Mark Blithe's jaw clenched slightly at the obviously unpleasant memories but within a moment he continued. "Know this, on a mission of the sort I'm describing, nothing can be allowed to prevent a successful completion. Nothing. That would include the loss of the rest of your team. The loss of a team isn't acceptable to Addison Black though. Single-handedly and without regard to her personal safety, she secured the release of the team and the...termination...of the mercenaries. Literally I was seconds away from death but thanks to her I lived. She wouldn't take any credit for that mission either but they insisted on rewarding someone. A promotion to general and a desk job, it makes me wonder if it was such a great reward after all." He paused here wanting the full importance of his next words to be completely appreciated by Marlene.

"Honestly, it is a rare female that is invited into this branch of government service but Addison is that special one. She's fearless, inventive, focused and highly skilled. There is nothing she will not do to see your daughter returned safely to you."

Marlene digested the man's words. General Blithe had left no doubt of his implicit faith in the agent.

"Okay then, Mark, I'll have to trust your judgment on this. I just hope Skyler will be alright."

"She will be, Addison will see to it. Now, why don't you let me show you to the secured guest quarters here? You must be exhausted and we may not hear anything for a few hours at least."

"I suppose I could try to rest but I can't guarantee I'll sleep. You'll let me know if you receive any word, won't you?"

"Of course I will," the general a.s.sured her and escorted her to the door. Prior to opening the door he stopped to retrieve a decorative wooden cane she had seen him use before. As he stepped into the corridor he walked with a noticeable limp and when he glanced at the American he saw Marlene trying politely not to stare. Marlene realized she was watching the general's hobbling gait and reached for a subject.

"Um, Mark, can I ask you something about Agent Black?" At his nod, she continued, Her eyes?"

A brief flash of alarm crossed the general's face. "I'm glad you didn't mention that while Addison was here, Marlene. She's a little touchy about that subject needless to say."

"I understand," the American said. She hesitated a little, slowing her step for the man who was making his way along rather painfully. He decided to enlighten the woman on the circ.u.mstances of his disability.

"You're very kind to pretend I don't have a terrible limp, Marlene, but it's quite all right. It's not a permanent wounding. Though temporary, it's courtesy of an adventure with Addison as well."

"Another hypothetical mission?" Marlene inquired.

"No, a scrum on the rugby pitch two weeks ago. Did I mention Addison hates to lose?"

Despite the gravity of her daughter's situation, Marlene had to laugh at that. Mark Blithe was a very nice man she decided and she found herself glad for his company. It was while she was thinking this that a tall man in a white lab coat rushed past them carrying a scruffy looking dog in what appeared to be a diaper.

Brodie slammed the door to the office. She had lost control with Doctor Tidwell and the one thing she despised was losing control in any fas.h.i.+on.

"b.i.t.c.h! Why couldn't she just cooperate? d.a.m.n it, this is going to put my questioning behind schedule and I need that information!" Brodie thought about the money already on deposit in her numbered account in the Cayman Islands and knew if there were a screw up, she'd never see the rest of the promised funds. She needed to check in with her superior.

Retrieving the phone from the desk, she punched the pre-set number again. Her superior answered immediately.

"Brodie here. We might be a little longer in obtaining the information you're seeking. The good doctor isn't as meek a mouse as I thought she'd be....No, nothing like that, just a bit of spirit that needed taming." She listened then as a seriously displeased employer explained the consequences of failure.

"I understand. I'll start the interrogation later today...Right, did you find out who they were sending?" As Brodie heard the name a flush crept up the back of her neck and she clenched her free hand into a fist. "Addison Black! Well, isn't that interesting? She's managed to throw a f.u.c.king monkey wrench into several of my plans before but this time it's going to be different. Very different indeed." She disconnected after giving a promise of results in the near future.

Slipping into the chair behind the desk, Brodie thought with anger about the very charming and beautiful agent she figured would already be working on the case. Malice deformed her normally placid looks as she recalled their previous meetings. She had come painfully close to losing everything on several occasions and it was only her ability to cover her tracks that had saved her from being a permanent guest in one of Her Majesty's danker prisons.

"You'll get yours this time, Agent Black, because I'll be one step ahead of you. Don't worry though; I'm a gracious winner. I'll even get a little gift for you, Addison. Hmm, let's see, what would be appropriate for the SAS agent who has everything?"

Pretending to ponder the question thoughtfully she tapped her chin with her index finger. "I've got it! A marvelous gift for Addison! How about one dead American research scientist followed by an international incident because of Agent Black's botched handling of the job? Why Brodie you clever thing...it's just perfect."

