Esmeralda came awake slowly, purely out of habit, her breathing pattern never changing, her body remaining as still as ever. There was an ache in her head that confused her for a bit, and a stiffness in her neck that annoyed her.

But all that was before she registered the feel of coarse rope around her wrists and ankles, before she felt the cold chill in the air that she'd only ever felt in one place within the Academy. That was before she opened her eyes, just a bit, and saw the model boat hanging from the ceiling by a thin wire.

"How did you find me?" She asked calmly, closing her eyes again and there was silence for a moment before she heard a chuckle, and the sound of chair legs hitting the ground.

"You could at least act surprised. Do you realize how hard it was to track you down, Zeldie?" Her lips dipped into a frown at the casual way he said her nickname, but she said nothing else, willing her pulse to stay even, her mind to stay clear.

"Ah, right, you asked me a question. I suppose I can answer it. You see, I saw your face, Zeldie. And me, I've got a memory for faces. So I reconstructed your face on this handy computer program, sent it to a colleague of mine. And the thing about towns and cities like this, they have cameras everywhere, at traffic lights and ATM machines, on buildings and light poles. All we had to do was take the footage from all those things-and there were tons-and find you. Not that it was easy, mind you. But then, a few days ago, that colleague of mine sent me a picture, of cute little Esmeralda Medina, standing at a crosswalk and wearing a Gallagher Girl uniform. You may be able to hide from the rest of the world, sweetheart, but you can't hide from the camera. Well, I bet you actually could, couldn't you?" He laughed again, and she remained motionless as he traced a finger down her cheek, hot against cold.

"Come on, Zeldie, don't you want to know who I am?" He asked after a moment, the laughter still in his voice as he sat on the edge of the table. Her voice, he mused, matched the look of her, smoky and mysterious. She opened her eyes then, and they were the same as he remembered, a deep, swirling gray that tried to draw him in.

"My name is Esmeralda. And I know who you are. I have no intention of working for Creed." She saw him pause at that, and his eyes lit in appreciation.

"You know, I knew you were smart. God knows you're skilled. You're wasting your time here, playing school girl. Getting, what, extra credit or something for stealing government info?" At her bland look, he tossed his head back and laughed. "You do! It's extra credit! God, that's just great. That's really great." The movement had sent his earrings swinging, and when he saw her attention was focused on them, he nodded, his lips curving.

"Ah, you recognized the earrings. How did you know that was one of our symbols?" He asked, and she arched a brow, a superior look that she somehow managed to pull off even tied to a table.

"Right, right, I forgot. You're The Ghost. There's not much you can't find out. That's why we want you. You're the best, no question. And Creed is made up of the very best. But you know that, don't you?" He asked, and he could almost see the data scroll in her eyes as she kept staring at the earrings.

"Creed is composed of rogue agents and operatives, many, if not most of whom were considered to be the top in their respective fields. A percentage of those operatives were suspected of having been forced into joining, threatened or bribed as was necessary. Those who refuse to take a position in Creed once it is offered to them are disposed of, no exceptions. The organization itself spans over five continents, though its main Headquarters is here, within the US. Somewhere, though exact coordinates have yet to be obtained, in the vicinity of North Carolina." At this, she saw his eyes narrow, and he leaned over, his face inches from hers.

"Where did you get that information?" He demanded, and her lips curved in a humorless smile.

"Extra credit," Was her reply, and he stared at her, his eyes dark and intense, for a long moment before he scoffed, backing away and jumping off the table to stand over her.

"It seems we didn't give you enough credit. You'll tell me your sources eventually, you know. I can be very…persuasive." He said, and she met his stare head-on. It was no secret, really, but damned if she would tell him a thing. She wondered how this tracker would react if he knew that The Ghost had already played his role, months before, and had tracked down two Creed members; that she, too, could be very persuasive when it suited her. They'd told her what she'd wanted to know, even if they hadn't known exactly where to find the main Headquarters. All the information had been reported, and then 'forgotten', stuffed forever in a file in her brain. And then no one had ever seen either of the Creed agents again.

"Keeping me here was quite foolish, you know. I was expected in class, and when I don't appear, someone will come looking for me. They'll be searching the whole school thoroughly." When he merely smiled again, she sighed mentally, turning her wrists a bit in the bonds.

"Yes, they'll search. There'll be quite a panic, I think, when they realize, if they haven't already, that The Ghost has made an unscheduled disappearance. But they won't find us here. No one knows about this place but you and me. We wouldn't be here otherwise. I'm not quite as foolish as you think I am, Zeldie."

Personally, she considered him to be her own personal anti-Christ. There was no way; absolutely no way she was going to join Creed's ranks. It was completely out of the question, and against everything she'd ever stood for-and when you were constantly switching identities you stood for many things. So, besides abandoning all her morals and beliefs, she had two options.

Option 1: Escape the Creed recruiter's 'evil clutches' (if you wanted to be dramatic about it)

Or,

Option 2: Let Creed 'dispose' of her.

After a few moments of considering the pros and cons of both options, she decided that escape was definitely the preferable option. And she was, after all, trained at being invisible. And it was quite easy for someone who was invisible to escape the notice of a single man with earrings dangling from his ear. Now the only question was: how?