Sango and Miroku walked through the double doors to the airport. The hustle and bustle of passengers coming and going on their summer trips. It was a little over whelming to the pair. They desperately searched out a familiar face, but with no hopes of finding one. Miroku spotted a teller, and decided it best to pick up their tickets, and as he put it, ask for directions. Sango seethed as she mumbled to him about wanting to get something to drink, and made a hasty retreat.

"Stupid lecher," she mumbled to herself, "can't even try to hide his passes. Now I remember why we live so far apart from each other, I can't stand his presence for more than a few hours."

She continued her silent tirade, ignoring the strange looks she was getting from the people she passed. It wasn't until she reached the machines that she noticed that she had left her purse with the lech. She inwardly groaned as she pictured herself having to trek all the way back to her amorous boyfriend just for some change. Then again, in her embarrassed state, that mountain dew painted on the machine's front was looking pretty tempting.

Sango was pulled from her self-torture by a smooth commanding voice. She turned and inwardly smirked. Well if it wasn't her old friend Saito.

"It's been a while Saito, I haven't seen you since you graduated from the academy. How have you been?" Sango asked. The elation at seeing an old friend smouldered her apprehension of having to find her boyfriend among a mass of teenage girls with breast implants and long blond hair. Life could be so cruel.

"It's been good, though I don't know if I could say the same for you." His voice never wavered from it's emotionless monotone, "You look a little lost."

"No, I just feel like a complete idiot. I came here to get a soda, but left my purse with Miroku." She sheepishly looked away, "Think you could spare seventy-five cents?"

"Nope. It's your own fault for forgetting your purse in a place like this. If you did indeed leave it with that pervert, then perhaps you would deserve having it stolen. Maybe then you would learn not to be so foolish." Saito turned away from her.

Sango huffed in annoyance, before she turned her back on him as well. To think that they once dated!

"What did you want anyways?" She asked, though not really expecting the answer that she received.

"I just wanted to see if you had grown a brain and left the lech. Obviously you have not, and my time was wasted. You haven't left him, even with the way he acts towards other girls. You still stay with him, and believe him when he tells you he hasn't cheated on you. You truly are dense." He walked away leaving Sango to gawk at his retreating back.

'How dare he?!!!' She was just short of being ballistic with anger. "WELL I WOULD RATHER BE WITH A PERVERTED LECH, THAN A STUCK UP ASS-HOLE LIKE YOU!!!!" He didn't even turn around. Now everything around her was silent as onlookers stared at her seething form.

"WHAT!!" She yelled. Everyone quickly returned to doing what they were before the drama had unfolded. Sango jumped as a pair of arms snaked around her form.

"Miss me?" Sango instantly settled when she recognized the boyish tones of her Miroku.

"Not really." She mumbled; this was going to be a long trip.

"Say Miroku? Where's my purse?"

"Ummm, I thought you had it?"

She instantly cursed; yep this was going to be one hell of a long trip.

################

Saito sat at a nearby window mulling over the events that had transpired recently. Shishio had been rumored to have moved his operations to a remote island in the pacific. His partner in crime Onigumo Naraku would be hosting a reality television show on the island.

Saito's superiors had come to him one week prior and informed him that he would be competing in the game incognito. This was to be his first real big case since joining the CIA, and so far, it was proving to be a pain in the rear.

When he had come across Sango's name registered as an attending competitor, he was hoping to be able to avoid contact with her as much as possible. Alas, fortune would not smile upon him.

He absently pulled out a cigarette and went to light it. A chirping reprimand from a nearby service attendant pulled him from his mussings.

"It's illegal to smoke in public places sir. Go outside if you must do that." Her voice was of an unnatural high pitch and he begrudgingly complied if only to silence her. A migraine was coming along, and it was going to be a monster of one at that.

'Oh how I hate California,' he idly thought.

He walked outside to a congregation of collected smokers as they huddled around a small container that was the acting ashtray. The haze that surrounded them gave a sense of comradery in their universal sufferings. Here among the 'common folk' his thoughts returned to the fiery vixen he once had his eyes set upon.

She was a warrior in spirit. When she had first entered into the academy, she was immediately ridiculed because of her sex. Women were not common it their line of work. She had overcome the segregation and cat calls, and he, Haijime Saito, respected her for it.

She had proved all the sexist 'pigs' there wrong by passing top of her class, and he loved her for it. Now she held a position among her co- workers at the station, and had a significant other with friends and a life in the open; and he envied her for it.

Now that he was with the CIA, there was no one waiting for him at home, no friends to pat you on the back for a job well done, and no life outside the 'office'. He was a secret. Everything about him was by law, a mystery. No one could get close without threat of danger. Who would want that? Why would SHE want that? Why when she had everything going for her. No, he would not pull her into the abyss that was his life. Distance was a necessary torture.

###############

"Mr. Naraku, Mr. Shishio; the guests should be arriving shortly." Kagura informed her employers. They gave a curt nod giving her permission to leave the room; which she did readily.

The two sat at opposite ends of a large oak table, polished to a mirror shine. There was an ash tray in the center filled to the point to overflowing with cigar butts and ashes. The room smelled of spilt brandy- wine and smoke.

"I believe that the CIA are onto us. My informant has told me that they plan to send a spy to your ridiculous show." Replied Shishio.

"It matters not. If there is a spy then, he won't have time to find anything. The show takes place on the opposite side of the island. You have nothing to fear." Naraku did little to hide his amusement. The show, though trivial, worked to a means.

It gave them a reason to inhabit the island on a twenty-four hour basis daily. No one knew of the true reasons for the island. It was so close to Japan. They would smuggle weapons and drugs through Japan, and China, to their intended destination. True Siberia wasn't much on the outside, but inside was a myriad of black markets, drug rings and other such under-the- table businesses. It was a villains Disneyland.

Their supplies were bought at ungodly low prices in Mexico; then smuggled to their final destination in Siberia where they were sold at unruly high prices. Naraku and Shishio were only the middle men, but it was them that profited from the deal the most.

Besides, Mexico couldn't do it themselves without the political repercussions of such an act. Especially if found out. Yes, politics played a pivotal role. If Mexico smuggled the supplies herself, then big bad America would find out and put a stop to it. If the poor country tried to stop though, she would go completely bankrupt due to corrupt officials and poverty.

Naraku smirked to himself. The stage was set. If the CIA wanted to play, then let them. He and Shishio held most of the underworld in the palm of their hands. Whomever it was the Americans sent was in way over his head.

Shishio stared for a moment at the emotions that were displayed across his partner's face. No doubt the imbecile was thinking about how close they were to conquering the world. Little did he know that Shishio shares power with no one. He would be the one in charge, but allowed his 'comrade' to dream. It was his ability to manipulate and plan that had gotten them this far. They had several countries practically eating out of their hands through political blackmail. He would allow Onigumo to have his fantasy for a while longer.