A/N: Every so often, a longer story requires a transitional chapter between acts. This is one of those. Bits and pieces and other important business. Chapter 39. . . the games begin.

Thank you again for all of you honest and direct feedback for the last few chapters. Rather than Team Edward vs. Team Jacob, this fic seems to have developed a Team Bella vs. Team Masen division, with a handful of you hangin' out in Switzerland. LOL I love it.

He wasn't all-knowing. He wasn't infallible. Bella was undergoing a paradigm shift of tectonic proportions. One plate dove under and disintegrated, while the other splintered and reared up into jagged peaks. The faultline buckled and snapped, shaking her insides in a seismic convulsion that left her quaking and gripping the edges of her seat for balance.

Two and half weeks in, and she still hadn't faced the actual risks of her position. She thought that she had, but until now she hadn't fully assimilated what it would be like to sit helplessly in the clutches of pure evil. She had considered it academically. Experienced the repulsive touch of Malcolm Delancy for a brief moment. But this new fear sank deep, deep into the marrow of her bones. Deep into that dark place within the psyche from which nightmares are born.

To make it worse, she knew now that she wouldn't be able to depend on Masen to protect her. Oh, he would do his best. His formidable best. But he was only one man. He was just a man. Her safety, her sanity, were going to be dangling on the thread of the Volturi head's dedication to hospitality, the professional respect he accorded to a fellow criminal. From where she sat, it looked like a very thin thread.

Bella adjusted the vents to blast cool air on her face, closed her eyes and waited for the tears to dry. The air conditioner did the trick, but her skin felt dry and brittle. Her face was numb.

Several minutes later, she jumped when Masen tapped on the driver's side window. He opened the door carefully and climbed in. His movements were stiff. Slow. Cautious. Bella caught her lower lip between her teeth and waited.

When he spoke, his voice was flint and gravel, full of rough-edged regret. "I know that it's completely inadequate, but I want you to know I'm sorry. For everything that happened this morning. And for just now. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay."

"No. It's not. None of this is okay."

Masen flattened his hands across the center of the steering wheel and stared at them. Bella saw how red and swollen his right hand was, the knuckles skinned and bleeding. There were dents and cracks in the dashboard where he had struck it. She clamped her lips together to stop herself from saying anything.

"This is new to me," Masen continued pensively. "This complete immersion in another operative's thoughts and feelings. It requires communication skills that are completely foreign to me. I've never worked with a partner before. Unless you count Peter, and we all know how that ended."

"I really don't. . ." Bella reminded him.

"What I mean is, I'm not used to leaning on another agent. Not like this. I'm not just accountable for you. I'm accountable to you. On top of that, I. . . I feel very protective of you. Taking you into that place goes against every instinct inside of me. Putting you at their mercy. . . it's abhorrent. Today I realized that I have to trust you to be strong enough to withstand everything we will see and experience in there. It's the only way." He turned to look at her. "I do trust you. You're a remarkable woman."

Bella blushed self-consciously. It was the most direct praise he had ever given her. "I trust you, too. I know that you will do everything in your power to-"

"I wasn't finished."

"Oh. Sorry. . ."

"Don't be. It's alright. I. . ." Masen rubbed his mouth as he searched for the right words, his fingers rasping over his cheeks and jaw. "Ms. Swan, I need you to promise me something."

"Anything," Bella said fervently, looking him full in the face.

Masen removed his glasses, looked down and massaged the bridge of his nose where they had left twin pink impressions. He exhaled in a rush and looked up again, his eyes sparking with an intensity that left her breathless.

"If anything happens to me, anything at all, I want you to get out. Don't stop. Don't look back. I don't care who or what you have to break, maim or kill. You are more help to those kids alive and free than trapped in that hellhole with them. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," she agreed, trembling.

"Promise me."

"I swear. If anything happens to you, I'll find a way out. No matter what it takes."

His eyes searched hers, darting back and forth rapidly between them. Finally, he nodded, apparently satisfied with what he saw.

"We'll check out of the hotel in the morning," Masen said decisively.

He replaced his glasses, put the car in gear and pulled out of the mall parking lot. They navigated through the city streets, taking a wandering route to the north until they came across a park with a public restroom she could use. Neither of them had picked up signs of a tail, but Bella felt vulnerable out in the open. It was a relief to get back in the car again, safe behind tinted glass.

"It's our last day. Wanna eat out?" Masen asked as she buckled her seatbelt. His serious tone had evaporated. He was smiling again, and his shoulders were relaxed.

"If our rooms are bugged, I think I would prefer that," she replied hesitantly, trying to shake her own melancholy mood.

"Great. Let's find some Mexican food. I feel like an enchilada."

"That's funny. You don't look like one," Bella joked, intentionally stepping back into their signature light-hearted banter. It felt forced, but time was short. She didn't want to miss out on their last hours together as friends.

