From the window in her hotel room Monique saw the car pull up and park and Murray step out onto the street. She swallowed hard and wondered if he was just delivering her instructions or if he was on a different mission. She went to the night stand and took out her small automatic. Nathan could not be trusted for one second and she wasn't about to let Murray get an advantage.

She chose a seat facing the doorwith a small separate cushion and left the gun within easy grasp. The waiting made her tremble and she wished she had poured a drink before sitting down. Did she have time? The light rap on the door answered her question and she waited, letting him knock again before calling for him to come in.

Murray stepped inside and noted that she was sitting down, which meant she heard the first rap and didn't want to leave her seat. The little cushion was almost an insult to his abilities and he offered a wry smile crossing to a chair next to hers.

"How are you, Monique?"

"Why are you here, Murray? Has Nathan got instructions for me?"

"Nathan has a message for you, Monique." Murray inhaled and allowed a small grin. "There will be no more un-monitored activity on your part. You are now completely under our watchful eye. Any departure, in any way, from the instructions you receive will result in serious consequences."

"Why doesn't Nathan trust me? I--"

"You tried to steal his money, Monique. There is no trust anymore." Murray reached over and took her arm near the cushion. "And in case you find that difficult to accept." He hauled her to her feet and in one swift move punched her squarely in the stomach.

Monique gagged and sagged against him, emitting a weak gurgling cry. Murray hoisted her upright and shoved one hand up her skirt between her legs. The sudden pain shocked her and she screamed pulling away and falling back onto her chair.

"I'm sorry about that, Monique, but Nathan insisted on something to remember should you get any regrettable illusions about misappropriating funds."

She slumped on the chair gasping, tears streaming down her face and her hands clamped between her legs.

"Have I been clear enough?"

She choked a sob and nodded. Murray patted her shoulder and left as quickly as he had arrived.

The concern she felt over Nathan had materialized and she knew for certain that her fate had been sealed.

*************

The team of Agency Hounds picked Sam up at a service station diner on the side of the road between two towns. He was seated in a canvas chair with his feet up on the low stone wall overlooking the sea, sucking on a beer.

"Comfy, are we?" Terrance sneered disdainfully as they exited the car and joined him.

"Anybody else like one of those?" Sol pointed to Sam's beer. "Min?"

"Yes please."

"Tracy?"

"Sure."

"This isn't a social party: we've got work to do." Terrance sounding miffed, scolded the others.

"I take it that's a no for Terrance." Sol ambled off to the diner paying no attention to the railing going on behind him.

Sam sat up and smiled at the others as he took out a small sheet of paper and unfolded it, waving it in front of them.

"Coded instructions from Nathan."

"How did you get that?" Terrance reached for it but Sam pulled it out of reach.

"Faxed to this very location before I even got here."

"How did he know you would be here?" Terrance was getting hyper, arms flapping and voice beginning to screech.

"The omniscient Murray I suppose."

"He frightens me." Tracy wrapped her arms about herself.

"He's just very skilled at his work, my dear," Minnie said.

"Well, what does it say?" Terrance lifted his arms and let them drop.

"Richard dropped a stolen vehicle at a mall just outside the town we were last in; he had been staying at a small pension south of town. Murray spoke to the owner and assures us there is nothing else to learn there."

Tracy shivered and clutched her arms tighter. That was information they should have discovered.

"His theory is that Richard took a bus or hitchhiked and will be staying somewhere along the coast, possibly another pension until he verifies the password code he received from Monique."

"That was for the bank account they put the embezzled funds in, right?" Sol asked, returning with the beers and passing them around.

"Correct. And it's in Italy. The Bank of St, George. Murray wants us to screen the entire route east until we catch Richard's scent."

"Why not go straight to Italy?" Terrance was being petulant.

"You question Murray's instructions?" Sam asked, looking askance at Terrance.

"I'm just saying."

"Well you go straight to Italy and we'll follow Murray's theory." Sol huffed impatiently.

"Children," Minnie scolded with good humour. "Let's just get on with the job; we haven't been actually stellar in that regard up to now."

"I've already called several places listed in the local directory and no luck," Sam said. "So we can assume that if Richard is still on the coast it will be further east. I propose we split up and take the two routes, the coastal highway and the inland. The Moyen Corniche has possibilities but I doubt he would go higher."

"You doubt it?"

"Fine. Murray suggested, okay?"

Italy - October 2011

Richard waited at the end of the path leading to the front door of René's cottage. She walked ahead and paused, looking at him over her shoulder.

"Something wrong?"

"I was only asking to see the place, René, not impose on you."

She walked back, arms folded and an impish grin playing across her lips.

"Would you like to see inside?"

"I thought you had to hurry to work."

"I can go faster in the boat on the way back." She settled on one leg and stuck out the opposite hip.

"Perhaps a slower ride and a rain check?"

The laugh was musical and her eyes joined in. She stepped forward and placed her hands on his arms, leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"After buying me lunch I suppose it is the least I might do." She backed away. "What about tomorrow night . . . dinner . . . here?"

Richard felt the guilt of former occasions just like this when using people became a game of slyly maneuvering opportunities and emotions. This felt different - odd again. He shrugged amiably.

"Sounds wonderful . . . and safer." They both laughed and she took his arm as they made their way back to the marina.

The trip back was better partially because Richard stood beside her at the wheel and partially because the weather, while still cool, had turned lazy and still. The only wind came from their progress. They reached Rapallo around six and Richard stood unsteadily on the dock, his world shaky beneath his feet.

"Takes some getting used to," she said, hauling a tarp over the console and locking the hatch door.

"The only motor boats I'm used to hold twenty-five hundred passengers and standing is no problem."

She laughed and grabbed her bag then started down the trot.

"Hey," Richard loped after her. "How do uhm- about dinner and all."

"Where are you staying?"

"Genoa."

"Oh, well I could motor over and pick you up there, it's about a twenty minute run."

"I can be back down here by taxi in the same time." He said.

"So . . . "

"I'll drive down and meet you here. What time?"

"Four-thirty?"

"Sounds great. Thank you, I'm really looking forward to a home cooked meal."

"I'd think about something warmer; the sea gets much cooler at night this time of year and don't look too far, I only cook for myself so it will be a bit of a learning curve for me,"

"I love learning curves." He held a slight smile as their eyes locked. "So, four-thirty then." He broke off the stare and grinned, waving goodbye as he headed up to the restaurant and the telephone.