Arthur arrived early to the meeting place and took up a post where he could cover most of the dock and the approaches. Arctic may be a big deal security Agent but he is on the run the same as me, he thought, scrutinizing every male in the area. Thirty minutes early, he spotted a car coast to a halt in the parking area and the driver remain inside. He left his post, and circled around, coming unobserved to the side of the car.

"Arctic." The name caused the driver to jerk around and freeze as the suppressor rested on the open window, inches from his face.

"Tate?"

Arthur moved around and climbed into the car, the gun resting on his lap. "I know you," he said. "You're that two pip, Major General Hunt. So, you're Arctic, my handler. Who'd have guessed."

"And you are Arthur Tate, traitor at large." Marshal relaxed slightly, his purpose returning.

"Pot and kettle there, Major General." Arthur smiled. "And in that light, I need a few things from you."

"I'm not in any position to do favours, Agent Tate."

"Then let me suggest you get in position, Hunt. I need money, for starters. So let's take a trip to your favourite ATM and begin." The gun came up threateningly.

Without argument, Marshal started the car and began backing out of the parking space. "In the glove compartment you'll find a folder with my personal cards."

Arthur reached for the compartment and saw Marshal's left hand come up with a gun. Both men acted at once; Marshal turned to bring his gun hand around, and Arthur thrust his gun into Marshal's side, pulling the trigger. The car rolled slowly to a halt against the fender of another vehicle.

"You crazy bugger, what did you try that for?" Arthur shouted.

Marshal's eyes rolled toward him, and then up into his head as he sagged forward onto the steering wheel. Cursing, Arthur struggled to get his foot on the gas and steer the car slowly back into the parking slot. He couldn't find the foot brake, and bumped to a stop against the guard rail.

He sat in the car watching the surrounding traffic for several minutes until he felt he was clear. A quick rifle through Marshal's pockets, getting his wallet and phone and then the glove compartment, not surprised it held nothing of value to him. He slipped out of the car and sauntered away, mingling with the people strolling on the dock.

******

"SR with more instructions?" Sheridan watched as Matt answered his phone, his eyes flicked from the road to her and back as he spoke. He was obviously answering awkward questions with coded phrases, and she assumed it was about her not being at the safe house.

"The phone came on again less than an hour ago, and they pinpointed it near the Island Ferry dock."

"What did they say about me?"

"Who said they said anything about you?"

"You did, with every blink, grimace, and your darting eyes."

"Fine. They weren't happy you were with me but they approved my reasoning."

"What reasoning? You never said anything about me."

He grinned and bumped a hand on the wheel. "Aha, so you haven't broken our coded speech yet, just my personal tells."

Her eyes slid over to his and she grinned back. "You've got that right."

The car rolled into the slower city traffic, and conversation faded. Matt focussed on driving, and Sheridan just stared out the window.

******

Arthur sat at an outdoor café going through Marshal's wallet. He found two credit cards, a debit card, and one hundred and twenty-seven dollars. He checked the driving licence, insurance slip, and a few cards for various associations. Tucked away under a flap was a piece of paper with a series of numbers and phrases. He pondered these, trying to picture what Hunt would need to keep safe. Something he couldn't necessarily remember? Passwords? That interested him. Were these his financial passwords?

A girl came by and topped up his coffee without asking, and he absently drank, thinking. He would try them out at a machine, but he needed a car. That made him sit up and swear. He hadn't checked Marshal's trunk. Who knew what goodies might be in a mole's trunk?" He sipped the coffee, debating whether he should risk going back. The coffee finished, he nodded to himself. He could scout the area thoroughly. It might just be worth it.

******

"Glad I don't drive in this every day." Matt gestured at a car ahead with defeat.

"Where do you drive when you're not being a super spy?"

"I don't. Public transport is my mode of choice; I live not too far from here - when I'm there."

"I figured you for a suburban retreat somewhere, surrounded by trees and hills."

"Sure you did. Hey, I'm feeling peckish, let's get something to go."

"Peckish?"

"Yeah, you know, a little like hungry."

"So why not just say you're hungry?"

"'Cause I'm only peckish. Watch for a coffee shop, they always have doughnuts. We can grab some to go."

The ferry dock was busy, and a small crowd waited patiently for the trip across to the island. Matt had to go to the far end of the parking area to find a place. They opened the windows and the faint sound of music drifted across the water.

"I don't fancy our chances finding where the calls were made from." Sheridan popped the top off her coffee and sipped.

"Yeah, I don't think they knew the place would be this crowded. Do you like the crueller?"

"Actually, yes. Is this what you buy all the time?"

"Yeah, I love them. They go great with--" The buzzing of his phone butted in, and Matt stared at the screen. "It's a text. A company car was seen leaving the grounds earlier today and they've sent a licence number for us to check out."

"That could have been anyone."

"True, but it's something to do besides sitting here. C'mon, we'll stroll down the lot and see what we can see." He gulped his coffee down and got out.

He held her door and helped her out, keeping a grip on her hand. "Stiff?"

"A little, sore too. I'm going to take another pill."

"You want to wait here? Just sit with door open and take it easy, I'll wander around and check the plates."

"I hate this, but I think I will - for now anyway."

******

Arthur left the bus and made his way to the ferry parking lot. He stopped on the street performing a casual quartering of the area, verifying any possible threats. Except for a few cars entering the lot, he was satisfied and made directly for Marshal's car. He paused between it and the car beside it to check on the body, satisfied it was difficult to see just passing by, then opened the door, popped the trunk and quickly closed it again.

Another casual look around and he opened the trunk. The small suitcase immediately caught his eye, and he leaned inside, opening the catches and lifting the lid. A quick search through the files inside told Arthur he had struck gold, material worth plenty on the espionage market.

Matt ambled down the lot noting the licence plates and doing his best to appear nonchalant. The man leaning into the car trunk caught his interest and he angled a little toward him, stopping as the man stood and their eyes met.

"Of all the parking lots in all the world. Arthur."

He closed the lid and looked around. "Am I surrounded, Connie?"

"Only with the aroma of traitor." Matt, saw the licence plate and wondered how Arthur managed that.

"Please, that's a little pompous for a guy who lives his own life of lies." Arthur kept glancing about, slowly sliding his hand around to the gun in his waist band.

Matt started to move forward and halted as two small boys chased onto the lot between them.

"Donald! Richard! You wait for your mother." The woman came into the lot, toting paper bags in each hand and a large towel over her shoulder. She stopped and looked at the two men, screaming as Arthur snatched one of the boys and pointed the gun at Matt.

"We could have talked, Arthur." He said, moving in front of the frantic woman.

"Not a chance. Connie. I'll leave the kid by the boardwalk unless you follow, then it's on you."

"Donald!" The woman pushed against Matt and he grabbed her, struggling to calm her down. "Your boy will be okay. Just let him get away. I promise he won't be hurt."

Hearing the scream, Sheridan came down the lot, witnessing the woman and Matt struggling together. Beyond them, she saw the man scoop up the boy and run toward the lake. Instinct drove her to jog after them, her wound singing painfully. After several yards she had to stop, but she saw the man set the boy down and head for the Ferry.

18,640 WP word count to this point