Prologue: Subject One

Disclaimer: I do not own X-men First Class nor Kingdom Hearts.

Summary: After the events of X-men: First Class CIA Agent Moira MacTaggert is assigned a new mission, where she is teamed up with Captain Carl Allenby of the United Kingdom's Special Air Service. Together the two uncover a conspiracy, but are instantly disavowed. Can they survive to inform their respective governments? Or will their warnings of a new threat be forever silenced?

Presidential Order 9-8. Designate: ZULU
Washington, D.C., United States
Moira MacTaggert Receiving Mission.
0800 13 April 1963

Moira MacTaggert stood and straightened her skirt as the receptionist, a formidable older woman in her late thirties with graying hair, gestured curtly to her. She was still blinking sleep out of her eyes, it was Saturday and she had gone to bed rather late on 12 April 1963 and she wasn't expecting to have been called in.

It had been the clamor of the telephone, and the same statuesque Gorgon of few words telling her that Director McCone wanted to speak to her personally and that it was urgent. So she dressed, got into her car, and drove from her small apartment in the Georgetown neighborhood of Washington, DC to Langley, VA.

She hadn't even had time to grab a cup of coffee from the local diner, which she would have done under other circumstances.

The statuesque Gorgon led Moira into the office of Director John A. McCone. The sixty-one year old man sat behind his desk, reading a dossier of some kind. She noticed with more than a little dismay that Agent William Stryker was also in the room.

"Agent MacTaggert, glad to see you could make it on such short notice." Director McCone began. He had a dossier and a file on his desk.

"What's this about, sir?" Moira asked.

"What I am about to tell you cannot leave this room." McCone replied, "Four days ago a patrol of the British Special Air Service operating in Borneo encountered a mysterious creature, believed to be a mutant. It was killed in the encounter by the SAS patrol and what the British are calling Subject One was flown back to the United Kingdom for further analysis."

McCone handed Moira the file, which consisted of the official British report, redacted in quite a few areas. The basics were there, that the British SAS patrol had been patrolling on an operation near the Indonesian border when they encountered 'it'. From the reports it had taken several rounds from every weapon in the patrol to neutralize it.

McCone gave Moira a few more minutes to read through the report to glean what information she could before he continued, "Which brings us to your mission, MacTaggert. Officially you're acting as our consultant to MI6, given the fact that we have some knowledge of mutants."

"Barely any." William Stryker commented just barely audible. McCone fixed him with an annoyed glare, more at the fact that he'd interrupted his train of thought more than his snide remark at MacTaggert's offense.

"And unofficially?" Moira asked, inwardly she bristled, but given that Stryker outranked her she bit down the impulse to snap a remark back in his direction.

"Unofficially you're mission is to find out who precisely what the Brits know about mutants and if there is any sort of leak in our security." McCone replied, "Any questions?"

"First, why me?" Moira asked.

"Due to your recent experiences, memory loss notwithstanding, with the mutants you're one of the few that we know that can be of any help." McCone replied.

"I still can't believe you're sending a woman to do a man's job." Agent Stryker remarked.

"William, MacTaggert is best for the job. She prevented a war six months ago for Christ's sake." McCone remarked.

Moira felt more than a little heat and tension in the room. She couldn't remember anything of those events that happened six months ago, but evidently she had helped prevent World War III. Whatever happened it had caused Stryker to have it out for her and McCone to have faith enough to trust her with an important assignment and...

McCone handed Moira a dossier, "You'll be working with Captain Carl Allenby, of the United Kingdom's SAS. He was the patrol commander of the unit that encountered the mutant in Borneo."

Moira took the dossier and read through the contents. Inside was an official service photo of a British Army officer in his late twenties or early thirties with black hair and piercing grey eyes.

"Not much. Other than he's a distant relative of World War I Field Marshal Edmund Allenby. He served as a subaltern and a junior lieutenant with the Parachute Regiment in 1953 with a tour in Malaya before applying for and being selected by the United Kingdom's Special Air Service in 1954. In 1955 he returned to Malaya and served there until 1957." McCone said, "The dossier we've compiled has what we know about your contact."

"So when do I leave?" Moira asked.

"You leave for London out of Baltimore-Washington International Airport this afternoon at 1500. Your tickets are in the briefcase beside your chair." McCone said, "I highly suggest you pack and get to the airport before your flight."