Special Operations had its own unique exercise facility for keeping its agents in peak physical condition. From multi-gyms to a wooden dummy for martial arts training, everything was provided for the agents including a luxury tiled locker room. It was into this that Addison had retreated. She escaped for one last hot shower before dressing for her a.s.signment. Sometimes an agent could go up to several months without the comfort of hot water for bathing, so it was Addison's tradition to have a hot shower before she departed on a mission. Once done, the agent padded into the empty locker room and slipped into a practical sports bra and matching panties.

Unzipping the main compartment of her large duffel bag, Addison reached inside the loaded container and pulled out a pair of thick, black combat trousers and a s.h.i.+rt. She held open the trousers and stepped into the legs, pulling them up around her hips. She neglected to fasten the row of b.u.t.tons as the door to the changing room swung open and Samuel Perkins waltzed inside.

Pinning the man with an expression of faux indignation, Addison pretended to cover her chest. "Don't you know how to knock?"

"Oh, like you have anything I haven't seen before."

Addison swiftly coiled her padded, black s.h.i.+rt and flicked it at the scientist. "You have never seen mine before. Sod off."

Samuel pulled a round magnifying gla.s.s from his top pocket and held it up to Addison. He squinted through one eye and whistled. "Wow, through this thing you really do have sizable b.r.e.a.s.t.s. That, I have never seen before."

Swiping the magnifier out of Perkins' hand, Addison peered through the gla.s.s at the scientist. "This doesn't even work. It's broken." She gazed neutrally at his enlarged features.

"It certainly is not!" Perkins retorted.

Stepping closer, Addison held the magnifying gla.s.s up to the zipper of his pants. "It sure is, take a look at that."

Samuel looked down before realising what the agent was implying. "Okay, okay...!" He took the magnifier from Addison and slipped it back into his pocket. "Anyway the reason I came in here, apart from letting you know Miss Bakersfield has Spike until I finish here this evening, is that I wanted to remind you to check by before you leave. I have a couple of things I think you may find will come in handy."

"Cool... does it have multi speeds of vibrating pleasure?" Addison asked as Perkins stepped towards the exit.

"Ha, ha! You wish, Spy Girl!" Perkins backed up towards the exit. "Just you remember to make sure those little suction marks are covered before you leave this place!" Samuel pointed towards several little love bites adorning Addison's body. "At least I see the reason why you weren't there to answer your phone last night!" Perkins wiggled his eyebrows before opening the door.

Addison chuckled as the scientist left the room. Picking up a white tank top she slipped it over her head before shrugging into her black padded s.h.i.+rt. Addison fastened the b.u.t.tons into place and tucked it into her combat trousers. Finis.h.i.+ng the last b.u.t.ton on her pants, the agent slipped the first belt into place. To that she added the holsters for her pistols at the back and slipped both Berettas into place. They were already loaded and she placed eight more clips into one leg of her trousers, four in one arm of her s.h.i.+rt and four pouches attached to her belt.

After Addison's quest to obtain a new contact lens she stopped by the armoury and loaded up on enough ammunition that she could comfortably carry. This included pistol clips, shotgun sh.e.l.ls and ammunition for her H&K submachine gun. She had already taped the magazines together for swifter loading purposes.

Next, Addison slipped into her boots and secured the laces. To one boot she attached a knife and to the other, a baby browning pistol. This was smaller and she placed two more clips for that pistol in her other trouser leg pocket. Reaching back into her bag Addison took out a second belt and wrapped it around her waist. This belt was different as it clipped to her first belt and had straps, almost like elasticised braces, which went over each shoulder. It was a holster specially designed so she could attach her Spas 12 shotgun to her back and submachine gun to her side. Both larger firearms in place, Addison filled a small backpack with a case of shotgun sh.e.l.ls - a second case she emptied into the secured pocket of her three quarter length jacket - and bound H&K magazines.

Sitting on a dark wooden bench, Addison leaned her side against the grey wall of the changing room. Ahead of her she could hear the constant drip of a showerhead against the tiled floor. Addison took a deep breath. She felt a familiar flutter in her stomach. It was common for her to feel nerves before a new a.s.signment and this was no exception. However well she performed in the field, apprehension was always present before an a.s.signment. Addison believed it was what kept her alive. If she let her over-confident nature interfere with natural caution, she doubted she would still be alive today. Regardless of that fact, as soon as Addison got started, she appeared fearless.

