A/N: Hey, I'm back again. (After my longest interval yet, but on the bright side I got quite a bit done on this story during that time.) Yes, we're still on setting up all the circumstances for the plot, but we're getting closer to things actually happening, I promise.

Hope you enjoy it, and see you at the end! :J

Chapter 8: Unnecessary Risks

"So how did it go?"

That was the first annoying question out of Foaly's mouth the moment Holly entered the operations booth. Holly decided to do the polite thing and ignore it.

"I need a rundown on the details for this mission," she said. "And I need gear."

"Naturally, naturally." The centaur glanced back at her with a mischievous gleam in his eye. However, when he turned back to his computer he was back to LEP-business mode.

"Right then. These are the sites of the attacks." Foaly tapped a key and a grid map appeared on the nearest screen, along with a collection of blue dots. "Based on the computer's calculations, these rogue fairies are, to the best of our knowledge, somewhere around here." He hit another key and several large red circles appeared on the map, like glowing targets in an LEP firing range.

"Looks like they're spending most of their time in Dublin," Holly observed. "That's what Trouble said."

Foaly nodded. "They have the technology to go almost anywhere, but as near as we can tell, they've been staying put. Could be because they just want to stay in Ireland; there's no place with a higher concentration of magical hotspots. Or it could be..." But he seemed to second guess what he was about to say.

"Anyway," he said quickly, "I'm supposed to impress on you just what a major threat to Lower Elements security this is. The Council wants this situation in the closed-case file before the weekend crunchball match, so the message to all operatives is 'Be ready to do what you have to do.'"

Holly shot Foaly a hard look. "Meaning the Council doesn't care if these fairies are brought in dead or alive," she said flatly. "Funny, for how much they all complain about the Mud People, the moment they get a bit panicked they're pretty quick to start dishing out Mud Man-type orders."

Foaly shrugged. "Maybe. But to be fair, our goblin and demon friends haven't been too well behaved themselves."

Holly didn't answer. He had a point: these fairies were murderers, and if not dealt with quickly, many more humans would meet an unpleasant premature end. However, she still didn't care for the Council's way of doing things. The LEP existed to protect the People from the Mud Men, not to go around assassinating fellow fairies. But that was the Council for you, all about upholding cultural values and ancient sacred beliefs during campaign speeches, miserly and coldly pragmatic when it came time to take action.

The Council can follow its own conscience, she thought. And I'll follow mine.

Holly turned and picked a gun off the equipment table to examine it. She'd only just turned her eyes to the power settings when Foaly spoke up, introducing an unrelated topic out of the blue again. "So, about your little outing last night. How was that, by the way? Anything interesting happen?"

Holly kept her eyes glued to the gun and prayed for patience. "Hey, Foaly. Is this the latest Neutrino model?"

"It certainly is." Foaly was so delighted he momentarily forgot about trying to pry his way into her personal affairs. "I call it the Neutrino Shield. More power settings for more control, and some neat little improvements to the laser cutter. But the best part's the built-in Safetynet. It's a gun, but it can also double as cover if you get in a tight spot and don't have time to go for your belt. Course, there are still a few minor bugs to work out, so it's not ready for use in the field just yet, but I think she's my best to date."

Holly nodded slowly. "You know that feature where the gun is coded to me and I'm the only one who can fire it?"

Foaly sniffed, and his tail twitched with irritation. "That one's only on the early versions of the 3000 model. When I joined up at Section 8, Commander Vinyáya ordered it taken off. Apparently, officers were getting snippy about not being able to fire their partner's blasters in critical situations. I was only trying to save them a heap of trouble with IA, but did I get a scrap of thanks? No. See if I try to do anything nice ever again."

"Well, that's good then," Holly said, setting the Neutrino Shield back on the worktable. "I was going to say the same thing."

Foaly's mouth turned downward and drew into a pucker. "Out of all the smart-mouthed Recon jocks we have in this department, sometimes I think you're the worst. I'd probably never forgive you for that, but as I've said, I've mellowed since the old days."

At this, Foaly paused, and his scowl slowly shifted back to a smile. "But, speaking of mellowing, that reminds me. Wasn't there something you were going to tell me? Something about our favorite commander, and an evening rendezvous last night?"

Holly rubbed her temples where she could feel a headache forming.

"Sorry, Foaly, I've got a date on the surface with three out-of-control demons and a goblin." Holly located a more familiar Neutrino 3000 on an equipment rack nearby and slid it into the holster at her hip. "We'll have to talk later."

Foaly smirked. "Fine by me, Captain. We'll have plenty of time once you're in the sky."

Holly turned toward the door so he wouldn't see her grimace.

When Holly reached the surface, she activated her wings and shot up into the sky. She quickly adjusted her helmet filter with a series of blinks, then breathed deeply, taking in the cool, fresh air. It was early evening and the sun would be dipping down past the horizon soon, setting the sky ablaze in an array of oranges and reds, but for now her eyes swept over the deep green of the miles upon miles of forest stretching out below.

She sighed a little when Foaly's voice cut into her immersion in the glories of fantastic surface vistas.

"So, Trouble—I mean Commander Kelp," he began, as though there had been no interruption.

"The use of military channels for personal conversations is against protocol," Holly informed him, in a tone not unlike that of a snooty hall monitor.

Foaly feigned shock. "So you do know what the rules are, you just pretend not to."

Holly ignored him. "What weapons are these runaways expected to have?"

