Tomas was weighing up his options. The air was so hot and still that he felt sick. If he irritated Bi-Han just enough, the cryomancer might bring the temperature down with his anger alone. Tomas scrunched up his nose in resignation. Bi-Han had a plan with microscopic details that only he knew, and any second wasted was likely to be severely dealt with. If only Kuai were still in action. He glanced at his friend, who was half-stumbling along the street, propped up by Tomas's arm and sheer willpower.

Going home was not as easy as Tomas had hoped. After the momentous length of the mission, he had somehow assumed that they would be airlifted out with a hero's welcome, or at least a pat on the back, or a nod. He sighed. The heat made the air before him waver.

"Kuai... Kuai can't you make it just a little colder-"

Tomas felt a grip on his shoulder and started in surprise. He had been so sure the older cryomancer had been in front of them.

"Encourage him to use his powers in public again, Vrbada, and I will make you regret it."

"Yes, Sub-Zero." Tomas said dutifully. Bi-Han walked on. Cold mists sifted about him as his temper simmered. Tomas gave a wicked grin, then hurried to catch up and stay near the cooler air.

It was mid-morning and they had traipsed by foot across the city to an out of town train station. Not only had Bi-Han insisted on flying from a different city, he had decided it was too dangerous to use the central railway station to get there. They would catch a train from a smaller connecting line which would take them all the way to Moscow. Once there, they would get to that airport, buy tickets and fly hopefully at some point in the next twenty-four hours. Even thinking about it made Tomas' head hurt. It did not help matters that Kuai was practically dead on his feet. The mental and physical exertion of the mission coupled with a larger amount of bloodloss than previously admitted had Kuai very low on energy. Tomas had also calculated that of the three of them, Kuai had not slept in the longest amount of time. It was probably coming up on thirty-two hours without sleep for him.

The out-of-town station was compact with tall dark windows that yawned grim in bleak white, long walls. Tomas could feel sweat dripping down his neck and seeping into his clothes.

"Come on, Kuai." He shifted his arm, helping his friend stand straighter.

"I'm okay, I'm okay." Kuai murmured, eyes glued to the ground.

Bi-Han pushed open the double doors with much more force than necessary. They burst open at his touch and slammed back against the wall. He strode in and his head snapped this way and that. Tomas watched him guardedly as he helped Kuai.

Bi-Han headed straight for the platforms but was halted by turnstile gates. He pushed one. It did not move. He gripped it tight and forced it. The steel whined and there was a snapping noise somewhere.

"Bi-Han... what about tickets?"

"We'll get them on the train."

"No, I mean... I think the little gates need tickets to open."

"This one's opening just fine." He pushed through the now complicit turnstile. Tomas glanced left and right. The station was relatively empty and it did not look like the vandalism had been noticed.

Fifteen minuted later they were standing on a hot crowded train. All the windows were open but the flow of air did not seem to let up the heat for Tomas. Every time an elbow from a passenger touched him he could feel a patch of sweat growing. He had found Kuai a seat and propped him up with their luggage. Somehow, in the tight confines of the carriage, Kuai had managed to droop himself over and half-fall asleep. Tomas could feel his tongue large and dry in his mouth and the sweat stinging his eyes. The shoulders straps from his luggage had painted stripes down his shirt. He closed his eyes and tried to think of anything but how hot it was. He looked up when he jostled into someone as the train turned a corner. Bi-Han had a mild frown on his face as he stared down at him.

"Sorry."

Tomas glanced over to check on Kuai. Kuai was tipped so far over he looked like he was about to fall off his seat. The train sped over a rickety length of track and Kuai lolled back upright. He shook his head then looked around him, brow creased, then his eyes began to droop again. Tomas leaned back to avoid further awkward proximity with his superior. His nose remained an ungraceful few inches away from Bi-Han's chest. Tomas' hair was clinging lank to his face and he could feel sweat bead on his forehead. The air was heavy with heat and damp and moisture cloyed thick over his eyelids.

"Bi-Han, would y-"

"No."

"You don't even know what I was g-"

"Cryomancy is not some common trick to be summoned at whim."

