Present Day

John stretched, trying to crack his neck but only succeeded in straining his muscles further. "Next time, I'll pay more for First-Class."

"You're so spoiled." Anna shook her head, moving as if she had not just spent over twelve hours on the same plane he did and in an identical seat.

"I am not spoiled."

"You are." Anna pointed at the others behind them as they deplaned. "They all endured the same flight you did and wouldn't have the opportunity to upgrade if they worked their entire lives to do so."

"And that makes me spoiled?"

"Of course it does."

"Then, if I'm spoiled, I'd remind you that I worked hard to be this spoiled."

"I've lived in your house so I know that's true." Anna patted his arm and readjusted her bag on her shoulder. "Come one then. We've got a few hours to kill before our next flight."

"After the illusion of food on the plane I could use something a little more substantial." John checked over his bags. "And maybe a stop in Duty Free. I packed in a haze so I'm not even sure what I have in here."

"Then it's a good thing I've been through LAX enough times to get both of those things accomplished." Anna guided them away from the gate and wove between the streams of people toward a collection of restaurants in their terminal. "They're not the classiest of locales but I don't think either of us has one of those passes that gets us into the swankier places."

"And if I did?"

"I wouldn't let you use it here." Anna shook her head, "It's a little too gaudy for me and it reeks of privilege."

"And I don't reek of privilege already?"

"I think you're desperate and trying to find a level of normalcy in a world you're struggling to understand."

John paused as Anna led them to a table and stopped their roller bags next to it. "Do you understand this world?"

"Only a fraction better than you." Anna took a seat and John joined her, his fingers immediately tapping a tattoo on the plastic top. She put her hand over his, her fingers stroking across his skin until his fingers stopped. "I've worked a few abduction cases. Never on this scale or with this level of personal investment but, at the end of the day, this is no different from those."

"No?"

"No." Anna interlaced their fingers. "We'll get Brendan back and then the next part begins."

"The next part?" John scoffed, "I can barely handle this part."

"But you're still going and that means something." Anna drew back, her fingers sliding out of John's. "It's easier than you think."

"As easy as what you did for me on the plane?"

"That?" Anna scoffed, "That's an old trick I learned to distract myself when I was anxious while on assignments."

"You used to imagine yourself in sexual situations to distract yourself from being anxious at work?" John raised an eyebrow, "I would've thought it'd be more distracting to be thinking about sexual situations in your line of work."

"Maybe but it relaxed me and convinced the primal parts of my brain that I was fine. It's like chewing gum when you're nervous." Anna shrugged, "If your brain thinks it can do something as simple as chew gum or think about sex then it must not be in danger and suddenly your heart stops racing and you're calm."

"And that actually works?"

"I do believe you slept through most of the flight so I'd say, yes." Anna winked at him, "Even if it was a little… uncomfortable for you."

"I told you, the seat was small."

"I wasn't talking about that." Anna leaned forward slightly, "Don't think I didn't notice that you were in a… state."

John squirmed in his seat, "It wasn't purposeful."

"It's a natural reaction." Anna leaned back, "And I'd like to think I'm not the only woman in the world when confronted with the side of her husband thinking about sex with her finds it a little attractive."

"Only a little?"

"Mr. Bates, if we weren't in a public place I'd take you right now." Anna pointed at John, "See?"

"See what?"

"You're relaxed now." Anna opened her hands, "I rest my case."

"Until I've got to stand up and you've got me publicly indecent again."

"My bad." Anna took a deep breath, "The truth is, the worst thing you can be, especially right now, is tense. It'll make you anxious, tighten all your muscles, and put your primal instincts into overdrive when I need you thinking rationally."

"Are you afraid you can't trust my judgment the way you're afraid Blake and Ross won't trust yours if they know about our relationship?"

"Yes and no." Anna sucked the insides of her cheeks, "The situation you're going through I've handled before. I've had to keep parents and loved ones steady while they wanted nothing more than to pace runners in their floors while waiting for the tiniest scrap of news about the people in their lives suddenly in danger."

"But?"

"But," Anna dragged out the word, "I've never had to justify my objectivism in a case because I've never had one so close to home."

