insane Director Hull. But just know they have been eliminated and Kahanistan has no need to worry about them anymore. I hope the rest of your journey to Canadstein is pleasant."

Then President Harper was soon escorted out of the room by two men.

Molly smiled warmly. She slipped the diamond ring onto her finger and it fit perfectly. She nodded and sat down on the bed, then burst into tears. "I... will."

Her father couldn't hear the conversation, but he did hear her crying. That bastard had done something to her, he knew. He just knew. He went for the shotgun again, but his wife was too fast for him.

"You aren't going to shoot him just because he said something to her. You don't even know why she's crying," said her mother.

---

Alyssa smiled. Just as I thought. She'd have to ask someone else what happened to Hull. She hoped he'd been executed, but she'd be content to hear he was rotting away in a federal pound-me-in-the-ass prison for the rest of his worthless life.

"Molly...will you come back to Canadstein with me? I know that you have just met your parents, but they can come too. As long as you are happy; I will do whatever you want. Money is not an option. I just want you by my side." Taylor joined Molly on her bed and hugged her. Tears were running down from his place. He was just so happy.

---

Harry Paget, the Foreign Minister, came to Alyssa. Obliviously during the course of the dinner he had taken in an interest in her, but was too far away to start a conversation. The other guests were mingling still, so it was the perfect time to strike. Harry made his way over to her and extend his arm. "Harry Paget, Foreign Minister of Canadstein. I am sorry but you seem to be new here. Are you a new girlfriend of one of the guests?"

Molly nodded. "I will. My father won't want to come, though. I'll have to find some arrangement I can come to with my government. The military still wants to restore my memories. Apparently the Doomani have a way to destroy memories and the military thinks it can give them an edge in fighting them if they can reverse it here. They want me to resume my career when they finish it."

---

Alyssa shook her head. "No. Senator Alyssa Petrova, Nationalist Party of Kahanistan." She took Paget's hand.

"Molly...I mean today. See this is my last day in Kahanistan and I had to ask you. I can get you a plane ticket easily. Will come with me right now? Molly you are pretty much a Canadsteiner. Your life in Kahanistan is gone. Can you even remember anything at all, besides the produced memories?" Taylor asked. He felt a tinge of pain when Molly mentioned the memories. Her old life was gone forever. Yes there was the occasionally slip here and there, but she had been effectively Canadsteinized. If the Doomani had a machine to destroy memories, then nothing would be let. She would just be an empty soulless body. Taylor wasn't going to let them take her away.

---

"Oh...sorry. Usually politicians aren't as beautiful as you. So why have you come to Canadstein?" Harry casually asked.

"Very little, fragmented. I'll come with you. I'll talk to Dr. Morgan when I get there. She'll want to see me, probably work with a Canadsteiner doctor to help me. The Agency's been destroyed, so the civilian government should have whatever files weren't destroyed on it.

---

Alyssa smiled. "Thanks. I'm here on the invitation of Prince Nicholas, but I wanted to meet with some influentials, too."

"Thank you..." Taylor wiped the tears from his eyes and tenderly kissed Molly. As he let Molly go he produced a ticket from his pocket. He put it down on Molly's bed. "Our flight is leaving in five hours, so get your stuff together, though what should we do about your family?"

---

Harry led Alyssa over to a nearby table, so they could continue their conservation in private. "So I am guessing that your government will be glad that the Agency is gone? If you ask me it couldn't have come sooner. They were a diplomat's worse nightmare. They literally had free reign and caused all sorts of problems. But luckily past Foreign Minister and ambassadors have kept everything status quo. Something bad would have happened if the Agency stayed around. Mostly likely the neutrality of Canadstein being threaten."

A waiter came over and asked the pair if they cared for something to drink. Harry ordered a bourbon to finish off the evening.

Molly only had a couple of bags. "They'll let me go. My mom is tolerant, my dad still hates you, but he won't stop you. He thinks what they did... means I can't make my own decisions."

---

Alyssa nodded. "Whiskey. You're telling me. I would have come sooner if I didn't fear being assassinated. What happened to Isaac Hull?"

