Author's note: Whoa. Thanks for the reviews, guys. They're much appreciated and motivate me to write.
Anyway, following is the first chapter of the story. I apologize if things seem confusing - they will clear themselves up in due time.
Unfortunately, no S/V in this chapter. They will show up by the next installment though.
Location: Berlin, Germany
Time: Two months prior
It's the pre-dawn hours in Berlin.
For most Berliners, this is most definitely a time for rest.
After a long day at work and play, it only makes sense to curl up on a comfortable matress and drift off into the soothing dream world for a few hours, before returning to reality.
However, in a far and isolated corner of the slumbering city, a young man is too busy thinking about how to effectively dodge his enemies, to even ruminate about the possibility of dreaming.
He is running for his life.
Dressed in a pair of black jogging pants and a thick navy sweatshirt, the blonde-haired college-aged student looks like any regular sports enthusiast, out for a little early morning exercise.
Granted, it's ridiculously cold outside, but that's never stopped physical fitness addicts before, right?
But for those in the know, this is more then just a run. This is a flee from the evils that are about to overrun this man's life.
They've taken his sister already, and he knows that it is only a matter of time before they come for him as well.
As his footsteps thud quiently on the worn gravel streets of Berlin's commercial district, the young man glances quickly at his watch before making a sharp right.
He has now veered into a street devoted largely to small clothing botiques, and it is here, he will try to initiate contact.
Trying to ignore both the thudding in his stomach and the feeling that he's being wathced, the young man pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose before making his way to a pay phone located at the far end of the street.
Striding purposefully, the young man reaches the public phone in a matter of seconds. Though the phone is not in an enclosed booth, he will have to take his changes. The young man glances surreptitiously around before grabbing the bright red handle.
As the sound of the soothing dial tone hits his ear, he reaches into his pocket and quickly pulls out a crumbled business card.
With shaking hands, he drops some coins into the machine and quickly dials the scrawled numbers on the back.
The phone is answered within a matter of seconds. "Hello, American embassy."
"I need to speak to Sydney Bristow." His words are clipped and hurried, as he glances over his shoulder.
Although the streets are still deserted, he still needs to be careful. There's still no telling who might be listening.
In recent months, ears have started popping up everywhere. Much like "Big Brother" in George Orwell's 1984, much of those "in the know" in Germany are now being watched.
One toe out of line for any of them, and it's over.
The voice on the other end - 'female, young' - hesitates, before querying, "I'm sorry, who?"
Although he knew earlier on, that he would be met with reticence and flat out denials when he attempted to contact Fräulein Bristow, he is still annoyed at the woman's refusal.
'Can't they tell that this is a matter of urgency?'
Trying hard not to let the phone slip out of his clammy hands, the young man quickly checks his watch. Time is running out. With every tiny click of his watch, he is coming nearer and near to his death.
He tries again. "I need to speak with Sydney Bristow. She is a CIA officer and I need her help." He hopes that insistent ring in his voice will prove that he is indeed, serious.
The voice on the other line hesitates again. "Who is this?"
Tick, tick, tick. The clock continues to tick away.
His final words are hurried and rushed. "I'm someone that needs Fräulein Bristow's help. I have information for her about the rätsel project.It is absolutely vital that I speak t-."
With a sudden burst of static, the young man's words are cut off. Try as she might, the young switchboard operator at the CIA main phone bank can't get him back.
The phone line is dead.
