The door to Arthur's car shut with a thud as the American began to put on his seatbelt, with that wide smile still branding his face, "so…" Arthur tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he drove out of his parking spot and onto the sleepy London street, assuming that he knew what Alfred was going to bring up. "Last night..."

"It wasn't bad," Arthur pointed out.
Arthur couldn't deny that he had a wonderful time that night; however he could no longer ignore the worry and anxiety that lingered behind him. They were attached now; tied together by their heartstrings. He let that night of magic happen before he could think logically and ask: what's going to happen when Alfred has to leave?

"Mm…" Alfred chuckled as he crossed his legs together, "I know what you're thinking, and yes; I'm worried too… as soon as we find Feli, I'm gonna have to go back to DC… but we can try and work something out, if you'd like…"

Arthur frowned and internally argued with himself: the logical thing to do would be to wish Alfred luck with his life and let him go, however, he was determined to change: he wasn't going to say goodbye so quickly, "I'm not going to give up."

Arthur heard Alfred sigh with relief before tilting his head to look out the window, "you were right about London; it's so cool! You should show me around after we find Feliciano."

Arthur couldn't help but smile as he glanced over at Alfred, watching the American gaze at every aspect of the street, watching as the car travelled further and further towards the city centre, where it truly came alive with activity and light, despite the barely present sun.

Eventually the agents strutted into the office, the agents felt confident and ready; determined to solve the crime and save the day, as they knew that no challenge was too great. That was until their demeanour shattered under Gilbert's harsh stare, his eyes striking down their confidence and leaving dread in its place. Something was wrong.

"We got another package…" Gilbert sighed, before motioning Alfred and Arthur to follow him to his desk.
Yao was standing behind Yao's chair, with his widened eyes fixated on the laptop screen with his hand over his mouth, as though he was shocked by what he had seen.

"What happened to him?" Alfred asked, the pain unintentionally breaking his voice.

"This also came with the video…" Yao muttered before he lifted his arm towards Alfred and Arthur, showing them a small piece of paper, not once breaking his stare with the laptop screen. Arthur took the paper and showed it to himself and Alfred.

It was a photo, an old one, taken with an old fashioned camera, judging by the quality and age of the photo, Arthur deducted that it must have been from a disposable camera, or at least an older model. The photo showed three figures sitting together in what looked like a large living room, with two sharing a large chair, and the other figure taking the couch. Two of the figures were adult men, whilst the third was a young child, possibly four or five.

Immediately Arthur shuddered when he registered who the faces of the adults belonged to, "Francis…" Arthur gasped as he looked at the blonde adult man; he was younger than Arthur remembered: reinforcing Arthur's ideas about the age of the photo. Francis was looking at the young child who sat in his lap, smiling as though that child was his entire world. His long and soft blonde hair bordered the Frenchman's soft face and subtle beard, and his eyes were a deep blue and narrow with content.

"Matt…" Alfred gasped as he pointed to the child who sat on Francis' lap. The young child was nearly a carbon-copy of his father; they had the same hair and the same smile. Matthew's smile was wide and his eyes were shut, as though he was laughing, revealing a set of tiny teeth. Alfred was stunned by how young Matthew was in that photo, and how much his father obviously loved him, despite the tragedy that befell them.

"Ivan…" Arthur added, referring to the third man in the photo, it was indeed Ivan who was sitting on the couch across from where Francis and Matthew sat. Ivan's arm was relaxing over the back of the couch, and his legs were crossed, as though the trio were in the middle of a discussion before the cameraman had appeared. Ivan was staring at a person behind the camera, smiling humbly, a look that shook Alfred and Arthur to their very core: these people were not the villains that they hated; in this picture they were peaceful and friendly... They couldn't cope with the image of the friend kidnapping the son, father dying at the hands of his friend to save his son or the son sacrificing himself not long afterwards… All three of the people in those pictures had dark pasts, and it was odd to see them in such a normal situation.