"Molly...you can. You made your own decision to come with, marry me, and love me. If you don't call those decisions, then I don't know what a decision is really." Taylor grabbed a couple of her bags. Outside a tax was waiting to take them to the airport. He loaded the stuff inside the car, and waited for Molly outside near the taxi. Taylor was going to let her say good-bye to her parents alone. Plus he wanted to be out of the seeing range of Molly's father. Taylor just hoped that he eventually came around.

---

When Harry heard that name he downed his bourbon. "I can't talk about him here. I probably shouldn't even tell you, but I am."

Producing a pen and paper; Harry quickly wrote down an address. He slipped it over to Alyssa. "If you want to know more about Issac Hall, then come to this address. Also...wear something a little more comfortable."

Harry got up and joined the rest of the guests.

Molly couldn't face the emotional conflict with her father. She lowered herself out her bedroom window to rejoin Taylor and get in the car.

---

Alyssa put the paper in her pocket. She took a sip of whiskey and joined the guests, remembering not to drink too much - she'd have to drive to this address.

Soon enough Taylor and Molly were headed to Canadstein. Taylor hoped that only happiness came to them.

Molly couldn't wait to return. She knew she had a family in Kahanistan, but Canadstein had always been and would always be her home.

---

Alyssa returned to her table and took another sip. She mingled with the guests; she wanted to know what the average Canadsteiner thought about Kahanistan.

"I think the Kahanistani are already, but they just think so badly of us. What have we done besides be neutral? Nothing. I mean even if these terrorist were Canadsteiners. It doesn't mean we are all terrorists. Just because a few of Canadsteiners might have acted out; doesn't give the Kahanistani people to hate us. But what are you going to do? The world still continues." commented a young diplomat. A murmur of agreement seemed to point out how the Canadsteiners felt.

"I agree," said Alyssa. She wasn't sure she agreed with what seemed like a blanket denial of the Agency's activities - did they all believe their government? "The people at large don't hate you, at least the ones who voted for me. They think the government needed... its left hand knowing what the right hand is doing, so to speak. They don't have a problem with the Canadsteiner people. Even the Anti-Catholic Party... most of its support comes from popular resentment against the Doomani. Only a few of them have spoken against Canadstein as a people."

"Well it doesn't matter. The Kahanistani have already made their decision. There is no turning back. I for one think that they will always hate us. Luckily we are three thousand miles away. We have peace and what do they have? A starving and homeless population." The young diplomat stating his honest opinion. Shaking his head, he walked away. The man turned back around. "Lady...just know that we have tried...but your government will just never forgot..."

Alyssa shook her head and walked back to her table. She finished off her whiskey and sat there, waiting for the meeting to either end or for someone to approach her.

The meeting ended near a quarter to 11. By then most of the people had left to go home. The only other people within the room were a group of men in the corner smoking some cigars and drinking whiskey. A man approached Alyssa, then tapped her on the shoulder. "If you do not recognize me, then I am Michael, the royal family's driver. Are you ready to return to the palace?"

Alyssa nodded. "OK." She'd have to remember to meet the Foreign Minister tomorrow.

The driver took Alyssa back to the palace without a hitch, though Harry Paget wondered all night why Alyssa hadn't come. He put those thoughts out of his mind, then went to sleep.

That morning, Alyssa knocked on Paget's door. She had assumed he'd want to see her the following day, when they'd both had some rest and could talk without being tired. As he had asked, she was in something more comfortable, a casual tropical print dress. Her long brown hair hung loosely around her shoulders and neck.

When the door opened a boxer wearing messy hair Harry stood in the doorway. His eyes were fully closed. He seemed to mumbling about something. Harry must have just woken up. Shaking his head; Harry then got a good look at the doorbell ringer. His eyes immediately opened up wider than ever. It was definitely surprised to see Alyssa. He thought that she stood him, but he wasn't now proven wrong. "Sorry about my appearance. I had just woken up. If I would have know you were coming, then I would have been prepared. Have you had breakfast yet?"

Harry led Alyssa inside and closed the door behind the pair.

Alyssa shook her head. "No. I thought you wanted me to come today, you didn't specify a time and I thought you would want to see me when you were rested."

