A/N: school is starting up soon so updates will be later than others but will finish. Spitfire47

To 123Anonymous: no big changes, a few new characters obviously and maybe some character alteration in the beginning... can't say much because I don't want to give anything away.

2080

The subway rumbled by, a large gust of wind accompanied it. People scrambled in and out of the cars and then once clear, the doors slowly came to a close before heading off. With the crowds lessened, Snow could see clearly, his eyes half drooped due to tiredness and his mind still working out a plan to slip underneath Langral's radar. He looked around to see very few people sitting on benches or leaned up against the posts. He looked up at the neon sign that read: Union. Snow silently cursed. He pushed himself up from against the wall and then headed out. As he was only centimetres from the exit his phone rang, it was Langral; again. Snow rejected the call he didn't feel like putting up with the prick's antics tonight.

Outside a sprinkle of rain splattered on Snow's coat. Fuck he thought to himself. He pulled his coat tighter around his body before walking home. Again his phone rang but Snow decided to ignore it. The sprinkle turned into a steady rain that quickly soaked through his coat right to his skin. He let out another curse before taking shelter in an empty doorway. Snow pulled off his coat and shook it a few times in attempts to shake out the water. His phone rang again; this was really starting to piss him off. Snow pulled out his phone and accepted the call without looking to see who it was.

"What?" he demanded.

"Cranky?" a smooth voice asked.

Snow sighed and leaned his head against the pillar. "I'm sorry."

"Langral told me what had happened."

"Ah babe you have to stop listening to that dick."

Emilie snorted. "He's my boss, so isn't quite as easy."

Snow mumbled something inaudible.

"I'm over to the office, something happened so I'll see you tomorrow okay?"

Snow nodded. "Yeah."

"Be careful okay?"

"I will, love you." Snow disconnected the connection and then let out a sigh. He looked out to see that the rain was pouring down even harder. "Fuck."

After listening to the dial tone for a few seconds, Emilie finally put the phone down on the receiver. She was worried about Snow, she noticed that he had been acting funny for about a year now ever since he had saved her from MS-One. Emilie knew that Snow had been in mourn over his friend Mace, it was natural for someone to do so, however this (in her opinion) had gone on long enough.

"Emilie."

The woman turned to see Langral standing in the doorway.

"Everything alright?"

Emilie faked a smile. "Yeah, great."

"I want to show you something. Follow."

The two walked down the hallway and entered the elevator. Langral pressed A2 and Emilie looked surprised.

"That's near basement level," she commented, her eyes immediately narrowed on Langral.

"It is," he replied shortly.

"Only the highest-."

"-ranking agents are suppose to be down there I know," Langral finished then added. "However I am to escort you to a meeting down on A2."

The elevator came to a halt and then doors opened. Immediately strips of plastic welcomed them, Langral pushed them out of the way and Emilie followed him. Voices and machines whirled around the two as they kept straight, Emilie sometimes jumped at a sudden noise and finally she asked, "What is this?"

Langral said firmly ignoring Emilie. "This way."

They made a left and immediately came face to face with a steel door, Langral typed in the password and the door opened on its own. He waved Emilie in and then walked in himself; a hiss escaped as the door resealed itself.

Snow quickly ran down another street before ducking underneath a doorway for shelter. It was a complete downpour, very few people were walking with umbrellas from their previous destinations and every taxi was filled with people. He cursed again like he had at every stop he made rubbing his hands together, slapping his coat, which now seemed completely ridiculous since the technique stopped working.

"Dammit!" Snow threw his coat down on the ground in frustration and then looked up. He saw a concert poster with some opera singer and underneath the name was the word lullaby. Snow inhaled a shaky breath as he remembered Mace's constant rambling back on MS-One and how the word 'lullaby' kept popping up every five words or so, that and the fucking password.

A couple of days after the MS-One incident Snow learned that it was Emilie who had actually found the suitcase. Curious, he asked her how she knew both location and password. Eventually Emilie spilled and once she was done telling him, he was quiet at first then started to question her which soon turned into almost an interrogation. Once Snow finally backed off Emilie tried to convince him to see a specialist but Snow shook his head refusing help.

Snow wondered how he could have been so clueless, how he missed something like that. Sure he wasn't a doctor nor did he understand or know how dementia works but he couldn't help but think that he could have done something. He remembered how both him and Emilie had gone ahead a few paces leaving Mace behind. That was the biggest fuck up he had ever made. He picked up his coat and shook it once more in anger before heading back home.

Inside the large metal room was a long oval table with leather seats, and every seat filled with six high ranking officials. As soon as Langral and Emilie entered all ten heads swerved to the entrance and waited patiently as the two stood at attention waiting.

"Emilie Warnock," the oldest high ranking official said, standing and holding out his weathered hand. Emilie took it. "Sir."

"I'm glad that you could make it and thank Langral that he could escort you down here." Langral nodded. The official farthest cleared her throat and said, "To business Ms. Warnock, we are here to discuss a dire matter with you."

