The boy turned and smiled when he recognized her. "Of course. However, I do not believe we were properly introduced at the park."

"We weren't. I'm Rachel Lee."

"And I am Vladimir Dalca."

Jordan got up and met them, though he knew full well that Rachel hardly wanted him to meet her new friend. "Hey Rachel who's your friend?" he asked.

"Oh, this is Vladimir. Vladimir this is my boyfriend Jordan."

"It is a pleasure to meet you Jordan. Do you by chance go to Both.e.l.l High School too?" asked the pale boy.

"Yep..." he paused for a brief moment before he asked what it was like in Rome.

Vladimir expressed a puzzled look and admitted he had never been to Rome.

"I thought that was where you were from."

"No, I hail from Romania," he corrected him. Vladimir glanced away and admitted how confusing the two could be. "What year are you in Jordan?"

He answered that he was a senior but quickly asked in turn if Vladimir was unsettled by the advanced society they lived in. Vladimir told him Romania was not a third world nation and persisted in leaving Jordan's query unanswered.

Rachel changed the subject, "So what are you doing here?"

"I am actually here to meet someone, though it seems I might have arrived somewhat early." Vladimir chuckled, "He is hardly as prompt as I would prefer him to be, but he does lead a very preoccupied existence, and as such I am forced to abide by his schedule and not my own."

Jordan failed to take an interest in the Romanian boy's reasons and ignored him. Rachel asked who Vladimir was going to meet, but Jordan intervened before he could answer, "Who's an exchange student got to chat with? I mean, how many others joined you and came here exactly?"

Vladimir studied Jordan and feigned a smile. He glanced away for but a moment before he said, "I would love to stay and chat, however it seems my friend has arrived and would not want to keep him waiting or to trouble either of you any further. Rachel," he paused for a moment to meet her eyes, "It was a pleasure to see you again and to become acquainted with you once more. I hope to see you again."

The Romanian left the couple and heard the faint bickering between the two as he walked away. He let out a sigh and within a moment heard a voice say, "You're not making too many friends, are you Vladimir?"

The young man grinned and reminded his friend that he never intended on fellowshipping in the first place. He turned and discovered a strapping Russian approximately his age. "h.e.l.lo Pyotr."

The Russian's face was distinguished, accompanied by his short blonde hair. He had cool blue eyes and a warm smile that balanced out his intimidating size. Pyotr greeted his friend, "I have already got our drinks and a table that's close to the front if you don't mind. Y'know, old habits."

Vladimir joined his friend at the table where two ice waters rested. Pyotr sat with the line of customers before him and Vladimir was seated with the crowd to his back. They sat in unison and once the pair was comfortable, Pyotr initiated their conversation, "How has your stay been here in the Pacific Northwest so far?"

Vladimir watched his companion as he stirred the water with a small black stirring straw. "It is fine, just like everywhere else we have seen over the years. I am sorry to say nothing impresses me as it once did."

Pyotr kept his focus on the water and told his friend to have more patience. "This isn't meant as punishment, though I can see how it might appear as such. But nonetheless, tell me how you find this great nation. You haven't been here in quite some time I recall."

Vladimir stated that it hadn't changed much. "People are the same, yet that is true everywhere. Though what I found odd recently was an unsettling change in the weather. Last week it was quite lovely and a fierce storm came up out of nowhere."

Pyotr stopped stirring his drink for a moment to tell his friend to put it out of his mind. "The origin of it is known to me and that is really all you need to concern yourself with."

He scrutinized Pyotr's words quietly. "You never give an honest and forthright answer, do you?"

"I do not agree Vladimir," he said with a smile, "I have told you already, I am appraised to it and that ends the matter."

The Romanian looked away and muttered that it hardly concluded the subject in his mind. "Why is it, Pyotr, that you must always behave as if I am a mere p.a.w.n?"

"Perhaps that is all we both are my friend."

Vladimir did not smile. "Do not toy with me Pyotr. You have not ever informed me appropriately about our goals, often times not even after events have panned out." Pyotr frowned and apologized but Vladimir continued, "A prime example I would remind you of is how you happened to encounter Jacqueline who neither of us had seen in years, and the end result of that spat between the two of you only came to me when I last spoke with Serenity, months before her pa.s.sing."

Pyotr stopped him and with a great sigh told him he recalled his complaint. "I have heard this before and I have already apologized, my friend, but this matter does not concern us. And please, allow me to simply repeat this: we all have our roles here in this world. This storm has its purpose as well. I know of it and that is all that is important. So please Vladimir, put it out of your mind."