Moira stood up, taking the dossier and the file before putting them into the briefcase beside the chair before she gathered the briefcase. She walked past Stryker before heading out of the office.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Stryker stand up to follow her. A few steps down the hall and he was away from too many prying eyes.

"You think you're up for this MacTaggert?" Stryker asked, seeming to be sneering.

"I think so. And Director McCone thinks so." Moira replied.

"This is one of the few times I question the boss. For all I know you've already been burned. Given that you can only recall a few details following the attack on HQ last year, and a kiss. Who knows if you're a sleeper for one of them." Stryker replied.

"I was examined and cleared by our psychiatrists and subjected to a polygraph test on multiple occasions, at least two of which were directly due to you. And I'm fairly sure the surveillance team I had following my every move for three months was your doing as well." Moira remarked.

"You're still compromised, MacTaggert, and if I had my way, you wouldn't even be going back to the typing pool. You'd be on your way out that door or to the nearest jail cell." Stryker said.

"Well, it's a good thing you're not in charge, Agent Stryker. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a flight to catch." Moira replied, doing her best to maintain her cool. She wasn't about to give Stryker the satisfaction of having gotten to her.

She headed out to the parking lot, got into her car and drove off to make her preparations to travel.

MI-6 Official Transmission. Authenticate: Alpha
London, United Kingdom
Captain Carl Allenby, 22 Special Air Service
1300 13 April 1963

Carl Allenby stood beside a tall and slightly stoop shouldered older fellow in his late fifties with silver hair as the two of them looked out at the rain falling outside over the gray overcast London skies.

"Heard the Yanks are sending one of their agents over here across the pond. One of their lot had experience dealing with mutants." Matthew Stenner, a case officer with MI6, said.

"Really. When is he expected to turn up?" Allenby asked.

"She, actually." Stenner replied, "The CIA is sending a woman over."

"What do we know about her?" Allenby replied.

"Inquiring if she's single are we?" Stenner replied with a slightly sarcastic tone.

"Bugger off mate, I'd like to know who I'm working with." Allenby replied with a mildly amused tone.

"Right, you are a tad Army barmy these days." Stenner replied.

"I've got my share of tours if that's what you mean." Allenby replied, "I repeat, what do we know about this woman."

"Well, her name's Moira MacTaggert. She graduated with honors with a Masters in Political Science from Georgetown University in 1959 before joining the American Central Intelligence Agency. She's best known for her encounters with mutants, specifically the bloke Sebastian Shaw." Stenner replied, walking with long strides to a table in the conference room to grab a dossier, "The details we know, which aren't many, are in here."

Allenby took the file and leafed through it. Noticing of course there were quite a few parts redacted.

One thing that caught his eye, the transcript of her interview regarding an attack by mutants on the CIA Headquarters, and a very vague transcript of what followed. This was combined with some account of her playing a role of indeterminate significance preventing World War III somewhere in Cuba in the previous year's Cuban Missile Crisis.

There didn't appear to be any evidence of her having hit her head or any serious injury to account for the memory loss according to the parts of the CIA transcript that weren't redacted. Either way that would be something of interest to be brought up later.

"She's slated to arrive late tonight, and we've put her up in a hotel in the Vauxhall area and you'll be meeting her tomorrow morning." Stenner replied, "You're to work with her about Subject One. Given that your patrol ran across it in Borneo almost three weeks ago you're the most logical choice."

"Right, Stenner, I had that figured when you had me put on that helicopter with Subject One and flown all the way back to the UK from Borneo." Allenby replied.

"I'm certain your Troop Warrant Officer has the lot covered." Stenner replied, "At any rate, you've got a briefing with 'M' this afternoon."

Stenner was referring to Vice Admiral Sir Jason M. Dench, KCMG, and the head of MI6. He glanced at his wrist watch and said, "Right, head down the hall with me. M's pet peeve is tardiness and it's always best to be fifteen minutes early."

Allenby followed Stenner towards the inner sanctum of Vauxhall Cross, the MI6 headquarters. After Miss Kensington, M's secretary, called them in the two men were escorted into the office.

