Disclaimer: don't own.
Chapter 2
Decisions
Vincent followed his mark down an alley close to Sacre Cour.He was'nt sure if he was doing the right thing, but you went where the work took you. He looked around to see if he was being followed, a nagging suspicion that all wasn't right. Sam's words came back to him. "If there is doubt, there is no doubt". The first lesson. The mark turned left into a small bistro, ordered a beer and sat at the window. Merde! He couldn't get closer than this. If he followed him in he'd be made. The nagging suspicion that he was being followed became almost unbearable.He shrank into a doorway, took his pistol out and waited.
Moody followed the muggle.For a non-wizard, he was good at what he did. He knew Moody was there but couldn't find him. The mark had gone to ground in a bistro and was waiting to make his connection with his master. He really didn't have time to deal with the muggle and sort this problem out, but he had no choice. Moody moved fast. Take the muggle out of the picture first and everything else would fall into place. As he drew his wand a voice at his ear said "Don't make me kill you, friend. This one is mine." For an auror who believed in constant vigilance this was a sign. "If a muggle can get the drop on me, I'm getting too old to be active".
Vincent couldn't believe his eyes. Could this be the same old man he had talked to in the cafe? "You look like you have seen the bad side of the game so you have a choice." Vincent took a step back and thought furiously. "Walk away now and live or we'll dance the dance." The scarred old man did nothing. He just stood there and smiled.
Moody found all this rather amusing. He braced himself for what was to come and thought, "Right ya bastard, lets see how good you are". Moody cast a disarming spell and the weapon flew from the young man's hand. He took a step forward and turned, bringing his wand up, and as he did he met the barrel of a Walther PPK under his chin. "You're good, old man." Who was this man? "That one you can have for free, now stop getting in my way."
Merde! Merde! Merde! None of this was going to plan. Ten years of training, ten years of living on the edge and still an old man had got the drop on him.Vincent was trying to work out where to go from here when it all went to hell. The old man took a step back, turned towards the mark and was suddenly lost in a cloud of smoke, looking considerably more dangerous than he had before. There had been something, though, Vincent thought as he began to move. Shock, maybe. This wasn't going to plan, for either of them. But if it hadn't been the old man, then that left ... The mark! Vincent tried to follow the source of the smoke when he was hit from the side by what felt like a hot iron. He went down, vision tunnelling. Merde!
Moody was in the middle of trying to remove his muggle problem when his eye picked up a movement at the end of the alley. Moments later, a fog filled the area. Great! Bloody great! First a goddamn muggle gets the drop on him, then he lets himself get distracted enough to allow the enemy to do the same. Dammit, Moody, he growled, stepping sharply to one side to avoid a hurled curse, you've got to be more damned careful! No sooner had he said this than he saw something to distract him again. The muggle was down. Dammit. Boy had no business being in this bloody place. He shouldn't have followed him. He shouldn't have let muggles get involved. Now the boy was paying the price of his mistake. He spun, firing off deterant curses into the magical fog, and moved to the fallen muggle. He was starting to come around, but the reducto had taken a lump out of his arm. Severe blood loss. He would have to get him seen to. That meant he'd lose the mark. Ah,to hell with it. Pureblood arrogance wouldn't let the bastard stay low for long. He'd pick him up again. The boy's life was more important now. 'Hey, kid? You got somewhere safe we can go?' The muggle's bleary gaze met his, nodding an affirmative. Quickly, Moody dove into his mind long enough to grab the location, and they apparated out. He derived some mild amusement from the thought of how the muggle would react to this.