Prologue
She felt at the small of her back, fingers making contact with the reassuring lump of metal holstered there. Her hand hovered on it for a second or two until she dismissed the urge to draw her weapon; there were too many people present to risk such a manouevre, besides doing so would break her momentum. She brought her arm back to her side, to join its opposite in a steady rythym, as she pounded the streets.
She concentrated on the figure ahead, an image ingrained into her memory through repetition. She shot a quick glance over her shoulder to ascertain how far behind Sydney was but she couldn't see him, the throng of tourists that she had brusquely parted seemed to close back together as soon as she was through. She cursed under her breath for not bringing a team of sweepers instead as she pushed rudely through another group of middle aged Europeans, who were content to saunter along at a snail's pace. At least the sweepers would have kept up with her.
She paced on doggedly, the figure in the distance never getting any further away but not getting any closer either - his good nature no doubt causing him to be less effective at shoving people aside. She could imagine him muttering apologies as he breezed past - in stark contrast to herself.
She hadn't expected to run into her prey; it was a long shot, one she thought they would be too late for. One of Broots' routine checks had brought up this hit and dragged them six thousand miles back to Scotland. She had been as shocked as Jarod when they'd locked eyes outside his hotel. His instinct had been to run - hers had been to chase, just as she'd assured him the last time they had spoken almost three months before.
So they'd ran. Through streets laden down with tourists and workers. Across roads swamped with taxis, cars, and sightseeing buses. Down alleyways littered with small, over priced, specialised shops. They'd ran through some kind of park, over the green hills where office workers and tourists alike had staked a spot to enjoy the unusually warm Spring day. The cultural heritage of the city passed her by, as did the history that could be absorbed with every sense if one were to just pause for a moment or two. She could have been in any city in the world because the only thing she really saw was the outline of her prey up ahead.
She wasn't sure how far they'd run, or even if they were going in circles. From the brief glances she'd taken of her surroundings she couldn't be quite sure that they weren't back in the same position they'd started from. Maybe Syd had had the right idea. She wasn't beginning to tire just yet, though Jarod would usually have made his escape by this point, vanishing into the ether like the chameleon he was. She was just starting to wonder if he was deliberately playing with her when they reached what appeared to be a major road. Traffic buzzed across the four lanes at a quicker pace and she could see that Jarod had already made his way across two of the lanes, taking advantage of the traffic signals, and coming to a pause on the central reservation which comprised of a raised concrete verge about a metre in width. The flow of the traffic over the first two lanes made it impossible for her to follow him, it was just too heavy. However the final two lanes were clear, the oncoming traffic stopped at a red light and she knew he had the advantage he needed to disappear.
Usually that's what would have happened, Jarod would have gained an extra few seconds on her. Enough time to disappear, to be swallowed up by the crowds and she'd have went home disappointed one more time. That's how it should have ended, that's how it usually ended. He ran, she chased. He went free, she remained trapped. But whichever deity had been looking out for Jarod the last five years must have been looking the other way.
She slowed down as she approached the roadside, eyes locked on the back of Jarod's head. She watched him step out onto the empty road in front of him - she knew that he was getting away and there wasn't a thing she could do about it. She briefly glanced at the traffic whizzing by in front of her, debating taking a risk but quickly discarding the idea. When she brought her eyes back up he was looking at her. He was almost to the other side of the road, that cocky grin taking up residence on his face. She sighed deeply, the anger that would normally have raged within her at coming so close failed to ignite. Before she had time to analyse that particular occurence real life intervened.
She saw the car first, from the corner of her eye. Jarod must have read something in her features, as he moved his head slightly, eyes tracking her gaze. Time seemed to run so slowly from that point and nothing else around her seemed to exist any more. She could only stand there and watch as the scene played out. He couldn't avoid the car, she knew that. Despite all his skills as a pretender, even he didn't have enough time or fast enough reactions to escape, but she found herself silently willing him to move anyway.
She couldn't close her eyes to the inevitable, something she failed to identify compelled her to watch and she found herself surprised by his actions. He turned his eyes back to her, locking once more on hers. That grin, the one she had wanted to wipe off his face for so long, had gone, instead he smiled at her; the same smile that would light his features when she snuck down to see him in the bowels of The Centre as a child. His eyes bore into hers with such intensity; even from the distance she could see there was no fear in those brown pools, and what lay there stuck in her throat. Such expressive eyes, he could always say so much with them and she'd had opportunity to witness a range of emotions - but never like this. All she could do was stare back, unable to breathe, her face frozen though she wanted desperately to return the gesture. It felt like minutes though she knew in reality it was no more than a fleeting moment. The car finally made contact, the sickening crunch ringing in her ears and feeling like a blow to her stomach. Time reverted to its usual speed.