"I'll take it as a genuine compliment that you consider me and mine home."

Anna frowned at him, "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because, like I said in Riyadh, we've spent most of our marriage apart."

"John," Anna opened her mouth, closed it, and made a face before speaking. "How much do you trust me?"

"Is this a trick question?"

"There's not a wrong answer if that's what you're worried about."

"Then, being fair, I trust the professional in you to get my son back."

Anna gave a small smile that did not reach her eyes, "And the personal part?"

John took a breath, "I don't know. I trust that we've stayed married and that you live in my house in London and you accept my gifts and my emails and my cards but I don't know what that really means for us. Or what relationship we can actually call our own. Or even what we call our relationship."

"Then allow me to shed a little light on that from my perspective, yes?" Anna waited until John nodded. "Sometimes you call into something great by accident and other times you suffer for something mediocre almost on purpose."

"I'm not sure how to take that."

"Take it this way," Anna put her elbows on the edge of the table and leveraged them to lean toward John again. "Before I met you I was in a six-year relationship with a guy. Do you know why it ended?"

"I can only guess it's because he was an idiot."

"Maybe." Anna managed a half-shrug, "But that's not when I realized I needed to end the relationship."

John winced, "What made you realize it was a mistake?"

"When I realized I was wasting all that time waiting on him to love me enough to do something about it." Anna shook her head, "Six years, John. I waited six years for him to do something as simple as ask me if we should get married. And, when I realized he never would, I also came to uncomfortable conclusion that even if he'd asked I wouldn't have wanted to say yes."

"So…" John frowned and then shook his head, "I'm confused."

"So was I, obviously. Why would I put six years into a relationship I realized I didn't even want?"

When she did not immediately answer John spoke, "Was that rhetorical or am I supposed to guess the answer?"

"It was more a dramatic pause but," Anna held up a finger, "Do you know when it hit me that I was wasting my time?"

"No."

"When I was watching Legally Blonde. " She paused again, "Are you familiar with the movie?"

"I've seen it once or twice on TV I think."

"The plot is immaterial to the moment I'm talking about but there was Elle Woods, facing the man she struggled to get into Harvard to be with, and you see the moment it hits her that he's never going to seriously want her as a person. And then she says, to his face, 'I'll never be good enough for you, will I?' and that…" Anna snapped her fingers and straightened. "That was the lightning bolt hitting my brain."

"Must've hurt."

"Ha, ha." Anna waved off John's comment. "Elle's revelation, to herself and Werner, was the moment I realized that's why my boyfriend would never propose. It was why I had to be the one to instigate us even living together. I wasn't good enough for him to struggle for but I was good enough for him to be comfortable with and that, in my experience, means you're not good enough."

"That's…" John swallowed, "Depressing."

"Especially when you consider all the years I wasted hoping he'd love me and decide to change." Anna managed a little laugh, "Then, six months later, I'm married to you so I guess he's the loser."

"Anyone who dumps you is a loser."

"You're supposed to say that, you're my husband."

"I've met more than a few husbands who don't say it." John cringed, "And I can't claim that I said it for my first wife."

"Speaking of trust." Anna folded her arms over her chest. "You don't talk about her much. In your letters or your emails. And Brendan, in the two times we've all been in the same room, doesn't talk about her at all."

"Like I mentioned, Brendan's relationship with his mother is…" John cringed, "It's my fault, really."

"Because you got married when you were young and impetuous and then the two of you proved to be stubborn bastards about how Catholic you had to be when it came to bearing through struggle and strife?"

"You make it sound so pig-headed when you say it like that." Anna only raised an eyebrow and John took a breath. "Vera and I met and married in that order but she got pregnant before we married… Which neither of our very Catholic families was happy about. And Vera considered getting an abortion but you couldn't do that in Ireland and I was against it and even a whiff in that direction almost brought holy hell down on her so…"

"You married and made each other miserable?"

John nodded. "I'd like to think, at first, that I tried my best but I know I didn't. I wasn't mature enough or responsible enough and I felt about as saddled as she did. Although," He flexed his jaw, "Given she was the one pregnant that would make her more saddled than me."

