Sam clutched the pencil tighter, trying to keep his hands from shaking. It was silly, this was nothing. But for some reason, the prospect of their first street skirmish had him more nervous than most missions. Sure, missions were hard and they involved Snitch Gravel and ancient traps, but at least he knew that. He went in knowing to expect the unexpected. But this? How was he supposed to handle going out and shooting at random people over an abandoned construction site?

Your missions include shooting at people, too. But precious energy amplifying stones seemed so much more worth it. Plus, he could always find ways to avoid shooting. Maybe that's why he was so nervous this time.

"Are you done yet?" Tom asked, glancing at the map, over Sam's shoulder.

"Just about." He finished drawing the last part of the escape route and handed the map to his twin for checkup. Another thing that was freakish about the whole fraternity experience was how Tom was his superior and had the right to boss him around. And check his maps.

"Great. I need a third meeting point, though."

Sam yanked the map back. "What? I already have two routes and meeting points. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find another safe alternative?"

"I'm just asking for a meeting point, not an entire route, so figure it out, genius." Tom turned to the entrance of their small room.

Mizrelle had stopped in the threshold, biting her lip with uncharacteristic worry. She'd just made one hell of a bilingual pep speech just minutes ago, seeming confident in their success and riling everyone up just right. As he watched her now, Sam wondered if it was all for show.

"Are you ready, Tommy?" she asked.

Before she'd said the name, Sam had opened his mouth to answer, but shut it back up. He didn't like this, but he also felt like leaving them alone was a huge mistake. They didn't need to be alone. She needed to get the hell away from Tom.

"I was born ready," he answered with characteristic confidence.

It drew a small smile out of Mizrelle. It also caused her to put her hand on his cheek which in turn had Sam inner-bristling.

"I know I'm risking a lot by letting you lead a team so soon after being admitted, but I trust you. I know you'll handle it," she said.

"Of course I will. We all will," he answered with a smile that could be interpreted so wrong. Tom needed to stay the hell away from her, too, because he was leading her on.

"Are we going already?" Sam asked, not even bothering to hide the brattiness from his voice, while drawing a big ole X for the third meeting point.

Mizrelle laughed, but didn't take her sappy gaze away from Tom. "Yes, you will." She raised on the tip of her toes and planted a kiss on Tom's cheek, way too close to his mouth. "I'll see you tonight, darling." And without throwing Sam a backwards glance, she hurried out of the room.

"Yuck." Tom wiped the lipstick mark off his cheek. "I always hated her lipstick."

"Always?" Sam didn't really want to know, but he couldn't help asking.

"Why did anyone ever think to make black lipstick? I mean, how's that natural?" Tom checked his guns and the proper placement of his bulletproof vest.

Sam did the same, wondering if his twin was deflecting or it was just a general dislike for the color. Innocent. Not meaning that he'd actually tasted Mizrelle's lipstick. That he could've ever cheated on Angie. Or maybe it was before Angie.

"Hey!" Tom snapped his fingers in front of Sam's eyes. "Don't zone out. I need you sane. Come on." And without waiting for an answer, he left the room.

Sam hurried to catch up, trying to push images of Tom and Mzirelle together out of his mind. Half of him wanted to shake the answer out of Tom, but the other, stronger half, really didn't want to know. So he chose to focus on more important things, like where they were going. Which was a brilliant thing since they were going the wrong way. They missed their exit and kept going.

"We were supposed to go out that way," Sam whispered to Tom, making sure that the four men following them wouldn't hear, even if they were talking amongst themselves in French.

"No. We're right on target," Tom disagreed.

Just not to seem like a total idiot, Sam took out his map and checked. He wasn't wrong. They'd missed their exit, heading further away from the site they were supposed to be claiming. The other teams would get there first and notice them missing. What was Tom doing?

Finally, he stopped and indicated towards the iron ladder going upwards toward a manhole lid. "This is it boys. Up and hide."

The four nodded, not questioning the order, and hurried up the ladder, giving Sam and Tom a few seconds of much needed privacy.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sam hissed. "We're going to be late and the others are depending on us."

"They can wait for a few minutes," Tom answered with a shrug and grabbed the side of the ladder, ready to go up.

Sam grasped his shoulder and pulled him back down. "No, they can't. They're relying on us for cover fire. We took an oath of loyalty. Whatever you're planning can wait until after this."

