Chapter 6

Danielle dozed on and off as they drove through the Swiss country side. After leaving Sana's apartment they had returned to the Land Rover Eyal had magically procured for them, immediately departing for Basel in hopes of heading Annie off - if that is where she was headed. Unable to get comfortable she sat up in the passenger seat, glancing sideways at Eyal as he drove, and then in the rearview mirror where Auggie sat slightly slumped over in a restless sleep, headphones still on and laptop open.

Danielle reached for the postcard she had set on the dash, something she had picked up at the local fuel station when they had stopped to fill up before heading out of town. She planned on writing something to Michael and the girls, though about what she was not sure, considering Auggie had told her that everything they were doing was "classified". She grabbed her purse from the floor of the Land Rover and began digging for something to write with. Annie's final postcard crossed her mind fleetingly, and again the longing to find her sister created an ache inside her chest.

"You should rest, Achoti." Eyal patronized from behind the wheel, eyes shaded by a pair of aviators, grin in place.

"Last time I checked, you're the one who hasn't slept." She replied to the Israeli, still digging through her purse in hopes of finding a pen. "Maybe I can't sleep because I'm afraid you'll doze off and run us off the road."

"So little faith." Auggie murmured from the backseat. Danielle would previously have been surprised that he'd overheard her, but she had become used to his ability to pick up on anything and everything. No whisper or minute sound escaped him. Even when asleep, apparently.

"What does Achoti even mean?" Danielle asked flippantly, distracted by her hunt for a pen, and also distracted by Auggie's previous statement. She turned and looked over her shoulder at the blind man, making sure to use her best accusatory and exasperated tone possible. "And who said I had little faith?"

"It's Hebrew for 'sister'." Eyal explained. "I did not say any such thing." He looked pointedly at Auggie in the rearview mirror.

"Coward." Auggie readjusted his position and said nothing else, his eyes remaining closed, but the telltale edges of a grin etched across his face.

Danielle shook her head, letting Auggie return to his nap, and Eyal to his driving. Having had no luck finding a pen in the bottomless, black hole that was her purse, she turned next to her pockets. She turned the peacoat pockets inside out to empty them, but she was surprised when a piece of paper, not a pen, fell out and into her lap. Not recognizing it, or remembering having put it there, Danielle inspected the folded piece of notebook paper carefully.

"What's that?" Eyal peered at Danielle and her discovery from the corner of his eye, but otherwise remaining focused on the road ahead of him.

"I'm not sure…" Danielle began to unfold the paper. Auggie was moving in the backseat again, and came to rest between both her and Eyal by balancing his forearms on the center console.

The only thing on the paper was a quickly scrawled name.

"What is it?" Auggie prodded.

"It's a piece of paper with a name written on it." Danielle narrowed her eyes and held the paper closely, trying to make out the cursive arcs and squiggles.

"Whose name?" Eyal's tone resonated with Auggie's subdued impatience.

"Justus Rist." Danielle pronounced the name tentatively as she derived it from the almost illegible cursive script. She glanced toward both men expectantly. "Does it ring a bell?"

"Joost." Auggie deadpanned. He returned to the backseat, laptop in his lap, fingers beginning to fly over the keyboard. Danielle and Eyal exchanged a brief glance of uncertainty between one another.

"Joost?" Eyal repeated skeptically.

"I'm confused, which is nothing new, I suppose." Danielle muttered. "What's a Joost?"

"Joost is an old contact of mine. He specializes in a variety of things, mainly selling small arms on the black market in Europe, and new identities for people who are willing to pay for them. " Auggie explained. "His full name is Justus Risk. I should have known she'd try something like this…" He drifted off, his own frustration with himself palpable inside the confines of the moving vehicle.

"Sana must have planted that on you when we left." The Mossad agent mused aloud. "Clever of her. But why not just tell us the name?"

"That doesn't matter right now." Auggie stated flatly. "What matters is that we're not stopping in Basel."

"Then where are we stopping?" Danielle could not help but wonder what city this wild goose chase would take them to next. Oddly enough she did not care where they went, so long as they found Annie.

