A Place Where There Is No Darkness

Epilogue

I watched the dark street below. It was hard to see at this hour of the night – everything was shrouded in darkness –, but thanks to my glasses, people and things were visible and bathed in a green glow.

This was it. I had worked for it for three weeks.

A figure stepped out of the house opposite of the one I was crouching on. The form looked around and I held my breath because I knew that sounds were the only thing that could betray me. Hand over my mouth, I waited a few tense seconds before the man turned and walked down the alleyway.

“Target moving towards you,” I whispered into the comm. “Prepare to engage.”

“Roger,” a voice said back.

I climbed soundlessly off the roof and jumped silently into the street. I crept forward, always careful to keep to the shadows. Trying to be cautious, I had lost the man, but that was not much of a problem. There was only one way for him to go, anyway.

Suddenly, my world exploded. I reeled back, ripping the glasses off my face, my head pounding. Before I could completely put together what had happened, Landers had started running the other way, the glow of his flashlight still showing him the way.

“Damn,” I cursed, picking myself off the floor as fast as I could manage. “He’s running the other way, guys. He’s getting away. I’m going after him.”

“How did he get past you, Agent?” a woman asked. I sighed, trying to concentrate on running and on the conversation at the same time.

“He had a flashlight and I had my night vision goggles on. Can you … just send someone? This guy is fast.”

I was faster, of course, but still maybe not fast enough. If he reached the main street he was running towards before I did, he would have a million new possibilities to disappear. No telling what he would do or where he would go.

I was closing in on him, but he was nearing the bigger street that was still packed with cars and people, even at this hour. Then there was suddenly a new voice in my ear.

“Agent Carter in the field.”

I smiled. Carter. That was his true name, but I hadn’t got used to it yet. It didn’t seem right, somehow, and I had the sneaky suspicion that I would never stop calling him Mitch. It was the name I'd got to know him under and it was loaded with history – whereas Carter only seemed like a front with nothing behind it.

“Roger,” I said into the mike, my heart singing. But I had to pull my head back into the game.

I chased the man directly onto the main street, but he didn’t have enough time to dive into a crowd of people before I barged out of the alley behind him. He looked desperately around him, losing three and a half precious seconds, and I took advantage, smiling. I jumped on him, using every kilo of my weight, and we both went down. I was no match for him – he had at least thirty kilos and as many centimetres on me –, but I knew I didn’t have to be. I only had to hold him for a minute or so, then Carter – Mitch – would be here and everything would be fine.

I threw a punch and his head jerked back. Then he retaliated and my face screamed, but I held onto him and hit him again. People around us were starting to notice. Someone screamed and there was a general commotion. Some ran away while others stuck around hesitantly to watch. All of them, however, were careful to keep out of reach of either of us, which left us in an empty circle. Like in a fighting ring of some sort. Like the evening’s entertainment.

I rolled my eyes, redirecting my attention to the fight. Fists flew; some punches landed and others did not. It didn’t matter all that much; in forty-six seconds someone broke the line of spectators and joined us.

“Victor Landers, you are under arrest for the murder of Ellen Langley.” Mitch looked at me, winking and smiling, heaving Landers to his feet by the cuffs he’d just placed around his wrists. “Wanna read him his rights?”

I smiled, too, my cheek aching as it stretched beyond its current limit. But it had become more accustomed to the gesture over the past two months. When I smiled, I didn’t necessarily feel like I was grimacing anymore.

“With pleasure,” I said. I turned to the murderer I had been following for three weeks now and recited what I had been required to learn – among other things – for the job.

“Well done,” Mitchell said, handing the thug off to one of the policemen who had, by now, managed to join us. Hands suddenly free, he stepped to me and placed his palms on my waist. I hugged him around his neck.

“So, you have any plans tonight?” he said.

I made an indefinite gesture with my head. “Well, I don’t know. I’ve been working non-stop for weeks now, but I think I’ve just finished a job and my schedule just cleared.”

“That’s a coincident,” he commented, acting surprised. “I just so happen to have two tickets to that concert you’ve been wanting to see for a while now. Wanna go?”

“That depends. Who am I going with?”

“He’s standing in front of you.”

“Sold.”

We smiled and he kissed me and I wondered how, when and what exactly I had done to deserve all this.