"I don't think its common, I never think its common! But please, just a-"

He broke off when he caught sight of the ice shards in Bi-Han's eyes. He sighed again and bowed his head in resignation. The large press of people around was stifling. It would be so easy to just vanish into smoke, to occupy that white silent world where all was flat and grey and worries were far away. For a second time that day he winced at a tight grip in his shoulder. He twisted under its pressure,

"Ah... ah- Bi-Han, ow- you're h-"

"Idiot." Sub-Zero hissed. "You're smoking!"

Tomas glanced down, his fingers were part way to insubstantial and his hair had gone from lank to soft and shifting and sifting on the air.

"Sorry!" He pulled himself out of the comfort of the world without senses and pushed away its inviting fingers. He winced under the Bi-Han's still present grip.

"Pull yourself together. I can't drag two of you along behind me. Step up your game, Tomas."

Tomas thought that was harsh, given that he was the one doing all the dragging, while Bi-Han just strode about everywhere pompously breaking public amenities.

"Yes, Sub-Zero, now can you- ah-" Bi-Han released him. Tomas glowered darkly at the floor for the next twenty minutes, concentrating on not being hot and not turning into smoke.

Eventually the train had pulled through so many small villages on the outskirts of the city that the crowds thinned down to manageable. Most people were probably commuting home, Tomas guessed, leaving a more sane number of people travelling on to Moscow. There was even space to sit down later on. They pushed Kuai up against the train window and Tomas squeezed in next to him. He regretted this seating arrangement almost immediately, as it meant staring across the train table at Bi-Han for the next few hours. There was the additional difficulty that their legs were too long to fold neatly under the table. Tomas had to contort his awkwardly in order to avoid getting in Bi-Han's way. He wished Kuai would wake up and say something to make the time pass a little easier.

Tomas had not spent much time alone with Kuai's brother before. He had been an ever present figure in his childhood, but Tomas had always felt like Bi-Han was an avalanche waiting to cover all in a blanket of destruction if one set a single foot wrong. He had the unique demeanour of one who was perpetually calm, calculated, laid back, and an instant away from punching any person he met in the face. Not an entirely false observation on Tomas' part. Bi-Han also had a kind of cold humour that Tomas had never found very funny. He had a particular languid derision that could pierce through the hardest armour. Tomas had long taken to keeping his head down whenever Bi-Han was around. It had seemed like the easiest way not to end up on the receiving end of any physical or verbal lashing. That said, it had been an incredible thing to see that cutting sarcasm levelled at someone like Sektor, whose relation to the Grandmaster made him untouchable when it came to physical retribution. And whilst it was true that Bi-Han would clout Tomas and Kuai hard over the head whenever he had found them sneaking round the Temple at night, he had never reported them. And every time Kuai spoke out in a class, or leant a hand to someone he was meant to compete against, or corrected a teacher's knowledge of history, or insisted on taking on someone three times his size if they picked on a friend... (it was a long list, Tomas considered)... hadn't there always been Bi-Han, ready to step in and fight his battles, take the blame and the punishment...?

Tomas watched the strange, cold man. He was staring off out of a window with a slight frown. His usually covered face was clean shaven, he looked strangely approachable and human in a polo neck sweater he had ripped the arms off when the temperature started rocketing this morning. It made a change from the highly traditional Lin Kuei robes he had chosen for himself and the mask that was almost omni-present, even during his time at the Temple these days. When had that happened? There had been a time when masks were just for missions. It went on as he left, and came off as he returned, laying bare a cocky smile for all the world as another perfect mission was added to the count. Tomas supposed there had come a time, perhaps to hide his emotions from jealous factions within the Lin Kuei, perhaps to better prove his professionalism to the Grandmaster, when Bi-Han had stopped taking off the mask.

"You're staring, Vrbada."

Tomas jumped and looked quickly down at the table,

"Sorry! I was just-... Sorry." Tomas ran a hand back through his hair. It was lank in the heat again, "I was just thinking... I mean... It's been so long since I last saw you without a mask..."

There was silence. Tomas cursed himself. The previous silence had been much more preferable to this one. He chanced a glance up. Cold eyes met his. He looked down again.

"We've been on a mission, Tomas. I take care to hide my identity. I should hope you and Kuai Liang do the same."