"Funny thing. We didn't get any actual footage of their little field trip to the surface, so we're relying on eye-witness accounts, and so far they've all unanimously sworn our culprits were dressed in civilian clothes, no weapons. But our officer who ran into the goblin said the blëber was wearing a jumpsuit with plenty of hidden goodies—just as high-tech as any standard LEP-issue equipment. Which means this particular band of thugs is being backed by someone with extensive technological expertise and gold to burn."

Trouble had already told her a lot of this, and Holly's response was the same as before. "Opal Koboi," she said immediately.

Foaly sighed with exasperation. "Holly, we sent Opal back where she came from. Unless she's beaming her negative vibes from the past, or the Opal from our time is running things from her prison cell without our noticing..."

Holly was glad Foaly couldn't see her face, because her mouth twisted into a frown as she noticed that the conversation was turning in the exact same direction as the one with Trouble the previous night. However, she didn't want to get into another argument just now, so she made her voice as breezy as she could and said, "Just a suggestion. You're probably right, but I thought we should just cover all the bases. You know."

"Sure," Foaly muttered, unconvinced. Holly expected him to roll his eyes and go off on his usual speech about what he dubbed her 'Opal Koboi paranoia complex,' which she always found particularly insulting coming from a hyper-paranoid former rival of the now defunct Koboi Laboratories. However, after one final sigh, Foaly apparently decided to take the conversation back to the first topic, much to her chagrin.

"Well, never mind that then," he said. "I think I can speak for all of us when I say theories about Opal Koboi and a rogue goblin can't hold a candle to a bit of good, old-fashioned romance. Am I right? And right now, there's one story I'm still waiting to hear."

Holly was seriously beginning to wish a flare would rise up about now and block their communications. "Foaly, can I ask you a question?"

"You just did, but I'm listening."

"Are you this annoying on purpose, or is it just a gift?"

"A little of both," Foaly said smugly. "So Caballine says."

Holly sighed deeply, suddenly feeling more tired than irritated. She was losing this conversation and she knew it. Holly didn't answer, and instead focused her gaze on the horizon in the distance as she flew. For a full minute, they were both silent.

As though reading Holly's thoughts, at last Foaly suggested in a soothing voice, "You could just tell me, you know. It'd save us both a lot of grief."

"What makes you think there's even something to tell?" Holly asked. "We decide to do things once in a while, just so we don't get so wrapped up in the LEP we forget we're supposed to be friends. That's all there is to it. Nothing out of the ordinary ever happens."

"Uh huh," Foaly drawled. "And Nº1 hates the color pink."

Holly paused, and it occurred to her then that Foaly was almost too set on this subject. Foaly often prodded her in passing to tell him more about what she did with Commander Kelp, but he didn't resort to extended interrogation tactics. His ADD didn't typically allow for it. But the way he was acting, he must somehow already have an inkling of the content of her talk with Trouble the previous night.

Holly knew then that she was not going to get out of this conversation. Centaurs were notoriously stubborn, and Foaly was possibly the most stubborn centaur she had ever met. If he wasn't satisfied, she'd never have another moment's peace.

Feeling distinctly that she had lost a battle, Holly heaved a dramatic sigh through the speakers in her helmet. Almost belligerently, she said, "Okay, fine then, if you're so desperate for gossip. I suppose—I suppose he might have asked me if I'd consider being his girlfriend. That enough to satisfy that long nose of yours? Don't get it caught in the door on your way out."

Foaly wisely chose not to gloat. "Hmm, I see. And judging from the grouchy expressions on both your faces when you checked into work this morning, I guess it's fairly obvious how that went."

Foaly's lack of surprise didn't take Holly offguard in the slightest, but she still found it obnoxious. "All that begging for me to tell you, and that's your response? I'd almost think you knew all along, but I know you would never be so vindictive to an old friend."

"Of course not," Foaly said with solemnity, but Holly could just imagine his grin. He went on eagerly, "Well, that's about all we need, I think. I should be able to piece together the course of events from there. First, he trots out his 'I'd like us to be something more' line, right? You sit there stunned a couple seconds, then come back, 'You can't possibly be serious. What kind of sick joke is this?' Like he's just thrown the biggest insult in the world in your face. Of course, he doesn't take that too well, probably tells you you're totally overreacting and taking it the wrong way. Makes some comment about female elves. Next thing you know, you're dumping champagne on his head and knocking over plates, and he's telling you you're an overemotional female, and you storm out of there in a state, outraged on behalf of the entire female population. Am I getting warm there, Holly?"

Holly was silent.

Foaly could hardly suppress his self-satisfaction. "Oh, don't feel bad. You being you, it was bound to happen."

Holly let out an annoyed sigh. "Oh shut up. That's not even close." She hesitated a moment, then, deciding to throw all caution to the winds, she added confidentially, "Actually, to be honest, he was pretty thoughtful. Especially for him. He didn't act like a moron and make it out to be half a joke, I have to give him credit for that. And he told me that I should consider it an open offer. He'd wait around."

"He's holding off and giving you time to come around on your own?" Foaly said in surprise. "Trouble? This is our Trouble we're talking about, I suppose. Well, I knew that was what he intended, but I don't think anyone short of an alien from another planet would have believed it." He paused. "Showing patience. He must really like you a lot, Holly."

Holly felt a stab of guilt in her gut, and she didn't say anything for a moment. But suddenly she frowned.

