"Isla, how many times do I have to tell you how to do this? It's not that fucking hard to figure out. Are you really that stupid or are you just trying to wind me up today?"

Scott's head snapped around to see their waitress still standing beside the coffee machine, but her whole demeanour had changed, likely due to the unpleasant man currently berating her. The man was shorter than Scott, maybe around 5ft 7 or 8 to his 6ft 2 and even though he didn't seem to have hit his middle years, looking to be in his mid to late 30's, he had already succumbed to the spread and his hair seemed to be slipping off the back of his head, longer at the back and pulled back into a ponytail, with a very receding hairline at the front. His eyes, when he turned them on Scott, were hard and cruel and his mouth, which was framed by an unkempt looking goatee beard, was turned up in a sneer. It was clear that at one time in his life he might have been quite good looking, but that had not been for a long time and he was now nothing special but still believed he was, exuding an aura that told Scott he clearly thought he was the catch of the century.

"You got a problem?" the man snapped, glaring at Scott.

Scott paused, shocked that someone could be so blatantly rude and confrontational to someone who was clearly a customer in a quite busy restaurant. But his silence didn't last long.

"Yes, I've got a problem with the way you just spoke to your colleague."

"Just who the fuck do you think you are to tell me-" the man stopped when the waitress, Isla, grabbed his arm

"No, there's no need to-"

The man roughly shook her off, shoving her aside. "What are you trying to do? Defend this pretty boy? What, has he been flirting with you and you liked the attention?" He laughed, a sound that was as cruel and mocking as his tone and the look on his face.

"No, I-" Isla started but Scott jumped in.

"I was doing nothing of the sort and I thank you not to throw allegations around like that."

Scott felt more than saw John appear by his side, obviously drawn by the commotion and his brother's raised voice, as had a number of other customers who had turned to watch.

"Everything OK here?" John touched his shoulder to Scott's letting him know he was right there and backing him up all the way. It wouldn't be the first time that Scott had been recognised by someone and trouble had started, although usually it was a different Tracy that acted as the buffer.

"I think so," Scott said, giving the man a glare that showed that it was anything but OK, practically daring him to argue.

"No, it's not OK," the man said. "This twat has been making eyes at my staff and putting her off her job." The man swept a look out over the dining floor and the customers that had been looking quickly averted their eyes away from the argument, leaning in to whisper among themselves.

John frowned, something about the man's attitude, coupled with his rough Scottish tinged accent made him pause. Could this be…

"Chris, it's alright, leave it be," Isla soothed but once again he pushed her aside and she couldn't hide her gasp of pain as her hip connected with the counter top behind her.

"Are you OK?" Scott asked her but Chris butted in again.

"She's fine, but you won't be if you don't back off."

Christopher Tyler was the name that Nathaniel had adopted as his own, his new identity. All the calm that John had managed to claw back over the cause of their meal, the realisation he'd come to that maybe it would be better for him not to meet his wife's ex, all of it drained away as the man in front of them continued to berate their waitress and accuse his brother of who knew what.

"I was just going to ask if we could take our coffees to go as something's come up," Scott insisted, having obviously missed the man's name during the exchange.

"You aren't getting no fucking coffees, you're going to pay your bill and leave."

"Now, wait just a second-" Scott protested but Chris jumped in again, cutting him off.

"No, you pretty boys are all the same, you think you can come in here, flashing your cash, oozing charm and pick up some local to fuck while on holiday. Well, I'll have you know that that is my woman and you won't be so much as looking at her again if you like your nose where it is."

"Chris!"

"Shut the fuck up!" he yelled, turning to face her, his hand raised threateningly. Isla instantly shrank away from him, backing down, accepting his warning. A few customers gasped at the outburst but didn't make any move to intervene.

"Isla was it?" John asked, trying to draw her attention towards him. "Do you need our help? You don't have to let him treat you this way, you don't have to accept this, we can help you."

Isla kept her head bowed, her eyes focused on the floor, refusing to acknowledge that John had even spoken.

"We can help you," John promised her, keeping his voice low and calming, as he would a scared caller needing their help. "You don't need to be scared."