---

Molly arrived home without a hitch. (Canadstein was her home.)

"Oh sorry just a small misunderstanding. I stayed up until 2 in the morning. But what has been done has been done. So what do you want for breakfast?" asked Harry with a pleasing smile.

Alyssa looked up. "I usually eat light in the morning, lean bacon or chicken," she said. "Now, what was it you wanted to say to me about Hull?"

Harry went to refrigerator and started to dig around. "Well what do you want to know? I saw you talking to President Harper and there is only one thing you could have been talking about, the Agency. But afterwards you looked a little bit disappointed. I came to the conclusion it was about Director Hull.

"How does some bread rolls, jam, ham, and a soft-boiled egg sound? And do you take coffee or something else?" Harry called from inside the refrigerator.

"Coffee's fine," said Petrova. "What you have seems OK." She decided to put off further questions until they were eating.

"So how has your visit been so far?" asked Harry while preparing breakfast.

"Pretty good. Saw a lot of the royal palaces, met the President, got mistaken for his girlfriend. Have you ever been to Kahanistan? Sklenova's really nice, when you get to know her. She'll be thrilled to know the Agency's gone."

"Not yet. Maybe one day, when Canadsteiners are not hated so much. I just feel like it would be a mob scene if I came there. I do not want to endure hate because of what the Agency has done." Harry commented. "I just hope that our countries can go back to the status quo, even after all that has happened. So why exactly did you come to Canadstein?"

"Prince Nicholas said I should come," said Alyssa. "He met me when I was running for President. I decided to take him up on it when the campaigning was over, and the threat of being assassinated by the Agency was over, and I was sure we weren't going to end up in another war."

"There will always be those who hate. We even have political parties dedicated to espousing hate. That is the status quo in post-war Kahanistan." She crossed her legs. "Is your government committed to its neutrality again?"

"Yes...we rather not meddle in world events. Luckily we have another agency ready to ensure that nothing happens to Canadstein, the Military Intelligence Directorate. The MID is under direct control of the President. They can't do anything unless President Harper approves. Plus the agents are officers, so they have to follow the laws within each country. How does that sound?" Harry said finishing up the soil-boiled egg. Once the eggs and ham were done cooking Harry loaded them onto a plate and brought them over to where Alyssa was sitting. He scurried back to the kitchen and retrieve a basket and jar of jam. Sitting back down, Harry took a bread roll out of the basket and put some jam on it. "Alyssa...you must know that I think you are beautiful and sexy. That might be the only reason I invited you here to answer your questions. If you weren't those two things, then I would have mostly liked ignored you at the party. See I want to get close to you...get to know you better."

His eyes traveled down toward her breasts.

The reforms sounded good - much like the system in Kahanistan. Alyssa scooped the eggs down her throat and nodded to Paget. She caught his eyes glancing at her breasts. They weren't that big, but she did keep in the same shape she'd been in when she was with Special Forces.

"Thanks," said Alyssa. She smiled widely. "So, what do you want to know about me? I'm 36, ex-military, served till about eight years ago. I'm divorced, with a nine-year-old boy. I'm 170 centimetres, that would be about... 5'7" tall?"

"Well what do you want to know?" asked Harry with a devilish smile.

"Well... why are you interested in me?" asked Alyssa. She seemed more interested in finishing her breakfast; she finished off the ham and bread roll relatively fast.

"I find you attractive...I want to have sex with you." Harry carefully said.

Alyssa looked shocked. People in Kahanistan had often told her she was attractive, and many people would approach her, whether or not they knew who she was. But Canadsteiners were supposedly more conservative, less willing to have sex on the first date.

"Well, I'm flattered," she said. "We don't just give it up that fast, I don't know what you've heard. Kahanistanian women are not whores. Now, if you want to talk to me, spend some time with me, and I'm in the mood..." She never said she wouldn't have sex, but it irritated her to no end that people still thought she was a slut because she'd gotten plastered ten years earlier and shoved an M-4 in places one doesn't usually put them.

Harry was silent for the next five minutes. Once in a while he would eat something or sip some coffee, but he seemed to be ashamed. That out burst was very...unnecessary and not the way a politician should act. Finally the silence was broken by a cough. "So what do you want to know about Director Hull?"