"What, you're going to try to make me believe he's been confiding in you? Oh, that explains a lot. And here I thought your general surveillance and intelligence gathering had reached a new level of shamelessness." As she thought about it some more, and started imagining how Foaly might have actually obtained some of his information, she felt suddenly queasy. "Just what exactly have you been doing, Foaly?" she demanded. "Intercepting private emails? Hacking into his journal? Paying off Grub as an informant?"

Foaly snickered. "You really think Commander Trouble Kelp keeps a journal about his feelings for you?"

Holly felt her face burn. "Journals aren't the point, Foaly. I know you want to know everything, but using your gadgets to spy on people's private lives is just sick. It's bad enough you still keep tabs on Fowl Manor after you promised to pull surveillance."

"Fowl Manor is a matter of security," Foaly said without apology. "I wouldn't be doing my job as technical consultant if I didn't keep an eye on things." He paused, then added, "And don't get so bent out of shape about the commander. Everything I know comes straight from the horse's mouth, to use the distasteful human saying. I don't need any fancy equipment to keep up with what's going on with you two, because as it happens, lately Commander Kelp's been coming to me for a bit of...romantic advice."

Holly relaxed, and was immediately sorry she'd jumped to such a conclusion. She was almost starting to sound as paranoid and cynical of others as Atlantis-Complex Artemis. However, she couldn't suppress a snort.

"Romantic advice? You? He might have better luck talking to a stinkworm."

Foaly was miffed. "Laugh all you want, Holly, but in case you've forgotten, I'm the one sitting pretty with a lovely lady back home. I'd say that makes yours truly the authority here."

But Holly continued to chortle nonetheless, oblivious to Foaly's indignation, and she realized she felt better, now that she had told Foaly the truth, or part of it. She used to talk a lot more to her friends, both as a young elf in school and as a rookie in the Academy, about anything and everything. Now she was so used to keeping secrets, disciplining herself so as to keep her thoughts locked firmly inside her head, it was hard to go back even a little.

Holly got to fly a minute in silence before Foaly said, "So, what did you get into a fight about then?"

"Who says we fought about anything?"

It was Foaly's turn to snort. "I hate to break this to you now, but what's going through both your heads is generally written on your faces, plain as day. It's like reading See Jane Run."

"It's a wonder you ever bother asking me questions at all then," said Holly, irked by his condescending tone. "And I can see the temporary base of operations site now. Sorry, Foaly, we'll have to finish this conversation later."

She quickly shut off her communications despite his protests and prepared to land as she went to open the channel with Major Evergreen.

Holly breathed a slight sigh of relief. Naturally, she had no intention of disclosing to him the full content of their conversation, no matter how much he wheedled and begged, and she hoped Trouble would have the sense to do the same. It wasn't that she thought Foaly would blab it to the world—she knew the gossipy centaur could keep his mouth shut if he put his mind to it, even if he often chose not to—rather, she didn't know which side of the argument he would come down on. When it came to Foaly's opinion about Artemis Fowl, he always tended to fall somewhere in between her and Trouble. He regarded Artemis as a friend to the People overall, but, being his usual paranoid self, by no means trusted that the human wasn't acting on some personal agenda most of the time. And Holly definitely wasn't in the mood to get chewed out for being stupid enough to get into an argument about Artemis Fowl of all people during a date.

"Captain Short? This is Major Evergreen."

Holly blinked, coming back to reality. "This is Captain Short," she responded in clipped tones.

"Good. Set down around at the front and wait to receive the entrance code."

"Understood, sir."

"Good, Captain. Over and out."

Holly's gaze flickered to the ground, and she set her wings for a steep dive.

From the air, the hideout looked like little more than a small clearing among a grove of frost-covered trees. In fact, the only way Holly knew the hideout was there at all was the blinking red light on a grid map in her visor.

However, when she touched her boots to the ground she was finally close enough to see that the place was not actually shielded as a shuttle would be, but simply camouflaged with its surroundings. It must have been a newer model of one of Foaly's cham pods, though unlike the uncomfortable, claustrophobic pod she and Artemis had used back in the souk during their unpleasant mission to the past, this one looked big enough to serve as temporary living quarters for twenty fairies or more.

Holly switched the filter on her helmet so she could see the hideout more clearly, and a virtual number pad seemed to appear in midair next to the hatch. Numbers flashed in her visor as she received the major's secure message and Holly quickly keyed in the code. The door slid aside, and when Holly stepped over the threshold, the door settled back into place behind her with a pneumatic hiss.

Holly waited in the dark a moment before the pale ceiling lights flickered on, activated by her presence. She blinked as her eyes adjusted, and she saw she was in a storage locker of some kind, with extra jumpsuits hanging up in rows and dozens of Neutrino handguns and DNA rifles lining corroded metal racks. The entrance seemed a strange place to store weapons and other equipment, even a security hazard, but Holly supposed they were probably short on space, no matter how impressive the hideout appeared to be from the outside. With the usual LEP budget, cramped surroundings were simply an ever-present reality.

At the back of the antechamber Holly found a doorway which led to a short, narrow corridor, which ended with another door. When Holly reached the opposite side, the door slid open automatically, revealing a fairly spacious room.

The corners of this room had also been crammed with still more equipment, various weapons and standard-issue field packs, all but the far corner, where sat a desk not unlike the one in Commander Kelp's office back in Haven. Behind it sat a single fairy hard at work, a pair of V-goggles clamped over his eyes as he scribbled something seemingly in midair, no doubt grinding through the fairy equivalent of paperwork.

