The hotel room was small; one room with two beds, plus a bathroom. Scare was currently in the bathroom, while Alex was left standing in the middle of the main room. He dropped his suitcase onto his bed; Scare had already thrown a black duffle bag on the other.

Alex flopped back on his bed, sighing as he allowed himself to relax. The short journey from the airport to this hotel had been somewhat tense, as neither he nor Scare had uttered another word to each other. But now that Scare was in the bathroom. . .

Sitting up, Alex eyed the black duffle bag on the other bed. It looked full and heavy. He wondered what was inside it. He glanced back at the bathroom. The door was still closed, and he could hear running water. The man would be in there for a little while, at least.

Alex got up, and walked over to the other bed. He reached out a hand, his fingers lightly brushing against the zipper. He hesitated. All he had to do was open it up, and maybe he'd find some clues about who Mr. Scare really was.

"What do you think you're doing?" A low voice breathed directly into his ear. Alex stiffened, his heart suddenly having convulsions inside his throat. Wha-? What?! He swallowed, and slowly turned. Scare was there, only a foot away, his face completely expressionless.

How had the man got there? Alex hadn't even been aware of the man's approach, much less him leaving the bathroom! Flinching, Alex forced himself to meet the man's blank gaze.

"I don't go through your things," Scare calmly said. "So why are you poking your nose into mine?"

The old Alex might have tried to deny it. The old Alex might have made some excuse to try and cover his butt. But this Alex...

"Are you done with the bathroom?" Alex quietly asked. Without waiting for an answer, he walked around Scare, and headed for the bathroom. Once inside, he locked the door, and slid down to the floor. Dropping his head, he let out a shaky breath.

That. . .had been dangerous.

After a few moments, he got up, and went to the sink. Turning on the tap, he splashed cold water onto his face, letting it drip down. He ran wet fingers through his hair, then looked up into the mirror.

He saw a teen-aged boy with dirty blond hair and brown eyes that seemed to stare right through him. Alex shuddered, and grabbed a towel.

A minute later, he walked out of the bathroom, shaky, yet composed. Scare was standing by the window, holding the curtain aside with one hand while he peered outside. The man turned as Alex drew near.

"I ordered pizza," he told Alex. "Pepperoni."

Alex dropped onto his bed, and rolled onto his back. "Fine."

Scare watched him from behind those dark shades. Alex pretended not to notice, yet he was painfully aware of that gaze. He tried to guess what color the man's eyes were. Would they be blue? Brown or green? Or maybe they would be black. It'd be fitting, if they were. Scare seemed like a black kind of guy.

"You're a lot like your father," Scare suddenly said. That statement took Alex off guard.

"What?" He turned his head to stare at the man. Had he heard him right? If he had, then that would mean Scare knew something about John Rider. Perhaps he had even known the man himself.

"You heard."

Alex narrowed his eyes. "Did you know him?" He knew he was taking the bait, but he couldn't help himself.

Scare gave a slow smile that seemed to radiate an eerie slyness. "I suppose you could say that."

"Are you going to tell me about him?" Alex didn't really feel like asking the man, but he got the sense that Scare wouldn't say anything unless prodded.

"Do you want me to?" That smile was becoming annoying.

"Only if it won't strain yourself," Alex muttered, irritated.

Scare laughed, clearly amused. "Tell you what, kid. If you're still alive at the end of this mission, I'll tell you all I know about your father."

"Why not now?"

"Because I don't feel like it." Scare shrugged. Before Alex could raise a protest, the man held up a hand. "Ah, pizza's here!"

Sure enough, a mere few seconds later, there came a knock on the door. Alex scowled. What absurdly perfect timing.

ARAR

When K-Unit disembarked from their lovely plane, they were greeted by a young woman. She looked like she was barely out of college. Slender, and small, she waited for them to reach her, a small smile on her delicate features.

"Hi, guys! My name is Lucille, and Mr. Algonthin told me to meet you." She beamed up at them.

Wolf frowned, and stepped forward. He wasn't the tallest guy around, but he seemed to tower over her. "You know where Alex is?"

"Right to the point, huh?" Lucille let out a giggle. "Daddy told me you were a mean kind of person., Mr. Wolf."

Wolf stared at her.

Eagle snickered. "Mr. Wolf?"

"M'hmm," Lucille rocked back on her heels, while clutching an envelope to her chest with both arms. "I'm s'posed to call older men Mister, 'cause it's polite. That's what my Daddy says."