"Yes, of course." If he left the conversation there, this would not have to get any more difficult. Tomas was never one for running from confrontation. "But... I mean... I don't often see you take it off even at the Temple." The gaze definitely hardened. Tomas tried to temper his statement, "Not that it's any business of course, Sub-Zero, I did not mean to pry-"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Tomas. I always take my mask off in the Temple."

Tomas lifted his eyes in cautious confusion. Bi-Han turned and looked out of the window again.

"I told you. I wear my mask to hide my identity. Like I'm doing now."

Tomas' face creased in further confusion,

"Bi-Han... I don't... I don't understand... You're not wearing any..." He trailed off, finally grasping what the assassin was saying.

"Could you imagine what would happen if I revealed my identity to those on this train, Tomas? I would take off this façade of normality and become the assassin I am. That is why I say, the only mask I have is the one I'm wearing now."

Tomas and Bi-Han sat in silence for the remaining two hours, interrupted only by Kuai's intermittent sleeping and half delusional comments.

Moscow airport was so large the Tomas felt lost as soon as he had entered. Kuai was at least standing on his own, but from the look of utter bewilderment on his face he probably thought he was still dreaming.

"Tickets." Bi-Han said decisively and began surveying the array of queue, booths and outlets.

"Maybe we should find some food, Sub-Zero. It's been nearly a whole day since we've eaten."

"You're right, Tomas," Tomas' heart rose, "We should find food, that will fly us home to the Temple double as fast as a plane."

Tomas looked away quickly to hide his hurt.

"Find somewhere to sit Kuai down whilst I go and buy tickets. He's attracting attention with his gormless staring."

"Yes, Sub-Zero." Tomas said quietly. Then, "Should... should I buy the tickets? I can speak Russian." And, more importantly, read it. Bi-Han had been standing in front of a Cyrillic sign that read ′tickets this way' for the last ten minutes.

Bi-Han nodded curtly. He took his brother by the shoulder and steered him towards a row of seats. Tomas hovered nearby as he dug out wads of rubles and tried to count out a sensible number. He paused in his count as he heard a voice stand out above the background lull of the crowd.

"So tired..."

"I know. You've done well."

"A rest, please."

"Soon. Just a little longer."

Tomas peered sideways out the corner of his eye, watching as Kuai's head settled on his brother's shoulder. Bi-Han reached a hand up and brushed a hair from Kuai's face.

"You're doing well. Just be stronger for a little longer."

Tomas saw him lean forward and kiss the top of Kuai's head.

Tomas stopped what he was doing. Bi-Han looked up suspiciously. Tomas dug ferociously and made a show of finding a particular note that he did not need. He made a beeline for the ticket queue.

He stood for some time just thinking. The queue moved quicker than his mind, and all too suddenly he was meandering his way through half-remembered Russian to ask for a ticket. The airport assistant tried to help him by switching to English and Tomas replied in Mandarin. Eventually he bought three tickets to Beijing and nearly caused a security scare by paying for the entire lot in cash. He was detained for seven minutes and questioned, and had to produce his passport, which did not help matters, as the birthplace was Prague and the issue of origin was the People's Republic of China, apparently an uncommon combination.

By the time he got back Kuai was sound asleep on his brother. Bi-Han's face grew into its customary frown as Tomas approached.

"Sorry for the delay," Tomas took a proactive approach, "They didn't like the cash payment."

"You drew attention to yourself?"

"Yes, but-" He could see a fell light in the cryomancer's eyes and something primal inside him cowered, "But I don't think there's anything to be worried about, Sub-Zero – I was alone and I told them I was a tourist. I explained that I had this much cash because I did not understand their currency. They apologised to me eventually and hoped I had enjoyed my stay."

"Did you tell them you'd been to Serbia."

The question was flat and unintoned.

"No, of course not."

"Is there a Serbian stamp in your passport."

Tomas pulled it out and flicked through with a sinking heart. There it was, written in plain Cyrillic. Serbia, Belgrade. But Bi-Han can't read it... He entertained the thought of lying for about a minute, before realising that he had a complimentary Russian stamp next to it. Given that he and Kuai had never visited any other countries before... it would be a short ruse and a lot of hell.