The fairy behind the desk had the look of typical LEP military stock. Strongly built, square jaw and broad chest, with hair the usual military-style crew cut. The expression on his face at the moment was disciplined and focused, though his exhaustion was detectable in the dark circles beneath his eyes. After a moment, he shifted his attention to Holly, who stood at rigid attention before the desk.

"Ah, Captain Short," said Major Evergreen. "You have already been briefed on the situation, I take it."

"Yessir. I received an overview, sir."

"Meaning, then, that I need to give you a rundown on the specifics of where we're currently at." The major unclipped the V-goggles, which were an older, less sheik model of those Holly saw in use in LEP Headquarters and businesses around Haven these days. The V-goggles the major wore were round and large, like old plastic diver's goggles, sporting a thick strap that went all the way around his head, while newer V-goggles more closely resembled tinted safety glasses. As far as Holly knew, the old models worked just as well as the new, but many of the younger incoming techies had point-blank refused to wear them. The retro look was not in vogue at the moment.

However, perhaps the major, like Foaly, preferred the more old-fashioned look. Major Evergreen wasn't a very old fairy, probably not much older than Trouble, but some younger fairies just liked clunkier styles. Holly couldn't help but notice there was something in the type of formality he used and the quality of his voice that somehow made the major sound older than he was. In fact, strange as it was, for a second the timbre of his voice made Holly think of Commander Root.

"Right," said the major. "The only thing I really have to tell you, Captain, is that there isn't much to tell, besides the fact there are four fairies running amok up here on a killing spree, and so far they've outwitted us at every turn. We're looking to settle things first chance we get, but for that to happen, what we need is a spark of inspiration here. A little creativity to come up with a solid strategy." He gave her a sideways look. "Fortunately for us, from what I hear, Captain, creative thinking is your specialty."

Holly didn't think the major was looking for a response to that, so she didn't say anything.

The major tapped something into his wrist computer. "I'm transmitting the coordinates of your assigned sector to you now, Captain."

"Yessir."

"Your sleeping quarters will be in there." He gestured to a door off to the side. "They want operatives on the surface around the clock until this matter is taken care of, so everyone under me will be doing double shifts."

"Yessir."

The major was silent then. Holly stood quietly, waiting to be dismissed, but instead the major simply looked up at her, expression almost thoughtful.

"I'm not sure you know this, Captain," he said slowly, in a very different tone, "but I believe I may owe you a very great debt."

"A debt, sir?" Holly tried not to let her confusion and skepticism show, but she was fairly certain she had never met the major before today.

"Yes," he continued. "It isn't common knowledge, but I suffered an...accident a few years back, where I lost almost all of my memory. I couldn't have even told you my own name. I went through a great deal of rehabilitation, but I was never able to bring much of it back. However, I did discover that I had retained all the physical skills and know-how from my work with the LEP, even though I couldn't remember learning it."

Holly didn't know what to say. The only commanding officer Holly could remember telling her about his own personal history was Commander Root, when he was trying to convince her to consider taking a promotion to major. But that had been after working under him for almost a decade, suffering practically non-stop verbal abuse, and at the time it had felt like she'd earned learning a little more about him. She felt taken aback at this sudden confidence, even a little embarrassed.

Holly remained silent and chose not to respond for the moment.

"But that's all irrelevant," he said, waving a dismissive hand as though sensing Holly's feelings. "The point is, I suppose you could say I lost my memory under what you'd call mysterious circumstances. By any chance, do you remember your initiation, that final field test which first allowed you into LEPrecon and earned you your captain's acorns?"

Holly gave one slow, uncertain nod. That was one examination Holly would never forget. From the beginning, Commander Root's brother Turnball and his henchmen had been there waiting for them. They had taken Trouble captive and set her out as bait, so that Turnball could take his revenge.

"Yes, you probably recall what a disaster that was," Major Evergreen went on. "However, there is some question as to how the convict Turnball Root knew exactly where Commander Root meant to hold your exam, because only a major would have had access to that information. Yes, I can see you've guessed where this is going. My losing my memory coincided very closely to the incident on the Tern Islands, so many have suspected that it may have been I who leaked the location. And it was largely thanks to your efforts that the death of the commander and total catastrophe were averted, so I would say I owe you for correcting that mistake."

The major's smile was grim. "Naturally, you are probably wondering how I managed to retain my post after such a blunder. Many were in favor of my instant dismissal or at the very least demotion. However...Commander Root fought very hard on my behalf. So, thanks to him, after my recovery and subsequent lengthy rehabilitation I was re-instated. You should know, Captain, I thought—no, think—very highly of the former commander. The both of you have my deepest gratitude, though I would understand if, after hearing what I may have inadvertently contributed to putting you through, you resented me."

So that's it, Holly thought. However, she was still uncomfortable. She didn't want to be treated with special consideration for something that had happened so long ago, especially when she had not even done it for the sake of the fairy in question anyway.

"No resentment, sir," Holly said finally. "You said yourself the details are unclear."

"You really are very kind, Captain Short," said the major. Then his face changed, reassuming the formal, impersonal air of before. As though reading her mind, in a more clipped, official tone, he added, "But don't think for a moment any of this means you can get away with whatever you like on my watch. I expect nothing less than the utmost discipline and respect from all my officers. I've heard you have a tendency to shirk commands now and again—Not here. Commander Root and Commander Kelp may have let you have full run of the place, but here I expect every last one of my orders to be obeyed. Understood?"

