Micheal stiffened. He recognized the voice behind him as it spoke again.

"Why are you following me?"

"I saw you walking alone. Thought you might be a kid who lost his parents," Micheal said before he heard a soft hitch in the figure's breath. Micheal began to turn around. He glimpsed the figure taking a couple of steps back, closer to a cluster of trees.

"You know Micheal. You just can't seem to follow orders. Even if it comes from the place you're trying to go back to. Not trying to sound cliche or anything but I'd be careful. You might blow this mission to bits. I must thank you for something though. You helped me out in finding something from the past."

"And what did I help you out with?" Micheal asked trying to pinpoint the figure who had seemingly melt into the shadows of the trees.

"Talking to Mr. Stewards. Gave me some insight on the past, including his of course. Of course he did get John's last name wrong the meaning was easy enough to discern, if you know the proper background knowledge. Which of course you don't and most likely will never know. It cost me a lot just to find out myself," the figure told him before giving a small smile. "You know I was told not to interact with you or offer help, but I never had much of a knack for following orders. You need help or advice, call me on this phone," he explained throwing the phone at Micheal. "Only number saved other that a few phonies. Speed dial 3. See you later, Micheal," the boy left with that sprinting away into the darkness, Micheal watching after him before turning to head back to the loft.

"What took you so long, Alex?" Mark demanded when they got back to their hotel. "The pick up time was scheduled for a half hour ago!"

Alex yawned before responding, dropping his American accent. "Oh, excuse me for being late. I was perfectly fine. No physical damage. I got in and out safely."

"You contacted Micheal didn't you?" Heather asked.

"Me?" Alex asked feigning innocence. "Why I was under direct orders not to by two agents who aren't in charge here. Of course I didn't. Didn't so much as blink at him. Now if you excuse me, some of us need our beauty sleep. Goodnight."

With that Alex left, but not to sleep like he claimed, but to ponder over what he had overheard earlier that night.

Michael entered the loft, thinking about his strange encounter.

"What happened?" Fiona asked looking up from her magazine.

"Alex Smith popped in for a visit. If that is his name. He was there the whole time listening in. He's good, Fi. I wouldn't have noticed him if he hadn't rustled the tree branches a bit," Micheal replied. "I lied for him, he gave me his number. Said he wasn't supposed to and to call if we needed help or advice."

"I don't trust this kid, Micheal. Something's off about him. You know what I say Micheal. If something seems to good to be true, it's best to shoot it just in case."

"I agree with Fi for once Mikey. That kid has something wrong with him."

"I know. We'll probably see him tomorrow. I have another meeting with Stewards. Same place. I just hope that kid doesn't blow my cover. Sam, I heard some names that upset Alex during the meeting. Can you look into them?"

"Sure, Mikey. What are they?"

"Helen Beckett and John Hunter."

Alex kicked the soccer ball to one of the other boys playing the pickup game, keeping one eye on the restaurant for either Eugene or Micheal to show. He didn't have to wait long.

"Hey guys, I'm going to go get some lunch. I'll be back in a it," Alex told the others. A few of them said goodbye, the others didn't acknowledge him. Alex met Heather and Mark at the entrance to the Coco Kabash.

"Took you long enough, honey," Heather told him, shaking her head at the state of his clothes.

"Sorry, Mom. I got caught up in the game."

"That's fine, Alex. I did the same thing when I was your age," Mark cut in. "Shall we go in."

"Yes, please. I'm starving," Alex replied. The three headed in and took a seat close to Stewards. That's when Micheal entered the restaurant.