"Really now?" Tom raised an eyebrow and at that moment Sam wanted to punch him in the face. "Loyalty you say. Do you know where my loyalty lies?"

The question had Sam faltering, but Tom wasn't looking for an answer.

He put his hand on his chest, over his heart. "Here. And you know who's in here? Angie is. And you. And Christine, and everyone else I consider family or a friend."

Sam squirmed, feeling like a total idiot. He'd pretended so hard to fit into the fraternity that he'd forgotten why he was there in the first place, what his main goal was. Tom was right. Rescuing Angie and Christine was more important than anything.

"And that third meeting point was for us. In case we got separated." Tom nudged his shoulder with his fist. "Don't forget who you are and why we're here. Now let's go snatch one of Snitch Gravel's men."

Sam nodded and followed Tom up, trying to clear his head and get back in the game. He couldn't believe how easily he'd become distracted with their cover and overlooked their main purpose. Sure, they'd searched for the girls ever since they got there, but it was only while and after finishing their tasks from Mizrelle, so the priorities had jumbled inside his head.

They came out in an alley, very close to the US Embassy. The four men were waiting for them, guns already drawn out. Tom closed the lid after Sam and rushed to glance around the corner.

"Okay, guys," he said turning back to them. "Those assholes dressed up as police to intimidate us, and I think they should be taken down a notch. So Sam and I will draw them out and you guys immobilize them. Since it's not related to our main goal, I don't want any shooting."

The four nodded and hid their guns while Sam and Tom scurried around the corner.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" Sam mumbled.

"I sorta came up with it on the spot seeing as Snitch Gravel's men are disguised," Tom answered. "We just need to grab one of them and beat the location of the girls out of him."

Sam nodded, but it was easier said than done. Though the number of suspicious men had diminished considerably, there were still a lot more than the average embassy guards. He wasn't exactly sure how they were supposed to draw them away from the real guards, but the answer was clear the moment they stepped out into the street.

"It's the brat!" one of the fake policemen said, pointing towards them. It took him and another three comrades precisely three seconds to come hurtling towards them.

"Well then," Tom mumbled, crouching and taking his gun out.

The men faltered and it was enough to the fraternity to jump out at them from behind the nearest corner and try to immobilize them.

"Pick one," Tom instructed.

Sam didn't get to. The sound of gunfire filled the air and a whole regiment of police headed for them. His eyes wide, Sam realized they weren't only Snitch Gravel's men. Real embassy guards were there, armed with real guns.

"Get the brat!"

Tom swore and threw himself towards Sam. His arms wrapped around Sam's knees and they both tumbled to the ground. Blood filled Sam's mouth as his chin hit the curb. He ignored it and twisted on the spot. A car exploded somewhere to their right and the sound of wailing sirens filled the air.

"Damn this to hell!" Tom got on his knees.

"The police!" one of the boys from the fraternity yelled out.

"Go to point B on your maps!" Tom called out. "Continue the task there. We'll be right behind you."

No they wouldn't. Sam ducked behind the corner of the nearest building, trying to quiet the ringing in his ears, the erratic beating of his heart. They hadn't managed to grab anyone and there were a lot more men then they'd bargained for. Tom joined him, his breathing not labored at all.

"What now?" he asked.

Sam turned to him shocked by their sudden role reversal. Apparently when it came to Snitch Gravel, he was the leader. And he had to make a call.

"We can't get arrested. That would ruin everything." But they couldn't just walk away either. Who knew if they'd get another shot at this.

"True," Tom mumbled, obviously not pleased with the solution. "But we can't just leave like this."

"Another go then?"

Tom nodded, his face scrunched in concentration. "Just keep low. They're obviously looking for you. I think we should split up and regroup at the third meeting place, goon or not."

Sam nodded too, and chose a target to immobilize. Tom darted away, across the street, followed by a flurry of gunshots. Sam charged out, too, towards the nearest non-French looking guy. The man took out his gun, but too late. Sam reached him and jabbed him sharply in the jaw with this fist, sending him sprawled on the snowy sidewalk. Sam grabbed his legs and started pulling, keeping his head as low as possible. The dead weight of the body was far greater than he'd anticipated.

"Leave the others! Kill the brat!"

