A/N: I'm not looking forward to tomorrow. Tomorrow's gonna suck.

Again, if you have any questions about the trilogy that you'd like answered, feel free to ask 'em.

---

It was a very rainy, very disgusting day in Prague. The taxicab drove through the wet streets towards Riverside International School with its seventeen-year-old, sharply dressed passenger sitting professionally in the back, a leather Hartmann briefcase across his lap with his hands placed firmly upon it. Every time the driver checked the rear-view mirror, the boy's blue eyes would flash up dangerously, so he quickly decided it to be a better idea to just keep his eyes on the road. When he got the call from dispatch to pick the boy up from his apartment on the edge of the city, he'd been warned that this was no normal student, and the location of his apartment attested to that: it was nestled neatly above the country's headquarters of the Swiss organisation World Society.

'Prosim zastavte tady.'

The driver looked confused and glanced around the streets. No one was in the area and the rain was still pouring. 'Nerozumim…'

'What is there to understand? Stop right here,' Jackson said harshly, throwing a fistful of koruna into the front seat as the man slammed on the brakes.

As Jackson stepped out of the vehicle, he popped open an umbrella and walked to the sidewalk along U statni drahy, watching carefully from behind his glasses as the taxi pulled away before walking into a small alley between two buildings. Sitting under a metal awning was a blind older man—Jackson wasted no time and walked directly to him. He bent down slowly, his wool coat brushing against his stubbly chin as he spoke smoothly.

'Ahoj, kmet,' he said with a smile, and the man gave him a toothless grin.

'Jackson,' the man said, reaching up to feel the younger man's face. 'You have the documents?'

'I used the information you gave me,' he replied, setting his briefcase on the table at which the old man sat. He pulled off his hat and placed it next to the case. 'And was able to plan the entire operation in two weeks.'

The old man laughed. 'You're a once in a lifetime catch, my boy.'

Both of them looked up at the door behind the old man as a young woman stepped out carrying a tray with three teacups. Her dark hair was tied back in a loose ponytail and because she was wearing no makeup, her freckles were very noticeable. She flickered a look at Jackson before leaning down and kissing the old man on top of his head.

'Boy, you've met my stepdaughter, yes?'

'Of course,' Jackson said, reaching out to take her hand in his own. He pressed a light kiss atop her knuckles. 'Professor Melinyshyn, it's always a pleasure.'

She gave him a dark little smile but didn't reply verbally. Her attention was turned to Jackson's briefcase, which still laid unopened on the table's surface next to the steaming cups. Without a question, she reached over and snapped open the latches, revealing a thick manila file. She took it into her hands and opened it slowly, taking in the information on the page silently as Jackson handed one of the teacups to her stepfather.

'Very good,' she muttered, her Czech immensely less accented than her English. 'You've spoken to Adani about this?'

Jackson nodded. 'He's assuring our scapegoat is at the Square following the rally. He'll pick you up from the Tel Aviv airport the night before.'

Flipping through a few pages, she smiled. 'How quaint! A semi-automatic pistol!'

Jackson smiled at her from behind his teacup. 'I thought you'd like that.'

'And Adani has everything set up on his end?'

'I confirmed everything this morning before I left my apartment,' Jackson said, reaching over to close the top of his briefcase. 'The weapon, the scapegoat, the hospital arrangements.'

'My plane tickets?' she asked, her lips puckering as she spoke.

'Melissa will be by later with them,' he replied before downing the last of his tea. 'She has your tickets and your identity all set up.'

'Look how these children handle everything, Lyna,' the old man said, holding his teacup shakily. 'Our Jackson here is only seventeen, and yet he's already a man, doing men's work!'

Lyna set down the file and picked up her teacup with a playful look on her face. 'Indeed he is a man, Tata.'

Setting down his teacup carefully, Jackson gave a smouldering look to Lyna, one that she returned. 'I best be on my way before Melissa gets here. It was good to see you again, Mr Ruzicka, Professor Melinyshyn.'

He closed the snaps on his briefcase before taking it up in his hand and walking back into the rain. It pitter-pattered on his umbrella as he made his way out to a different road, turning to the right as soon as he left the alley. Just as he turned, he came face to face with Melissa, who shoved him into a storefront window. Her face was red and it looked like she'd been crying. She didn't have an umbrella with her, so her hair was plastered to her head and her blouse was stuck to her skin. As an awkward peace offering, Jackson held the umbrella over her head, but she just ripped it from his hand and threw it onto the sidewalk.

'What did I tell you when we got to Prague?' she asked harshly, pressing her body close to his, breathing little white puffs of air in his face. 'What did I say?'

Jackson smiled, looking intently in her brown eyes. 'Peach, what is this—'

Her face didn't change, but an instant later, her fist connected harshly with his stomach and he curled a little, coughing. 'What did I tell you about her?'

Jackson looked up at her angrily, trying to catch his breath. 'That's what this is about?'

She gritted her teeth. 'She will rip your heart out and eat it with her afternoon tea.'

He rolled his eyes. 'Jealous much?'

She stared at him for a moment before laughing loudly. 'Jealous? Jealous? God, you're so fucking cocky!'

They were quiet as a couple of people passed by, and then Melissa snapped her head as though she'd heard something. She slid back from him smoothly just before the dark-haired Ukrainian woman came out from the alley, a hat held primly between pale hands.

'Jackson, ty…' she started, and then gave a devious look to Melissa before switching over to English. 'Ah, Melissa. What a surprise to see you here today.'

'Professor,' she forced before digging in her twill tote bag. 'I brought my assignment for you to look over. I hope it's to your liking.'

'I am sure it will be,' Lyna said, taking the manila envelope that Melissa held out for her. 'Jackson, I will see you tonight for our tutoring session?'

