Sup guys? Thanks for the reviews and favorites! I still have absolutely no idea where I'm going with this xD I was really tempted to remove the most recent chapters and end the story…but I'll plow on and hope this won't turn into some sort of literary disaster…

Oh and I've never been to London so if my geography is completely off, I apologize.

This is going to be relatively short and I won't update again until after I've read Snakehead

Disclaimer: see first chapter

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Alan Blunt drummed his fingers on his desk as he gazed down at a piece of paper in front of him. He was sitting in his bland office at the Royal & General Headquarters in London. His attention was only partially fixed on the piece of paper, however, and he kept gazing at a small potted plant on his desk. The plant itself was shriveling, unhealthy, and appeared as grey as the room it was in and the man who owned it. However, the hiss of static was coming steadily from the plant, or rather, the pot it sat upon. The potted plant had been a gift from Smithers, and it was actually a communications device. Now, the voice of Mrs. Jones emitted from the plant.

"Alan? It's been confirmed, the boy didn't reach his destination. We found his football in one of the paths. We have agents preparing to search the thickets and positioned at all strategic exits from the thickets."

"I see. I want you to pay special attention to Kensington High Street. Send Wolf there"

Mrs. Jones hesitated. Alan Blunt had been known for his extraordinarily good sense of intuition while he had been a field agent. But that was a long time ago…

"That's on the other side of the park, Alan, and there are many people there…"

"I know." Came the cold reply.

"And about sending Wolf?"

"It's the best we can do. Out of all of us, Wolf may be the one Alex trusts the most. But it's a long call. We may have already lost. "

IIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Monsieur Marcswong sends his regards."

It seemed as though all the air had left the clearing. Alex froze. Part of him was paralyzed with fear, and another part was screaming at his helplessness. After all his training, everything he's been through, he still could do nothing each time he found himself in a situation like this. His internal battle of fear and frustration was enhanced by the fact that the man behind Yassen was massive. He was like a bear, and Alex was astounded that he had managed to enter the clearing so quietly. Standing near the man, Alex felt incredibly weak and young. Alex glanced at Yassen, who was standing taut as he was being disarmed by the Bear man. There was no expression in his eyes, but his lips formed a word. Run. Alex knew that if he did run now, he had a chance of getting away, but he couldn't.

The Bear man glanced at Alex. "You, little Alex," he snarled, "will walk ahead of me now. I shall be behind you with dear Yassen here. If you try anything, Yassen will die and then you will die. Comprend?'

Alex nodded reluctantly. There was nothing else he could do. He trudged off in the direction the Bear man had directed him. They walked in silence and the Bear man only spoke to give Alex directions. Once, Alex had accidentally turned the wrong way and was rewarded with a bullet came so close that it burned his nose. Finally, after thirty minutes, they exited the thicket and emerged at the edge of Abbotsbury road. There was no one in sight aside from a waiting van. Alex almost groaned out loud. Holland Park was almost always packed with people at this hour, but now, there would be no help. The Bear man smirked.

"We arranged to have this place abandoned. I'm sorry to dash your hopes, little Alex." He said sarcastically. He turned to the van, which had been painted to resemble that of a flower store. There was a driver waiting inside.

"In." Bear man commanded, with a small wave of the hand that held the gun. That was a mistake. The moment Bear man moved the gun away from Yassen's head, both Alex and Yassen struck. Alex lunged himself at the Bear man's hand that was wielding the gun and managed to shift the gun foreword as it went off. It was like hanging on to a tree. The bullet grazed Yassen's throat, right below the spot where John Rider had previously left his mark. As the Bear man flung Alex off, Yassen freed himself, ignoring the blood that was streaming down his throat and struck at the back of the Bear man's neck before he could react. The blow hit a pressure point, and Bear man collapsed, unconscious. Another shot went off followed by a tremendous crack, and Alex turned to see that the driver of the van had attempted to shoot at Yassen from his van. But the bullet was stopped by the van's bulletproof windows. Yassen took the Bear man's gun from Alex and fired. His shot hit the exact point where the driver's bullet had hit milliseconds before, pierced the weakened glass, and found its mark.

Alex and Yassen ran, but they had only moved a couple meters from the van when they found themselves surrounded on four sides by more vans that had come from seemingly nowhere. The vans had stopped in perfect formation and there was no room between any of them. Yassen cursed loudly in Russian as Alex muttered an oath in English. The drivers of the vans were all wearing identical smirks, and taking their time exiting the vans. They had trapped their prey, who had nowhere to go. But Alex noticed that he was standing on a manhole. Quickly, he bent down and tried to lift off the manhole cover. But it wouldn't budge. Alex tried again but realized that the manhole was completely sealed off. Bloody Hollywood action movies. Yassen grabbed Alex and pulled him up. They were now surrounded by the four drivers, all holding automatic pistols. A man emerged from one of the vans. He had brown hair and eyes and was wearing an expensive-looking business suit. He was Lukas Marcswong.

Marcswong glanced at Alex and Yassen appraisingly and then he spoke.

"The thing about luck, gentlemen, is that eventually, it runs out."