He gasped as if he'd just surfaced from underwater. Exhaustion rolled through him. His muscles burned. His skin burned. His shoulder-

He grabbed it. His fingers couldn't feel a hole, couldn't feel charred skin, couldn't feel anything. He rapidly patted the rest of his body down. It hurt all over-but it was just phantom pain. He wasn't really injured. The realization was a cool rain of relief.

William pressed his forehead into the ground-or tried to. Something bumped against it instead; the helmet. He pulled it off. Looked around. Ulrich was curled in the fetal position. Yumi was next to him, patting his back. She looked up at William, her brown eyes worried. "I've barricaded the stairwell with some furniture," she said, "but I don't know how long that'll slow them."

Memories slammed back. Right. The men in black. They were outside. They had to escape. He got to his feet. "What's the plan?"

"They're at the entrance, so we can't go that way. There might be an emergency exit somewhere."

"I didn't see one," Ulrich rasped, yanking off his helmet. "What about through the windows? We could try to scale down the building."

"What about your vertigo?" Yumi countered.

"I'll just have to deal."

Maneuvering around the equipment, William craned his neck and peered out the window. An iron gutter next to him ran the full length of the building-there was an option. But outside, a black sedan was pulled onto the curb. He couldn't see if anyone was in it. Above him, there was a rhythmic whup-whup-whup. Like...a helicopter's blades. He couldn't see it anywhere, though.

William grimaced. Stepped away. Ran through the options their environment allowed.

"What if we split up?" he suggested. "They'd either have to split up to chase us, or chase just one. Either way, we have better odds of escaping."

There was a pause as they considered it. Then Ulrich murmured, "Well, it's the best plan I've heard so far."

He would never admit the grudging praise warmed his heart. Feeling like he was on a roll, he continued, "Okay, so then once we lose them, we'll meet back up at, like, that place we ate at-"

"No," Yumi interrupted. "That'd be too risky. We might lead them to us, or get caught waiting. We'll all have to get back to Kadic separately."

"So someone will go through the window to lure them off, while the other two will stay here and try to sneak away?"

"I'll take the window," William immediately volunteered. It was the most dangerous task, and he knew Ulrich and Yumi would work better as a team than with him. It didn't even sting that much to admit it.

Neither of his-comrades? Allies? Reluctant co-workers?-protested. They just gave grim nods, like they were used to this. No, that was dumb-of course they were. "Remember," Ulrich said. "Travelling to Lyoko made our bodies tougher. You can survive more than you think you can."

Willam nodded curtly. Took a deep breath. Then he wrested the window open. It had been shut for so long that the hinges groaned and resisted. Eight stories up, the ground look dangerously far; he pushed back the sour taste of bile in his mouth.

Studiously not looking down, he hoisted himself outside, perching on the ledge of the sill. He wrapped his hands around the gutter and swung around, bracing his feet against the wall. There were just enough brackets on the pipe for him to use as handholds. The rotation of the chopper's blades was very loud out here, seeming to fill his ears. A cold wind brushed against his hood as he descended, but didn't manage to blow it back.

Fast gave him better odds of escape, but fast also had a better chance of killing him. And besides, he was the distraction. So William picked caution as he scaled the gutter. Adrenaline sharpened his focus, made him aware of everything-the sweat beading on his forehead, the texture of the iron under his fingers, the faint space between the bricks for his shoes to seek.

His heart stopped when his right foot missed one of those little gaps, causing both feet to slip. For a dangerous second, he was held in the air by only his hands. Then his desperate, seeking feet found a place to dig into again. He steadied himself. Sucked in air like a starving man sucked in food.

I should have kicked my shoes off. Get better purchase that way.

Nothing to do about that now. Besides, running barefoot didn't sound that great.

A shadow passed over him. The chopper? They couldn't get close, but they must have seen him. It wouldn't be long now. He picked up the speed.

Rock climbing, he thought. You like rock climbing. You're just rock climbing in gym. Downwards. With a concrete mat.

Then he heard a shout from below. He didn't really want to, but William glanced down. An agent was standing at the bottom of the gutter, yelling in English. "It's over, kid! Nowhere to go! Come quietly and you won't get hurt!"

William thought fast. He was about halfway down the gutter, four stories in the air. The bottom was blocked; the minute he got low enough to safely touch the ground, the agent would grab him and it'd be all over from there. A fall from this height would ordinarily be lethal...but maybe with a Lyoko-toughened body, it wouldn't be?

I am gambling a lot on faith right now.

"Okay," he called back, deliberately putting a thick French accent into his English. "I'm coming down."

Slowly, as if trying not to startle the man, he resumed his climb down. He kept his eyes low; to the man, it would look like defeat. But for William, it was to gauge distance, find the right moment. Almost...almost...

And then he jumped off the gutter.