Alyssa coughed. "I'm sorry if I seemed... irritated. I just don't like that kind of presumption." She finished her breakfast, sat back and crossed her legs. "What happened to him?" she asked. "Was he executed, sent to prison, killed in the raids...? And why were you not supposed to talk to me about it?"

"Well..." Harry looked up to the ceiling. Of course he was having second thoughts. No outside the executive branch was suppose to know about the raids or what happened to Issac Hull. He just hoped that he could trust this woman. "Alyssa you are to tell no one else about what I am to tell to you. To answer your first question, Mr. Hull was captured in the raids. Mr. Hull was sent to secure maximum security prison. See we don't have a death penalty here. We just let them rot in jail. As for why I not suppose to tell you, this whole raid is secret. No one outside the Executive Branch is suppose to know about it. We don't want this story getting out."

"I would have thought the people would be glad to know their neutrality is safe again," said Alyssa. "Anyway, our government... believes the Agency has perfected medical techniques. Dangerous ones, that can be used to remove memories from people. We know the Doomani have similar ones. I would like to obtain the treatments, ways to reverse the memory loss." She figured she'd have an easier time getting it from Canadstein than from Doomingsland. They wouldn't yield any information even if tortured.

"Well...I am sorry to say, but most of the documentation was destroyed in the raids. I don't know how much and what exactly was saved, though I do know that each paper has to be read, then review, then cataloged. This process is going to take a long time. God knows when it will be completed. We have just started on the first phase: reading." Harry replied. "But I will let you know if anything of memory erasing comes up."

Alyssa smiled and wrote her phone number and contact information down. "Thanks. This number goes straight to my office without going through my secretary. The email supports heavy encryption so you can send me files and the like. If you don't mind, I could arrange for some personnel to assist in the data recovery."

"I don't think our government will want any outside help, mostly because the nature of the material. From what I have seen it is some pretty classified stuff." Harry took the piece of paper. He looked at the information, then smiled warmly at Alyssa. "Would you care to take a walk? Of course I would need to change since walking around in boxers isn't accepted in Canadstein. Plus I would freeze to death out there."

"Good idea," said Alyssa. Walking around nude in Kahanistan was legal, though it attracted a lot of stares. "I haven't really dressed for the cold. I brought a wool coat, but that's it."

She figured the info would be classified. She also thought that the government could easily destroy knowledge of mind erasure and claim it had never been found, and she'd have no way to prove otherwise. Now I'm just getting paranoid...

"After I am done changing, you can look in my closet for something to wear. That dress certainly isn't going to protect you from the elements. I really don't mind. I am more concerned about you catching a cold or freezing." Harry said with a charming smile. He disappeared into a nearby room, but soon returned wearing a gray pea coat, a collar shirt underneath the coat, a some normal gray pants, a pair of black shoes, and gray toque on his head. Harry was definitely prepared for winter. "So should I show you the closet or are you just going outside with that wool coat?"

Alyssa shook her head. "I have a T-shirt, jeans, some heavy boots. With my coat, that should protect me enough." She didn't like to wear men's clothes, and they probably weren't in her size, either - she was tall, slim, and a bit buffed for a woman.

"Alright suit yourself, but in Kahanistan they don't get these kinds of winters." Harry led her out the door, and to the street. "So what do you want to know about me?"

Alyssa stepped out and shivered. "When did you go into politics?"

Harry stopped for a second - after he noticed that Alyssa was shivering. She knew that he was right about changing, but he didn't want to say anything. Harry put his an arm around her shoulder and brought Alyssa closer to himself. He was going to try to warm her, with his own body heat, though he didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable. "I come from a long line of politicians. So I continued in the family business. My family has been prepping me to become a politician when I was a small child, but I finally joined in the fray when I was thirty."

"I was around that age when I ran for office," said Alyssa. "I'd just left the military. I was... 28 when I left, and ran for office shortly thereafter." She did not seem to react to his arm around her.

"Why did you want to be a politician?" asked Harry as they walked down the street.

