THE FORGOTTEN

Men, women and children screamed in fear, scattering for safety as multiple shots rang out in the market square. Along with the disorientated crowd, Rufus and Wyatt found cover behind a cab, but not Lucy who pushed through the wave of colourful, fleeing sunhats.

Garcia Flynn sensed it then. Something didn't feel right, though at the same time, it seemed familiar. As if this was life, and he needed to survive whatever firestorm shadowed his retreating footsteps. Strangely curious, he glanced over his shoulder, scanning the messy backdrop to see what his gut feeling warned him about, and then met her eyes. His breath caught in his throat. She was his target, wasn't she? But then why was Lucy following him? He'd just caused a stampede to cover his retreating figure, and yet she showed no signs of stopping, and neither did her flanking bodyguards. Instead, together they shouted for him to stop, Lucy's petrified voice echoing high above the screams of terrified tourists.

His mind warped, instincts kicked in and he sprinted ahead, veering down an alleyway. Up ahead a staircase appeared, extending down to an open archway exiting unto a busy street. Desperate, he quickened his pace and leapt into the air, landing softly on the balls of his feet on a platform ten steps down. And continued leaping from platform to platform, until at the bottom the momentum nudged him into a shoulder roll. Running once more, he came to a sudden halt as vendors shouted prices at a river of eager tourists gazing about the diverse goods on display.

Garcia's eyes combed over the throngs and spotted a potential exit left up the street, and pushed through the thick crowd.

Wyatt caught him from behind, hurling them against a group of men before finally hitting the cobblestone street. Spontaneously, the dazed crowd formed a circle around the wrestling opponents. Watching with keen interest as the tall man broke free from the burly athlete who received a kick to the abdomen for the effort. A winded struggle followed, Wyatt fighting for breath, while to his dismay, Flynn pushed through the crowd and escaped down another alley. Even so, the spectators dragged him to his feet and shoved him after the man, cheering him on as he waved his thanks and sprinted away.

Meanwhile, halfway down the side street, Garcia skidded to a stop, facing the direction of the pursuing footsteps. He watched the soldier scowl before using the wall to launch himself into the air and received a fist to the jaw. The strength of the blow sent him down to one knee, his back turned to Wyatt who barely noticed the devious smile curling his lips. Swiftly, he took a fist full of sand and hurled it at the soldier. Its mantle carefully masked his incoming kick that aimed high and dangerous. Wyatt avoided the crafty strike just in time to duck down into a low kick meant for Flynn's left knee, and disabled him for an instant.

Shaky laughter echoed about them, Garcia observing how Wyatt moved into a defensive stance, taunting him to attack. Limping a few steps back, he mirrored the man's cocky stance, and smiled waywardly. No doubt, his opponent seemed determined, and yet he marked a hint of distraction. Again, the peculiar feeling of something being wrong peaked and it intruded upon his focus. The soldier did not intend to hurt him, and it sent the confusion to soaring heights.

Then again, since when did a soldier operate according to emotion? And since when did he not act upon impulse?

"Flynn don't." Wyatt warned once he noticed the resolve in his eyes. "Don't do it."

Garcia closed the gap in a haste, coming in with a left kick aimed at his jaw. This he stopped with the palm of his right hand. A fist followed which he blocked with his left hand. Soon after, a foot directed for his abdomen which he countered with both hands, and responded with a backhand to Flynn's cheek. The movement sent him staggering away, but Wyatt pushed off against the wall, came in with a high dismantling blow, forcing him down to one knee and placed his gun against Flynn's forehead.

"Wyatt don't!" Lucy shouted from behind. "He can't remember."

"No shit."

Garcia's brow furrowed before he went after the pistol, but Rufus hit him from behind forcing him down onto his stomach.

"Damn, even with memory loss, the guy's persistent."

"Yeah, no shit." Wyatt replied annoyed. "And for everyone's safety, just pat him down properly. Better be safe than sorry, knowing what he can do when his armed."

"Don't remind me. I have the evidence to show for it."

"Oh yes, don't we all." Flynn laughed as Rufus searched his person.

"This may sound strange." The geek retrieved the nine-millimetre from where it dangled beneath his arm, then went after his ankle holster. "I preferred it when you weren't trying to kill us."

Flynn scowled, bemused by their relaxed behaviour, and jested. "Aw, why the sudden change of heart?"

"You're asking us? Damn, he's really lost it."

"Well, the blow to his head definitely didn't scramble his arrogance."

"Should've hit harder." Rufus mumbled.

"Guys, just get him up please." Lucy pleaded as she approached them.