"... Yes."

"Pick up the bags. We're leaving."

"What? Where to?! Bi-Han I've got the tickets now, it's not so long til our flight. They won't know we're here until after we've left if they find out at all, what's the worse they can do once we're on the plane!?"

"Other than turn it around when they suspect the murderers of a top foreign dignitary are on board, you mean?"

Tomas could have screamed. Instead he took a deep breath and swallowed.

"What... what should we do?"

"What's the next scheduled flight to depart?"

"I don't know..." He glanced up at the departures board, "There's one boarding in a few minutes time to London..."

"That will do. Go and buy three tickets."

"But... Bi-Han!? That's miles in the opposite direction! We-"

"Do as you're told!"

Tomas hurried to a different ticket office. This time, before buying the tickets, he told an elaborate sympathetic story about why he was paying fifty-two thousand rubles upfront. He hurried back to the brothers.

"I've got them, but Bi-Han, we haven't got time to check our hold luggage into the flight! What will-"

"Check the luggage into the flight to Beijing. I'll see that someone from the Temple picks it up."

Tomas watched the heavy canvass bags they had been carrying around for the last week vanish down a conveyor belt. He only wished that were him speeding off home to the Temple.

They pushed their way to the front of security and were hurried through, with much chagrin and frustration from the airport staff. To Tomas' surprise, Kuai had immediately begun to run with them when required. Tomas doubted his friend would be running so fast if he knew they were boarding a flight that would take them even further from home.

In only a few minutes time they were sitting on a plane ready to take off. The air conditioning was kicking in and Tomas found himself just glad to be out of the heat. In more ways than one. Kuai looked happy. He had great dark rings under his eyes and kept glancing out the window, waiting to see the plane take off. Tomas' heart went out to him. He decided telling Kuai they weren't going home yet could wait. His friend was smiling and looked years younger. Hi tilted his head to see passed Tomas through the little oval window. He turned back to his brother and made some comment about hoping to see the sunset as they lifted off. Bi-Han made a non-committal grunt.

The light was orange, red and gold as it came sideways through the plane. All the shadows leant onto the floor and bright colours set the cabin ablaze. The plane pointed up and all the world outside tilted strangely outside the little windows. Gradually it levelled and the plane turned to face the sunset. Kuai's face fell. Tomas saw him glance up at his brother. Something between confusion and betrayal showed on his features. Bi-Han looked straight ahead. Kuai looked out of the window again. Tomas said nothing. Kuai looked at his feet. In a small, quiet voice, he eventually said,

"Why are we going west?"

Neither Tomas nor Bi-Han answered him. Kuai became sullen and silent and eventually fell asleep. Tomas could not help feeling that this was somehow his fault. He looked over his sleeping friend to Bi-Han on the other side.

"What will we do when we reach London?"

The older assassin was quiet for a moment,

"First, I will contact the Temple. Then I will reassess the situation. Sleep now, while you can. The flight is only four hours. I will see that food is ordered for us."

Tomas found it hard to sleep despite being exhausted. He could not get the picture of Kuai's innocent disappointment out of his head. When he closed his eyes he drifted in and out of murky places between sleep and awake. His head was awash with grey mists and half remembered voices and something urgent but forgotten.

He woke up feeling feverish. Kuai and Bi-Han were eating ravenously out of tiny plastic trays. Kuai looked up and smiled at him.

"Got yours here." He handed the clinical miniature tray over with its transparent lid. Within was an array of small packaged goods and all individually wrapped looking like they required far too much effort for the level of hunger rumbling through Tomas' stomach.

When he finished eating he found himself hungrier than when he had started. The food had merely served to awaken his hunger rather than satiate anything. He looked at Kuai.

"Is this all there is?"

"It was complementary. We can purchase more from them when they come back."

"You seem more awake."

"Managed to get some sleep. Still feel like I could sleep for another three days." Kuai stretched. "Where are we going?"

"London." Tomas eyed his food tray for anything he might have neglected to lick clean.

Kuai sighed,

"Is there someone else we have to kill?"

"No, no. Nothing like that. Just... needed to take a detour to get-"

"Not here." Bi-Han cut through their conversation. Kuai and Tomas fell silent.