The moment of falling lasted forever and went by in a blink. There was the rush of air, blood pumping loud in his ears, and then impact. He heard ribs crack under his feet and a pain-filled cry ripple through the air. His aim was true-he'd jumped right onto the agent. Despite that, William knew he should have been hurt too. But he wasn't. Jumping three stories barely registered as more than a faint jolt through his legs. Thank you, Lyoko. Thank you, Ulrich.

He tore down the road as fast as his legs would take him, leaving the gasping man behind.

Nobody, if anyone was around, had expected that stunt; there was several precious seconds where no one chased him. Then William heard, behind him, the black sedan roaring to life. There we go. Ulrich, Yumi, good luck.

Tougher body or no, he would not be outrunning a van. He had to break line of sight or get in a smaller space. The buildings were nested side-by-side like blocks in a game of Tetris, so there was no hope of ducking through an alley. So where could he-

Yes! Over there! A road closed for renovation! Changing his angle, he vaulted over the road blocks. The workers had all gone home, so there was no one to yell at him as he darted through the site, kicking up dirt, snow, and asphalt. Behind him, he heard the sedan skid to a halt and distant shouts as the agents argued about whether to risk damaging their vehicle or not.

After a moment, he heard the sedan speed up and drive away. Perfect. That bought some time. But not much. They were probably heading to where the construction work ended so they could ambush him there. He could hear that the helicopter was still following him, blades loudly churning the air, though. So he couldn't just wait and double back.

I need to lose that thing...

William cast his gaze about-

Nothing. Nothing, nothing-

Wait. There. At the end of this road, there was an intersection, and on the other side was a metro station. Underground, he would lose the chopper, and in the crowds, he would lose the foot agents. All he had to do was get there.

His breath was coming in rapid pants now. His legs burned. He'd never run so much in his life. But he pushed all that away. It didn't matter.

Thirty meters. Twenty. Ten-

The black sedan burst in from around the corner, blocking his way-

Five-

He snatched up a bar of iron as he passed it-

One of the agents got out-

William slammed the bar into the ground. Using it as a pole-vault, he jumped-his feet connected with the agent's chest-the agent grabbed his legs-the force and momentum threw them both, William forward, the agent back-

An ear-splitting honk screamed through the evening as they rolled out into the middle of traffic. Air actually ruffled William's hair as a car screeched to a halt, centimeters away. Under him, the agent seemed stunned, winded, or both-he'd been the one to take the force of the fall. William leaped up and ripped through the road. More cars skidded and stopped just short of hitting him. Two barely swerved in time to avoid crashing. Someone cursed at him in Dutch. It was chaos. It was perfect.

His legs wanted to fall off as he streaked down the stairs, three at a time. But he still didn't stop running. People swore and glared as he pushed past them. He fumbled with the zipper of his hoodie, yanking it open.

Inside, the station was still crowded enough to camouflage him. Businessmen and women were walking with their suitcases, perhaps off to late-night meetings. Tourists and families were catching trains back to their hotel, or going off to see yet another landmark. Passing a trash can, William pulled his hoodie off, bundled it up, and tossed it in. Thirty Euros down the drain, he thought wryly.

And only now-now that he'd lost his most recognizable feature, now that he was mingling with a crowd-did William let himself breathe freely. His heart was running like a rabbit. He slowed his pace to a normal walk, fighting every instinct that told him to keep running. That time was over; now he had to blend in.

His nerves were shot to hell by the time he was through the line at the ticket sales office. "Hey," William said once he was at the front. "I need to exchange my ticket for the soonest train to Paris you have."

He could have gone back to Yumi's friend's house, but like hell he was staying in this city while people were looking for him. His overnight bag was still there, though; he'd have to ask for it mailed. He'd pay for the shipping.

The man on the other end of the counter, a mustached fellow with a prominent unibrow, barely even blinked. His nametag read Roy. He checked his computer with, to William, excruciatingly slowness. "Well, you're in luck. The one at 8 has one last seat available. Of course, exchanging right before boarding will cost more."

"Yeah, that's fine," he muttered, fishing his wallet out of his jeans.

Clutching his ticket like a lifeline, William went to find a spot to wait-and hide- the next hour out. His thoughts turned to Yumi and Ulrich. Split up as they were, they would never find each other again in this city, and he didn't dare call them. He could only hope they'd escaped and would find their ways back to Kadic in their own time.

It was about one in the afternoon in Washington. As always, the bureau was a hive of activity and work. Dido had arrived at seven on the dot, grabbed a cup of coffee, sat at her desk to sort through reports and organize appropriate responses, and hadn't moved since. But now, her stomach was starting to grumble, and she finally allowed herself a fifteen-minute recess for lunch.

Just as she rose, stretching, her desk phone rang. "Yes?"