It was elegantly furnished with a portrait of Sir Jason M. Dench in his Royal Navy dress blues, volumes of books arranged neatly on hardwood shelves with a large wooden desk with a stone bust of Dante near the left corner of the building. Allenby couldn't help but notice the plaque underneath the bust reading Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter.

Vice Admiral Sir Jason M. Dench was a tall man, well over six feet, broad shouldered and built like a rugby forward. He stood looking out the window, a pipe hanging from his mouth, and the smell of scented tobacco wafting through the room.

"Right." Dench replied, before turning around and offering a hand. Allenby took it and shook hands.

"Captain Allenby, your reputation precedes you. Service with 3 Para, before joining 22 SAS in time for the tail end of Malaya and current service in Borneo." Dench continued before as sking, "How is your father, I've not heard from Colonel Allenby in ages."

"He's doing well sir, he's nearing the end of his command of 2 Para." Allenby replied.

"And in all likelihood a return to the Parachute Regiment is in your future following the end of your 22 SAS tour." Dench replied.

"That's what I'm expecting, sir." Allenby replied.

"Well, there is a need for the experience you gained following your encounter with Subject One." Dench said, "Your report indicated it took fire from every weapon in your patrol to kill it, yes?"

"Yes sir. It took every round from my lead scout's shotgun, and almost fifteen rounds from the SLRs (Self Loading Rifles) fired in rapid succession before we were able to kill it. Something that can take three shotgun blasts at damn near point blank range and keep trying to kill us is a grave threat." Allenby replied.

"And if more of them are lurking about, and God forbid someone's amassed an army of those things, there could be trouble." Dench replied, "That's why you've been summoned back to London. The Prime Minister wants this matter resolved as soon as possible. To that end you are to be seconded from 22 SAS to MI6 for the duration of the assignment, however long it shall be, and you're to work closely with the Agent Moira MacTaggert until it is resolved."

"Understood sir." Allenby replied.

"You've got a meeting in the conference room together with Agent MacTaggert at 0900 tomorrow morning. From there the two of you are to investigate the matter of Subject One." Dench replied, "Are there any questions?"

"No sir." Allenby replied.

"Very well then. I shall see you in the morning." Dench replied.

Stenner stood up to show Allenby out. It was after Allenby and Stenner had left that Dench wrote a short little note for his secretary to send a to one of their agents, codenamed Knobby, embedded in the United States. It wasn't that he didn't trust the Americans. Far from it, as during the Second World War they had saved his life, but he was a firm believer in the saying trust but verify.

Transmission # 4-5-4-1. Designate: OSCAR
London, United Kingdom
Moira MacTaggert Arriving in London
2330 13 April 1963

Landing at London-Heathrow airport near midnight meant that the terminal was nearly deserted. Nearly except for an older man in a rumpled gray tweed suit. "Moira MacTaggert?" the man asked, with a clipped Windsor accent.

"Yes." Moira replied, guardedly, even though she'd been briefed to expect being met by MI6 when she landed. She was briefed on authentication.

The older man said, "So how is you great uncle these days?"

The authentication question. Sounds like MI6 assigned me a minder.Moira thought before replying with her answer, "He's doing well."

To the casual observer it would sound like a simple meeting of two acquaintances, not two spies verifying the other's identity.

Moira carried her suitcase with her as they walked out of the terminal to the parking garage. A nondescript black sedan was parked in the front. Moira put her suitcase into the trunk before sitting in the front seat and putting her handbag onto her lap.

Stenner stepped into the vehicle and started it up before heading down the street. "Ms. MacTaggert, my name is Matthew Stenner, I'll be working with you and Captain Allenby on this assignment." Stenner said, "We've put you up in a hotel in the Vauxhall Cross area for the time being. I'll come and collect you at 0830."

"Thank you." Moira replied, with a yawn. She did managed to catch a nap on the flight, but only for about a couple hours' duration.

After a short drive Stenner parked the car in front of the hotel and Moira took her handbag and suitcase before walking inside to check in. After checking in she headed up the stairs to catch some sleep.

Twisted metal. The smell of charred flesh and cloth. Smoke hanging in the air. Carnage. Sebastian Shaw's attack on CIA Headquarters was less than an hour old. Moira couldn't remember who she was with, but all she could remember was that the two people that were with her during the aftermath were men. But she couldn't place faces and certainly couldn't place names.