Removing the remaining items from her duffel bag, Addison place them in either her small backpack or in strategic places upon her body. Once finished, she rose to her feet. Addison knew both General Blithe and Samuel Perkins were waiting for her. She had a flight upon a private military jet, which would take her straight into Scotland where a Jeep would be waiting for her to carry out the mission. Slinging the backpack over her shoulder, Addison exited the changing room and headed towards Samuel's laboratory. Her booted footsteps echoed down the empty corridor as she pa.s.sed several other labs. Each one contained groups of scientists, dressed in unusual attire suitable for the conditions they were working in. Addison stopped by one window and looked in upon a group of three women and one man who were all dressed in bright orange jump suits. She tapped upon the window and waved, as four faces looked her way. Putting up both thumbs she indicated approval of their choice of colourful dress and received varying forms of obscene finger gestures in response. Addison placed her hand over her heart feigning hurt and the four laughed inside the soundproof room before turning back to their project. The four bodies gathered around an unusual metallic, oval object that seemed to be emitting a yellow, non-toxic vapour. Addison wondered what on earth they were up to now. As usual, it wasn't her place to ask questions but she knew if she did ask them, she could be pretty sure of an honest response. Addison was both liked and respected within Special Operations and for that, she was privy to a lot of inside information. More information than she possibly should have known.

Samuel Perkins' laboratory was alive with activity. The room was large, about half the size of an aircraft hanger and possibly just as noisy. Scientists and fellow agents stood around the metallic room conversing with varying degrees of excitement. Venturing further, Addison sought out General Blithe. She noticed him standing in the far corner of the room beside Perkins. He stood tall; his arms crossed as he listened to Samuel speak animatedly about an unusual car in front of them. As Addison approached General Blithe nodded to her in acknowledgement.

"Agent Black, are you prepared?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent." Blithe motioned towards the silver convertible in front of him. "What do you think? A completely new kind of vehicle designed by Agent Perkins himself. We begin tests today... as you can see it has attracted a lot of attention already."

Addison looked around the gathering of soldiers and scientists. "So it has. And it looks like I will miss it. So... is this your new brainchild, Perkins? Is this the car that you believe will be able to out-manoeuvre a Formula One racer?"

"Without a doubt, Addison! Can you imagine using one of these in a chase? You could catch anybody! I start remote control tests within the hour."

"And this is what you wanted to show me?"

"Ah no, actually I have two things for you." Reaching into his lab coat pocket Samuel pulled out a black watch. His smile was broad as he laid it out upon his hand for Addison. "What do you think?"

The agent seemed unimpressed as she answered him dryly. "Sam, it's another wrist.w.a.tch. It's always another watch. What does this one do? Shoot a web like Spiderman?"

Samuel continued to grin. "Actually no." He moved closer and began instructing her on the gadget's functions. "As you can see, this looks like a normal watch but if you switch this b.u.t.ton here." Samuel turned a small, silver catch. "It becomes a heat detection device." Addison watched as the screen turned red and the second hand of the watch began to rotate at a faster rate as many dots flashed on the circular face. "Any warm bodied presence within one hundred feet of you is detected by this. Pretty good huh?" He handed it to Addison with a proud smile.

Wrapping the watch around her wrist the dark haired woman nodded, obviously impressed. "I have to admit it, Sam. This could be a very handy little device."

"Sure could." Next Samuel pulled two silver pens from his top pocket and handed them over to Addison.

"Why do I get the feeling I shouldn't click the top here?"

General Blithe, who had been quietly inspecting the car, now spoke. "Those were my idea. Imagine the power of a single stick of dynamite in a handy, everyday instrument and there you have the Sparky 2000. Press the cap and you have four seconds to run."

"Cool!" Addison studied the design. "Lets hope you don't get these mixed up with the ones you guys use to write our pay cheques every month, huh?" She slipped the pens into a pocket on her jacket's right arm. "Is that everything?"

"It is." The General handed Addison several sheets of yellow paper as he took Addison to the side and spoke quietly. "Memorise these on the plane up to Scotland. It contains more information on Skyler Tidwell that you can use to prove you are there to help her if need be. You also have the coordinates of your vehicle that's already at the airbase waiting for you. The usual packet of information has been provided. It is still unclear why Skyler Tidwell was abducted so while you scout the area, we will be doing some detective work on this end. There will be a radio in your Jeep to contact us, so use it. I mean that, Addison! My gut instinct is saying we have trouble brewing. I want you to make sure it is neutralised before you return. If you have to put Miss Tidwell on a plane and remain in Scotland to do it, then that is what you must do. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Mark Blithe nodded. "Good." He motioned to the far side of the laboratory where a uniformed officer stood at ease waiting. "Corporal Sanderson is waiting to transport you to your jet." He held out his hand and Addison shook it firmly. "See you later."