"Hey, who the fuck do you think you are, poking your nose into something that's not your business?" Chris growled, planting his meaty hands on the counter as he leant over it, pushing his intimidating attitude towards John and Scott. "You rich boys, you think you know everything, well you don't. You don't know shit."

John very rarely got angry, but when he did it was spectacular in its intensity. An angry John was one of the scariest things in the world, scarier than Grandma and Selene put together. He didn't shout, that was Scott's department, John was quiet, controlled, measured...dangerous. Scott realised now who the man in front of them was and kicked himself for having not seen it before. All he could put it down to was just how different Nathaniel, Chris, was to John. They couldn't have been any further apart in personality or looks if they had tried.

John, for all his reserved shyness was open and warm, he radiated calm trustworthiness and he was loving and kind, the perfect accompaniment to Selene's chaotic, bouncy energy. Chris in a complete contrast, felt like pure darkness, he had what Selene would call a menacing aura and he made you want to get away from his presence as quickly as possible. Scott wasn't one to judge someone on their appearance, but Chris looked cruel, like he would walk away if he saw you in trouble rather than bothering himself with helping. It just didn't compute that Selene could have ever been with someone like him, let alone for so long.

John drew himself up to his full height of over 6ft, staring down at Chris like he was the most disgusting thing he'd ever seen. He knew they had promised not to engage, but they could never in good consciousness, allow someone to continue abusing their partner while they walked away and did nothing.

"Oh, I do, I know all about you," John assured him, his voice quiet and even, he knew he didn't need to shout to make his point. His inner beast, even if it did take the form of a house cat, was snarling in response to the vibes the man was giving off. It didn't like him one bit and his every instinct screamed at him to remove the threat. But John wasn't one to engage physically if he could help it, he knew that carefully chosen words could cut deeper and the wounds last longer.

"Like fuck you do," Chris sneered, yet he took an involuntary step back although he quickly corrected himself, folding his arms across his chest. "Go on then, pretty boy, tell me what you think you know about me, I could do with a laugh after dealing with your shit."

"I know that you are a weak, pathetic bully that treats women like they are there to be nothing more than your verbal punch bag. You are an odious, disgusting excuse for a human being that never deserved even an ounce of the love that I'm sure she gave you."

Chris scoffed, an unpleasant snorting sound that made him sound like an angry bull. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about, does he, Isla? Tell him he's talking bullshit."

Isla kept quiet, obviously not knowing what to do for the best.

"You're fine, aren't you?"

Isla nodded and, when Chris wrapped a possessive arm around her waist and drew her in close to her side, she made no move to resist him.

"You don't have to stay with him," John told her again, keeping his voice pitched lower than he had when talking to Chris. "You have the right to feel safe, to feel loved and protected, to have things that you won't get from him."

"And she'd get them from you, I suppose?" Chris sneered dismissively.

"No, but Selene will," John replied coldly. That was the moment that he knew they had been right, he knew for certain that Lady Penelope had done her job, the information had been correct. Chris stiffened, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he looked at John and Scott properly for the first time, seeing them not as customers he could bully but people that might actually know something about him.

John watched Chris as he sized them up, his eyes darting from his face to Scott's and back to his again. The man seemed to puff up a little, like he was physically psyching himself up to deal with whatever it was they were going to do. John waited, watching, allowing the other man to make the first move.

"I don't know who you're talking about."

"Oh, we believe you do," Scott insisted, moving to flank his brother. He didn't know what John was playing at, he was going against everything they had said they would do, but Scott wasn't about to step in and stop him. This was his brother's fight.

"Oh yeah? Well I'm telling you that I don't, so don't be coming into my place of work shouting your mouth off about things you don't understand," Chris snarled.

John was fast losing patience, something Scott rarely saw from him, although, when it came to Selene John never acted as they expected him to.

"I know that you almost destroyed everything about her, everything that makes her special. You picked and prodded, you systematically put her down over months, years even, of time you spent with her. You bullied her, you told her what to do, how to dress, where to go and who she could be friends with, and when she didn't tow the line you would blame her. You'd push her and shout at her until she believed everything you said, until she was afraid to say or do anything that might displease you."