'Jacks and I already have plans tonight, don't we?' Melissa responded quickly, grabbing Jackson's hand and giving him a dangerous look.

He looked between the two women before Melissa's nails dug into his skin. 'We'll have to reschedule, Professor Melinyshyn. I completely forgot that Melissa and I are going to Berlin for the break, and I know you'll be out of town all of next week. Perhaps next Friday?'

Lyna gave them a smile that expressed her complete and utter hate of the tall redhead that stood next to Jackson. 'Next Friday then.'

Melissa held him in place as Lyna handed him the hat that he'd left on the table. The Ukrainian gave him a kiss on each cheek before backing up and disappearing into the alley once more. Once she'd gone, Melissa grabbed up his umbrella, shoved it into his chest, and then grabbed his hand again, dragging him after her as she made her way to the Metro station.

---

Six hours later, Melissa was glaring at Jackson over a glass of dark ale at a small bar between the Hackescher Markt S-Bahn station and the Neue Synagogue. Off in the distance, the Berliner Fernsehturm was glowing dimly from the bottom of its silvery sphere of a top, at that was all that Jackson could focus on. Melissa reached across the table to put her hand over Jackson's, narrowing her eyes at him as she did so.

'You have to listen to me,' she said quietly, not wanting to attract the attention of the people around them. 'Keep the relationship with Vasylyna Melinyshyn purely professional.'

'Why does it even matter to you?' he hissed, abandoning the Fernsehturm and leaning towards her.

'Trust me, you don't want anything to do with her,' said Melissa, tipping her head and enunciating every word. 'She has a certain reputation.'

'Oh big damn deal, she has a reputation,' he replied, rolling his eyes. 'We all have reputations or we wouldn't be in this business.'

She raised her hands and mocked like she was strangling him. 'You're! So! Aggravating!'

He looked pleased with himself.

'Wipe that damn look off your face,' she said, sulking. 'I'm just gonna put it out there: Vasylyna has been in the business for almost ten years now and she's been a damn good employee. She hasn't missed a single mark. But—and this is very important—she's a filthy whore.'

Jackson stared at her wide eyes. 'And?'

'Whores aren't good, Jackson,' she said as though she were speaking to a kindergartener. 'She's just going to use you for sex, give you some horrible disease, and then break your heart.'

'Mel, Mel… Peach…' he murmured, reaching out to take both of her hands carefully into his. 'Have you ever considered that I'm just using her for sex?'

'Ew, Jackson!' she said, recoiling from his touch. 'Don't try to out-sex the master. She'll always be a step ahead of you.'

'There are people who are important to me like you, Sharena and Dr Greene,' he said, stretching across the table to take her hands again. 'Then there are people who I pretend are important like my ex-girlfriends and Vasylyna. Well, and basically everyone else.'

She looked him straight in the eyes, squeezing his hands. 'This is a bad idea.'

---

Despite Melissa's ministrations, Jackson awoke the next Saturday morning smelling of sex and the lingering scent of Lyna's perfume. He turned over in the bed, rubbing a hand over his forehead before walking stark naked to his kitchen to drink some cold coffee from when Lyna had left much earlier.

'I have to know—is it like having sex with your sister?'

Jackson spit out the coffee all over the counter and grabbed a dinner plate to offer himself a modicum of decency before turning to look at Melissa. 'Knock?'

'Or is it like having sex with yourself?' she continued, mostly ignoring him as she looked through his cabinets. ''Cause, you know, you seem like the kind of guy who would like to have sex with himself. God, she must not even buy you groceries. What do you eat around here?'

'I go out,' he answered shortly. 'What do you want?'

Turning quickly, she flung a manila envelope at his feet. 'Congratulations on the successful first management. You've been given a new assignment!'

She did little jazz hands before opening another cabinet and digging through his assortment of stale cereal. With her incapacitated, Jackson bent down and picked up the envelope. After putting on an apron, which made Melissa snort, he opened the container and dumped on the contents on the kitchen counter.

'Eric Hebborn,' Jackson said quietly, looking over the profile of the target.

'He's a—' Melissa started, spitting little oat flakes all over the floor.

'I know who he is,' he growled, flipping through the information. 'In Rome. This shouldn't be difficult at all.'

'It's gotta be different than your last,' she said, putting up the cereal box. 'You can't just go around shooting everybody.'

'I'm the manager here, thanks,' he said, closing the document. 'I've never even shot a gun at someone before. I'd prefer it if Lyna just bashed him over the head with a bat.'

'She'd like it too,' Melissa replied, jumping up to sit on the counter before speaking in a conspiratorial tone. 'I hear she drinks the blood of the freshly killed to retain her youthful looks.'

'For the love of…' he said, giving her an exasperated look. 'Will you just stop it?'

'No,' she replied honestly, leaning forward with her lips puckered.

His eyes went from her to the packet in his hands. 'When I know what I need, I'll call you. Until then…'

He was going to say something scathing, but when he looked back at her, he suddenly realised that at this point in time, she was his only friend on the entire continent. Swallowing his pride, he just gave her a rather bored look.

'I'll see you at school on Monday.'

She rolled her eyes before jumping down off of the counter and walking across the room to the front door of Jackson's apartment. He followed close on her heels (still wearing the apron, to his great embarrassment) and watched her from the door as she started walking down the stairs to the World Society headquarters below his apartment.

'Peach, wait,' he said, and she looked back expectantly. 'Wh—what was our Calculus homework?'

She gave him an icy look before speaking tersely. 'Page 259, problems 2 through 98, even.'

'Thanks,' he said lamely, but she just turned around and continued, slamming the door behind her very loudly when she got out of the stairwell.