The weather was especially cold in Paris tonight. Flame had to grab an extra scarf from the wall rack before heading out the door.

"Florence," he reminded himself. Having a human name was usually the first step towards not getting your cover as a Digimon blown. He hadn't used one for years, but today might be a good day to get back in the habit.

Florence headed out the door, and on to one of the many side alleys of France, at two 'o clock in the morning. The way that Gennai had set things up was quite convenient. The Digi-gate was in a rented garage, and he had bought the lot under a false name. All the safe houses were apartments, and were within walking distance of the garage.

Gennai should be in safe house three, Flame thought.

"Florence, damnit," Flame said to the empty air as he stomped down the alley.

Gennai, as it turned out, wasn't in Safe House Three. Florence stood at the door, having already knocked three times and recieved no response. He would try House One next. It was a fifteen minute walk through the poorly arranged streets.

Florence headed for the stairwell. No time to waste.

This time, he struck gold. There was a movement inside, and a light snapped on. With rising anticipation, Flame waitied to meet his old mentor again. After so many years, would they even recognise eachother?

As the door swung open, Flame almost began a torrent of a greeting until he saw the short, dumpy woman standing there, curlers in her hair and looking as if she had just met a sewage worker in the middle of his summer shift.

Flame wondered if the screwed-up look was normal for a woman of her stature, and had to get his thoughts back in order as she blasted him with French.

Shit, he thought to himself. He hadn't kept his French up to standard since he had last been here, and he had lost all grip.

"Sorry," he said, raising his hands. "I speak no French."

The woman gave him a look of pure contempt, and slammed the door in his face.

"Oh...kay," Flame said, turning around. A man was standing behind him, a massive grin on his face.

"Priscilla's normally like that, this time of the morning," he said. Flame just looked at him.

"Er, hi," he said, unsure of where to begin. "Who are you?"

"That witch's poor husband," he said. His voice gave him away as not being French by descent, but Flame couldn't place the accent. "Not for too long, though," he continued. "So tell me - what brings an Englishman to a Parisian door at two 'o clock in the morning?"

Flame had to process that sentence before responding. Good thing that Digimon neurons functioned about a hundred times faster than that of humans.

"I'm looking for someone that used to live here. A man by the name of 'George Constipoulous'," Flame said, hoping his Greek pronunciation was up to standard.

"Ah yes, George," the man said. "He moved out of Paris after he sold the house to us," he said. Flame's face fell.

"You look disappointed," the man noted. "Would you like me to fetch his address?"

Flame shook his head. "No thank you. That will not be necessary."

"Not even his mobile phone number? I'm sure he hasn't changed it in the two weeks since he left."

Flame looked up. "Two weeks?"

The Parisian husband nodded. "More like seventeen days, to be exact. Gave us the whole house, plus furniture at a massive discount."

Flame thought. Seventeen days ago ... Something clicked. Emergency protocol.

He looked up again. "Thank you for your time, Mr...?"

He smiled and shook his head. "No problem. Enjoy your day."

Flame walked past him, and down the street. He knew what to do next.

The man watched him go, eyes narrowed. Then he pulled out a cellphone and hit a speed dial key.

"C? ... He was just here. ... Gennai. ... Will do."

He hung up the phone, cast one last look at the house, and turned down the street, heading in the opposite direction as Flame. Soon, he disappeared beyond the street lights. The shadows obscured his transformation. And his lift-off ten seconds later.

Flame had returned to the garage. With his own key, he let himself in. And, as he had been expecting, Gennai was waiting for him.

Flame was about to greet him, when Gennai raised his finger to his lips, and beckoned Flame closer. He obeyed, unsure of what was going on.

To Gennai's right, a laptop had been set up. Gennai was pointing at it, and Flame looked.

The screen was split. On the left, there was a photo of him, talking to the Parisian man. It looked like it was taken from the upper level balcony of the house he was visiting. Gennai must have installed a camera, but why...?

Gennai shook his head, then pressed a key on the laptop. A green box centered around the stranger's face, and dragged it to the right side of the screen, where it expanded to fill the empty space.

Green crosses appeared all over the face, as it was scanned. Flame watched, still not entirely sure what was going on. Then a box popped up with the answer:

"Type: Digimon"

So the man's a Digimon in disguise? Flame looked back at Gennai, who shook his head again, and pointed at the laptop.

The man's face had been extrapolated into a 3-D model, and the computer was working at it, trying to figure out what the Digimon form looked like. All Flame saw was a profusion of green crosses and boxes.

Without warning, they stopped. A thick green line appeared at the top of the screen, and wiped down. Three seconds later, Flame was looking at a Cyberdramon.

But not just any Cyberdramon.

He looked back at Gennai, eyes wide. Gennai looked at him for a second, then moved past him, closing the laptop and putting it in a backpack. Signaling for Flame to stay silent, he went to the Digital Gate interface - a dusty-looking ancient computer terminal - and typed something.

Then he moved towards the door, beckoning Flame to follow. A few moments later, they were outside. They walked down the road, disappearing into the shadows afforded by a dumpster. There, Gennai crouched. He had a good view of the door.

Flame crouched next to him, completely hidden in the shadows. It wasn't too long before their quarry arrived. Flame looked on with interest.