Auggie grinned at Danielle, amused by how unflappable she appeared despite the circumstances. She had, thus far, proven that she was far more capable than he had previously thought at the beginning of their adventure. He'd very much underestimated her.

"Amsterdam." Auggie announced. "We're going to Amsterdam. Eyal, I trust you remember how to get there?"

The Israeli snorted, his indignation impossible to miss. "How could I forget?"

There was something nostalgic and lovely about Amsterdam during December. Even at night the city was alive, glowing, with trees and houses along the various canals dotted and decorated with lights celebrating the holiday season. The Keizersgracht, known as the Emperor's Canal, was frozen, and the laughter of the skaters that traversed its icy surface echoed through the evening. Music from the various bars and café's that lined the roads on either side of the Keizersgracht also mixed with the merrymaking. It was festive, exuberant, and indescribably beautiful.

Annie stood just outside the doors of the Pulitzers Bar, the canal behind her, clad in the newly acquired wardrobe procured with the help of her shop-lifting skills (and to the displeasure of her guilty conscience) on her arrival in Amsterdam. Black leather boots, jeans, and trench coat were offset by the pretty red scarf wound around her neck. Her hair was pulled back into a messy french braid beneath a knit brim hat, loose strands framing her face. Her arms were crossed, eyes narrowed, her indecision waging a battle inside her head.

To go in, or not to go in; that was the question. Annie shifted the messenger bag draped across her shoulder, though her discomfort could not be blamed on its contents. The bag was empty except for the cash that had belonged to it's previous owner, and a sizable donation from Sana. Annie had left the wallet where it could be found and returned. She worried her lower lip, a contemplative habit, and pulled a piece of paper where she had scribbled the address of the Pulitzers earlier from her pocket. Her thoughts briefly drifted back to Sana. Despite her initial hesitation, the older woman had agreed to help Annie, and she had also promised not to divulge any information about her whereabouts. Whether or not she would keep her promise Annie could not be sure, and perhaps that in itself was what was stopping her from walking inside.

She did not want to be found.

Annie had come to that realization when she arrived in Basel and boarded the next bus to Amsterdam. The near seven hour drive had given her plenty of time to think. Ever since she had pulled her disappearing act in Hong Kong, she had known instinctively that she wanted to remain hidden, but it had taken her until now to admit to herself that perhaps she was running from more than just the demons of the past few months. Compartmentalization was nothing more than a term used to justify sweeping emotions and traumatic events under a rug of self-imposed stoicism. After months of doing just that, her walls were finally breaking.

Images raced through her head, faces, flashes of memories long past, yet just as vivid as if she had seen them yesterday: Jai, Simon, Lena, Henry… Even though they were gone, what was it about those ghosts that refused to stop haunting her? Each had left their scars, some different from others, and it felt impossible to let go of the weight that she had carried for so long because of them.

Annie's train of thought switched gears faster than she could blink, as it often did as of late. She found herself thinking no longer of ghosts, but instead of living, breathing individuals.. Her guardian angels, who undoubtedly were looking for her at this very instant. One in particular - Auggie.

The familiar indescribable swell of emotion that lately always threatened to suffocate Annie any time August Anderson crossed her mind rose up again. She was finding it hard to shake the feeling that he was with her, no matter how hard she tried. It was not helping that being in Amsterdam was a bitter reminder of what could have been. She could still remember every detail of that day as if she were reliving it. Rescuing Eyal had been her only concern at the time, but looking back now Annie was realizing that something else had happened that she had completely missed then.

Amsterdam held so many memories. She could close her eyes and picture the boat on the canal, sitting next to him, shoulders brushing, the beginnings of a profession - or maybe confession - on the edge of his lips; the interruption by Fate's cruel sense of humor in the form of a phone call from Joan and Arthur Campbell.

Interruptions seemed to be an unfortunate pattern in her relationship with Auggie. From day one their friendship had been tested by various hurdles and obstacles. When Annie joined the CIA, she had known that her life would be complicated, and when training had failed her, Auggie had always been there to help her navigate the gray areas that were an inevitable part of a career as a spy. But despite her own resourcefulness, there was no handbook in the world that would ever be able to tell her how to deal with certain terms that proved far more complicated than espionage ever would be. Trust, honesty, integrity, loyalty, love… These were things that no amount of training on the Farm could ever prepare you to encounter.