There was a young woman who seemed visibly distraught and was being comforted by one of the men. Again the woman's name escaped her memory. But how? She didn't recall a head injury and the file of her debriefing didn't indicate it either.

Moira remembered that young people were staying in a guest room of sorts at HQ, near a courtyard where a window was shattered and a statue blown apart. All she could remember about that particular bit of damage was that it occurred somehow before the attack, not as a result of it.

Bodies lay about the ground. Security personnel. Quite a few of them she knew. One of them used to walk her to her car whenever she worked late during his first few weeks. A nice older fellow of thirty-five years named Carruthers. Married with two young boys. Now he was dead, trying to defend those same young people.

More memories.

"What are you doing?" her partner asked, alarmed.

"Using some equipment the CIA didn't give me." she replied.

Now about as scantily clad as the other show girls at this fancy affair she walked with relative freedom amongst the crowd. Relative freedom referred to the good bit of propositioning she endured ever other step from men eying her scantily clad form.

And after gaining access to a secret room and finding documents in Russian on a desk. Then finding something else afterward, seeing things that up until that point she knew to be impossible. The blonde woman who grew a sparkling diamond-like covering. The red skinned fellow who seemed to vanish at literally the blink of an eye.

Where did he go? And for that matter had she been spotted?

She heard that same popping noise, felt the hand on her shoulder, saw the red skinned man teleport behind her, a fist cocked back to strike her. And then the sound of buzzing as the fist clocked her in the face...

MI6 Transmission. Authenticate: Charlie
London, United Kingdom
Moira MacTaggert and Carl Allenby at Vauxhall Cross
0900 14 April 1963

It had been the buzzing of the bedside telephone in Moira's hotel room that had jerked her awake. It had been a bizarre dream in all likelihood brought about by her new assignment, to do with mutants. But the amateur psychological analysis was going to have to wait as she'd hurriedly dressed, ran downstairs, and met with Stenner who got her to MI6 headquarters without further incident.

Moira got into the conference room, which was occupied by one other occupant calmly sipping a cup of tea. Though lean bodied and not identifiably military thanks to his civilian clothing, she knew him to be Captain Carl Allenby, 22 SAS.

Carl Allenby heard the door open and saw Matthew Stenner open the door and the auburn haired young woman who he assumed must be Moira MacTaggert walked in as Stenner let her in. He stood up as Stenner began to introduce them.

"Moira MacTaggert, this is Carl Allenby, 22 SAS."

Carl shook Moira's hand and said, "Charmed."

He escorted her over to the conference room table and said, "Would you like some tea?

"Thank you." Moira said. Carl poured her a cup and handed it to her, "There's some milk and sugar over there. Help yourself."

"Sadly there isn't any food at the moment, but I'll be sure that we both get something to eat before our next stop." Carl replied.

"And where is that?" Moira asked.

"The laboratory. They're still doing tests on Subject One." Carl replied.

"Subject One?" Moira asked.

"Oh, sorry. That's the designation we'd given to the mutant encountered by Carl's patrol in Borneo." Stenner chimed in.

It was shortly afterward that Dench entered the room, "Miss MacTaggert, first off, welcome to London. I do wish that it was under somewhat better circumstances."

"What can you tell me about the mutant?" Moira asked.

"Captain Allenby can give you the full details, but his patrol encountered it when they were just beyond the border into Indonesian territory. Suffice to say it attacked the patrol and it took a good bit of firepower to subdue it." Dench began, "Captain Allenby, would you care to elaborate."

"Yes sir." Carl replied, "We had just left a village three kilometers from the Indonesian border. After I'd spoken with the headman of the village he mentioned stories of some odd creature that had been terrorizing their village. We headed out on patrol, and crossed the Indonesian frontier. It was whilst we were stopped for a quick look at the map that the jungle went silent."

At Moira's quizzical look Carl added, "Well, jungles are quire noisome places to live and work but they go quiet at the presence of man or in this case what we encountered. Shortly after it went quiet we heard rustling in the brush when my lead scout made contact. It jumped at us, from a stand of brush and my lead scout loosed off three rounds to the center of the torso with his shotgun and it didn't slow him down one sodding bit. We opened up with our SLRs and the scout got in a couple more shots with the shotgun before we were finally able to kill it. We called in about it and the next thing I know is several helicopters converged on our location and then Stenner is having me flown back to the UK with the unidentified mutant."