Arthur turned over the photo to check for anything on the back, his curiosity had paid off, as it revealed writing on the back of the photograph.
"Ivan and … blank... visiting Francis, Joan and Mathieu…" Arthur read.

"We have reason to believe that whoever took this photo and scribbled out that name, is the one who kidnapped Feliciano," Gilbert explained as he turned the laptop to face Alfred and Arthur, revealing a dark screen with a simply play button in the centre. "This is some sick way to get revenge."

Alfred and Arthur watched silently as Gilbert clicked on the play button, and the video began to play as everyone watched in silence. At first the screen was black, before the camera slowly began to focus on the figure before the camera after the light turned on, illuminating the screen. It was Feliciano, his eyes were wide, and Alfred and Arthur were relieved to see that he didn't appear to be physically hurt, his skin was fine and he wasn't bleeding, in the facial area, at least. The only change was the noticeable bags under his eyes, a noticeable sign of sleep deprivation.

It has been three weeks since our last video; we are now ready to reveal our plans. How dare you take our friend away from us. We will fulfil his wish and bring the western world to its knees. The bomb in DC was not the only thing he was working on, he had plans for London as well. We wish to introduce the greatest invention he had every created, of which we perfected in his memory. I.V.A.N. The red text wrote along the bottom of the screen, whilst a figure stepped behind Feliciano, dragging something behind her.
It was obvious from the feminine shape that the figure was a woman, she wore an entirely black fitted leather suit, like a motorcycle suit… Upon her head was a black motorcycle helmet, with the pink flower painted on the side.
Arthur shivered at the sight of gas bottles lining along the table, attached to one of these gas bottles was a gas mask. The figure lifted Feliciano's head and he spoke, staring desperately into the camera however the video had been muted so no sound came out, it was obvious that he was tied to a chair, as he was unable to fight back. She pulled the gas mask over Feliciano's face as the Italian began to panic.

I.V.A.N is a chemical wonder in the form of a gas, and now, Agent Vagaras is going to show you exactly what you're up against.

Feliciano's eyes widened with fear as the nozzle was turned, and his gas mask filled with a thick gas, forcing him to breathe it in.

Arthur felt Alfred grab his hand and grasp it tightly, struggling to keep himself composed.

Suddenly the video began to speed up time, and a timer appeared in the bottom corner of the screen, showing how much time had passed. Feliciano was rocking back and forward as he continued to breath in the gas, until the footage ended at 20:00, revealing that Feliciano had suffered through twenty minutes of exposure.

The woman in black returned and removed the mask, Feliciano was so dazed and terrified, he barely registered the movement around him. His eyes darted around the room as though it was filled with terrifying monsters he was speaking frantically.

After twenty minutes, he has been exposed more than enough to suffer the consequences. I.V.A.N is a hallucinogen, so he will be seeing things that are not there… that's not the worst thing that this gas can do.

The time-lapse continued and everyone watched as Feliciano's condition worsened throughout time, suddenly the time stopped and the noise returned as Feliciano released a terrified scream, staring at the camera as though it were about to eat him. He was panicked and moving frantically in his chair, his condition deteriorating.
As the time-lapse resumed he continued to rock and scream frantically, like an animal in a cage, until the time-lapse stopped again when the clock revealed 1:00:00. He had been like this for one hour. The Italian lunged forward and a wrenching sound filled the speakers, slowly Feliciano lifted his head, revealing a river of blood that ran down his chin.

An unexpected perk…

Feliciano had become so tired, he could barely keep on screaming, but the hallucinations would not calm down, if anything, they became worse, to the point where Feliciano was screaming and cursing in Italian: too fast and frantic for any translator to ever interpret.

Four bombs loaded with I.V.A.N have been placed throughout London, and if MI6 does not cease all action, these bombs will go off, and all of London will go down in a cloud of poisonous smoke.

Think fast, Agents…