Something wooshed over Sam's head and broke through the window of a car behind him. In mere seconds, it burst into flames, sending a wave of heat towards him. Sweat dripping down the sides of his face, Sam heaved harder, trying to put as much distance between him and the burning car. He already had a stitch in his side and the cold air mixed with floating cinder stung his lungs.

"What is he doing?"

"Who cares? Grab him!"

He couldn't do it. Sam let go of the body and sprinted towards the nearest side street. The area was a bitch. Too in the heart of the city, home to the Louvre and so many open spaces. The bullets coming from all directions weren't helping either. At least they motivated him to run faster.

He turned down the first side street he saw, trying to make himself scarce between hordes of holiday shoppers, his desperate eyes darting from lit restaurant fronts, to modern shops. This was the worst place to cause mayhem. He'd be surprised if he didn't get shot by the real police.

As he wound between people, always looking left and right and behind, he caught a glimpse of the Louvre. What am I doing here? How had it come to this? How had his life changed so much that he ended up in Paris, next to the freaking Louvre, running for his life? Not that it mattered now.

The moment he cleared the Louvre sector, he veered towards the Seine. He could climb down and maybe lose himself under a bridge. The moment he exited into the main boulevard running along the Seine, he skidded to a halt. The first bridge leading to the Ile de la Cite was guarded. They'd regrouped impressively fast, especially since now they weren't even bothering to disguise themselves as police.

Before they could spot him, Sam ducked back in the maze of streets and continued going east, hoping there weren't posted at all the bridges. Not that he really wanted to get on that island, but he really needed a subway station if he wanted to get to the meeting spot he'd set for himself and Tom. Though he hoped his twin had better luck and actually managed to grab someone.

Another turn on a tiny side street brought him face to face with an underground parking lot just as a group of four men was exiting towards the street. One of them pointed, and Sam didn't wait for the scream to get the message. He turned in the opposite direction and ran between two houses and up a set of steps, disappearing down another narrow, cobbled street. Unfortunately, there was nowhere to hide.

He stopped for a second, pressing his back against the nearest building, trying to draw as much breath as possible. He didn't have much time. The sound of snow crunching under running footsteps was growing louder with each second.

The door behind him opened. A pair of arms wrapped around his middle and pulled him in. Before he could react, the door closed and darkness engulfed him. A gentle hand settled on top of his mouth, trapping in all potential sounds of surprise or protest.

Sam blinked, trying to get his eyes adjusted to the darkness, see who had saved him. The thundering beat of his heart seemed too echo down the narrow hall he'd ended up in. Still, above it all, he could hear the eerie silence the footsteps left behind once they stopped in front of the door. The breath hitched in his throat.

The hand over his mouth turned into a finger pressed against his lips. She shushed him desperately, her other hand pressing his chest. And he could finally make out her flowing hair, the way her eyes twinkled with fear in the little light coming from God only knew where. And he couldn't help it.

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a tight hug, leaning his cheek on the top of her head. She hugged him back, her arms snaking under his winter jacket, grabbing on to his true outline as if trying to make sure he was really there. He totally got the feeling, he wanted to make sure she was real too, and not a too hopeful hallucination from his part.

"Where'd he go?" a muffled voice asked from right outside the door.

"Dunno. Maybe he ran off."

"Don't be an idiot! There's no footprints."

She immediately let him go, took his hand and led him further down the corridor, into a small, grimy kitchen. The dirty narrow window let in a sliver of light, and Sam could finally see her. Angie looked over her shoulder as if she too wanted to make sure it was really him.

For a second, Sam's stomach clenched uncomfortably. Maybe she'd confused him with Tom and would now let go of his hand, disappointed. She didn't, just smiled weakly and led him into a tiny square hall and out another door. They stepped out into the street once again, and Angie pulled him towards the river at a quick pace.

❄❄❄

I'm ending it here because there's a lot more of this adventure to go. I feel a bit iffy about how the action played out. I want it to make sense and have it be exciting but I have a feeling it didn't turn out just right. So any observation is very welcomed.

Also, yay, Sam found Angie! Sort of. Angie more likely found him. What do you think happened? Where is Christine? And what happened to Tom? Stick around and find out.

Leave me a comment and don't forget to vote if you enjoyed this chapter. Peace.