"See you later, Sir." Addison nodded towards Perkins. "Later, Sam."

"See you later, Addison," Perkins replied.

It was common practice never to say 'good-bye' to a fellow soldier when they headed off on a.s.signment. They felt it was bad luck to use such a phrase that had 'permanent' overtones. Their a.s.signments were dangerous and usually life threatening. In just the same way Macbeth was never mentioned in the theatre, so a farewell was never uttered for fear it would be the last time you would see a person. The death of a fellow agent or soldier was a tangible blow to each remaining operative and as such, no lasting goodbye was ever uttered.

Securing the backpack upon her shoulder, Addison left to begin her mission. Deep within she began to feel her excitement building. The thrill of the hunt, the adrenalin of combat, this was what she did best and this was what she lived for. No matter what the cost, Addison would secure the safety of Skyler Tidwell and solve the puzzle of why she was taken in the first place. If there was one thing Addison would never accept - it was defeat.

Chapter 5.

Flying had long been a great pa.s.sion of Addison's. From the first moment she sat at the controls of a helicopter during her time in the military, she was hooked. The feeling of solitary liberation she gained from soaring up in the billowing clouds was something she had never experienced before. During her free time, Addison earned her glider pilot's license and logged many hours soaring above the French Alps, enraptured by their beauty and overwhelming presence.

On the flight to Scotland, however, Addison was the only pa.s.senger in one of the military's British Aeros.p.a.ce 125 business jets. It was a plane that seated up to fourteen pa.s.sengers, but with eight of the seats removed she had plenty of room in the small aircraft. The agent took advantage of that fact by reclining her seat all the way back and closing her eyes. The only sound to penetrate her hearing was that of the plane's twin engines.

Living the life she did, dealing with the constant spontaneity, Addison had the ability to sleep anytime, anywhere. She often joked that she slept like a cat, able to nap at any desired moment in time. With an hour before the aircraft would land, Addison drifted into a light slumber.

For the most part, Addison rarely dreamed and never during a brief sleep. If she did, she never remembered. The ex-Special Air Services soldier was happy to keep it that way. Many of the incidents she had seen in her line of work were enough to haunt her waking hours; she was content for that not to pa.s.s over into her sleep as well. The kind of work she did was not for the slight of heart. Operatives chosen for the MI5's Special Ops branch were carefully selected. Not only were their physical skills a matter of consideration, but their psychological capabilities as well. If the slightest question hung over your head, it was a sword of Damocles and your rejection would be immediate. Addison was good; she was the best. Her psychological strength was as dominant as her physical abilities. She did have one downfall, however, that had not been brought to light. Addison had a heart. It was a beating zest for life that made her grieve a little for each life lost. She felt no guilt in her actions though. Addison was, after all, one of the 'good guys,' but deep down inside, when she was back at home, wandering the lone cliff tops with Spike, Addison mourned the lives she had taken. She was a human being after all.

The expected sound of a disembodied voice woke Addison swiftly. Dark eyes blinked open. It was the pilot's voice informing Addison that the plane was soon to be landing. She didn't need to be told to a.s.sume the correct landing position, it was generally expected she would do so.

Addison readjusted her seat and re-buckled the belt. Covering her mouth as she yawned, the agent looked out of the plane's window. She could clearly see the expanse of Scotland's picturesque landscape. Around her she saw the Highlands, while to her left she spotted a wide area of level land. This was to be their landing site. Nothing else marred the landscape except for a single four-wheel drive jeep, especially built for the rough and rocky terrain of the highlands.

The Hawker Siddeley aircraft took a steep turn to the left as it began landing procedures. Addison continued to watch the ground below as it came ever closer. She folded her arms. It had been a long time since she had last been to Scotland. Her job had taken her to the furthest points of the earth, from the Falkland Islands to under the Arctic Ocean. She had seen an awful lot in her thirty-four years, but one thing she enjoyed was the fresh air and beautiful scenery of Scotland. Addison once convinced Samuel to accompany her on a rock-climbing excursion in the northern Highlands, but he had complained about how cold he was for the three days they were there. He had even made comments about the air being too cool and clean. Addison made a mental note that if she ever took him again, she would pack extra warm clothes and a canister of central London's vehicle exhaust fumes - just in case.