"The Prime Minister took the report when we flew it back to United Kingdom and then got into touch with your government regarding the matter." Stenner continued.

"Can I see this Subject One at some point?" Moira asked.

"That's actually the next stop. We're still doing testing on the body." Dench replied, "Shall we?"

Everyone headed out to the lab in the basement of the Vauxhall Cross building. "That's Doctor Weaver," Dench said, indicating the fellow in his late thirties doing examinations on the corpse.

Subject One was human, or at least was at some point. Most of the left side of his face was black, inky black as midnight with a glowing yellow eye. Two black antennae protruded from his head and a majority of the hair on the left side of his head was lost. A thick tuft of hair on the right side of his head remained in place, and owing to the lack of any gray hairs it was fairly easy to see that it was a man in his early to mid-twenties. The other side of the man's face was normal, that of a male of Asiatic descent. A hole in the center of the forehead showed where a 7.62 round from an SLR had penetrated.

A large hole was just below the sternum, clearly where buckshot from the lead scout's shotgun had torn wounds into the body. One arm was normal, a typical human arm, and this one was also broken by a fourth shot of buckshot. The other arm was a twisted black claw. Most of the torso, the neck and hips and legs were riddled with bullet holes from the British patrol.

"Doctor Weaver." Dench began, "This is Agent Moira MacTaggert, she's with the American Central Intelligence Agency and she's here to help us with investigating the matter of Subject One. What have you been able to determine."

"Well, from what I could discover was that the creature appeared to lack a heart." Weaver began.

"You mean the gunfire destroyed the heart?" Moira asked, examining the torso for any evidence of a shot having done so. But there weren't any wounds near the heart and the nearest shotgun blasts had hit well below the heart.

"No, I mean there was no heart there period." Weaver replied, "All that was there was a bone hard and hollow void where a person's heart would be. I'm not quite sure how blood was pumped through the body, I would guess by pressure differentials but that's an educated guess at best. And the congealed black fluid, roughly the consistency of motor oil according to the team's report is in all likelihood it's blood. From my initial DNA analysis I see markers for genetic engineering."

"So someone's been making these things? Or artificially mutating them?" Moira asked.

"Sukarno and the Indonesian government don't have the means to carry anything of this sort out, that we're aware of. Is you're agency tracking anything different?" Dench asked.

"We're just as mystified as you are, sir." Moira replied. To her, genetic engineering obviously entailed resources and where there was one of these things there were in more likelihood others.

"Sir, additionally the security element discovered an old parachute, not of British manufacture, not too far from where we were attacked." Carl added, "Basically it appeared to be of Chinese manufacture."

"And there were some scraps of paper, which included the address of a hotel in Hong Kong." Dench replied.
"His clothing, or what of it remained, appeared to have been made there as well." Weaver replied.

"That means Hong Kong is our best place to chase down a lead." Moira replied, "Do we have any narrowing of where in Hong Kong our Subject One came from?"

"Other than the business card for the Peninsula Hong Kong Hotel, that's about the only information we have as far as possible location. No identifying paperwork or identification documents." Stenner replied.

"You're referring to one of the oldest hotels in Hong Kong." Carl replied, "It's been around damned near forty years and it's a historic landmark."

"Not a bad place to start an investigation on Subject One." Dench replied, "But given it's proximity to Mainland China I expect there will be a contingent of Ministry of State Security lads roaming about. They'll likely be looking for infiltration from the West. Agent MacTaggert, having you around would be quite convenient."

"How so?" Moira asked.

"Well for starters the MSS lads likely surveying the area would be expecting single agents. And having a pair or group of male agents travelling about could raise some suspicion. Having a woman on the team means you and Captain Allenby can easily pose as a married couple. Newlyweds on your honeymoon, upper class English couple and all."

"Well there is the tiny fact that I'm American..." Moira began.

"Well, he met you while at University in the States, captivated by your beauty and asked you to marry him." Dench replied.

Moira mulled the idea for a moment before asking, "And what university would that be?"

"How about Harvard? Ivy League school and the lot." Dench replied.

"Well...ok." Moira replied, it really did seem like Dench had thought of a fairly good idea for their legend.