She felt at the small of her back, fingers making contact with the reassuring lump of metal holstered there. Her hand hovered on it for a second or two until she dismissed the urge to draw her weapon; there were too many people present to risk such a manouevre, besides doing so would break her momentum. She brought her arm back to her side, to join its opposite in a steady rythym, as she pounded the streets.
She concentrated on the figure ahead, an image ingrained into her memory through repetition. She shot a quick glance over her shoulder to ascertain how far behind Sydney was but she couldn't see him, the throng of tourists that she had brusquely parted seemed to close back together as soon as she was through. She cursed under her breath for not bringing a team of sweepers instead as she pushed rudely through another group of middle aged Europeans, who were content to saunter along at a snail's pace. At least the sweepers would have kept up with her.
She paced on doggedly, the figure in the distance never getting any further away but not getting any closer either - his good nature no doubt causing him to be less effective at shoving people aside. She could imagine him muttering apologies as he breezed past - in stark contrast to herself.
She hadn't expected to run into her prey; it was a long shot, one she thought they would be too late for. One of Broots' routine checks had brought up this hit and dragged them six thousand miles back to Scotland. She had been as shocked as Jarod when they'd locked eyes outside his hotel. His instinct had been to run - hers had been to chase, just as she'd assured him the last time they had spoken almost three months before.
So they'd ran. Through streets laden down with tourists and workers. Across roads swamped with taxis, cars, and sightseeing buses. Down alleyways littered with small, over priced, specialised shops. They'd ran through some kind of park, over the green hills where office workers and tourists alike had staked a spot to enjoy the unusually warm Spring day. The cultural heritage of the city passed her by, as did the history that could be absorbed with every sense if one were to just pause for a moment or two. She could have been in any city in the world because the only thing she really saw was the outline of her prey up ahead.
She wasn't sure how far they'd run, or even if they were going in circles. From the brief glances she'd taken of her surroundings she couldn't be quite sure that they weren't back in the same position they'd started from. Maybe Syd had had the right idea. She wasn't beginning to tire just yet, though Jarod would usually have made his escape by this point, vanishing into the ether like the chameleon he was. She was just starting to wonder if he was deliberately playing with her when they reached what appeared to be a major road. Traffic buzzed across the four lanes at a quicker pace and she could see that Jarod had already made his way across two of the lanes, taking advantage of the traffic signals, and coming to a pause on the central reservation which comprised of a raised concrete verge about a metre in width. The flow of the traffic over the first two lanes made it impossible for her to follow him, it was just too heavy. However the final two lanes were clear, the oncoming traffic stopped at a red light and she knew he had the advantage he needed to disappear.
Usually that's what would have happened, Jarod would have gained an extra few seconds on her. Enough time to disappear, to be swallowed up by the crowds and she'd have went home disappointed one more time. That's how it should have ended, that's how it usually ended. He ran, she chased. He went free, she remained trapped. But whichever deity had been looking out for Jarod the last five years must have been looking the other way.
She slowed down as she approached the roadside, eyes locked on the back of Jarod's head. She watched him step out onto the empty road in front of him - she knew that he was getting away and there wasn't a thing she could do about it. She briefly glanced at the traffic whizzing by in front of her, debating taking a risk but quickly discarding the idea. When she brought her eyes back up he was looking at her. He was almost to the other side of the road, that cocky grin taking up residence on his face. She sighed deeply, the anger that would normally have raged within her at coming so close failed to ignite. Before she had time to analyse that particular occurence real life intervened.
She saw the car first, from the corner of her eye. Jarod must have read something in her features, as he moved his head slightly, eyes tracking her gaze. Time seemed to run so slowly from that point and nothing else around her seemed to exist any more. She could only stand there and watch as the scene played out. He couldn't avoid the car, she knew that. Despite all his skills as a pretender, even he didn't have enough time or fast enough reactions to escape, but she found herself silently willing him to move anyway.
She couldn't close her eyes to the inevitable, something she failed to identify compelled her to watch and she found herself surprised by his actions. He turned his eyes back to her, locking once more on hers. That grin, the one she had wanted to wipe off his face for so long, had gone, instead he smiled at her; the same smile that would light his features when she snuck down to see him in the bowels of The Centre as a child. His eyes bore into hers with such intensity; even from the distance she could see there was no fear in those brown pools, and what lay there stuck in her throat. Such expressive eyes, he could always say so much with them and she'd had opportunity to witness a range of emotions - but never like this. All she could do was stare back, unable to breathe, her face frozen though she wanted desperately to return the gesture. It felt like minutes though she knew in reality it was no more than a fleeting moment. The car finally made contact, the sickening crunch ringing in her ears and feeling like a blow to her stomach. Time reverted to its usual speed.