Kuai sighed again. He stirred restlessly until his brother stilled him with a glare.

"Bi-Han, I'm hungry."

"Stop whining."

"Ask that nice lady for more food."

"I'm not talking to her again."

"Why not, I think she liked you. She couldn't take her eyes off you. Reckon she appreciated your physique and- ow!" Kuai rubbed the place his brother had punched him. He leaned over to Tomas, "An air hostess likes him."

Tomas raised an eyebrow.

Kuai grinned at him. He looked up as an air hostess begun walking between the row of seats.

"Bi-Han! Here's your chance."

"Kuai Liang shut up or I will make you."

"Come on, I'm so hungry."

Tomas watched as Bi-Han uncomfortably addressed the woman. He ordered almost everything on the in-flight menu. It was certainly true that the woman spent more time looking at Bi-Han's upper body muscle than she did concentrating on her task.

"Of course, of course." She gave him a very particular smile.

"Did you hear everything I ordered." Bi-Han was being unnecessarily sharp. Tomas was fascinated by the idea that this of all things was the way to make the great Sub-Zero feel insecure.

"Most certainly," She gave another glittering smile then walked away. She looked back once over her shoulder and nearly tripped over a coat someone had left lying in the corridor. She scolded the passenger for the obstruction and hurried away.

"True love." Kuai whispered.

"Shut up." His brother growled.

Tomas was more interested in the food than the budding romance. He wolfed down everything he was given, feeling like he had not eaten in years. They attracted much disgusted attention from their fellow passengers as they demolished a sizeable proportion of the consumables on the flight.

When he had finished, Tomas could feel real sleep ready to take him away. He blocked out the sounds of the brothers irritating each other as Kuai pointed out that the hostess had returned to them another three times to ask if there was anything more they wanted.

This time when Tomas woke up, the flight was descending sharply. Kuai was fast asleep beside him and Bi-Han was flicking through a booklet pulled from the chair in front of him. Tomas made sure to wake his friend before the plane landed with a jolt. It paid not to let a cryomancer be awakened suddenly from sleep.

It was hard to take in that they were standing in another airport in another country, even further from home. The temperature was at least twenty degrees cooler here. He was at least thankful for that. Tomas blinked in the bright lights. By their own body clocks it was around midnight now. The clocks in London had wound them back three hours, so that it looked like their flight had only been an hour long, rather than four. Tomas yawned dispiritedly at the hour reading 21:03. He turned to the departures board and immediately began scanning it for a Beijing flight.

"There's a flight leaving in three and half hours time that-"

"No."

Tomas' heart fell. He was beginning to feel like Bi-Han built travel plans along the lines of what would cause maximum discomfort to his companions.

"Follow me." He led them to a information desk. He was easy and relaxed as he spoke to the attendant, "I have a friend who I want to check made their flight safely. They were due to catch a plane an hour or so ago from Moscow to Beijing. Did their flight leave on time?"

The attendant spend some time scrolling through information on a computer. Tomas knew Bi-Han well enough to tell that the assassin already knew the answers to all he was asking.

"Yes, sir. The flight left on time. 22:46 Moscow time." Bi-Han waited expectantly, "But... let's see. There's... some kind a problem. The flight is being rerouted to Kazan International Airport. It's likely to just be a refuelling matter, the flight is scheduled to continue after the stop has been made."

"Thank-you," Bi-Han said with an air of finality. He turned and they followed him as walked away. "And that is why we do not catch our flight yet. Our enemy are on high-alert."

"That could have been us..." Tomas bit his lip.

"Indeed."

"When can we go home, Bi-Han?" Kuai was blinking away his sleep.

"Well, the good news is that I doubt our enemies will be able to keep up the search for too long. The victim was being harboured by the Russian State and died in hiding inside one of their intelligence agencies. The will have to stage his death in another country if they do not wish to be implicated in an international controversy. The body is already not far off twelve hours cold. If they do no wish major suspicion to be aroused in an autopsy, the body will have to be found in the next twenty-four hours. The search for his murderers will have to be called off, or risk implicating Russian complicity in the victim's death."