"Yessir." Holly stood a bit straighter. "Thank you, sir."

Evergreen frowned, a flicker of annoyance passing across his weathered features. Holly wondered for a moment if she had misspoken before he went on, "Oh, and there was one particular bit of information I was charged to extract from you. Feel perfectly free to be disgusted, I'm not too far from it myself, but I've been about pestered to death and if I don't ask, they will." He sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead. "When the rest of the squad discovered you were to be put on this detail, they were clamoring to know whether the rumors concerning yourself and our excellent commander are to be believed."

I just can't get away, Holly thought crossly, incredulous. However, she kept her expression neutral. "Rumors, sir?"

Major Evergreen rolled his eyes. "Well, to be more precise, I suppose the fools are wanting to know the status of your availability."

Holly suddenly hoped the major would have the kindness to send her out solo. She didn't need another Chix Verbil-partner experience.

Holly said a bit curtly, "The commander and I are not in a relationship, and I am not available. Sir."

Despite the major's apparent disdain for his officers' lack of discretion or professionalism, at this apparently even he couldn't resist sneaking in a remark. "So there's someone else then." He was smiling, and had suddenly taken on the air of a teasing parent. Holly wondered uncharitably if in his accident the major had been left with more head problems than he'd like her to believe.

"A sleek ship of the fastest model with a whisper engine and hair-sensitive controls is more my type, sir," she answered.

Despite her insubordinate tone, Major Evergreen laughed out loud at that. There was a crinkling about his eyes and Holly suddenly realized that his eyes were almost precisely the same shade of mud brown as Julius's had been. However, contrarily, there was something about his smile that made him look oddly gentle and, despite his youth, even fatherly—about as completely opposite from Commander Root as he could get.

"A soldier after my own heart then," he said. He reached up and snapped his V-goggles back on and returned his eyes to his invisible screen. "Don't worry, Captain Short, I'll make them behave themselves so that you may do your job without interference. You are hereby assigned to Unit 4. Make your way there immediately."

"Yessir," said Holly, though she had an irresistibly sinking feeling as she turned and strode from the room.

Meanwhile, miles upon miles away in the lower-end section of Dublin city, a man of roughly twenty to twenty-five was traversing the sidewalk beside a graffiti-smothered wall.

The stifling darkness of winter evening had already fallen, the creeping shadows cast by rubbish bins and bits of trash in the light of flickering street lamps settling in every nook and cranny. Although this particular part of the city was not the wisest place for a leisurely stroll, the man did not show any sign of discomfort or anxiety. With his bulging muscles, dark sunglasses, and silver rings through his nose, perhaps he rightly felt he was an unlikely target for an attack. However, the large dreamy smile plastered across his face and the plastic grocery bag swinging jauntily at his side seemed slightly out of place.

The man strode into a crumbling, thoroughly derelict building, so old and rundown that the lead paint had long ago begun to peel, exposing sizable portions of concrete wall. Oblivious to his surroundings, he hummed merrily to himself as he wandered through the halls until he came to a bare section of wall. He stood there a moment, appearing to think, then tapped four times, knocked twice, and tapped once more.

The man waited patiently, unmoving. About a minute later a rasping voice answered from within the wall.

"What is it?"

"It's your man Doug," he said cheerfully. Doug went on in an almost sing-song voice, "Think I might got something you want, dude."

There was a moment of silence. Then the hidden door swung inward a few inches, creaking on its hinges.

In the darkness only just visible was the silhouette of a small figure, less than four feet tall. The angles of a sharp, draconian head reflected a dark green where the shafts of light from the moon outside hit, and chiseled, muscular arms and legs strained against the midnight black jumpsuit. Two gleaming yellow eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, each one occasionally obscured as a long tongue darted out to lick them.

"Here you go," said the man happily, thrusting out the plastic grocery bag. "Enjoy yourself."

The creature extended one clawed hand through the opening and withdrew with the object into the shadows. "You have our thanks," said the rasping voice again. "I will contact you if we require anything else."

The man smiled brightly, but then frowned a little a moment later. He removed his sunglasses, then beamed all the more as he realized how much better he could see.

"Thanks for letting me do this for you, boss. It's a real privilege, being your go-fer." He spoke completely without sarcasm, nothing but sincerity in his eyes—though if one had taken a closer look with the sunglasses gone, one might have noticed a slightly uneven, jagged edge around the iris, which gave the man an almost permanently dazed look about him.

"We are most grateful for your services," said the rasping voice again, almost soothingly. "We will be relying on you."

The man's returning smile was like that of a sleepwalker. "Course. Thank you very much, boss."

As soon as he was gone, the reptilian creature pulled back and pressed the hidden door closed with a soft clunk.

Head bowed, the creature opened the bag to inspect it. He sniffed, then wretched and coughed. Snout slightly wrinkled, he turned and descended a flight of cracked, concrete steps, stopping when he reached a basement area below.

The creature reached up and flicked a switch attached to some exposed wiring in a hole in the wall, and suddenly a dim light illuminated the space. Three other strange beings sat reclining about the barren room, and all looked up eagerly at the sight of him, like dogs at attention to get a treat.

"Savant! You rapscallion. What did the human get for us today?" asked a low, wheezing voice.

"Yes, we've waited long enough," said another, this one with a deep rumbling like a tiger's growl.