Chris kept quiet, a nasty grin twisting his face, looking almost proud of everything that John was accusing him off. Isla just looked terrified, hiding behind him either out of fear for what might happen between the men or because she wanted him to forget that she was even there. Scott caught her eyes when she dared to look up, his eyes begging her to listen to them, to believe them. They were there with a very real warning and he could tell that their words were hitting home, having some kind of affect on her. He just hoped it was enough for her to make the smart move to leave and protect herself.

"Selene had to fight so hard to find herself again after you made her believe, with your words and actions, that she was worthless. You took a beautiful, kind, magical woman and you-"

"Magical?" Chris butted in, his mask finally slipping as he gave up all pretense of not knowing what they spoke of in his desire to attack. "Give me a break. That woman was a freak. She was a freak when I met her and she just got worse. I did my best to fix her but some people are just born wrong, they are just born fucked in the head and she was one of them. I couldn't take that stupid bitch anywhere without her showing me up and making a fool out of herself, let alone when she was out with those freak friends of hers."

"Watch yourself," John warned, his tone letting everyone in the vicinity know that he meant business. The murmuring of the diners grew louder and the sound of a couple of pictures being snapped floated over to them. Not that he cared any more. "No one gets to speak about my wife that way."

"Wife," Chris spluttered, a dismissive laugh falling from his wicked mouth. "You fucking idiot. You actually let her trick you into marrying her? You must be into freaks, mate, because you'll never get a moment of peace or normality again. Got money have you? That'll be why, that bitch never worked a day in her life at a proper job, thinking that playing with cards and her voodoo bullshit would pay the bills. Fucking delusional, just like you if you think she's worth your time."

Scott's fists clenched as they witnessed first hand the vileness of the man that had somehow managed to win the love of his best friend. That was typical Selene, to see the best in someone and to have them take advantage of her kind and giving nature. He listened in disbelief as Chris continued to berate his brother and spew his toxic venom, his temper reaching boiling point with each word that fell from the man's flabby fish lips.

John caught him just in time, grabbing Scott's arm and pulling him back before he could launch himself across the counter to reach the man.

"Leave it," John growled, "he's not worth it. You know that scum like him don't deserve our time or attention. We've got her now, we'll look after her."

Scott wanted to argue, he wanted to punch that smirk right off the bastard's face, but this was John's call to make. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, to leash the fury that was riding him.

"Let's go, he's not worth our time," John assured him, not even sparing the other man a glance as he threw some notes down on the table to cover the bill, not wanting Isla to get the brunt of Chris's fury once they had left.

They were almost to the door when they heard the sound of footsteps behind them.

"Just you see how long you last with her," Chris continued to bait, obviously feeling safe now that they were leaving. "A pussy like you won't be able to put up with her for long. When the time comes that you get sick of her, and believe me it'll happen, you can always send her back to me, it takes a real man to handle a bitch like her. You don't have the stones to-"

Chris never saw the fist coming until it smashed into his nose like a hammer. A flurry of activity burst from the dining area as several people stood up, snapping pictures of the incident.

"What the fuck! You crazy arsehole!" Chris shrieked, blood pouring out from between his fingers as he clasped his nose.

John flexed his fingers, shaking out his hand, barely feeling the pain from the impact of them connecting with bone. The man was lucky that was all he'd done. The urge to hit him again was growing harder and harder to ignore. He wanted to rip the man's head off, he wanted to make sure that he could never speak about his wife in such a way again. But his logical side triumphed over his animalistic instincts and he managed to leash his fury enough to force out his next words.

"Never speak about my wife that way again. I'm going to be keeping a close eye on you, and the second you step out of line again, I'll know and I'll rain so much shit down on your head you'll wish you'd never been born."

"You psychotic freak! Just like that bitch! I'm gonna fucking sue the arse off you, Mr Money bags. Then we'll see who's laughing."

"You're welcome to try," Scott scoffed, unconcerned by the threat. Now it was his turn to steer his brother away, continuing their way to the door.

"I'll do it! I'll hunt you down and sue you for every penny you've got. Then you'll see how quickly she comes crawling back to me."

"I think you're forgetting yourself," John warned, his tone cool and calm, although the continuing flexing of his fingers told that he was still debating hitting him again. "The one that should be worried is you. We hit in self defence and, judging by your history and the fact that Christopher is not the name we had for you, I'd say that one more incident like this could end very badly for you. That is your last warning."