"Well, aren't you original. Like I've never heard that one before," Masen groaned.

"At your age? I'm not surprised. I'm sure it's been around the block quite a few times."

"That's right, rookie. And I'll make sure to order your food with extra green chiles and a large bowl of salsa verde on the side."

"You may want to ask if they can cut your food up real small. Make it easier to chew," Bella shot back.

"There is nothing wrong with my teeth," Masen laughed, snapping his teeth at her.

"Be careful. Remember what happened to the big bad wolf."

"I'll make sure to steer clear of grandmas and deep water. Ahh, yes! This place looks promising," he grinned, pulling into a tiny parking lot beside a rundown, yellow stucco building.

"Promising? It looks like a dump!"

"Exactly. So you know the food will be awesome."

"Your logic defies reason."

"My logic is sound. What do you want? Tacos, burrito, chile relleno. . ."

"How about a chile relleno and an enchilada. Chicken. No ground meat. I want to know what I'm eating."

"Oh, ye of little faith. Hang tight, kid. I'll be right back." He rolled down the windows, tossed her the keys and shut the door.

"Kid?" Bella muttered. "That doesn't sound like trust or confidence to me." But she couldn't help the wistful smile that crept across her face.

They ate their lunch parked in a tiny lot behind a three-story walk-up. Bella scrutinized the first few bites carefully, but Masen's prediction turned out to be accurate. The food was delicious. Authentic, spicy, and full of fresh flavors.

"What next?" Bella asked between bites.

"I'm going to pester Delancy about my offer. The seller hasn't accepted or countered yet. Then we have to pack up. Gotta cancel our dinner plans for tomorrow, too, but I was going to do that anyway."

"Your offer of private entertainment was a bluff?"

"Of course. Even if I did know a couple of hookers in the area, I would never subject them to that kind of filth."

"Wait a minute, you would actually hire a prostitute?"

"Not for me, no," he shrugged. He paused, taking in her shocked expression. "Oh, I see. You're one of those women who thinks that prostitution is victimizing women no matter what, aren't you?"

"Excuse me? Those women? Isn't that what we're fighting? The sex trade is all about turning people into victims," Bella protested hotly.

"I won't deny that the industry is rife with crime and corruption, but not every prostitute is there against his or her will. Some are savvy entrepreneurs. Supply and demand. It's the oldest profession, because the demand never goes away. It doesn't matter how bad the economy gets, men will always find money for sex and booze, if that's where their interests lie. You want job security? It's not a bad way to go."

"You're just saying this to shock me, aren't you. You think this is funny."

"You're funny. Yes. You get all scowly and indignant when you're angry. It's kind of hilarious."

Bella narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms, her half-finished food forgotten in her lap.

"Okay, fine. Let's back up. I don't support prostitution as a general rule. I think that far too many women and girls fall into it because they don't see any other way to support themselves. Even worse, thousands of people are forced into it against their will, either because of chemical addiction, or by individuals like the Volturi's clientele who just see a girl's body as a commodity to exploit. But I'm not about to step in and tell a smart, educated, grounded woman who knows her own mind, has goals, and understands the risks and rewards, that she can't build a business on what she does best. See? I'm a feminist, too," he concluded with a smirk.

"You actually know somebody like that," Bella said, disbelieving.

"Yep. One of my closest friends in D.C. is an escort."

"You have friends?"

"Ouch," Masen said with a bemused smile.

"No! That's not what I meant. That totally came out wrong."

"Actually, I think it came out exactly right. You think I'm closed off and isolated. You're not incorrect. Look, Miss Swan, I know we've been thrown together for this mission. I know we've only been at this for a few weeks. Not even. The truth is, we hardly know each other at all. I've lived a hundred lives, and you're barely starting out. But in all the ways that count, I know we are the perfect team. To be perfectly honest, I'm a little jealous of you. Your compassion, empathy and idealism are invaluable. Everything we discussed on the first day, all the ways your position as Marie can open doors and reveal hidden elements the Volturi's operations, all the things you will learn from the other victims that couldn't possibly discover, those details are going to be the backbone of our case."

"You're not just blowing smoke to make me feel better?"

"When have I ever?"

"Point taken." Bella picked at her food before continuing. The conversation had taken an unexpected turn. Now she felt more distant from her partner than she had since their first week together. She didn't like it. "And you're actually friends with a prostitute."

"Still stuck on that, huh? She prefers the term escort. Kate's an excellent asset. You wouldn't believe the things she sees and hears. When we get done with this, I'll introduce you."

"Cool," Bella mumbled. For some reason, she didn't feel any enthusiasm about the proposed introduction. Asset or not, the idea of willingly trading sex for anything other than honest affection was off putting. Wasn't it still feeding the system that enabled organizations like the Volturi to operate?