"But you stayed together?"

"Do you know the hierarchy of unpardonable sin in a Catholic community?" When Anna shook her head John put his hands in the air to signify the strata. "Babies out of wedlock, leaving the church, abortion, and divorce… With a smattering of other sins somewhere in there. And the order fluctuates but the idea that, between Vera and I, we were on our way to committing a heinously unforgivable number of those it was… Tumultuous in our community."

"You stayed together out of spite then?"

"And position." John shrugged, "Vera liked the finer things and my assignments as an Ambassador played right into her hands."

"Then what finally broke you two apart?"

"When I insisted that Brendan live with his grandmother when he went to school in Dublin." John sighed, "I guess, looking back on it, offering that he'd go there under Vera's maiden name wasn't the consolation prize I thought it was."

"Did she want Brendan with her?"

"She didn't want Brendan with my mother because they'd been at loggerheads since before Vera and I married." John snorted, "My mother would've forgiven a baby out of wedlock if it meant I never married Vera."

"You're sure about that?"

"Given how quickly she forgave my divorce I'd say she almost had a party." John shook his head, "My mother wasn't a saint and she said some things to Brendan that… They affected how Brendan saw his mother. Even if they were true."

Anna winced, "What'd she say?"

"She's the one who told Brendan that Vera was unfaithful to me and that the reason I insisted Brendan had to live with his grandmother instead of his mother in Dublin was because I didn't trust her family or the drinking habits Vera hadn't kicked despite two rounds of rehab."

"Ouch." Anna tapped her fingers on the table, "Where's Vera now?"

"I've no idea." John chewed the inside of his cheek. "After I stopped having alimony to pay to her I lost track. I shouldn't have, given she's the mother of our child, but I think part of me was relieved I didn't have to worry about it anymore."

"I'm glad she's never been a part of our lives." Anna shuddered, "I can only imagine what that would mean."

"A lot more stress." John took a breath, "But I do, by the way."

"Do what?"

"Trust you." John shrugged up one shoulder. "At least enough to tell you about my ex-wife. And to leave my house in London in your care."

"It's a lovely house." Anna gave him a real smile, "And it's why I think you need to stop with all this bullshit about us not knowing one another."

"But we-"

"There are people who lived their entire lives with a spouse just to find out he was a serial killer and they never knew. Or a couple that dies and their children find out one of them had an affair that no one knew about." Anna shook her head, "How much you know about a person with facts and figures is shit if you don't actually know anything about the person."

"And you think we know one another?"

"I think I know more about you as a person than I did after six years with my previous boyfriend… Which was the whole reason performed that very dramatic retelling of a part of my life story for you." They both gave a laugh at that before Anna reached for John's hand, her finger stroking over his wedding ring. "These were convenient, and continue to be so for me if we're being honest, but they're more than that now. They have to be."

John nodded, "It… It means more to me than just convenience."

"Then," Anna brought John's hand to her mouth to kiss. "Let's get something to eat and find you something you'll feel comfortable wearing for the next three-hour flight we've got in Business Class."

"Next time I'll pick the tickets."

"Next time I'll let you as long as we're not making a slap-and-dash trip to be present for a hostage negotiation or to resolve a kidnapping."

"How…" John trailed Anna, pulling their bags behind him as they entered a line for one of the fast food places. "How often do you have to do things like this?"

"I make a point of never discussing my clients."

"I meant…" John swallowed, lowering his voice and shuffling closer to Anna to try and cut down on the risk of someone else hearing him. "In general. How often are you negotiating to free hostages or trying to get back kidnapped people?"

Anna set her focus on the middle distance, narrowing her eyes and frowning a moment before answering. "About a dozen-and-a-half, altogether."

"That many?"

"That's a conservative estimate."

"Lately or…"

"No, lately it's been protection details, not kidnapping or ransom." She shivered, "But there was a stint, about three years before I met you, I was working in Mexico on almost non-stop cases of preventing or responding to kidnappings for these rich children and it almost made me want to quit the business."

"I could see it." John swallowed through a dry patch in his throat. "The terror… It's agonizing."