"You fucking wait!" Chris screamed as they let the door swing shut behind them, cutting off any chance of him trying to continue baiting and threatening them. "You don't know who you're messing with! I know people, people you've never even dreamed of!"

"What an asshole," Scott raged as they slammed the door of their rental car shut. "He's worse than I ever imagined."

"I can't believe Selene put up with that for so long," John whispered, rage and pain on behalf of his wife still pumping through him. "How she came out of that with any sanity intact is a mystery. I just hope Isla has paid attention and will do the smart thing."

Scott sighed, resting his head back for a moment, calming himself before he started the car and eased out of the space. They drove in silence for a few minutes, just thinking over the encounter and trying to digest the shit that had just happened.

"What if he does try to sue?" John said as a thought struck him.

"He won't get very far," Scott shrugged, unconcerned by the legal ramifications. "Our lawyers will eat him for breakfast before he even gets within sniffing distance of a courtroom. Plus the fact that he is technically an illegal immigrant there, working and living under a false name, that won't bode well for him."

"I don't care about him," John said quietly. "I care about the fact that if he makes any move then Selene will find out that we were here."

"Shit," Scott winced, finally catching up to his brother's train of thought.

"Very much so," John agreed. "I never wanted to hide this from her, not intentionally, but after we got here I realised that she'd probably be better off not knowing, that's why I wanted to leave, but there will be no hiding this from her. I can't lie to her, Scott, I wouldn't dream of it even if she didn't know me as well as she does. This is her past, her history and we got involved and might have potentially brought it to our doorstep."

"It'll be better if she hears it from us," Scott agreed. Much as he hated to admit it, they had overstepped their boundaries in a big way. "I think some of the diners took pictures too. It won't be long before someone figures out who we are."

"We'll tell her when we get back and deal with the consequences."

"She's gonna be so pissed," Scott shuddered, already imagining the wrath of his sister-in-law.

-x-

"Chris, let me help," Isla said, fussing around him brandishing a dish towel to stem the blood still flowing from his nose.

"Don't fucking touch me," Chris growled, grabbing the towel from her and pressing it to his nose as he pushed her roughly out of the way. "If you hadn't have fucked up with the coffee machine yet again I wouldn't have had a go at you like that and those arseholes wouldn't have gotten involved. It's your fault that I've got a fucking broken nose so unless you want one too you had better fuck off back to work and keep out of my way."

"I- I'm sorry," she stuttered, not knowing what else to say. They had a restaurant full of customers that were all staring at her like she was the most pathetic thing in the world and she had to go back and serve them. She'd never be able to look them in the eye.

"You're always fucking sorry, but you never change, do you? You never listen, you never think before you do something, it's not hard to work that machine, yet you manage to screw it up time and time again. How thick are you? No, don't answer that, I can't be doing with any more of your bullshit right now, I've got to make a call."

Without another word he grabbed his phone off the counter and left through the door he'd come through not fifteen minutes before. He stomped his way up the stairs to the little apartment he shared with Isla, slamming the door shut behind him.

"That bitch," he growled, his fist connecting with a nearby wall resulting in a shower of plaster dust. He thought he'd heard the last of her, he'd pushed her from his mind as soon as he heard that she'd given up the house they had shared and moved back in with her parents. She'd always been a waste of his time. The amount of energy he'd put into trying to mould her into a partner that a man could be proud of and how had she repaid him? Chucking him out of the house. Ungrateful bitch.

He knew why she'd done it, why she'd thrown him out once he'd outlived his usefulness. She'd milked him dry for every penny she could get and, once he'd wised up to her bullshit and stopped giving her money she'd moved on.

His face twisted into a sneer, his nose wrinkling, sending a fresh stab of pain through it.

"Fucking arsehole," he growled, repositioning the towel a little more comfortably. Fucking rich boys who thought they could do whatever the fuck they wanted. It was obvious why she'd targeted a brain dead moron like that, someone to keep her in the lifestyle that she had grown accustomed to while sponging off him for so many years.

He flopped down on the worn couch, ignoring the ominous creak it let out. Fucking bitch, no doubt living it up while he was here barely scraping by and now, now he would have to call his boss and explain that his cover, the one that his boss had paid for and he was still currently working off, had been blown. He'd been tracked down, recognised for who he was. The boss wouldn't be happy about that and it was all that fucking bitch's fault.