"The country was going to shit. We were getting too interventionistic. We were spreading our resources too thin, and it could only lead to disaster. Now, I'm not isolationist. If someone is committing genocide, we should stop them. But we can't free all the slaves, so we should take who we can here and assimilate them."

"But why did you feel like you had to do something? I mean you could have done nothing and stayed in the army." asked Harry.

Alyssa smiled. "I could. I could have stayed out there, tromping through bush, and done nothing." Her facial expression changed. "And ten years from now, my little boy might be sent out to fight and die for people like the Clandonians who couldn't give two shits about us. He already wants to join the army. Here, I can work for change, get us to stop wasting our children's lives in wars that don't benefit humanity."

"So you did it for a your boy. Do you have a picture of him?" asked Harry.

"Yes, I do." She pulled out her wallet. (Few Kahanistanian women carried purses; they were too easily snatched, though crime was declining. A small makeup bag was standard fare for many women, though.)

Among her photographs was one of a small boy with medium brown hair. He looked about seven; the picture may have been a couple of years old. The boy was relatively thin and seemed to have lost most of his front teeth, but he was at the age when the baby teeth were in the process of being replaced.

"This is Gregor," said Alyssa. "He's nine now. Do you have children?"

"Sadly no. I hope to have some one day, but my job has taken over my life. My social life is non-existent." Harry responded. "Are you looking for a new husband?"

"Not really looking," said Alyssa. "I'm happily single. I date, occasionally. It's a little harder when you're a single mother. Sometimes I meet people at veteran gatherings."

"Ahh...." Harry replied. "So tell me about yourself?"

"Well, I did earlier... what more do you want to know?"

"Whatever you want to tell me..."

"OK." She'd already given him her basic info - age, height, general family situation, political position. "I still keep in shape using military special forces training. I practise Krav Maga regularly. I advocate for the interests of my people abroad."

"What do you want to know about myself?" asked Harry.

"I think we've shared enough information for now," said Alyssa. "Where are we going?"

"Okay..." Harry said glumly. "To be honest...I really don't know. I just have been walking. Paying attention to my surroundings is the last thing I have done."

"What do you like to do?"

"That is kind of broad. Well I like many things: women, my job, hunting, vacation, skiing, the list just goes on and on."

"Love skiing," said Alyssa. "Don't like to hunt much, though. Our new land has pretty eclectic terrain - beaches, mountains, woods, snowfields... whatever you like to do you can find a place." She smiled widely. "Some of us are promoting tourism as a way to expand our economy beyond labouring for the Praetonians."

"How are the slopes?" asked Harry.

"Not as good as the ones in Haven," said Alyssa. She seemed occupied.

Harry continued to silently walk down the street.

"So... what are we doing here for the next couple of days?" She'd have to get home soon - a major military appropriations bill was going to be debated which would fix the state of the military for the near term.

"Well the royals will probably show you more of Canadstein, most likely the north." commented Harry.

Alyssa looked a bit quizzical. She seemed to think her tour was pretty much over, but if the Prince wanted to see her again, she'd be willing to see him.

"Well, I have nothing else to do today, so what do you say to dinner here and me going back to the palace tomorrow morning?"

"That sounds fine, but we still have some time to kill." Harry said after looking at his watch. It was still only 3 in the afternoon.

"You know the city better than I do. Why not lead the way?"

"Well what are you interested in seeing?"

"Whatever. I'm more interested in passing time, for now. I've told you a fair amount about myself... why not tell me more? Do you have children?"

"No children, yet. I just haven't had time to find the right woman. Either I am buried in paperwork or in some other country, but I know that there is a woman out there. I just have to find her." Harry said leading Alyssa to a fountain. No longer was water rushing out of it, mostly because of the risk of freezing. Brushing off one of the benches, he saw down and thought. "Okay some other stuff about myself...I'm thirty-nine, come from a long line of politicians, went to Covington University, one of the best schools in Canadstein, and I love hiking."

Alyssa sat down next to Harry. "So, not much older than me," she said. "Where do you go to meet people? In Kahanistan, it isn't too difficult - people approach each other all the time. Some places, like New New Sodom or downtown New Masada, are hotbeds for hookups."