"Very well then." Dench replied, "I now pronounce you man and wife and I'll ensure that your travel arrangements are in order. Let's say first thing tomorrow."

It's a good thing I didn't have time to unpack last night. Moira thought as both she and Carl headed upstairs to one of the administration offices where Stenner went to give them some more details on the hotel and known MSS personnel in the area.

"Boquin Bao," Stenner began, "He's a middle ranking case officer of the Ministry of State Security, or the Guoanbu. His specialty is ferreting out any Western intelligence operatives working in Hong Kong and he generally runs operations out of the Peninsula Hong Kong and the Chinese Embassy."

Stenner placed a dossier on the table. The man's photo that was attached to the manila envelope was in his early thirties, with a slight balding on the right side of his forehead, "He is believed to be responsible for the untimely death of the head of our Hong Kong branch, but we can't quite prove it."

"What do we know about him?" Moira asked.

"Well he does have a weakness for gambling, the higher the stakes the better. He's also quite ruthless and the sort that never minds getting his hands dirty." Stenner replied before he placed a second dossier down. This one had the photo of a young Chinese woman in her mid to late twenties. Black hair, almond brown eyes, and what looked like the winning smile of a high order seductress.

"Lifen Wu." Stenner added, "She's Bao's right hand woman. Said to be connected with a number of deaths of MI6 officers in Hong Kong over the past two years. Very skillful and willing to achieve missions at any cost. Don't let the lovely face fool you, she's an assassin of high skill."

"Both of these individuals seem to be permanently based out of the Peninsula Hong Kong, gathering intelligence on foreign dignitaries and the like." Stenner said, "They'll in all likelihood be an impediment to your mission if they get wind of it. So an airtight legend will be needed. Give me twenty-four hours and I can get your legend appropriate references."

"Alright. In the meantime we'll come up with our own details for our legend." Carl said.

Transmission # 4-6-5-1. Designate: DELTA
Somewhere of the Pacific Ocean
Moira MacTaggert and Carl Allenby
0800 15 April 1963

"I'm geting my impressions of you together, Carl, and I can say there's a good bit I get and don't get." Moira replied, "First I get the fact that you're following in your father's footsteps, even joining your father's unit, the Parachute Regiment. Then sort of going your own way by joining the Special Air Service. Before that you went to Cambridge University, and from what I can tell a good number of your classmates made you never forget your decidedly middle class origins. It's manifested in your refusal to think inside the box."

"Well, first off, I never was comfortable sticking to pre-conceived notions. And I could say the same of you." Carl replied, "I can see you obviously don't quite fit in amongst your CIA colleagues, having pulled yourself out of the typing pool, but still seen as a woman in a man's world."

"Touche." Moira said, as the car she and Carl rode in approached the London-Heathrow Airport.

"So let's go over our legend one more time, shall we?" Carl said, before asking, "So how did you meet?"

"It was my second year at Harvard and I was buying text books. Western Civilization, I think. And the bookstore only had one left. Thom was also shopping for the same book, but he was a gentleman and let me have it. He also used it as an excuse to see me again and again, under the pretext of borrowing my book for the class before he finally asked me out." Moira replied, "We've gone over it enough I think."

"Right. Just want to make sure that we can maintain our cover if needed." Carl said as they stepped off the car and after getting through security they waited for their flight at the departure gate.

"So is there a Mr. MacTaggert back in the States?" Carl asked.

"No. And why do you ask?" Moira countered as she looked up from her book.

"Practical reasons." Carl replied, "If there is a Mr. MacTaggert I'd like to know just in case I have to fend off a large and angry bloke who I can't tell why I'm hanging about with his wife for reasons of national security."

"So you're asking me for purposes of self preservation? Nice." Moira commented, "And for the record, no there is no Mr. MacTaggert. Unless you count my cat back home, he's not the nicest to male company."

"Remind me never to visit you at home then." Carl replied.

"So what about you, is there a Mrs. Allenby?" Moira asked.

"No. And besides with my life being how it is, I don't think it's quite conducive to a solid relationship with a woman. Quite a few chaps I know are divorced or separated." Carl replied.

"So you're basically a monk." Moira remarked.

"I'm not quite so sure what I do qualifies me for a monastic order." Carl replied, "And you're quite the solitary sort yourself, given what you've told me so far."