"Yeah, how hostile of us; not to be more courteous to a guy who still wants to kill us."

"Didn't try hard enough apparently." Flynn scoffed.

"Okay you know what." Rufus shoved him against the wall. "Why don't we leave him here?"

"Good idea. I'll even give you a head start."

"Flynn."

His gaze snapped to Lucy who glared disapprovingly at her guardians. She canted her head, instructing them to step aside. Not a wise choice being so careless, but he appreciated the action nonetheless. They retreated each to a side and watched from a distance while Lucy slowly stepped up to him.

"Is this the part where you tell me you've finally caught the monster?"

"You're not a monster."

The words echoed in his mind along with a sudden image of her donning a sky blue dress from the year 1954.

"You're a man who only remembers how broken and alone he is. You've forgotten all the good we've done."

"Don't pretend you know me. You don't know who I am."

"I do." Lucy gestured at the other men. "We all do, Garcia."

He chuckled at the absurdity. "How reassuring."

"Talking's not working." Rufus advised from the left.

"You have anything better?" Wyatt asked from her right.

"Just like old times, hey Lucy?" Flynn mocked. "You can't keep me from killing you. Just like you can't persuade me working together is a charming notion. And haven't we decided this already? Next time we see each other it's killed or be killed. Or did I miss something vital? Like having amnesia perhaps. It's a desperate clutch at a an even smaller straw. It's not a very good plan you've got going here, guys. Shame on you."

"I vote we knock him out cold, and drag him back to the bunker. There you can squabble to your heart's content."

Lucy sighed irritated, then noticed the vacant look on Garcia's face. Confusion flitted after, as a memory of him smiling up at her occurred. She'd just finished the cup of tea he made for her and left the room sharing his pleased smile. He blinked it away and held her gaze with a smug countenance. But she already noticed the minute variation in his demeanour.

"Are you okay? What did you remember?"

He frowned again, disliking the way she handled his presence so casually and considerately. Normally he terrified her, though today she seemed familiar with his darker side, even endured it for some peculiar reason, and appeared genuinely concerned. Except for their usual hostility, the men didn't seem bothered by him either. They tolerated him because of her, and somehow he liked how much influence she had over them. Both luring him and scaring him simultaneously, it confused the nature of his intentions.

"Okay, what the hell did you do to me?"

"You should ask what we didn't do." Rufus rectified.

Flynn growled, charging for Lucy but her lack of response caught him by surprise. He stopped abruptly, checking to see what his advance had done and glared perplexed. Wyatt merely moved into a defensive stance, with pistol poised. And Rufus shook his head, visibly exasperated by the action. They trusted her with him without waver. It confused him even more.

So what if his mind showed signs of relapse, didn't mean the objective had changed, but according to how they treated him, it had. Rather, they tried their best to accommodate him, to help him understand he wasn't the enemy. That he was someone who worked with them, helping them to take down Rittenhouse.

He held his head in frustration as more recent memories of their time together surfaced.

"A sleeper agent left you dying in the river. Rufus and Wyatt fished you out. Hours later, last night to be precise, you attacked us and fled. We've been chasing you ever since."

"Where are we?"

"Split, Croatia."

Recognition flashed in his eyes as he sought her eyes for the truth. "What? What year?"

"1973."

"Target?" He asked, for the sake of confirming what he already assumed.

"You." Rufus replied.

"I wasn't born until 1975."

"They were after your parents, you idiot."

He snarled at Wyatt. "I remember still not liking you."

"Feeling's mutual." He grumbled.

"And you." He gestured at Rufus. "I like a little better."

"Yay." He cheered sarcastically.

"But you." He bore Lucy with a scrutinizing look, seeing if it unnerved her, but she remained resolute unnerving him instead. "For some reason, I trust you with my life." He said low enough for her to hear, then ignored her surprised expression as he spoke up. "I take it the sleeper agent's dead?"

"Yes, you lived up to your natural charm."

"And I take it; you remember we don't want to kill you?" Rufus quired dubiously.

"I tried to kill you, remember."

"And he's back ladies and gentlemen."

"Not all there just yet, honey." He teased. Lucy snorted at his open audacity and walked away ignoring the wink he gave her.

"Don't call her honey." Wyatt said offensively as he passed him and joined the others who made their way towards the main street.

"Okay sweetheart, I'll try my best."

"Whatever do you see in him?"

Flynn heard Rufus ask of Lucy. Next, he saw the sly grin curl her lips and observed how she glanced over her shoulder at him on purpose before she looked ahead.

She shrugged and replied once he joined them. "The same threat Rittenhouse sees."