Kuai was nodding like this all made perfect sense. All Tomas could think of was the ′twenty-four hours' part of Bi-Han's analysis.

"We have to stay here for twenty-four hours?"

"Not in the airport. That's a little suspicious. We will catch a tube into the city, and use a different London airport to leave. But yes. In around twenty-four hours."

Bi-Han went off to make further transport enquiries.

Tomas sat down heavily next to Kuai on a plastic orange chair screwed into the floor. He pushed his palms into his eyes and hunched over.

"We don't even have a change of clothes. Or... or anything..."

"Hmm." Kuai looked straight forward.

"I knew this was going to be a tough mission, but..."

"I guess once we... once I made a couple of mistakes in the mission, things sort of escalated out of hand. It could have all been a lot simpler if I hadn't..."

Tomas knew Kuai placed all the blame for the mission complications on himself. There was some good reason for that, but his friend never needed help finding things to blame himself for. He took guilt upon himself all too easily.

"It's fine, Kuai. It's done. That's the important thing. We can return home successful. There are some difficulties getting home without being noticed, but you were right to ask Sub-Zero to join us when you did. We have the best assassin in the Lin Kuei overseeing our travel. If anyone can get us back to the Temple incognito after a very high-profile assassination, it's him."

Kuai's face lit up and his bright blue eyes caught Tomas' with such unexpected gratitude that Tomas felt himself somehow embarrassed.

"I... thank-you, Tomas. That... It means a lot to me to hear you say that. I've been worried these last few days since you rightly told me off for asking Bi-Han here without your consent. I'm so glad you think I made the right decision at least once on this mission. I was worried perhaps I'd done the cowardly thing in just asking my brother to come and clear up my problems again – I know he's always sticking his neck out for me and that I should have to deal with the situations I have created myself. But you're right, neither of us would have thought to change airport after the mission, or to delay the flight home when we caused suspicion. Little good it would have done us to complete the assassination only to wind up in a Russian prison a day later." Kuai Liang gave him a full, genuine smile that made Tomas melt inside.

"Stop that." Tomas folded his arms and sat back, "You're half asleep and not thinking straight." The airport was mulling thinly with people. The only crowd gathered near the departures gate – taxi drivers all holding cardboard placards with misspelt names scrawled in felt-tip.

"Hmm I'm glad we got to eat on the plane. I can't believe I was grumpy at breakfast the day before and didn't eat properly before the mission. I've been so hungry for the last two days." Kuai scratched his nose and his gaze drifted to rest on the floor.

"What?!"

"All better now though. I'm feeling much less faint."

"Kuai, why didn't you say s-"

"By the way, Tomas, can you re-dress my hand for me?"

Tomas stopped part way through his outrage, when Kuai proffered his palm. Before they left the hotel in St Petersberg he had roughly bandaged up the hand Kuai split on barbed wire during his escape. The bandages were drenched red and unravelling.

"What? Has that not stopped bleeding yet?"

Kuai looked at it and shrugged. Tomas ground his teeth and reached for his bag. His bag was on route to Beijing via Kazan. He cursed and felt through a tiny side satchel holding his money. Bi-Han had made them leave in such a hurry that Tomas had not had time to replace the first-aid kit in his canvas luggage. He had stored it quickly in light satchel instead. Another unlooked for favour that Bi-Han's iron-fist had apparently bestowed upon them.

Kuai's eyes slid to half closed as Tomas reapplied the dressing.

"Don't fall asleep while I'm doing this."

Kuai murmured indistinctly. While focussing intently on unwinding the bandages, Tomas found his attention snagged by a loitering group of youths in his peripheral vision. He narrowed his eyes. A tingling went down his spine and memories younger days in the Lin Kuei's halls kept his guard up.

"You think they could be Russian intelligence?"

Tomas started. He had thought Kuai too tired to be aware of much, but as always he could pinpoint one of Tomas' discomforts in an instant.

"No, no. I doubt it." The youths were rangy and languid and draped on a billboard with half open dark blazers and mismatched shirts and loud voices that passed jokes to one another, "Just... reminds me of the way Sektor used to move about the Temple with his pack of aspiring cronies."

"Hmm. They're looking this way."

