This chapter's song is "Sail" by Awolnation (a band that is not only a favorite of mine, but Kari Matchett's as well!). And as an extra treat for you guys, I have news: season 4 of Covert Affairs is expected to start on July 10th! I heard this through the graepvine & it isn't official yet, but it's likely that early July will be when CA starts up again :)

By early evening, Joan, Isabel, and Arthur were back in London. Arthur didn't want to raise any suspicions by getting a third room, so Isabel was sleeping on the couch in Joan's room.

"Are you sure you don't want the bed?," Joan asked, tossing a blanket from the closet to Isabel. "I am perfectly fine with the couch."

Isabel shook her head, smiling. "No, I'm fine. Trust me, I've slept on worse."

Joan sat cross-legged on top of her bed and looked at Isabel.

"So, what are you studying?," Joan asked timidly.

"I want to be a businesswoman. Start my own company, maybe," Isabel confessed. Joan saw a sparkle in her eye.

"I grew up poor, and it was always my dream to rise above and make something out myself. Sounds – what do you Americans say? Corny? – but it was my dream."

"What about your family? Any siblings, cousins?"

Isabel sighed. "No. It was just me and my mum, and she died when I was 16."

"Oh, Isabel, I'm so sorry," Joan said, putting her hand on her heart. Isabel nodded.

"Thanks. I loved mum a lot, but she wasn't the best person in the world. But it makes it easier, right? Defecting to America?"

Joan nodded. "I guess so."

"Do you think I could enroll in a university when we get back to the states?"

Joan nodded and smiled. "Of course."

They chatted for a while longer and ordered dinner from room service. After they ate, Joan tried to offer up the bed again.

"Joan, I'm fine!," Isabel insisted, slipping off her jeans and boots. She tossed them in a pile, with her leather jacket, and climbed under the blanket in her underwear and t-shirt.

"Here, let me at least get you another blanket," Joan said. She opened the closet and pulled out another blanket, handing it to Isabel.

"Thanks," she said. She looked at Joan mischievously. "You know, if you really want, I could take the bed and you could go down the hall and snuggle with Mr. Charming Blue Eyes."

Joan blushed furiously, her eye wide. "Arthur?"

Isabel laughed at Joan's facial expression for a good 3 minutes.

"Yes, Arthur. God, it is so obvious. You are completely crazy about him!"

Joan didn't know what to say. Flustered, she pulled back her covers and wrapped herself in the sheets.

"Um, I think it's time to go to bed," Joan mumbled, clicking off the light. "G'night, Isabel."

Isabel smiled to herself. "Night, Joan."

xxxx

The next morning, Joan and Arthur loaded their bags into a cab and Isabel kept her head down and hid under sunglasses and a hooded sweater. Just in case, they were taking the train to Canterbury and flying out from a small private airport. Arthur tucked the women into the backseat, and then sat in the passenger seat.

Joan and Arthur shared a smile and a nod before the car started off down the street. They did this for a living, but that didn't stop Joan from getting that tight, anxious feeling in her chest.

It was only a few minutes before Joan heard the shattering of glass and immediately ducked, pushing Isabel down too. Arthur reached back and pulled his gun out of his pocket, shooting at the car behind them. The men shot again, this time taking out their driver.

"Shit," Arthur muttered. He forced his way into the driver's seat, pushing the driver's body into the passenger seat and swerving to avoid getting hit by other cars. Isabel started to hyperventilate and whimper, so Joan pulled the girl into her arms and covered her mouth.

"Shh, it's okay," Joan said. Truthfully, being shot at still scared her. But she trusted Arthur, and she needed Isabel to feel safe.

More shots went off, and Joan knew she had to get Isabel out of the car.

"Arthur," she whispered. He nodded to acknowledge her, swerving the car in a sharp left.

"We need to run."

He nodded and whispered back, "You take Isabel, run as fast as you can. You remember our emergency rendezvous spot?"

Joan nodded, then squeezed Isabel's hand.

"Isabel, we're going to make a run for it," she whispered. "Just follow my lead, and no matter what you do, never stop running. Got it?"

Isabel nodded, and Joan shot Arthur one last look before kicking open the door behind the passenger seat. She pulled Isabel with her, and they tumbled out onto the street. They jumped up and started to run, weaving in and out through a downtown shopping area, both dirty and with rips in their jeans.

After about 25 minutes, they slowed down and started to walk until they found a small café. Joan helped Isabel wash up in the bathroom, and then bought coffees for both of them. They sat at a back table, talking quietly.

"Are you okay?," Joan asked Isabel, a look of concern on her face. Isabel nodded, still slightly breathless.

"Do you do that all the time?"

"More than I'd like to," Joan sighed, taking a big drink of her coffee. "Arthur will meet us at a closed post office a few blocks over in an hour if he lost our tail."

"Who was shooting at us?" Joan could see the frantic fear in Isabel's eyes.

"We don't know. Most likely, some of Moreau's men. But as soon as we get back to Langley, you'll be safe. You can give my boss whatever information you have, and then the rest goes to someone with higher clearance than me and Arthur. Our job is just to get you back safely."

Isabel nodded, still processing. "Okay. Do you think Arthur's alright?"

Joan shrugged. "He's a pro, he probably fine." But inside, she was deeply afraid that something bad might have happened. She shook it off and stood up.

"Come on, let's go."

They walked to the post office, heads down and pace brisk. They got there before him, so they sat on a bench across the street. Joan checked her watch every 2 minutes, feeling like it had been hours.

Finally, she saw a man walking towards them. When she saw Arthur's face, she breathed a sigh of relief. It was all going to be okay.

As always, she spoke too soon. Arthur had just reached them when a black car pulled up. Jack Moreau climbed out of it, gun pointed at Arthur. Joan jumped to stand in front of Isabel, watching Moreau carefully.

"I don't know who the hell you are, but you've taken what's mine," he growled, clicking off the safety. "Do you know what I do to thieves?"

Wham. Moreau's eyes rolled back into his head and he slumped over. Joan tossed the metal garbage can she had hit him with onto the ground and dusted off her hands. She picked up the gun and checked the car, with Arthur guarding Isabel.

"Clear," she said, tossing the gun to Arthur. He caught it, pulled the bullet clip out, and tossed it a good 50 feet away. Joan grinned.

"Now, can we get the hell out of here?," she asked, sighing. "I'm really over this whole people-trying-to-kill-us-thing."

Arthur chuckled and Isabel was still gaping in shock. He put one arm around Isabel's shoulders and the other around Joan's.

"Yeah, let's go home."