“I have to talk to you, Chris Alan.” Christina began to walk as she placed her hands behind her back in military fashion.

“What about? I hope you don’t mind Autumn walking with us?”

“Not at all. Autumn, as you can see I’m from Fleet Intelligence, but I’m a legal attaché in that department, not an analyst or a field agent. I’m here because Chris Alan’s a field agent – after a fashion – and I need the help of a field agent on this one.”

“Well, Alan’s all that and more,” Autumn said nodding.

“You look troubled, Tina.” Chris Alan was one of the few who could use Christina’s pet name.

“I *am* troubled. I have a mission, Top Secret Level Five – but I don’t feel comfortable carrying it out. I requested that you accompany me; you have a history and may know the lay of the land better.”

“How humble of you to think of me. Usually you just wing it,” Chris Alan joked with her.

“Can’t wing this one, Chris Alan. Not even I’m that lucky. And you notoriously are.”

“Funny how that goes, isn’t it?”

“You said Alan had a history? What did you mean?” Autumn asked.

“Ever heard of Edwin Bitterroot?” Christina probed.

“*Heard* of him? He’s been a pain in our sides for months,” Autumn replied. “And vice versa,” she added with a laugh.

“Well, you may have to tangle with him yet again. My mission involves him, and despite Raphael’s excellent report to the Department, I don’t know a flying fart about him compared to Chris Alan – not where it counts. In fact, he has more experience with him than any living person in the Realm. Edwin’s such a slippery snake, I just don’t want to mess this up; a lot of people want him gone.”

“‘Gone’? Explain ‘gone’.” It was Chris Alan’s turn to probe.

“You know, dead, history, paying for all his sins. Justice, Chris Alan, justice.” Christina was becoming livid.