Things no amount of training could ever prepare you to lose.

Annie took a breath, and shoving the piece of paper back inside her pocket, attempting to do the same with all thoughts of Auggie, she walked into the bar.

The dim lighting inside combined with the swanky piano Christmas jingle playing over the sound system created a very metropolitan and modern atmosphere. Annie appraised the bar where a row of high backed stools sat in alignment, couples and loners alike enjoying the evening while the local news station played on the television mounted along the far wall. She was here for one individual in particular, and it did not take long to find him.

Justus Risk, or Joost, as Auggie had called him when they were creating their ruse to steal Eyal back, was very tall. Though she had not met him in person the last time she was in Amsterdam, she recalled Auggie remarking on the Dutchman's friendly personality and sense of humor. Even now his laugh, loud and bellowing, bounced off the bar room walls. Annie took note of the empty pitcher of beer sitting on the bar top. Again she debated whether or not she should walk back out the door because, by approaching him, she was exposing herself. She had already risked it once with Sana, and risking it again only increased the odds of being discovered.

She needed his help, though, if she planned on getting any further than the Netherlands. That was what finally decided her. She approached Joost, sliding into the seat next to him.

"A shot of Patrón, alstublieft." Annie waved at the bartender, her best thousand watt smile in place, though more forced than usual even for her. "With salt."

Joost immediately took note of his new bar mate, turning away from the two gentlemen seated to his right to glance at Annie, while finishing off the last swig of his beer. At first he had simply given her a friendly smile, as he would any stranger passing through, but when he heard her order, caught her eye and noted that she did not look away, something clicked. With a quirk of his head, shaggy brunette locks in disarray, he set down his mug and turned to face her with far more curiosity than he had previously.

"Interesting choice," he remarked, fingers rapping against the bar top thoughtfully. "Do I know you?"

"We have a mutual friend." Cool and composed, Annie shifted to face him. "August Anderson."

Joost's expression brightened instantly, the proverbial light-bulb going on over his head. He sat up a little straighter, his smile broadening. "You must be Annie Walker!" He exclaimed. "I remember now, close to a year ago, Auggie came to me needing some help. He told me about you. I heard all went well with that, so what trouble has Auggie gotten into this time, eh?"

So Auggie had spoken of her. Curiosity and her subconscious pining made her want to ask the Dutchman more questions about what else Auggie might have said, but she refrained and kept her emotions in check, ignoring the little thrill of pleasure that had manifested itself

"I'm actually the one in trouble, if we have to call it that." The bartender placed Annie's shot of Patron on the bar top in front of her. She pulled it closer, leaning her left arm against the surface of the bar, feigning nonchalance.

"Is that so?" Joost, inquisitive by nature, was increasingly piqued by the alluring and mysterious woman sitting next to him. "Well then, as any friend of Auggie's is a friend of mine, what can I do?"

"I need a go pack." Annie replied quickly, voice hushed. "The works: papers, passport, identification that will get me through airport security, customs and border check points. As quickly as possible."

The Dutchman narrowed his eyes, clearly curious, but he did not prod further, for which Annie was grateful. His right index finger drew lazy circles along the rim of his empty mug as he appraised her, almost as if he were weighing his options. She tried her best not to hold her breath.

"All right,"he nodded, "But first you have to buy me a beer. Then we'll talk elsewhere. I do have to say, though, you've put in quite a tall order. May I ask why the rush?"

"It's complicated." Annie replied shortly.

"Fair enough," he accepted her answer pragmatically, but followed it up with: "Does Auggie know about this?"

"That's even more complicated."

His eyebrows quirked up at that, but Annie quickly downed her shot of Patrón, heading off any further questions.

AN: Oh Annie, when will you learn that by avoiding the complicated things, you're just making things even more complicated? What do you think readers, are the three musketeers catching up to her? Also who was the stranger watching them in Geneva? And can we really trust Joost? So many questions to be answered. Also, brownie points if you can tell me what episode Joost's character stars in on the show. ;)

Again, thank you guys for all the awesome reviews. Makes my day every time! xoxoxo