"Your Daddy," Fox repeated curiously. "Who's he?"

The girl shook her head, long brown hair swirling around her face as she did so. "Nope. Can't tell you. It's a secret." She placed a finger on her lips to emphasize the point.

"Is there a reason you're here?" Wolf growled. "Or is your purpose to just waste my air and time?"

"Wolf!" Eagle exclaimed. "Would it kill you to be nice?"

Wolf grumbled something under his breath.

"It's all right," Lucille said. "My grandfather is the same way — he's cranky even if he has his coffee in the morning — so I'm used to it. I think all old men are like that, anyway." Both Fox and Eagle made a strange sound, which resulted in Wolf looking even more surly.

"Anyway, I'm here to give you guys some information. I came since Daddy was too busy," the girl went on cheerily. She held out her envelope to Snake, who had been watching her silently the whole time. He reached out, and grasped it carefully, his eyes never leaving her face. "It contains details about Rider's location," she told them, suddenly becoming all professional. "It also has some orders from Mr. Algonthin. He suggests that you go to your hotel first, then continue on tomorrow."

"But it's only midday," Fox pointed out. "We can still -"

"You need to read that," she pointed at the envelope in Snake's hands, "before you can continue on. Mr. Algonthin's orders."

"Um," Snake decided to speak. "So. . .how do you know Algonthin, anyway?"

Lucille smiled, and repeated her finger-on-lips gesture. "A secret, Mr. Snake."

Snake smiled slowly, his eyes becoming slightly glazed. "Ah. . .I see. . ."

"Where's this hotel, then?" Fox asked, casting a glance at Snake. That was kind of. . .odd.

"Oh!" She beamed brightly. "I'm s'posed to take you to it! Do you want to go now?" She pointed to a big, black limousine parked at the edge of the runway.

Wolf scowled. "Yes. Let's go. Now." He was the first to start walking towards the vehicle.

Moments later, after ensuring that the K-Unit had seated themselves inside, Lucille shut the door behind them. Then she skipped over to the driver's side, and slid into the driver's seat. She looked up at the rear-view mirror, and saw the four soldiers staring at her through the plastic window that separated her from them. Their expressions ranged from disbelief, surprise, curiosity, and horror.

She blinked, then opened the divisional window a bit. Sticking her head through the opening, she smiled warmly. "It's all right. Daddy told me I was to be your chauffeur for today. He said it would be okay, since I'm good driver. I haven't been in any accidents yet, and I've only had my license for four weeks."

Pulling her head back, she carefully closed the window. Then she put on her seatbelt, turned the key in the ignition, and revved the engine. Before she pulled out, she glanced in the rear-view mirror once again. The four men were perfectly still and silent. Their face seemed slightly slack, but calm. Their eyes were wide, but she figured that was just because they appreciated her willingness to help out, even though she had little driving experience. Lucille was happy that they had such faith in her.

After all, she had promised her Daddy that she would deliver them to their hotel safe and sound, and without any delay. With a cheery grin on her small face, she switched gears, and roared down the runway.

ARAR

The room was dark. Dark enough that none of the inhabitants could be clearly seen, but light enough so that one could count at least five figures seated around a table.

"You are certain," a male's voice slowly spoke, "that it will fail?"

"Of course," a woman's voice quickly answered, her tone a bit too hurried. "It was doomed to fail from the start. And besides, we've hired someone that will ensure the plan's failure."

"Who?" A different male voice inquired. His voice was deep and smooth, rolling over the words like velvet.

"He calls himself Scare, I believe," the woman answered. "He's quite well-known underground. . ."

"Ah, I've heard of him," the first man said. "He's a fairly decent mercenary that hires himself out, if I'm not mistaken."

"Yes, well. I've offered him quite the sum, and he's quite reliable. He will get the job done, without fail." The woman seemed to lose some of its confidence. "It's a pity, though. About the boy. . ."

"Yess," a third male voice hissed. "Though it cannot be helped. He was a risk, anyway."

There a few grunts of agreement. The woman held her tongue, though. She didn't dare voice any more, lest they thought she was opposing the plan. She was only one of their lackeys, anyway. One of their more reliable lackeys, however. She swallowed, and tightly clasped her hands together. A lackey for only a short while longer, she thought.

Before these so-called superior men would know it, she would be among their ranks as an equal. And they would have no choice but to acknowledge her.