Vladimir relented but hastily mentioned the effort he already took in investigating the phenomena. "At the very least we know we're more or less alone here."

"Well I would thank you for your work but seeing as I knew that already, though I am not sure we will be without company for too long..." Pyotr trailed off suddenly once he noticed the line at the register was gone. Pyotr sat silently for a moment before he sat up and asked Vladimir, "Do you have a couple of dollars that I could borrow? I need a drink."

Puzzled, he asked, "Today is Sunday. I thought you did not purchase anything on this day,"

"I don't. However I believe the Lord will forgive me for one peppermint hot cocoa on this day," he told the pale boy.

He handed Pyotr the money and muttered, "He's your Lord."

"He's yours as well," Pyotr told him. Vladimir didn't respond, so Pyotr went and ordered his drink and promptly returned to the table. "They told me it would be a minute or two and they would have a young girl bring it out to me," he informed Vladimir.

Vladimir didn't have to turn to know who he meant. "What have you planned, Pyotr?" he asked.

"It isn't my plan..." he smirked. "How is your water?" he asked and changed the subject.

Vladimir had left the water untouched since his arrival. "It's fine, aside from the ice."

Pyotr apologized. "I asked them for one with ice and the other without, but I guess they only heard ice."

"It's fine."

"Don't lie."

"Hm?"

"Your school begins in two weeks, doesn't it?" he asked quickly to change the subject again.

Vladimir looked away from him and told his friend it did. "And I already know how droll this school year will be, thanks to you."

"Well don't give it too much thought." He chuckled to himself, "It isn't as if it will truly matter."

"Yes, and I am still unsure why this is at all necessary," Vladimir told him.

Pyotr and Vladimir left a pause in their conversation as Rachel arrived with Pyotr's beverage.

"Here you go," she said as she set the drink in front of him. She noticed that Vladimir was with the customer and asked, "Vladimir, is this your friend?"

"Oh I am his host brother Pyotr," he introduced himself. "How do you two know each other?" he asked Vladimir.

"This is Rachel, I met her at a park last week, right before the storm," he stated flatly, his eyes level with Pyotr's. Pyotr only smiled.

"Is there anything else I can get for you guys?" she asked.

"No I do not believe there is anything, is there Pyotr?" Vladimir asked.

"No, nothing," he answered. Rachel turned to leave but was stopped when Pyotr noticed her bracelet, he asked, "Where did you find that interesting bracelet?"

The question caught her off guard. She reached for it with her other hand without thinking and said, "It's been in my family for a long time. My mother gave it to me before she died when I was twelve and from what I understand her mother had it before her," she explained.

"I am sorry about your mother Rachel," Vladimir told her.

"How do you remove it? The band is so small." Pyotr asked as he leaned toward her, his eyes locked on the object.

"Well you just press the hooks together here," she indicated to the underside of the bracelet, "And the right side of the band swings out," she demonstrated. She handed them the bracelet, which was a silver band with two curved, thin bands that hooked together. There was also a small thin emerald in the front of the bracelet. "The inner side of the two bands has an engraving in it," she told them.

"What does it say?" Pyotr asked her, as he a.n.a.lyzed the object.

She shrugged. "My aunt told me it means something about finding true love, though I'm not sure she knew herself." Rachel glanced back at the front counter and told them that she needed to return to work. Pyotr returned the bracelet and they bid her farewell.

Both Vladimir and Pyotr sat in silence while Pyotr enjoyed his drink. Once Pyotr finished his beverage, he regretted how late it was. "We need to have these gatherings more often."

Vladimir studied him. "What are you plotting?"

He shook his head. "Again," he said, "This isn't my plan."

"Alright, fine," Vladimir scowled, "What do you know then?"

Pyotr became solemn. He frowned and said, "We're running out of time Vladimir."

"I'm aware of that."

Pyotr shook his head, "No, you're not." He locked eyes with the Romanian and told him, "We need to move swiftly and tread lightly in our matters."

Vladimir looked cross. "I would if I knew precisely why we are here."

Pyotr walked past him and murmured, "In due time my friend."

Vladimir stopped him and said to his friend, "You continue to say that I will soon understand all of this though you are obviously keeping something from me. I would rather know all you do when we run into the next obstacle, rather than walk into something I am not apprised to."

