They'd stopped at trucker services and then kept driving into the sunset, Reid still blindfolding but apparently dozing with his head tucked against his own chest in a way that implied he was used to sleeping in uncomfortable positions. Morgan knew his name now, and his brain had been working overtime to bring him every sordid, horrific possibility of what kind of fate he was delivering him into. He wasn't quite sure what to make of the fact the man hadn't attempted to escape. Morgan knew he was doing a good job of being menacing and threatening, even though he knew he'd have real difficulty actually hurting an unarmed person who posed no physical threat to him, even to protect his own interests.

He checked the road was clear and then leant over to the glove compartment, fishing out pack of cigarettes. He was practiced enough to light one up without looking away from the road again, tossing the pack on the dashboard. The evening air coming through the driver window was cool and dry, and stole most of the fumes away with it.

A car passed them in the opposite direction, the first Morgan had seen for an hour, and he tried to make out the model in the dwindling light. He wondered where they were going, if they were going back to a family who were safe. The temptation to call Emily and Penelope was considerable, but he knew better. The people he had a contract with were ruthless; he'd never considered how much so before, because he'd never had a job go wrong before. He hadn't even known they knew anything about him, he'd done all he could to keep his life separate.

He was distracted, and didn't notice the car approaching on the road at some speed, the same car that had passed him, that had evidently turned around and pursued. It rammed into his bumper and he swore, ash from his cigarette between his fingers jolted loose and fluttering over the steering wheel. Reid had jerked awake, and was gripping the door frame and the chair as he tried to ascertain blindfolded what was going on. They were rammed again, and he yelped.

"Shit!" Morgan hissed.

"What's happening?"

"I'll give you three guesses!"

The other car had the advantage of surprise and speed, and drew up alongside them, ramming into them. Morgan's car skidded on the road and teased along the shoulder. There was nowhere to go to outrun them, no amount of tactical driving was going to lose whoever it was.

The other car sped up, overtaking them on the dusty road. A few dozen feet in front it braked and swerved, blocking the road and forcing Morgan to slam on his breaks. He watched the road and saw two figures had stepped out of the larger vehicle, each armed with what looked like a handgun. Slowly, purposefully, he opened his door and stepped out, looking at the other men over his door. He knew it wouldn't offer much cover if they started to shoot, but it was all there was at his disposal.

"Hermes!" one called, using the pseudonym he was known on the scene by. "You've got something that belongs to our employer. Hand over the merchandise, and you can walk away and disappear."

Morgan took a long breath in, putting aside the questions he had and instead reaching for his gun in its holster behind the cover of the door, transferring it to the back of his jeans and wondering if he'd be able to reach the M16 in the duffle on his backseat before they noticed.

"Fuck," he muttered, into the silent night in the middle of nowhere, as the light faded fast.

"Hermes!" the other called.

"Come get it!" Morgan shouted, and from inside the car he heard the tiny disappointed sound from Reid, who had obviously hoped Morgan might have not gone through with his plan for him despite all insistence he would.

"Send the property out."

"It can't walk, I broke its leg."

"Bring it out."

Morgan kept his eye on the men as he crossed around the back of the car, using it as a shield. He opened the passenger door and reached inside to grab Reid roughly by the arm; Reid turned his face towards Morgan's presence, confused by the sudden dehumanising language coupled with a complete lie.

"Act like your leg is broken," Morgan whispered quickly as he hauled him out of the car. "Fight me."

As he grabbed him around the middle and moved away from the car, Reid seemed to get the idea, because he let his legs go limp and gave loud but token struggles against Morgan's hold.

"Get off me! Let me go! Please!" he screeched.

Morgan walked out in front of the car, towards the two men who were standing in suits in front of theirs, shades on even in the dying light and looking every inch like hired enforcers for someone ruthless. When he was a few dozen feet from them he stopped, shoving the struggling blindfolded man to the asphalt without ceremony, grabbing a handful of his hair to keep him still, the grip looking a lot tighter than it actually was.

"I was bringing it to the destination."

"We heard there was a problem," one of the goons said.

"Where did you hear that?"

"Hand it over."

"I expect the rest of my payment."

"Sure," the other man in shades said, a little too easily. "You'll get it."

"Good because this job hasn't-" he didn't finish the sentence, because he noticed one of them flex their hand and about to raise his gun. Morgan beat him to it, drawing his gun from the back of his jeans and unloading two shots into his chest. He practically threw Reid in one direction and himself in the other, dropping and rolling before the other could get a shot off and fired at him. It hit the man in the thigh and he went down hard, yelling in pain. He fired back at Morgan, who felt a white hot flash of pain in his side, but ignored it and fired twice; the first blew off the man's ear and left him screaming in pain, the second was better aimed and blew straight through the left side of his head, killing him instantly.

The other man, the one he'd shot in the chest, was gurgling and writhing in pain as Morgan got to his feet. There was no way he'd survive his injuries, and there was nothing to gain from letting him suffer, so Morgan sped his passing by shooting him right between the eyes.

He lifted his shirt and inspected his side; the bullet had grazed him and he was bleeding. It stung, but it didn't seem that bad.

"Reid?" he called, looking over at the man still sprawled on the road. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he called, pushing himself up. "Are they dead?"

"Yeah." Morgan took both of their guns and patted their bodies down, then went to their car to see what was in it.

"Why didn't you hand me over?" Reid said, as Morgan stepped close to him, light from both cars' headlights illuminating the road.

"They were going to kill me."

"But your friend-"

"Is gone."

"Gone?" Reid breathed.

"If they still had leverage, they wouldn't have come after me. They lost their leverage, and thought I either knew or would find out. Emily must have realised they were being watched, and fled. We have a backup plan. She knows what she's doing, she's an ex-professional."

"Professional what?"

"Just a professional."

"I don't understand the reference," Reid said.

"Professional assassin, kid."

"Oh. Right."

"She knows what she's doing." Morgan nodded to himself.

"Can I take this off now?" the other asked, reaching up to the remains of the cloth bag over his eyes.

"Don't," Morgan said, and watched as Reid hesitated and then dropped his hand.

"Why?"

"If someone else finds us again before we can both disappear, it'll probably be better for you if they assume you're my hostage still, and better for both of us if you can't identify me."

"Still your hostage?"

"Yeah," Morgan said, glancing over at the man, who for however skinny and vulnerable he looked stood an inch taller, "you can go. I can drop you at the first town we find, you can do what you want. But if you stick with me, if nobody else catches up to us, I can guarantee you disappear so they can't ever find you again."

Reid had his arms folded over his chest, his face turned towards the sound of Morgan's voice.

"What do you say, kid?"