There was a low hum of conversation between the others in the room when an alert sounded through Boris' earpiece. Lifting his hand to still the background noise he pressed it a little further into his ear to acknowledge, frowning as he focussed on the confused chatter from multiple radios. Only when an enquiry was directed to him did he respond. His frown deepened momentarily before he looked up at the two Sportacus'.

"I think there's something you should see," he informed them before rising and quickly leaving the house.

Both noticing that their crystals hadn't gone off to alert them of trouble, Sportacus' junior and senior nodded at one another before taking off after Boris. They were quickly on his trail and followed him as he ran towards the copse of trees on the edge of town. Standing beneath one particular tree were a group of three of Boris' men, all looking up at a treehouse long abandoned since all of the children of the town grew up. Drawing closer to the group and the structure all three men could hear muffled protests from a very familiar voice.

"No! No I'm not coming out! I'm staying right here!" The voice wailed after an indistinct comment from one of the men beneath.

Coming alongside his men, Boris looked up and saw a red faced Robbie Rotten squeezed into the child sized play place. At his appearance, Robbie seemed to flinch and retreat slightly further from the square 'window' propped up by a stick. Keeping his eyes fixed on the space the villain had occupied, he tried to keep himself calm and objective.

"Robbie!" He called up, "What is going on?"

"I'm hiding from Ché. If he finds out about the tunnels he'll kill me!"

"I think he already has a strong idea about them." A deep, Spanish accented voice responded from behind the group and generated a yelp from Robbie. "And he wants to know why they are there and how long you've been hiding them."

Throwing a sideways glance at Sportacus Ten, Boris turned round slowly to face the giant behind him. Being careful to keep his facial expression neutral he looked up at Ché and could see the flash of guilt that momentarily darkened the brown eyes looking down at him.

"We have dealt with the tunnels, Ché. Nothing else needs to be said." Boris stated calmly.

Despite Boris' calm explanation, Ché flared up, "What do you mean there is nothing else that needs to be said when Robyn gets pulled through them and attacked?!"

At hearing this, Robbie's retreat to the back of the treehouse turned to a hurried movement back towards the window. "What? When did this happen? Is she ok?"

"She's in shock and she has grazes from where she was dragged, something pulled her in through the hatch in the living room at your house. Skip found her." Nine filled him in, barely maintaining his outward exterior of calm.

In a state of panic, Mordayne's threat ringing in his ears, Robbie shuffled himself back and tried to pull at the hatchway that would allow him exit from the treehouse. It refused to open though he fought to wrench it open. His haste blinded him to the fact that he was trying to pull it open while kneeling upon it, blocking his exit. After several more tugs at the handle he realised his error and clumsily moved over, yanking the handle and throwing the hatch open. He overbalanced as he did so and tumbled through the gap, with a lightning fast reaction Sportacus ten dashed forward and caught him before he hit the ground. With an awkward thank you, Robbie regained his balance as he was set down and looked anxiously at his rescuer.

"Where is she?"

"Trixie's," Sportacus replied.

Without waiting for further explanation, Robbie rushed from the copse and back towards town, the others following him. Though moving quickly, for him, it seemed as though it took forever to cross the distance between one side of the town to the other where Trixie lived. He tried to fight the surging discomfort he felt, knowing that Robyn would pick it up. The reception he would get from her after their argument that morning mattered little to him as he reached Trixie's door and knocked upon it. He just wanted to know that she was ok. Thankfully his knock was answered quickly and he almost leapt inside the house, the layout unfamiliar to him he followed Trixie's quick directions to the spare room where Robyn was staying. Feeling nowhere near as calm as he wanted to, he knocked once on the door before opening it and entered.

Robyn was in much the same position that he imagined she'd been in when the others had left her to bear witness to his stupidity and cowardice, his neglect. He walked slowly towards her, waiting for her to acknowledge him in any way but finding no sign of awareness within her large eyes or her pale face. Sitting down beside her on the bed he wondered if he would startle her but still she made no movement, even when he brushed her hair back from her face.

"Kiddo?" He whispered, almost afraid that she was barely alive.

Robyn's voice was gravelly as she responded, "He pulled me into the tunnels and he's still here."

It was some hours before Langford returned to town, his vehicle skidding to a halt as he exited it rapidly and ran into the base through the driving rain assaulting the town. Those that had been in the car with him followed suit, entering the base after him but following him no further. In his hand he held a dark bag, only big enough to contain a single item. Leaving drops of water on the floor as he pushed through the corridors towards the office he allowed himself to think back on the events of the day. His perception of the morning had not changed, the cloying feeling in the pit of his stomach remained as did the stark images he hadn't been able to remove from his mind. Pushing the door to the office open, he wasn't surprised that Boris was sat at his desk, the Russian looking away from his laptop screen and up at him as he entered before his eyes instinctively settled on the bag he placed on the desk.

"That isn't who I think it is, is it?" Boris asked, indicating the bag with his eyes.

Langford nodded once, "Yep. It's him alright though I can't say he's any prettier now than he was when he was alive."

"Where did the bag come from? You didn't take one with you."

"Compliments of Morgan." Langford replied after a long exhalation of air through his nose. "The little shit knew we were coming. I hate to say it but he's toying with us."

Leaning back, Boris rubbed his head, "It certainly sounds like it."

Unzipping his jacket, Langford reached inside and pulled out a rectangular envelope, "There was this as well." He said, holding it out for Boris to take. "It's addressed to you."

Half rising from his chair, Boris reached out for the envelope, seeing the outline of something within it as the lights in the office created a silhouette effect. Taking it gingerly in his fingers he noticed that it had not been properly sealed shut, that the flap had simply been tucked inside the envelope making it accessible to him. Drawing in a deep breath he placed it on the desk in front of him and after a few moments started to unfold the flap and reveal the top edge of a card. Shuffling it out of the envelope with his thumb he flipped the card over, the front depicting a wintery scene – trees in a small wood frozen white with frost. His eyes flicking briefly upwards to look at Langford he opened it, a myriad of expressions played upon his face as he read the words simply written, words that he wanted Langford to see as he handed the card up to him.

Langford struggled to contain his disbelief and rising disconcertment as he read the words, 'Dear Boris, I was sorry to hear of the incident involving my mother. To lose a limb is such a terrible thing. It is fortunate that my dear sister was there to aid you, though without your presence I'm sure the outcome may have been far worse (at least for her). Please accept my condolences and my wishes that you will get well soon.

My kindest regards,
Morgan'