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CHAPTER 1

Chrissy walked into the study of her flat just outside the city square. The small flat suited her needs, but the peaceful countryside where her father had lived had much more of her much needed room. It didn't matter though, she'd never found his will and the estate had to be sold to pay off previous debts he had accumulated. The massive debts made her curious though, just what had her father been up to in the last years of his life? All she knew was that he went to America, California exactly, to work for some government agency. After that she didn't hear anything more until she heard that he'd been killed months after it happened.

She pulled open the desk drawer; it was filled with paperwork that was utterly meaningless to her. It had a few sketches of a helicopter but all the rest was in code. The papers had sat here in this drawer since she found them in her father's desk after he died. To her they were useless, but somehow, they looked important, not something to be taken lightly and definitely not thrown away.

A quick glance at her silver plated watch told her that she had better hurry if she wasn't going to be late for work. She slid into an overcoat, grabbed her shoulder bag, and scurried out the front door, locking it behind her.

Leaving the steps up from the tubes, she walked just down the street to a bookstore; she started her duties-arranging books and dusting the bookcases.

A familiar looking man entered the shop. He looked absolutely exhausted, tired lines causing him to look older than he actually was, but she knew who it was, even if she hadn't seen him in two years.

"Chrissy," he began in a hushed tone.

"Chris, please," she reminded. Her father had always favored his son, he seemed so special to him, until he decided he'd had enough of the government games and had disappeared without a trace. Since then she had used the more boyish form of her name, as first in an attempt to please her father, but later she found it fit her better.

"Chris," he amended. "When is your next break? I need to talk to you."

She looked down at her watch. "In thirty minutes. I'll meet you across the street at the tea room."

He agreed, turning to leave.

Reaching for her dust rag, she thought about the man that had mysteriously come, Daniel. Why? She wondered. Her business with the government had ended almost two years ago, and while they'd gotten along alright, she and Daniel had never been very close. So why did he show up now?

Thirty minutes later, she appeared, as promised, at the doorway of the tea room. Gingerly sitting down in a chair across from Daniel, she asked the question that had been plaguing her mind for the last half hour.

"So?" she queried. "I know, being an ex-government agent myself, you didn't come for just tea and talk so what is it?"

He stifled a laugh. Ex-government agent-it was true. She had been one, and a very good one at that, but it seemed strange that a beautiful young twenty something like her could be a fierce government agent. "Your father's papers, I think I finally got a lead on them."

Her father's papers? Wow, this guy was more persistent than she could have ever imagined. She would have told him it wasn't a big deal and that he didn't need to worry about them if she had known he was still looking, but with all the time and effort he had invested she might as well listen.

"It was the helicopter project your father worked on in America, known as Dark Angel."

"Dark Angel," it sounded vaguely familiar. She chewed on the word for a long minute. "Got anything else?"

"It was supposedly destroyed in Libya not long after its maiden voyage, after it blew up its entire control center, but there are reports claiming to have seen it since then."

The new information captured her imagination. In all truth, it was hard leaving the action of government spy work, but she had decided it would be easier before she had a lifetime of memories.

"Chris, I told you about all I can, but if you want to know much more….There is one way."

It had killed her father and driven her brother away, but it drew her in so easily. The whole bookshop thing wasn't going to work long-term and she knew it. She'd had several jobs since her father's death but nothing else had held her attention long.

At long last she answered. "I want to know. I'll do it."

Entering the conference room the next morning, Chrissy was dressed in a smart business suit. Nothing like making a nice impression before begging for your job back, she thought half-humouredly.

Not much begging was necessary though. James Stoner, the head of the committee, greeted her sincerely. "It's nice to have you back Chrissy."

\A/

Chance's crying had Caitlin rushing over to his side. After the scare he'd given them not long ago, she would admit that she was jumpy, hardly leaving his side.

Le came in with a bottle. "Cait, it's ok. He hasn't eaten in hours, he's just hungry.

Subsiding, she set him in her lap and took them bottle. Le was right. Chance guzzled the milk greedily.

"Slow down," she warmed, "or you'll get-"

He hiccupped a couple times.

"So much for the warning." She positioned him against her shoulder to burp him.

A sudden shiver traveled down Le's spine as he carried the finished bottle back to the kitchen. It was cold in here so why the shiver? It was nothing he told himself, but he couldn't help but wonder if that was really the case.