The announcement for their flight came over the PA system and they stepped onboard their aircraft. Carl had a window seat and Moira had the aisle seat. Carl divided his time between looking out the window and glancing over at Moira, who seemed quite involved in her book, Charlotte Bronte's Wuthering Heights.

"I'd not had you pegged for a Bronte reader to be honest." Carl remarked.

"Really?" Moira replied as she set her book onto her lap, tucking the book mark into the page she was reading, "So, what would you have pegged me as reading?"

"I would have guessed something along the lines of Jane Austen." Carl replied.

"I just finished Pride and Prejudiceon the flight to London. I really didn't feel like re-reading it." Moira replied.

"Heathcliff was a wanker." Carl remarked.

"What makes you say that?" Moira replied.

"Well, he's a study in being a wanker." Carl replied, "First off he uses poor Isabella, an innocent young woman, as a vehicle to get back at Edgar because of his having been married to Catherine. Second off, more relating to the first he more or less abuses Isabella and spends the remainder of his life spreading misery to his contemporaries and his heirs. Both traits qualify him as a wanker."

"I think the term is Byronic Hero. And you have to admit that a good bit of why Heathcliff is the way he is was caused by the rigid Victorian English society." Moira replied, "Given that because he's descended from gypsies Victorian English society didn't exactly welcome him with open arms. And he was very devoted to Catherine."

"More like bloody mad and obsessive. I do believe that sort of behavior is characteristic of a pathological personality. Especially near the end with all of his vengeance seeking and trying to destroy the next generation occupying both Wuthering Heights and Thrushcross Grange." Carl replied.

"He's the epitome of a tormented soul, the typical Byronic hero." Moira replied before letting out a slight yelp of pain as a baggage cart banged into her elbow.

"Hey, you should take my seat." Carl said.

"No, it's OK." Moira replied, "Anyway, Heathcliff is a more complex character than a simple 'wanker' as you so eloquently put it."

"Well, yes. He's an outright bastard." Carl replied, "Marrying the younger sister of a rival because said rival is married to the true object of his love is a rather uncouth act."

"Rigid social standards pretty much doomed Catherine and Heathcliff as a couple." Moira replied.

"Point taken. He should've just gone off elsewhere if he was seeking revenge. After all the Talmud says 'Live well. It is the best revenge.'." Carl countered.

"But revenge wasn't his only motivation. He still genuinely loved Catherine." Moira replied.

"But what in God's name was he expecting? Her to drop Edgar and elope with him?" Carl replied.

"Love makes fools of us all." Moira replied, before she got hit in the elbow by another beverage cart, "Ouch."

"For God's sake take my seat. I'll take the aisle seat." Carl replied.

"It's not that bad." Moira replied.

"Will you let me be a gentleman for God's sake?" Carl replied.

"Really, it's OK. You don't need to dote and...ouch!" Moira replied.

"If I hear you go on like that again I'm likely to think you're hurt." Carl replied.

"It's not that, it's touching but it's a little unnecessary..." Moira remarked.

"Humor me?" Carl asked.

Moira felt another beverage cart bang into her arm, "Ouch! OK."

She unbuckled her seatbelt and Carl did the same before standing up and moving towards the aisle seat, slipping by Moira as she moved over to the window seat he had taken.

"There, much better are we?" Carl said.

Moira rubbed her elbow and smiled as an old woman behind them asked, "Excuse me, are you two married?"

"Yes." Moira replied.

"No." Carl added at the same time. Moira elbowed him in the ribs and gave him a slightly withering glare.

The old woman looked at them quizzically as Carl turned around and said, "Not yet at any rate. We're actually flying to visit her family, who lives in Hong Kong. We just thought it would be best that we get married there and go right for the honeymoon at the same time."

Carl's hasty explanation as to the fact that he countermanded Moira's reply seemed to placate the old woman.

Good save, but you could've avoided the whole situation by remembering the legend. Moira thought.

The drone of the aircraft's engines provided a good and steady background noise as Moira continued to read her book. Presently she stifled a yawn and tucked a bookmark into her book before falling asleep on the long flight to Hong Kong.

Up Next: The adventure begins in Hong Kong as MacTaggert and Allenby search their first lead.