There was hardly a jolt as Addison's plane touched down smoothly. It ran along the open field at a decreasing speed, approaching a vehicle and its sole occupant who had been patiently waiting for Addison to arrive. In standard procedure, somebody would always be waiting for Addison with her means of transport. Any final information was given and then the agent was on her way. Heading out into the unknown was the moment she most looked forward to. She never knew what was around the next corner. Addison was ready and raring to take on any challenge heading her way.

As the engines died, Addison unfastened her seatbelt and rose to her feet. Grabbing her backpack and the weapons she had removed during her flight, she opened the airtight door and readied the steps. From the camouflaged four-wheel drive jeep she saw a single body exit the driver's side and casually approach. Dressed in civilian attire Addison only just recognized Sergeant Quinton Zimmerman, a rendezvous officer for the MI5, who still worked up at the Marine Barracks in Arbroath.

Quinton Zimmerman smiled as he spied Addison. His crooked bottom teeth and chipped upper tooth did nothing to mar the traditionally handsome blonde hair, blue-eyed looks. They had served together in the Marines and had become good friends during that time. "Agent Black," Quinton checked his watch, "Right on time... like I would have expected anything else."

"What's with the formalities?" Addison asked, as she took Zimmerman's offered hand and pulled him into a hug. "Please don't tell me the military life has finally made a gentleman of you? I thought we agreed that would never happen to us?" Addison pulled back and smirked.

Quinton laughed. "I fight it every day."

"That's my boy," the agent replied with faux pride. She approached the jeep and opened the driver's door, slinging her equipment into the pa.s.senger seat. "Any final orders from the General?"

With a nod, Quinton pulled a small communication radio from his back pocket. "Yes, just one. General Blithe says use it or face the consequences."

"Which are?" Addison asked as a mischievous smile played around her lips.

"Something about you being Santa at the next Christmas party."

The smile fell from Addison's lips. "Threat received and understood." She took the radio from Quinton and pushed it into her pocket. "Whatever happened to the good old days of public floggings? That is what I want to know," Addison groused as she climbed into the jeep and shook Quinton's hand. "See you later, mate. We will have to get together for another poker night."

"Strip poker?" Zimmerman enquired.

Addison winked. "If you're lucky."

"Good enough for me." Quinton stepped back as Addison shut the door.

Addison turned to check the back of the jeep finding a few extra supplies, a canister of fuel, a camouflage jacket and several container items. Looking back, she waved as Quinton Zimmerman boarded the plane she had just left, and closed the door. With the key already in the ignition, Addison started the jeep's engine. It purred into life. Dipping the clutch, she placed the vehicle into first gear and started moving. A map had already been provided for her and was open on the dashboard. It was unnecessary as the agent owned her own digital appliance, but that piece of gadgetry was cla.s.sified and owned by MI5, special ops. Checking her co-ordinates, Addison turned the jeep towards a long narrow road and set off on her mission to rescue Skyler Tidwell.

Thumbs tapping upon the steering wheel, a song fluttered into Addison's brain and she was helpless to resist singing.

"Oh the Deadwood stage is a rolling on over the plains Blah, blah, lalalalalalalalalaalalalaaaaaaa...

Beautiful land, no time to delay So whip crack away, whip crack away, whip crack away!"

Suddenly remembering the bulge of the radio in her pocket, the agent realized she should call into Headquarters and confirm her position. She pulled out the small, grey device.

"Come in HQ, this is ... Santa Claus ... do you read me?"

Addison waited a moment before her call was received.

"Roger, Black, this is HQ." The female voice belonged to Meredith Nicks, Chief Officer for Communications. "We receive you. I am patching your transmission through to General Blithe's secured line for conference... over."

"Roger that." Addison waited for the General to speak. She put the jeep into sixth gear as she sped along the empty road. She estimated it would be a two-hour drive to her next destination, weather and ground permitting.

"h.e.l.lo, Santa." Came the General's mirth filled voice.

"You are just plain mean," Addison replied. "You don't really want me to be Santa this year, do you?" Addison remembered what had happened to last year's Santa for the Military's Christmas party. After getting a little worse for wear the man had been stripped naked, tied up with a selection of colourful bows and deposited unconscious under the hotel Christmas tree. They were all staying at the inn for a long weekend. It has been quite a shock for the cleaner the next morning.

"If you don't use this radio I will put you forward, yes."

Sighing, Addison relented. "Okay, okay... this thing will never leave my side. Satisfied?"

"Yes, thank you."

"What else did you want?"

"Oh nothing," Blithe said. "I just wanted to make sure we were clear on the whole issue of communication. You know there could be a lot at stake if this isn't resolved, Addison."