Chapter 2

With a sigh of contempt, Luther set down the paper-cup of overpriced, but at least somewhat good airport-coffee next to his laptop computer. While he had been getting his coffee, his computer had booted up, so he was now ready to work. He didn't mind the little distraction, even though he was on leave, in fact, he actually welcomed it. There was not much he could do, being stuck for the next two hours in Paris of all places, while he was waiting for his connecting flight. Not that it was much of an effort for him to hack into the airport's relatively insecure Wi-Fi network, but it was always good to stay in training. Besides for him, it was the easiest and quickest way to gain internet access.

Of course there were other, more legal ways to achieve that, too, and usually, Luther wouldn't have bothered to hold himself up with this child's play, but he really wanted to know what was the deal with the message his phone had received right after he had come off the plane. And for that, he needed to get into the IMF database, which in the airport he could only do over the worldwide web. The message had been a computer-generated compilation of letters and numbers, the pattern of which looked like what happened when someone sent an encrypted message on a channel that did not exist, or not anymore. Of course, this could have been a mistake, those happened even in the IMF, but the fact that the message had turned up on Luther's phone suggested that there was someone in trouble.

If that was the case, then time was of the essence, which was why he wanted to find out who sent it and why, as quickly as possible. Impatiently the agent drummed his fingers on the café table, while the network was loading, and tried to push away the increasingly grim scenarios that were involuntarily generated by his mind. Once he was past the identification screen, his fingers were on autopilot, navigating through the database. He knew what he was looking for and where to find it, so it didn't take him long until he found the data that was subject of his search. When he had, he took a second, just to lean back and stare. "You got to be kidding me," he murmured subconsciously, reaching for his phone.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Benji had first noticed the man as he was crossing Leicester Square towards Oxford Street. Back then he had ignored the man in the long, black coat, scolding himself for his paranoia, but by now he was sure that there was someone following him. Even in the busy shopping-lane of Oxford Street, where the thickness of the crowd seemed to be amplified by the approaching Christmas time, every time he turned around, the man was behind him, even inside shops. Of course, there always remained a little bit of doubt that, maybe, he was only imagining it, interpreting something. But if he did have a shadow, the last thing he wanted to do was to drag him back to the flat. And as he had no backup he could call for help, there was only one way to get rid of him.

As soon as the next chance came up, he went into a small alleyway, but instead of walking it all the way down, he stopped a few paces in and turned around to see whoever would follow behind him, without being seen from the broad street. If he really had a tail, the man would have to follow him sooner or later or risk losing his trace.

For a moment it occurred to him that he was completely unarmed, but then again he was on leave and most likely there would be a good, easy explanation for all of this. Besides, there also was a good chance that there was no one following him at all, and so he was making himself comfortable. He expected it to be a rather long and pointless wait, but soon after he had entered the small street, the man in the black coat suddenly stood right in front of him.

"Looking for something?" Benji asked overly friendly, leaning against a wall, arms crossed. His tail was about 5'8'', thin, pale, with short dark red hair and his hands hidden in the pockets of his long coat, and seemed only slightly surprised and not overly shocked at being discovered. In fact, he was quite calm, maybe a little too calm, the agent thought, and the idea made him shiver.

"You are more intelligent than might be good for you, Mr. Dunn," said the man with a predator-like smile that made Benji's skin itch. With triumphant eyes, he nodded at something behind the blond man. "Too bad for you."

With a slight feeling of panic rising inside him, Benji noticed the sound of heavy footsteps approaching from the other end of the alleyway. Although he knew he probably shouldn't, he couldn't resist turning around and saw three more men coming at him from the far end of the street. They were dressed equally dark as their leader, however somewhat more impressive in size and build.

Although they were still at the opposite corner, he could see their half-drawn guns underneath their open jackets. The long distance between them and him wouldn't help him much, especially as behind him he heard the typical clicking noise of a demonstratively loaded gun, and the man's voice saying: "Please don't try to do anything smart, I don't want to be the one who has to clean up the pieces."