She turned to face him. "Being a politician, I can't go there - not because it would reflect negatively on me, but people would mob me, wanting my autograph. Going in with bodyguards is even worse - one of them beats up an autograph seeker or a young man looking for a date, all hell breaks loose. Like I said, I usually meet people at war veterans' gatherings."

"Well my family wants me to be with some respectable, intelligent, and well mannered. I don't think I will be finding any of those types of qualities in a club. So I mostly try to find a woman in political events, but sadly that has narrowed the playing field for me; since most of the women are married. What are you going to do? Life continues..." Harry said with a sullen look.

In Kahanistan, that wouldn't be a problem... "Do you go to church? You might find someone there." It seemed like the world had turned upside down. Alyssa was an atheist - she never went to church except a few times when she'd fallen in with some religious friends as a girl.

"Or you could look at the interns. I know... in a conservative society you probably think I'm crazy. But if she's well-mannered and intelligent and pretty... and you're not married, I don't see the hitch."

Harry nodded and sighed.

"So, what do you think?" Alyssa checked her watch, but it was still on Kahanistanian time; she hadn't switched it over to Canadsteiner.

"I really don't know...but something will happen." Harry replied.

"Well, I hope it's something good," said Alyssa. She smiled warmly. "So, what do you want to do? And what time is it here?" Her watch said 11:30 PM, but she hadn't switched to local time yet.

"I guess we could go skating." Harry timidly stated.

"Sounds nice," said Alyssa. "Haven't done it... since I was in the Academy, about fifteen years." She smiled and stood up.

"Well it sounds like the perfect time to refresh your memory." Harry said, leading her to the ice rink.

It was a matter of finding skates in her size - not that difficult. Alyssa stepped onto the ice, but having been out of practice for so long, she fell flat on her ass. She struggled to her feet again...

Harry glided over to her and extended his arm to her.

Alyssa smiled. "Thanks." She stomped her foot into the ice, hoping to get a better grip... but now was so deep in her skates wouldn't glide.

"I really need to... get back in the swing of things." She put an arm around Harry to steady herself, then pulled her foot slightly out.

A grin grew on Harry's face. He was up to something. Without any warning Harry started to skate. Since Alyssa was still hanging onto him, Harry was pulling Alyssa along. "Hold on..."

Alyssa was startled at first. She took one hand off of Harry. She was going to try to skate on her own feet...

Harry skated around her. "I am sure you will do fine."

Alyssa let go. The first thing she noticed after skating on her own was she'd forgotten how to steer. She screamed, unable to stop... and slammed headon into a wall. She turned her head at the last second so her nose would not be crushed, and struck the wall with her shoulder at full speed.

Harry sped over to Alyssa. This was going to be bad. Getting down on his knee he had to ask. "Alyssa...are you alright?"

Alyssa pulled her T-shirt down to get a look at her shoulder. It wasn't broken, but it was bruised horribly. Looking at her face, she was in a fair amount of pain.

"Should I go get some help?" asked a concerned Harry.

Alyssa shook her head. "I'll live. I've had worse in special forces."

Harry bent down closer and grabbed her chin. He moved her head, so he was looking directly into her eyes. A sense of concern seemed to come out of his body, though that was odd since he had just met Alyssa. "Are you positive?"

Alyssa smiled weakly. "I'll be all right. An ice pack might help a little."

"Well ice is plentiful around here." Harry said as he led Alyssa to the nearby Medical Station for some ice.

Alyssa walked along. While waiting for the ice, she changed back into her shoes with her healthy arm - it was difficult getting to the medical station in blades.

"I guess this was a horrible idea..." Harry stated.

"No. Just a horrible accident," said Alyssa. She put her healthy arm on Harry's shoulder. "What do you want to do the rest of the day?"

"Well...we have one more hour until dinner, so what would you like to do?" asked Harry.

"If it's like at home, I'd be waiting an hour for a table," said Alyssa. "We could head off."

"I guess we could be there early." replied Harry.

Alyssa nodded and held the ice pack on her shoulder. "I'm dressed a little casually. Should we go back first, or is it OK?"