He hadn't thought about her in years but now he was overcome by curiosity. Maybe if he found out some information on her and the whipped puppy that had apparently been stupid enough to marry her, the boss would go easy on him. Knowledge was power after all and if there was one thing his boss liked it was the trading of knowledge for favours. That was how he'd gotten the offer in the first place, the people he knew and the knowledge he had in exchange for his freedom. He opened his phone and began the search.

She had blocked him on all her social medias the moment they had split up and he'd never cared to look again but now he settled in for what he assumed would be a long virtual stalking spree. He couldn't have been more wrong. A simple search of her name brought up more than he had ever dreamed of. He wasn't just any rich boy she had conned into marriage, he was one oftherichest rich boys in the world and a member of the famed International Rescue to boot. The internet was full of stories of their low key, super secret wedding, the only pictures available being ones the happy couple had uploaded themselves or those shared by one of their exclusive guests.

No wonder they had managed to find him even with all the safeguards the boss had put in place. When the boss made you disappear you stayed gone, whether it was by your own choice or not. There shouldn't have been a paper trail, there shouldn't have been any way that they could have found him, and yet they had. Now it made sense. International Rescue were well known for their advanced technology, everyone had heard stories of the eye in the sky, the secretive, rarely seen Tracy that kept himself closeted away in his space station, answering the calls but hardly ever venturing out into the field. And it seemed that he was the one she had gotten her claws into. That information would hopefully soften the blow when it came to breaking the news to the boss. He couldn't be blamed for this, he had done nothing wrong, nothing to attract unwanted attention or to cause the problem. He'd stuck to his end of the bargain. No, the one to blame here was Selene and the hold she apparently had over the Tracys.

He pulled up a picture of her and her new husband, one that showed them dancing in an opulent ballroom, staring into each other's eyes like nothing else in the world existed. The very sight of it made his blood boil. He didn't care about the bitch, she hadn't even been on his radar, yet now all he could think about was how good she had it. She looked like shit, her eye makeup looked like it had been put on by a depressed clown, her hair was a stupid colour of deep purple that he would never have allowed and her dress was anything but traditional, showing him that she was still as brazen in flying her freak flag as she had been before, maybe even more so.

He flicked to the next picture, showing her laughing at something he had said to her, the action unbalancing the ridiculous hat that perched on her head and all he could think about was how they were probably laughing about him right that moment. He knew her, he could picture it, could see her simpering at her new lackeys telling them made up stories about how evil he had been to her, getting all their sympathy, winding them up and blowing everything out of all proportion to sound worse than it was until they were convinced he was the bad guy. She'd have begged them to find him, sending her husband and one of his many brothers to track him down and fight her corner. Well they would be in for a rude awakening. They knew nothing about him, they didn't know the man he had become and the shit that he was capable of.

He searched out more pictures, more reports on her and her antics with the Tracys, seeing the way she had wormed her way in, inserting herself deeply into their lives, so much so that she was now working with them. He found pictures of her at danger zones, dressed in a ridiculous outfit that didn't flatter her in the slightest. She'd grown even fatter than she had been when he had left, all his efforts to get her into shape for nothing. She really was a waste of space. She'd never change.

Suitably riled he used that anger as motivation to make the call that he had been dreading, one never called the boss without a reason and that reason had better be a good one. To be reporting something like he was, well that was verging on foolishness if it was your fault.

He shouldn't really have a reason to be scared and he hated that he was. He knew that he was useful, he knew that he did his job to the best of his ability and did it well. The business was flourishing, the restaurant the perfect cover for the deals that happened at night. He'd worked too hard forging contacts, employing dealers and engineering channels in which to funnel the funds in and out again in a relatively short space of time. He'd cemented his reputation within the little country, building up his power base while still leaving the authorities none the wiser. He was a big fish in the relatively small pond and no one would dare to take him on.

He was safe, he knew he was, yet his hands still shook, just a tiny bit as he dialed in the number that he'd memorised, not being allowed to add it as a contact to his phone.

The phone rang twice before it was answered, with the same mechanical voice as always, disguising that of the boss.

"Christopher," the voice drawled, " is there a problem?"