In retrospect, what Benji did then was anything but smart, however, in his defense, he hadn't had time to think about it properly. Turning on the spot, he took a long swing with his right and smashed it straight into the man's face. With a tiny bit of satisfaction, he felt something underneath his knuckles break, but he didn't look back to see the damage he had done. The bellowing sound of gunshots echoed through the alley behind him, as he raced out onto the business-street. But he didn't care, he simply ran.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"And did I mention Brandt has a girlfriend now?" Ethan asked rhetorically.

The woman sitting across from him laughed, and he watched, absentmindedly twirling the spaghetti around his fork. She had a beautiful laugh, light and melodic, lighting up her shining eyes and making the soft, brown fringe at the edge of her face shake. "Really?" she asked back in between laughs. "I always thought he's married to his work."

"Hard to believe, isn't it?" he smiled back dreamily. Moments like this were what made it all worthwhile. Being away for weeks, even months, it didn't matter as long as he could come back to see Julia smile and hear her laugh at his stories, and he enjoyed every moment of it.

Until his phone rang. It was not a shrill ring-tone, nor very loud, and he might easily have overheard the low hum, but the fact was that he hadn't. Scolding himself for not having put it on silent, he pulled it out, ready to push away whoever was calling. But when he saw who it was, he thought again. It was not IMF headquarters, but Luther, and as they all were on leave he wouldn't be calling if it wasn't important. With a sigh and an apologizing glance to Julia, he accepted. "Yes?"

"Ethan?" Luther asked, yet didn't wait for the other agent's confirmation, but came right to the point: "We've got a situation."

So much for vacation, Ethan thought, but calmly, yet curtly, asked: "What kind?"

"Holt used the panic button," Luther replied. Involuntarily Ethan raised an eyebrow. As far as he knew, Skye was supposed to be with Benji, so if something had happened to her, whatever it was most likely had happened to him, too. However, they both were well trained and experienced agents and on vacation, so he couldn't imagine what would make them do something as desperate as this. Surely this had to be a mistake. "Have you tried to call her?"

"Yes, and Benji, too. But I haven't been able to reach either of them," Luther said and there was an edge of worry in his voice. Someone else might have missed it, but it instantly projected onto Ethan. He tried to hide it from Julia, but his wife knew him far too well to miss the minute changes in his expression.

"I've called headquarters," Luther went on when Ethan remained silent. "Hunley said we are the only free agents in the area. He can organize us some backup, but all of that takes time, so he'd rather we find out what's going on before he'll send in the cavalry. I haven't reached Brandt yet, but I'll keep trying. I've got a hunch he might join the party."

"Alright," Ethan acknowledged and nodded slightly. He sincerely hoped, Luther would be successful. Although the Chief Analyst had decided to more or less stick to his desk job, he still retained the qualities of a top agent, something that was often overlooked. Should they encounter any trouble, it would make their job somewhat easier to have him around. "I'll see you there," he ended the conversation before he hung up and turned back to Julia.

"I know I promised..." he started, but she interrupted him.

"A mission?" she asked and there was neither disappointment nor accusation in her voice, only genuine interest.

He shook his head. "No, it's an emergency," he explained, knowing that she would understand. "We don't know what's going on. It might be nothing, but we can't be sure until we've had a look."

"Then you should go," she said softly, and steadily met his gaze. They both knew that neither of them would be sleeping well if he didn't.

As he stood up, Ethan took the few steps around the table and softly kissed her good-bye. It was on occasions like this that he knew he had married the best wife he could possibly have. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he said.

"Just make sure you all come back in one piece," she replied, her voice hardly above a whisper now. The concern stood visibly in her eyes and it did little when she jokingly added: "I've got three weeks of vacation and I'd like to keep it that way."

"I will," Ethan promised with a confident smile, although they both knew that this was a promise he might not be able to keep.