Alexander

"Good day, isn't it?" The middle-aged man's accent came close to drowning out his words entirely.

Alexander eyed him suspiciously as he lit up another cigarette. He clearly remembered this man from when he was much younger, and naive. Old resentment began to linger like the smoke from his American cigarette. "I guess."

"It's a nice day for tea here. Or do you prefer coffee?"

"My favorite tea would be pretty good right now." This is fucking stupid.

"Ah. Earl Grey?"

Alexander laughed. "*You can't even get the password right,* n00b.* It's Black Ceylon, and yes, I have both of them with me now.*"

"*Don't yell it out loud!*" The older man was finally replying in Russian. "*Someone could hear you.*"

The European rolled his eyes. "*We're in the middle of fucking nowhere, America, speaking Russian, and you're worried someone would overhear us.*" He took a drag. "*I doubt anyone in this area speak anything other than bad English.*" Then he exhaled a line of smoke. "*If you're so worried about spies, do you have somewhere in mind to talk?*" He could feel this man's glare. Alexander chucked. "*So, Mr. Rustamov, where would you suggest?*"

"*My van is parked across the street.*" Mr. Rustamov motioned to the parking lot on the other side of Bartlette St. "*We can talk in there.*"


~~~~~
Next to a tall, red cement block wall was what looked like a delivery van. There wasn't anything inconspicious about it. To the average person it looked like a delivery van. It was a tall, bulky vehicle with no windows save for the front and two small, tinted windows in the back. The color was a dull, grey-green that made Alexander think of boot camp. He shuddered suddenly, feeling an imaginary cold, clammy hand on his back.

With a grunt, the middle-aged man jerked the two doors on the back open. Pulled a stained handkerchief from his back pocket to wipe the perspiration from the bald spot. Somehow it made Alexander think of a crop circle in the field of greying brown hair. "Get in."

Even with the size of the van, Alexander still had to duck to climb inside. There was not a lot occupying its interior. A few blankets, four small wooden crates and a large, locked metal box that looked like it came from a construction zone. He sat on one of the crates, careful not to strike his head on the metal ceiling. A loud creek and bang signaled the meeting had begun. He looked to his left to see Mr. Rustamov light up a cheap cigar. Unconsciously, his hand went to the artifacts in his pocket.

"*You said you have them on you?*" The man nervously fingered his lighter.

"*Yes, both.*" Alexander pulled out the chain and cross. That morning he had looped the chair through it, now it appeared to be a simple necklace.

"*Good.*" He only studied the trinkets from the other side of the van. "*There is a third piece you'll need before you can complete this mission.*"

"*I assumed it wouldn't be that easy. Where's the third piece?*" Alexander put the artifacts back in his coat pocket.

"*It's in an abandoned fort on the coast.*" He handed the Russian a pamphlet, obvious from some local travel bureau.

Alexander looked over the glossy paper. "Fort Knox?"

"*It's best to go there at night. There are a few tunnels, he suggested that you try those first.*"

"*I'm not going to be stupid enough to try during daylight.*" Alexander took off his hat, pulling his goggles off it. "*Too many fucking Mundanes. It's tourist season, so they'll be there, milling around like stupid cattle.*"

"*I'm Mundane.*"

"*That would be my point. Is there anything else I need to know?*"

The older man's eyes narrowed. "*Try not to get caught.*"

Alexander did not grace the comment with a reply. Instead, he tried his best to stand, having to crouch slightly. "*Is there anything else I need to know?*"

"*No.*" Mr. Rustamov reached behind him. "*But I do have a personal message.*"

Before Alexander could react, the tazer was shoved into his side, all one-hundred thousand volts flooding into his body. His teeth involuntarily clenched as he fell to the van's floor in a hard, painful thud.


~~~~~
After removing his shirt, Alexander could clearly see the mark set by the tazer. He cursed as he stared down at the purple blemish. It was fortunate that he healed fast; in two days the mark would be completely gone. But the issue now was his contact's mundane oaf was getting brave in the states. The Russian smirked. Later, he would have to remind him of his place. Nonetheless, there were bigger, brighter and dangerous at hand. Alexander paused, staring up at the church's towers. Another smirk came across his face. This was going to be fun!
He pulled out the glossy tourist pamphlet. Before he would take his road trip, he needed two things; cigarettes and a good backup plan.


~~~~~
By four that afternoon, Toby was more than ready to lay under the next available tree and let his muscles forget what they were doing the last two hours. He looked over his shoulder to the others in the class. Only a few seemed winded and some didn't even appear to be sweating! He shook his head, strands of teal hair falling in his face. Toby jumped as the teacher's whistle sounded of only feet from him.

"You can't be tired already!" The short blond woman shook her head in dismay.

Toby gave an open-mouthed sigh and stood up. Aubrey would be nowhere close. He had another meeting to attend, for advanced students. This session was more like a standard class so students, like him, could be able to advance in their abilities. They were all at a strong disadvantage compared to his boyfriend and his brother. The two already knew they would Awaken long before they even went through the . . . process. Aubrey had accidently set his curtains on fire at age thirteen. With Tristan . . . well, "the accident" (as no-one wanted to explain details), forced his Awakening at only eleven. Much to his disadvantage, Toby didn't Awaken until he was fifteen. Years after a majority of the kids she shared classes with.

But most of those same students didn't even know what he was, nevermind what is exactly was he could do.

Hesitantly, he approached the high, wooden fence. It was close to two floors tall, but most of the teens in the group didn't seem to have the slightest difficulty jumping to grab hold of the top and vault over. The goal of this was for them to be able to fully scale the wall by the end of the week. So far, Toby had only been able to make it halfway up.

"Try taking running start." A girl with a long, strawberry blond braid approached him. Like the teacher, she too had a whistle and clipboard. She had an accent he couldn't place. "Just look straight up as you jump. When you do, just think of your ‘energy' as huge springs in your feet pushing you up into the air."

Toby turned and walked away twenty feet, and turning on his heel, ran full tilt toward the wall. As suggested, he looked up at the top of the wall, feeling the soles of his shoes heat up. A meter away from the wall, he leapt. And his hand grabbed the top edge of the last board. In a huff, he hoisted himself over the wall, landing on his feet on the worn grass on the other side. Smiling, he made his way under a large pine tree and collapsed onto the soft bedding of dead pine needles. The rest of the class could wait for today.

A shadow crossed over him. Toby opened his eyes.

"You look bored." A tall boy with long chestnut-colored hair motioned towards a building. "Care for some coffee?"

Despite the icicles crawling up his backbone, he followed.