Wow, I have no idea how long it's been since my last update, but I've been ridiculously busy. Sorry this is such a shorty, but it's better than nothing at all, right?

He couldn't even decide what to feel. Anger? After a year of missions, they had abandoned him and left him for dead with most of the world's deadliest organizations after him. Fear? Everyone he knew or cared about would be in danger, even people he'd been barely acquainted with. Uncertainty? Was this what he wanted? He was finally rid of MI6, but his life was destroyed. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed them to survive. They were a powerful organization and that alone had provided him with protection. MI6 was a formidable foe, it kept the likes of small gangs from extracting their vengenance.

Finally he took a moment just to sit and rest and take everything in. For the first time, he realized exactly what it meant to be alone. Sure, MI6 had forsaken him back when he had decided to take on Damien Cray, but there was always Jack. She never approved of his actions, but she supported him and he could always count on her. And now, going to her meant putting her in danger if leaving her alone wasn't danger enough. It was the same with Tom and Sabina, civilians that wouldn't be able to defend themselves when the wrong people came knocking on their doorstep. But what could he do for them when he could barely protect himself?

Rushed and random thoughts raced through his head as he darted through back alleys and threaded through parks, feeling an utter fool. He wasn't a criminal, he shouldn't have to run from the cameras, yet he hadn't even a destination. He had so many questions, some rhetorical, some genuine. When you're a spy, knowledge is your greatest weapon. There's a reason you work "in intelligence" because when it all comes down to it, that's the sum of your occupation. Running from enemy fire and hand to hand combat is just something that comes with the territory.

But when you have no intel to work with period, you're left feeling a little frustrated. Alex may have been one of MI6's most affective agents, but he's never been left alone on the side of the street with no mission dossier, nothing to start with, no one to go after, not even a lead to follow. All he knows is that he has to run, but where? And how far? Who can he trust? Who can he even find? It was certainly nice to have friends like Tom and Jack who could understand the predicament he was in, but when it all came down to it, they would be more of a hindrance than a help.

Still, first things first, he had to make sure his friends were safe.

A call from a payphone on a secluded street corner of the park to his home. The camera there had been long out of order and the stiffs in office never did take it upon themselves to get it answered on the third ring, that was fifteen seconds he thought his heart would explode from the pounding.

"Hello?" Jack said.

"Jack, it's Alex," he said, before pausing just briefly to wait for the code. If she asked him about tomatoes in the salad, she was in danger. Just a second more… he breathed an almost palpable sigh of relief when she said nothing.

"Jack, I need you to go back to America right now. Just pack clothes and money. Leave your phone. Try blend in wherever you are. Don't call for a taxi, take the car, then the Underground. You'll be safest once you get to the airport. Please try to stay in sight of the cameras," Alex rattled off the instructions as they came to him. He wondered if he was rambling. for him, this was all instinctual and he could only hope it made sense to her. He trusts she's seen her share of spy movies to understand.

"Alex, you're ardly making sense."

"JUST DO IT. Please."

"Okay, fine," Jack stammered, struggling to find more words, a response that could somehow match the urgency in his tone. "But what the hell is going on? Where are you?"

"I'm at the northeast corner of Hyde Park, I probably won't be here much longer, I don't know where I'm going next," he confessed. He might as well tell her. He didn't want to imagine it, but if she were captured on her way, at least she'd know enough to keep herself alive. "I've been burned, it's complicated. I… I can't even understand, but right now, everyone I know is in danger… I'll call you once you've landed," he said before hanging up, not waiting for her to ask how he'd know how to reach her.

Jack prudently obeyed his cryptic instructions and ran straight to the back of the hall closet. Pushing aside the pile of cleaning supplies, she saw the three duffel bags. One for her, one for Alex and one that had been for Ian. Ian had insisted that they would need these in case of emergency, such as an earthquake, he explained as if it made all the sense in the world, yet the items he had instructed her to pack would do them almost no good during the aftermath of a disaster.

She walked out of the house with the duffel over one shoulder, still remembering to lock the door. Jack liked to believe she would be coming back. It just wouldn't do to leave the door hanging open, just inviting some chavs to take what they wanted.

Throwing the bag carelessly into the passenger seat as she stepped in the car beside it, she started the car and started down the street, not noticing the dark blue convertible following a few cars behind her.