"It can be." Anna let out a breath, "The worst part is knowing that you're doing all you can and yet it might not be enough. And then it's 'hurry up and wait'. For the other shoe to drop, for the penny in the air, for any of a number of small things to go wrong and then blow up in your face. And after the last one, where we were down to the wire getting the girl back, I packed it in and decided I was out of that particular line of my work."

"So you don't work kidnappings anymore?"

"No." Anna shook her head and moved up in the line. "Like I said, I met Blake when we were both PPOs and after that nasty year-and-a-half in Mexico I decided that I should go back to what I was good at."

"Putting the asses of bigger men on the ground?"

Anna smiled to herself, "That's a perk, not going to lie, but I enjoy making people feel safe. Helping them realize there's no reason to fear every minute of every day and then finally putting their fears to rest when we succeed in keeping them safe or resolving their issue."

"I'm certainly sleeping a little easier with you along."

"Good." Anna put a hand on John's arm. "I need you at your best."

"I'm trying to-"

"That's not what I mean." Anna shook her head, "I need you to sleep, to eat, to listen to what I say and do it when I say it."

"Of course."

"You say that now but…" Anna bit at her lip. "The tension you felt on the plane, the way you paced in Riyadh… That's just the start. When this gets down to the wire and you're facing down the barrel of this gun, what are you going to do?"

"I…" John's jaw worked on a spring before he closed his mouth again.

"It's alright not to know and it's alright to be scared. If you weren't I'd suspect you were a sociopath or something." Anna went up to the counter, "Hello, one spicy chicken deluxe, the waffle fries, two of your sauces, and one of your frosted lemonades. The small please."

John joined her at the counter but Anna ordered for him, echoing her order with the only change being a milkshake she drank while he chewed mechanically at his food. He only noticed his tray empty when Anna rapped her knuckles against the table. "Lost in thought?"

"I guess so." He swallowed, his fingers turning the milkshake cup clockwise and then counterclockwise on the table. "I think I got caught up on what you said about what I'd do when I'm starring down the barrel."

"I do hope you're aware that was a metaphor." Anna cringed, "One that, in hindsight, seems very cruel."

"Maybe a little off-color but not wrong." John shrugged, "I don't know."

"You don't have to know yet." Anna made a face, "I hope you don't have to make the decision because Blake and Ross prove themselves capable enough to solve this problem before it gets bigger."

She checked her phone, "Come on. We've got to get to the domestic terminal to make our next flight."

"No shirts?" John stood and followed Anna's lead through the terminal.

"Not here." Anna made a face at him, "Guess it'll be Walmart or Target for you and I on this trip."

"What's a Walmart?"

Anna only laughed as she guided him from the international section.

The flight across the United States proved about as comfortable as the flight across the Pacific Ocean. The only difference was that Anna was asleep immediately and John flicked mindlessly through the movie and television options for an hour before trying to sleep himself. But all he accomplished was giving himself a neck crick, dry mouth, and waking up when the drink cart knocked his elbow.

His shift had Anna roused in a second. She blinked, orienting herself, and then sighed when she noticed John shuffling in his seat. "Do you need another inappropriate memory?"

"I think I need to reevaluate all of the life choices that led me here."

"Okay." Anna moved in her seat, sitting half-way to face him. "Tell me how you got to this position."

"I told you… yesterday?" John frowned, "Was it yesterday? I don't remember time the right way at the moment."

"Time's an illusion." Anna prodded his arm, "Tell me how you got into this."

"I told you-"

"You told me, roughly, how it happened." Anna propped her chin on her hand. "How'd you get into this business?"

"Well," John took a breath. "I was in Tehran, buying Islamic art to build up a personal collection, when I received an invitation to an exclusive art show in Dubai. Which was lucky because I had some regional interests there I was supposed to look into for the Foreign Office so I booked the ticket and went."

Dubai, United Arab Emirates – Twelve Years Ago

He bent forward, frowning at the script, and straightened to look for one of the curators when a man spoke at his elbow. "It's a typo."

"What?"

"What you're about to point out," The man pointed at the label on the piece. "It's a typo. Hard to catch if you're not being careful but I always thought Arabic looked like much nicer cursive."