Savant surveyed the three with luminescent yellow eyes.

The three figures were all as strikingly inhuman as he was, with their long saurian tails, chalky gray skin covered in dark armored plates, and curved horns that jutted from their heads like those of a bull. Two of the figures had thick, well-muscled bodies and their horns were adorned with four points each; the third's horns possessed only three points and his build was wiry rather than powerful, but what he lacked in physical makeup he made up for in the sheer cruelty etched into his small, pointed face.

"Yes, goblin," said the wiry one, lips curled back from sharp yellow teeth. "Let's see if you've finally got a hold of something worthwhile for us."

Without moving his eyes, the goblin reached slowly into the bag. A moment later the clawed hand reappeared, clutching a cheap loaf of bread.

The creatures showed every sign of breaking out in protest, but then, wordlessly, the goblin tossed the bag at the group where it fell in the middle of the hard floor with a heavy slap.

"Share," said the goblin curtly, then watched with disgust as the three descended on the bag, ripping out the slab of raw meat and greedily devouring it like a pack of wolves.

Savant turned away, and he had to suppress a shudder. Demons. Not only were they all carnivores, but even after living among the People again for almost a year, they had failed to pick up any trace of civility.

Savant made his way back through the hideout to one of the side rooms he had unofficially taken as his own, closing the rotting door behind him to shut out the sounds of depravity coming from the main chamber.

He sat himself down, back against the cold cement wall, and eyed the loaf of bread. He sniffed it, then growled.

As he'd thought, it had been tainted by the meat. He'd been living off almost nothing but military-grade nutribars for the past month, and it only made sense to have their personal human slave for this site pick something up for him while filling the ridiculous request of his demon comrades—if he could call them that—to bring back something more satisfying. But he thought he preferred the hard, stale nutribars to this. However, now that he had it, he couldn't just let it go to waste; it wasn't in his nature.

Savant continued to glower as he took a slow, distasteful bite from the Mud Man bread loaf.

In all honesty, there were few things Savant despised more than unnecessary risks, but when he did not have raw meat brought periodically, the demons would start threatening to go off by themselves and get their own. So he was forced to send out their human contact on these frivolous expeditions, despite how hazardous they were to the secrecy of their location.

The pathetic whiners. Savant could not understand why he was being forced to work with them; he could have fulfilled this assignment himself just as well on his own. They were more liabilities than assets, the whole lot of them, but even they were supposedly necessary for "the plan."

The master—the mind behind this entire affair—had not told Savant what the demons' purpose was, but from the beginning he had suspected they were there to give the LEP room for doubt. After all, the primary object of these games was to draw the attention of the LEP, in order to allow the master room to focus on more important preparations. But with a goblin alone managing to slip through their net, they were likely to suspect someone else must be behind it, as a stupid goblin obviously wouldn't be mentally capable of evading capture this long on his own. Demons, on the other hand, while bloodthirsty and prone to violence, were considered as intelligent as normal fairies.

Savant viciously ripped off another chunk of the disgusting bread.

Savant was, of course, the leader of this band, and it was his careful efforts that had kept them out of the LEP's eye. And even though there was indeed a mastermind behind all this, the master didn't have time to micromanage every aspect of the mission, and so many of the details were left up to Savant. So far he had been more successful than even he could have anticipated, especially having three virtual deadweights in tow—but of course, the arrogant, insufferable elves back in Haven would never consider that. A goblin was physically incapable of being an intelligent, foresighted creature, as everyone knew.

But, Savant had decided from the moment he had taken up work under the master that he wouldn't allow himself to think too much on that subject anymore. His life had consisted of nothing but farce and injustice, but if he let himself get too riled up, it would interfere with his ability to carry out his assigned tasks. Passion was the enemy of efficiency, so the saying went.

Savant tore off another section of bread, a little less savagely this time, his eyes gazing pensively at the far wall.

There were many odd aspects of the master's commands. Savant's way was to follow all of them without question, but that didn't stop him from observing just how bizarre and seemingly counterproductive some of them were. Savant's main charge was to provide a sufficient distraction, so that the LEP's focus would be on him. Something criminal, and with the potential to be very serious in terms of the wellbeing of the People.

We will start out small, the master had said. A simple unauthorized break to the surface, with a few demons from one of the correctional facilities. But as final preparations for his larger plans neared, he wanted it to be more serious, and draw out more of the LEP's resources. I would like something a little more sensational, Mr. Savant. Deaths, perhaps. Murders.

This was where the plan had gotten somewhat strange and, to Savant's mind, a little convoluted. The master didn't simply want Savant and the demons to go around killing Mud Men. He wanted the LEP to think they had been committing murders from the beginning, but they hadn't realized it.

I want to create a mystery, Mr. Savant, the master had said. Because then the LEP will spend all its time trying to uncover the secret to that mystery and so will completely miss the one that is of real importance. It's the nature of sentient beings, fairy and human. In psychology we call it the law of perceptual blindness.

Privately, Savant disagreed with this way of thinking. Committing murders, then going to elaborate means to cover them up so they would be discovered later would only draw attention to the fact that there was a mastermind behind all this, and these weren't just random acts of violence. But, it wasn't Savant's place to argue, so he had been carrying out the plan to the best of his ability.