"It's about your father," another official said. Emilie remained still, willing herself not to do anything. She hadn't seen her father in about three months now, despite his depleting health he was whisked away on important business, business of course which she was left out of.

"Run the footage."

The lights dimmed and a projection appeared the image was two people looking over notes. One was indeed Emilie's father while the other one was a face she was not familiar with.

"That," the female official pointed out, "is Darrian, a highly respected and important individual that we work with."

Darrian looked young, her hair covered most of her face and instead of a suit like most officials she was dressed in baggy pants and a hoodie. As they pair talked, all of a sudden Mr. Warnock collapsed. Darrian immediately knelt to his side before pressing something on her watch that had clearly set off the alarms as the screen started to blink. The footage ended there.

"Wait!" Emilie said, "what is…is that…is my father …dead?"

The high ranking officials looked at each other before looking back at Emilie. She couldn't believe it. A shiver ran down her spine and she felt like the breath had been knocked out of her. The room felt like it had shrunk drastically and her mind drew a blank while she tried to find something to say.

"I'm very sorry," the oldest of the ten said, "we all are."

"Oh my god," she whispered barely hearing the man's words.

Finally getting home, Snow threw his coat on the ground and immediately went into the living room to sit down. His hair was completely drenched in water, his clothes clung to his skin like an infant to its mother and his shoes squirted out small spurts of water with each step. Snow took off his shoes, socks and then sat back. Even that small task exhausted him briefly before he took off his shirt. His skin was slick with wetness and seemed to glisten in the light. Snow got up and walked over to the hallway closet and grabbed a towel. He dried his feet and body before heading into the kitchen. He looked in the fridge but nothing looked appetizing, he looking in the cupboards and saw nothing. With a sigh he bent down to the lowest drawer and took out a bottle of scotch. He then stood and grabbed a small shot. Snow poured himself a shot then pushed it back. His chest felt like it was on fire as the alcohol ran through his body, his mind already started to become clouded as a buzz started up. No wonder Mace liked this stuff. Snow poured himself another shot and walked down the hall to the spare room.

Inside was bare except for a few taped up boxes with large mailing stamps stuck to the sides. Snow walked up to the boxes and kicked one over, the box tilted on it's side and in large black lettering was the name: MACE. He sighed and wanted to open the boxes but never found the courage to. Snow recalled when the boxes were first brought to the house, he was pissed off because he thought that the government was doing this to him until he learned from Emilie that Mace had actually written a will and that all his belongings to go to Snow. That was the punchline.

Walking out of the room his cell phone rang out once more and Snow wanted to smash the device to pieces but he sighed giving in and answered.

"Marion Snow?"

Snow immediately knew that whoever was calling was definitely government. Everyone he had encountered on the outside he introduced himself as Snow, ignoring his female first name completely. However in the CIA those things didn't slide.

"You remember me don't you?"

Snow had encountered numerous CIA agents and other government staff during his years of duty before being disgracefully discharged. The voice was slightly familiar, it was deep and filled with a chilled calmness that is usually heard from in many CIA agents including Snow himself.

"Agent Pallan, CIA for 15 years division 1376-AF head of the defense department."

Snow's eyes widened as the agent recalled his serial division. The name definitely brought back memories but the division number was just to brag about Pallan's success. Pallan was known for bragging. Snow tried to recall his face; grey eyes, squarish face, a bit of a stubble and a full head of blond hair.

"I've heard that you've been doing odd jobs for us," Pallan continued, "when I learned of this I realized that I could possibly put your...skills to work for my department. Are you interested?"

"That depends," Snow answered walking into the living room.

"We are running a program and we need your help with the...volunteers."

Already Snow didn't like where this was going.

"I'm going to need a bit more than that."

"You are to report tomorrow morning 10am sharp at the Defense Department Headquarters, there will be a tag there for you already just tell them your name. From there you will be escorted to A1, basement level, and I will be awaiting your arrival."

Snow took in a breath. "What if I say no?"

"We're not asking," Pallan said cooly, "you will take this job Snow."

Snow narrowed his eyes, he didn't like the sound of Pallan's voice, however he never liked Pallan in general. He was ready to speak when Pallan ended the conversation and Snow ended his line too. Pallan. Marcel David Pallan. Snow had known Pallan ever since his first day of working for the CIA. Mace had even known him and even was a target for a few of Pallan's pranks. Snow and Pallan had even gotten into a full- out- no- bar -hold brawl in the coffee room one time when Snow had found out that one of Pallan's tricks had landed Mace in the hospital with three broken ribs.

Snow was ready to turn in when the phone rang out again, but it was a single beep indicating a message being downloaded into his drive. He opened it and immediately noticed the division code at the top and the department name. D.C:473G1 Department of Security. He opened the file and then read the single sentence.

Died 5:22 pm last night working, funeral is tomorrow. Emilie.

Snow didn't need to be told who Emilie was talking about, he knew exactly. This was going to be a long night.