"Don't look at them. Can you pass me the water?" Tomas unravelled the last of the bandage and held Kuai's palm up to the light. A savage gash still at least a centimetre open was weeping intermittently. "You need to stop using this hand for a bit if you want this to seal. Other wise your going to need a whole load of stitches. Not fun in your palm. What did you do, grab the barbed wire and pull yourself up?"

"Hmm, pretty much."

Tomas shook his head. He could see their observers pointing their way and laughing to one another. They were probably around his and Kuai's age, Tomas guessed. He poured water on Kuai's hand. His friend flinched and the water immediately began to freeze.

"Kuai!?"

"Sorry. You surprised me, the ice just-"

"Sh-!"

One of the young men had broken away from the group and was sidling over with a casual saunter. He stopped a few paces away from where Kuai and Tomas sat. He hovered, pretending to interest himself in nothing, then looking back at his fellows passing silent grins and faces to them, drawing from their returned expressions to bolster his courage.

"Hey..."

Tomas capped the water bottle and set it down carefully.

"Hey, you with the pretty silver hair."

Tomas' heart sunk.

The speaker had a heavy London accent, and shining black shoes. That was all Tomas could tell of him while his eyes were firmly on the new bandage he was unravelling.

"I'm talking to you- you with the hair. What you going to ignore a guy just trying to start a chat? I just want a chat? What's up? Why you ignoring me? Come on, what's the deal?"

His cronies were edging closer. About four others, Tomas noted, sizing up which ones he should take down first if it came to it.

"Come on, mate, why you ignoring me? My mate Geoff just wants to know how you get your hair so smooth and pretty. He says it reminds him of his last girl. Wishes her hair looked as good as that. Got any tips mate? Any tips for Geoff's girl?"

Tomas felt Kuai ′s hand stiffen in his. He pressed it slightly in warning as he began to wrap the new bandages about it. The shiny shoes stepped closer.

"What... don't know anything about girls?" The young man laughed. His friends who had gathered to within a few yards of him all laughed with the same laugh too.

"Did you ask him about his hair, Harry?"

"It's a good colour eh, looks alright on my gran anyway."

The first man planted his feet before them and stuck his face in front of Tomas's. Tomas blinked in surprise at the proximity.

"Why the fuck aren't you answering me?"

Kuai leaned back then cracked his forehead down on the man's nose. The sound of the nose breaking was faint but the spluttered abuse and shout of pain that came after made up for it. The man double over and clutched at his nose. Blood came quick between his fingers.

"Holy shit, Harry. That fucker just-"

The other younger men advanced, one cautiously to his friend, the other three menacingly towards Tomas and Kuai.

"What's going on here?" Bi-Han had walked up in his polo-neck with the sleeves ripped off, holding an envelope brimming with tickets in one hand, and a fistful of banknotes he clearly had no idea of the worth of in the other. Whether it was his height, all the muscle he was showing or the addition in numbers, the confrontation sapped out of the remaining young men.

"Harry. Harry, come on mate, we got to check into our flight anyway. You want to get to Berlin before eleven we got to head." The incapacitated Harry was still bent over clutching his nose. His voice was a kind of nasal rasp spoken through bubbles of blood.

"What!? No, way after that kid just-" His friend stood him upright, and Harry found himself at eye-level with Bi-Han. He backed off and shot Kuai a look of fury and hatred before hurrying to follow his friends.

"What's going on here?" Bi-Han repeated, clearly still expecting to be answered.

Kuai looked at him easily and flexed the hand Tomas had just finished bandaging. He curled it into a fist.

"Just using my head, Bi-Han. Tomas told me to lay off moving my hand while it heals."

Tomas sat back in the plastic chair and stared up at the airport roof domed and far away. This can't end soon enough.


Author Note: Our favourite trouble magnets jet around Europe finding new ways to make life difficult for themselves. Focussed on Tomas and Bi-Han's relationship in this chapter, thanks Kuai for passing out for a day so that we could see how awkward your brother and friend are together. Poor Tomas, this is the guy that gave him an ice burn as soon as they met up in Russia. NEXT WEEK: double update concluding our tale! Yep today I sat down and wrote the last two chapters. I'll say no more. *wipes away tears*