"It's no excuse to not print the right thing."

"No, of course not." The man extended his hand. "Charles Blake."

"John Bates." John shook and pulled back his hand. "But if you noticed it, and noticed that I noticed it, why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I can't imagine looking like a pompous white man correcting the printing of Arabic on a label in a museum in the Middle East."

"Ah," John nodded, "Point taken."

"Besides," Blake waved it off, "Mistakes happen."

"They truly do." John moved to the next piece, frowning when Blake continued speaking. "Sorry?"

"I was just saying," Blake pointed at John, "That mistakes can be as simple as misspelling a name on a ticket as well."

"How'd you…" John sighed, "I'm guessing you're not just a white man looking at Islamic art at this exhibit, are you?"

"I'm not."

"And the chances of me meeting a man wearing the cut of suit you're wearing with the kind of watch you've got on gives me the distinct impression there's a particular set of letters and numbers that come after the possibly fake name you just gave me."

"It's my real name."

"For this persona or what your parents would call you?"

Blake's expression faltered for half a second. "I promise you, they're the names my parents gave me at birth."

"Then, Mr. Blake, what other letters go with your name?" John sighed, "I'm guessing something governmental."

"For someone representing the government you don't seem too excited to be meeting a fellow patriot abroad."

"I'm not when I've got you honing in on the few hours of personal time I sliced away for myself in the midst of a number of rather boring meetings and delicate debates." John took another breath. "What do you want, Mr. Blake?"

"Your help."

"Obviously." John glanced around them before jerking his head toward a corner. Once out of earshot of anyone close by, he continued. "Help with what? If it's official then it goes through my office and has to get the right approvals from-"

"I'm aware of official protocol or I wouldn't have arranged this ticket to ambush you here and now." Blake opened his hands. "I'm not anymore new at this than you are at the job you've got here."

"I work in Tehran."

"Right." Blake smiled and John bit the inside of his cheek. "It's about you being in Tehran that interests me."

"Do you always state the obvious?"

"Frequently, you never know when you'll lose someone or exactly how stupid people can be."

"I think I'm getting to the point I'm seeing it."

"Then let me reach mine," Blake took a breath, "I need you to help me sneak political prisoners out of Iran and back to the UK."

"You're shitting me."

"No."

John shook his head, "The diplomatic relations I'd shatter in a second by even considering this lunacy is beyond belief."

"Then you're saying no?"

"What else could I say?"

"Yes, once you hear how." Blake waited and John, rooted by intrigue and shock, did not move. "You've made a name for yourself in this rather niche world of Islamic art. Especially given your position. And it's made you a good model for us. Not only because of the positive image you've got in this area but also what we can do with it acting as a smokescreen for us."

"Because you think I'm going to say yes?"

"Because the fact that you didn't immediately walk away means you're going to say yes." Blake removed something from his jacket and handed it to John. "Those are tickets to Germany. Berlin, specifically."

"What's in Germany?"

"Some pieces you've been hoping to add to your collection and contacts of mine that will facilitate you getting those pieces through Chinese dealers."

John frowned, "Chinese dealers?"

"You'd be surprised what comes out of China these days?"

"Like political prisoners?"

Blake smiled, "Now you're catching on."

John handled the envelope before letting all the air leave his chest. "Who do I meet in Berlin?"

"His name's Ross and you can't miss him."

"Why not?"

"He'll be one of the only black men you'll see and he's got one of the biggest personalities you'll ever meet."

"Brilliant."

"Cheer up Mr. Bates." Blake clapped John's shoulder. "You're going to help us change the world and countless lives."

"At what cost?"

"Hopefully only a few airline tickets and whatever space you've got to arrange to fit new pieces in your house."

"If that's all." John checked the dates, "I guess I can't wait to start."

"Capital. Oh," Blake held up a finger to stop John leaving. "And it's MI6."

"What is?"

"The government letters and numbers after my name." Blake gestured back to the exhibit, "Enjoy the rest of your evening Mr. Bates."

John watched his go, still holding the tickets in his hand, and shrugged. "Maybe I will."