"While we're on the subject of free will, I think-"

"Is that what we were talking about?" Bella asked, giving him a quizzical look.

"Sure. Among other things. I need to show you how to work that collar."

Bella flinched back from his hands, holding her plastic fork like a weapon. "If you shock me while I'm eating. . ." she threatened.

"Chill out. Here," he took her food and set it on the dashboard. He had already finished his meal. "Give me your hands. You need to be able to take this thing off if the shit hits the fan."

Bella reluctantly allowed him to guide her hands back to the clasp of her choker.

"Feel this?" Masen asked, running her right pointer finger over a round metal protrusion.

"Yeah."

"You're going to push down on this and, at the same time, squeeze these bumps above and below the second link. No, that's the third. This one."

Bella fumbled a bit at first. The metal was damp with her sweat and it was hard to visualize what she was feeling. Every link felt identical. When the clasp popped open on her third try, she gasped in relief. The necklace slipped heavily into Masen's waiting hand, and he watched her rubbing her neck with a half smile on his lips.

"Feels good?"

"So good," Bella said, cupping her hands around her neck, revelling in the smooth feeling of skin on skin. "God, I hate that thing."

"Yeah. Me, too."

He handed her the necklace and gestured for her to put it back on. Bella gritted her teeth and wrapped it back around her neck. It was almost as hard to put on as it was to take off. The tiny buttons barely moved, so it was difficult to tell when she had the correct spots. They were cleverly hidden amid the other ornamental details.

"See? Once it's off, only somebody who knows how it works can put it back on. Try again. Until it's automatic."

Bella followed his instructions, taking it off and putting it back on several times.

"Nice. Now, let's see. . . It's a little after 1 o'clock. I'm going to give Delancy a call then check in with Mahardy to let him know what we've got going on."

Bella nodded, reclaimed her lunch and ate quietly as he turned on his impatient, domineering alter ego to speak with the realtor.

Masen popped his neck and yawned loudly once he hung up a few minutes later. "God, that man is such a tool."

"That's one way of putting it."

"Let's see if Mahardy's around. I'm gonna put the phone on speaker. Feel free to jump in at any time."

The first time he called, it went straight through to voicemail. Masen hung up and dialed again.

"Mahardy here."

"Hey, Rick. Got a minute?"

"Anything that gives me an excuse to stand outside. I took the afternoon off because the wife is always complaining that I work too much. Well, here I am, and she's sitting on the sofa watching soap operas. Apparently I'm supposed to schedule my time off around her TV programming. I never got that memo."

"Still happily married, I see."

"Yeah. Right. The honeymoon never started with this one. . . So, what's your status?"

"We're in. Things are moving along even faster than we had hoped. The Volturi sent a messenger directly to our rooms with an invitation to stay in their compound. Well, they call it a villa, but it's probably got barbed wire and landmines. I'll send you a full report before close of business, but I wanted to give you a heads up that updates may be sporadic for the next little while."

"Wow. That is good news. I'm impressed. How's Agent Swan handling it all?"

"Hanging in there, sir," Bella responded.

"Oh. Didn't realize I was on speaker phone."

"Don't worry, Rick. She's not gonna tattle on you to the wife."

"Don't be a dick, Masen. Give me the play by play in an email. I'll need to read in the local SAC as soon as possible. I don't feel right about you having no back up."

"Rick, we talked about this. You know what Agent Filipovna thinks about it. I would feel safer if it was just the four of us for now. At least until we've got a better idea of how wide and deep this river runs. It looks bad enough on the surface. Who knows what's lurking underneath."

"I hate it. I really hate it. But I'm going to trust you on this one. For now. Next time you get a chance to call me, we'll revisit this and see if we shouldn't call on some additional resources."

"Thanks, Rick. That'll help me sleep a lot easier at night."

"Anything else?"

"Naw. That's it for now. I don't want to keep you from your soaps."

Mahardy groaned, "I'm never taking time off again. Okay, you two. Good luck."

"Thank you, sir," Bella said.

"Thanks, man," Agent Masen added, then hung up. "You feeling okay?"

"Surprisingly enough, yeah," Bella replied. "Talking to Special Agent Mahardy put a lot of things back in perspective for me."

"I'm glad. Ready to head back?"

"We're not going to be able to talk or anything, are we?"

"Not for real, no. And now that we know Demetri has access to a housekeeping key, it's probably best if we keep the cover story rolling through the night. Think of it as a dress rehearsal."

"On a stage with unmarked trap doors," Bella added, looking out the window as they passed yet another golf course.

"You won't fall. I won't let you."

A/N: Would you feel safer with a small, hand-picked team or an army? I sometimes wonder if Agent Masen's inability to trust others is a boon or a liability. I guess we'll see.