Pyotr let out a small breath and told his ally, "If I could stay here and reveal all to you I would, however we are both painfully aware of how pressed for time I am, and seeing as I am already late for many other meetings, I cannot shed light on anymore."

Vladimir cursed and asked, "How much longer do you plan to evade me?"

He smirked once more. "As long as it takes for you to realize what this is all about."

Pyotr then left the building with his friend close behind. They departed in opposite directions and within moments were completely out of reach of the Calming Wake.

3:22 PM.

London, England Jason's office wasn't anything special by any stretch of the word. He did have a window and the office was completely his, but it was hardly four square meters in all. In fact, he wasn't ever sure how they managed to fit his rather large desk where it was. There were days where he felt claustrophobic and needed to get out and find fresh air, but he generally had resolve enough to ignore it and the towers of paper all around him.

His office wasn't glamorous either. All that decorated the s.p.a.ce was a picture of Audrey and himself from before their wedding, a mug she'd given him for the past year's Valentine's Day, a pen holder, stapler, tape dispenser, his computer, and a wall clock. Jason kept his door open to avoid stale air and to allow him some form of vicarious human contact.

Five o'clock seemed a distant hope to Jason as he wrapped up a billing a.s.sessment he needed to complete by the end of the week. The a.s.signment wasn't anything overly complex, yet Jason had difficulty remaining on task. His office door was open and each coworker that pa.s.sed by remained atwitter from the recent a.s.sa.s.sination attempt on the United States President's life, as well as the savior of that same hour, Ghost.

Hard to call an a.s.sa.s.sin a hero though, considering all of the men and women he's butchered. I don't know why they're all honoring him so well with constant spotlight they're giving him.

Jason knew all of the commotion would dissipate in a day or so, but the cacophonous chatter and noise from the office seemed deafening. The typing, laughter, gossip, footsteps, printers, and the opening and closing of doors collectively barred his focus entirely from his work.

"Jason, are you alright?"

He snapped back into place and the office quieted instantly. What was that Jason? Focus! Don't allow them to derail you so easily. Jason rubbed his eyes and apologized, "I'm fine Hannah. It's just a little headache."

"Do you need anything? Aspirin maybe?"

He shook his head and told her he'd manage. "Did you need something?"

"Only the stats for the quarter thus far."

Jason told her he'd email her a copy and asked her to close the door as she left. He glanced up at the clock on the wall and let out a breath. I'm never going to make it out of here. After a moment of contemplation he left his desk and office for the break room for a quick rest before his last hour of work. Only a little longer Jason...

1:34 PM.

Kenmore, Washington.

He warily climbed the ramp up toward a small blue house in Kenmore. Nick hadn't been there in months, but he guessed it might have been that long since anyone managed to mow their yellow lawn too. He knew Jessica's father was a hard working police officer in Both.e.l.l, but he didn't realize how hard. Part of him felt he should offer to cut it for them, but he also believed they'd turn his charity down.

It took him quite a while to remember where she lived, as he'd only been there twice to work on their Advanced Philosophy cla.s.s project. In fact, without her help he wouldn't have pa.s.sed the cla.s.s (and in all honesty it was the highest grade he'd ever gotten in a cla.s.s because of her). The dead giveaway was the rhododendrons in their front yard, the only thing he'd remembered that no one else in her neighborhood had.

Nick took a breath and rang the doorbell. Not even a second later it opened and a pudgy child in a worn Thundercats tee-shirt and khaki shorts stared up at him. The dark-skinned boy smiled and said, "You're going the wrong way," and with that he shut the door on Nick.

A moment later the door flung open and the little boy asked, "Y'know...we're almost out of sand, do you know where we can get more?"

"Michael," the young boy's elder sister quickly joined them and proceeded to scold him, "Don't answer the door like that Michael, you never know who's there." She looked up from her wheelchair and saw Nick, "Oh," she turned her attention from Michael and asked, "What're you doing here?"

He asked if he could come in to talk to her, which she allowed. Nick followed her over to their living room table and took a seat. Michael sat in the other room with his eyes glued to the television. Once Nick felt that Michael was out of earshot he told Jessica about his brother's death and the events at Jordan's work.

She frowned, "I'd heard about your bother, and I'm sorry about that by the way, but I didn't realize the murder in Lake Forest Park was such a big deal."

"The a.s.sa.s.sin left a-a credit c-card behind though," he told her. "It belonged t-t-to Victor."

Jessica looked at him and doubted what he told her. "You think this guy killed your brother too?"

"Yes."

"Because he had your brother's credit card?"