As of yet, however, Savant had not killed a single human. It seemed like an unnecessary waste, and he did not think it efficient to go around killing Mud Men, then go out of his way to make it appear he had tried to cover it up. So instead, he had come up with the alternative of keeping an eye on human police reports and news outlets, and when a dead human turned up, he would go to the place of the event, and leave trace evidence he had been there. The master had approved of the plan, and added that he intended to help one of his moles in the LEP tamper with crime statistics, to make it appear deaths had gone up significantly in the area, to aid the LEP in figuring out what was going on without being too obvious.

Savant had gone along for some time with the LEP apparently none the wiser of his efforts, until the previous day, when the master had tipped Savant off as to a death that had not even been discovered by the human police yet. Savant had dutifully gone to the residence, with the intent of going about his usual task of planting evidence to condemn himself sometime in the future, and there, apparently by accident, he had run across an LEP operative. Savant could have easily killed the elf, but as he didn't believe in coincidences, and suspected that the master had intentionally brought about the encounter in order to speed things up for the sake of his plans, Savant had let the officer go, throwing in a bit of playacting to make absolute certain the LEP made the connection they were supposed to.

Complicated. But, Savant found he didn't mind complicated so much. It gave him a chance to use his brain, which was more than could be said for the opportunities of most goblins.

Savant forced down the last bit of bread and, listening, heard that the sounds of chomping and snarling as the three demons tussled for the bit of meat in the main room had died away now. With a slight sigh, Savant got slowly to his feet. Needless to say, his demon partners weren't too happy about the distinct lack of Mud Men limb-hacking going on. They knew nothing of his orders or the mission they were charged to carry out, and were under the impression they were all working for some petty fairy crime lord living underground, who got a kick out of leading the LEP on. They were like restless children, and part of Savant's endless struggle was finding ways to prevent their wandering off and interfering with his mission.

When Savant reentered the room, he found the wiry demon sitting in the middle of the floor looking satisfied, tail twitching like that of a contented cat, while the two bulky ones were hovering near the stairs, looking sulky and resentful. They were showing every sign of wanting to sneak up and outside. It was easy to see who had gotten the lion's share of the meat.

"Why can't we go out now?" complained one of the big ones.

"It's so dark, it not like anyone would see us," added the other.

The third demon guffawed at them in a way that was not likely to help make them content to stay cooped up here.

Savant shot the lanky, smirking demon a withering look. "Enough of your sniveling," he growled at the pair. "I have some business to carry out tonight and you are to stay here. If you leave while I am gone and jeopardize our efforts...well, I would advise you to keep in mind that you are expendable."

"What efforts?" wondered the one sitting on the floor. "We only joined up with you because you said we'd be getting our claws into some human flesh. But all you ever do is tell us not to do this and not to touch that. If we had wanted someone to be our mother, we would have gone and found our real mothers when we came back from Hybras."

When it came to leadership, Savant believed that an attitude of mutual respect was ideal. Positive reinforcement of the rules and rewards for those who performed well were integral parts of any truly efficient system, and Savant had always had a special despise for the kind of teachers, especially those at the early levels of schooling and within the LEP training program, who maintained their position by incessant bullying of those under their authority. However, positive means were basically worthless when dealing with complete and utter halfwits like these.

"Just shut up and do as you're told if you want to live out the rest of this year," snarled Savant. "You'll get to go out again soon, but not tonight. I have an objective that has to be met this evening. If you ever want to see a sliver of meat again, you'll close your traps and sit quietly."

The skinny demon did not look impressed. "And what objective is that? Going out for a night of fun spilling human blood without us again?"

The two big dumb ones were growling in what sounded like agreement. They shifted restlessly, puffing out their chests and baring their teeth, looking ready for a fight.

The smaller but slightly more intelligent demon grinned, mouth full of yellow teeth as ever. One gray hand rested casually near his chest, near the shoulder holster where hung the black modified laser gun not unlike a Neutrino each member of the group always carried.

Savant surveyed the three carefully. The two big ones were now looking at him with resentment and envy. It looked as though things might explode into a full-blown mutiny.

Of course, the tension had built up to this point at least twice a week since Savant had first taken on this job, so he was hardly intimidated. As usual, it was mostly orchestrated by the lanky demon, who Savant supposed was angling to snag the leadership for himself, the fool.

Savant already knew what to say to shut them down.

"Transport, actually," he grunted dismissively. "The boss wants a new shipment from the tunnels brought into the city. Discreetly. Are you offering to help, then? I was under the impression you were refusing to do anything that counted as work." He curled the skin around his mouth back from his teeth in a sneer.

His blatant lie worked as the two big ones' faces sank in obvious disappointment. Savant had no doubt that if they knew what his orders for tonight really were, they would be spitting fireballs bigger than any goblin with jealousy, but they weren't in the least interested in doing grunt work.

However, it seemed that tonight the small one wasn't going to be so easily deterred. His broad grin turned mocking. "You know, I've been thinking," he said idly, but with just a hint of menace, "we wouldn't have to do anything—either work or stay stuck in this stupid place—if you weren't here."

Light bulbs seemed to come on in the two other demons' dull eyes, as though they had never thought of this before. It seemed that tonight things might not just fizzle out into nothing as they usually did. Were these three really that simple?

"Idiot," Savant said coldly. "Without me, the LEP would catch you and throw you in a cell in a day."

"It's the tech that keeps us from getting caught," said the demon, plucking at his lapel. "And look, we already got that. So guess what? That means we don't need you anymore, goblin."

The demon was already drawing his weapon and the other two were quick to follow suit.

Your choice, Savant thought. Brainless though it was.

Before the barrel of the first one's handgun cleared the holster, three rapid-fire pulses struck each demon in the chest dead center. They all dropped to the ground simultaneously like three sacks of potatoes.

Ignoring the three unconscious forms, Savant dispassionately examined the gleaming black gun in his hand. Three shots in under a second—not bad performance. Certainly more advanced than the models back when he had been training with the LEP. And it weighed so little the draw-time was practically as fast as his hand could move; he had no idea how the demons managed to plod along in the drawing of their weapons like that. They really were useless.

Savant replaced the black handgun in the holster at his hip and finally turned to glance around at his downed subordinates.

They would be out for several hours at least, plenty of time for him to perform his business and get back. However, there could be a problem when they woke up. They weren't going to be happy. On the other hand, demons generally chose their leaders based on who could beat all the others to a bloody pulp, so perhaps they would finally start showing him some respect.

Savant shook his head imperceptibly, then turned his focus to the night's operation. He needed his concentration to be absolute, his mind razor sharp. After all, the master had impressed upon him the seriousness of tonight in relation to the entire scheme. Savant felt a thrill at being given such a crucial role, but that importance also meant he must not fail.

Buzzing up his shield, Savant quietly passed through the hidden doorway, closing it carefully behind him.

He crept silently through the darkness of the rest of the crumbling old building like a phantom, passing room after decrepit, barren room. As he went, he turned his mind to inwardly repeating the the list of instructions and other relevant information the master had given him.

This operation would be similar to his usual activities in some ways, except this time there were some humans who he must take care of by his own hand. The site was apparently an upscale home in a fairly remote area with a highly advanced security system, though the master had assured him that the defenses would be no problem to bypass, thanks to the many features of his jumpsuit. There were likely to be more than just the core family members there when he arrived, as the house had many employees and there was some event supposed to be going on, so he ought not to be concerned by extra heat sources. Of the family, there were four main members, the parents and their two children. He was to leave them unscathed, but could eliminate anyone else who got in his way.

He recalled the master's voice the day before, telling him over the communicator kept at all times just inside his ear hole that there was no need to do any prior research as he usually did, and it would all probably go better if he did none.

"The family has two servants who will stand out from the rest. Those two happen to be of particular danger to my plans. One is a man, middle-aged, who you may recognize by his unusually immense size. The other is a young adult female, who you can distinguish from the matriarch of the household by her lighter color hair. Both are highly skilled combat experts. Kill them both."

Savant felt a shiver despite himself as he lifted off into the dark sky. In truth, he had never actually killed anyone before. He had joined the LEP because he had wanted to prove that a goblin could be more than just a common criminal. That even a goblincould be an asset to society.

However, Savant did not regret his decision. Life under the master was in every way so much better than anything he had ever experienced with the LEP or in living among other fairies, with the arrogant elves and their incessant sneering and condescension. So he had vowed that, in return, he would do anything the master wanted.

The master's word was law—so kill the humans Savant would.

A/N: First, I'd just like to say, See Jane Run is universal to all species.

Yes, somewhat lengthy of an introduction to an OC this time. And of course, Major Evergreen is practically like an OC, since his appearance in the original series was so brief (he was in the short story about Holly's initiation to Recon captain in the Artemis Fowl Files) and at the time we learned almost nothing about him. Not to mention, I threw out a lot of what we might have gotten through implication, since this story is operating on the notion that his personality was completely altered after he lost his memory. (Like, the ordeal has given him an air of maturity he didn't have before, or something.)

I know sometimes in fanfiction there's kind of a stigma attached to the introduction of OCs (understatement?), so I want to talk a little bit about my thought processes here. After putting a lot of consideration into this part of the story, I decided that the story as a whole would be stronger and feel more complete if it explored points of view that, while still hopefully falling believably within the AF universe, are outside that of the core AF cast. When I was first starting to mentally plan the groundwork for this story, and all my ideas for chapters mainly consisted of switching back and forth between Holly and Artemis's points of view (maybe throwing in Foaly or Butler once in a while), I kept having this nagging feeling the story felt too confined, like the expansiveness of the world of AF wasn't really being communicated. And in a story like this, when the world of the story feels confined, like there are only a few settings and even fewer characters, I think it can be hard to make the story as a whole feel believable.

Well, as always, I could ramble on a lot longer, but I'll leave it there. I guess I just wanted to reassure you all (well, anyone who actually reads these overly long author's notes) that I hope no one's disconcerted or alarmed at the sudden insertion of an OC. I'm thinking about it all very carefully, really. It's all for the plot.

Oh, before I forget, one last side note. I think it was on a forum I was on, someone pointed out a minor plothole. In The Opal Deception, we learn about the codes on Foaly's newest guns, which makes it so the gun codes itself to a particular individual, and from then on the gun can only be fired by that person. But in The Lost Colony, Artemis fires Holly's gun in order to change the past and save Holly. So, I figured there was probably some kind of potential explanation there I could work in. (I suppose it would actually be simpler to assume that not every operative in the LEP is always going to be given a weapon that's the latest model and has all the latest features, but that would just be too simple. Apparently I don't feel satisfied unless I make things as complicated as possible.)

Thank you all so much for your wonderful comments and for your ever enduring patience! Please tell me what you thought, and hope to see you next chapter! (:

Posted 5/16/14, some minor edits 5/24/15