"A call from Belgium, ma'am," Maggie said.

Her mouth thinned. She hadn't expected this call, and in her line of work, unexpected calls were never good. "Send it through."

Click. "This is Lone Wolf. Ma'am?"

"I'm here."

She could hear cars honking and people yelling in the background. He must be calling her in public, possibly on a public line. The thin slash of her mouth became almost invisible. "I hope you realize this call is in violation of all security norms."

"Certainly, ma'am. But this is an emergency. The kids found the apartment on Rue Lemonnier."

She closed her eyes. "Did they find the equipment inside?"

"Yes, and they activated it. We showed up about ten minutes after the signal was triggered. Unfortunately, we weren't prepared for a red alert…"

"You weren't prepared?" she repeated, voice like ice. "I organized for you to a team to be ready."

"The surveillance around the place was in poor condition; we were still in the process of replacing and repairing it. We had no way of knowing they were there until they triggered the replica's alarm."

That-fine. She could have thought of at least a dozen ways to handle it better than removing all surveillance, but the apartment had been abandoned for the better part of a decade. It was-forgivable, to assume it would remain undiscovered for a few more days. "Did they go inside the replica?"

"I don't know, ma'am. None of us have been able to."

"Yes, well, they're teenagers. We don't know what would happen if people of that age attempted it. Continue your report."

"We received the alert and rushed to the scene. Agents Weasel, Ferret, and I went to infiltrate the building, while Agents Marten and Fox stayed on the helicopter. They spotted one of them climbing out through the gutter. If there were more, they split up, so I thought it best to focus on catching just that one."

Good. That's what she would have done. Better to get one guaranteed interrogation than gamble for multiple, and lose all. "Did you?"

"Unfortunately, no. He broke Weasel's ribs, stunned Ferret, and escaped into the metro, where the helicopter wasn't able to follow, and we lost him in the crowds."

"You're telling me that one unarmed teenager defeated two agents."

"He got the drop on us."

"Tell her it wath literally!" She heard Ferret distantly holler. Dido pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Yes, he...was creative. But that's not a problem. He-and any other friends he may have-is surely taking a train home. We can follow them to Kadic and then intercept them."

She drummed her fingers against her desk. "No. You've done enough damage for today. Get Weasel medical treatment and smooth things over with the locals so they don't call the police. The last thing we need is our government to excuse itself to the local forces. Then you return to that apartment and set up a watch. I want three men on it night and day until I say otherwise."

"Understood, ma'am. And the kids?"

"Don't worry about them. I'll contact Agent W to resolve the situation."

"But, ma'am, Agent W hasn't been in service since-"

"An agent may never retire and never goes out of service, Lone Wolf. Remember that." With that, she hung up, perhaps more forcefully than necessary. The situation could be salvaged, but she'd be lying if she claimed she wasn't peeved about how Lone Wolf had handled things.

Dido took a deep breath to calm herself, then picked up the receiver again. "Maggie?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Dig up Agent W's phone number. We have an emergency."

It was close to midnight, but Hiroki wasn't sleeping. Tomorrow was a Sunday, so he didn't have school. But more importantly, he was this close to beating the final level of Crash of the Titans! His tongue stuck out in concentration as he rapidly tapped the buttons on his DS-it had been a Christmas present. His room was entirely dark except for the light from his screens; Yumi always nagged about how it'd ruin his eyes, but his parents had stayed up late and he hadn't wanted them to get on his case. They should finally be asleep now, though…

A sudden flurry of high-pitched barks broke through Hiroki's thoughts. He paused his game, killed the sound, and raised his head, frowning. Why's Lychee barking? It's the middle of the night.

The barks become faster, more alarmed, mixed in with growls-and then they suddenly fell silent. Hiroki gasped, dropped his game, and leaped to his feet. Stepping lightly, he approached his bedroom door. It was closed; he pressed an ear against it, concentrating hard. The house was quiet. Maybe too quiet.

And then-

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Someone was coming up the stairs.

Hiroki pressed a hand over his mouth to muffle the noise of exclamation that threatened to leave. He froze, eyes wide, muscles locked. Mom and Dad were in their room and Yumi was away. But even if she'd come back, she wouldn't have worn boots inside the house. There was only one person who would do that in a Japanese house in the middle of the night-a burglar.

A bead of sweat trickled down his spine as the footsteps grew closer. The person was walking down the hallway...past Yumi's room...the footsteps were right outside his door...growing fainter…

The relief only lasted a moment. Then alarm ripped through Hiroki. The stranger was heading to Mom and Dad's room!

Moving as silently as he could, he returned to his desk to snatch up his phone. His initial gut reaction was to call the police-but then he remembered what Yumi and her friends had said. What if this was the man with the dogs? Then he was supposed to call them, right?

One hand poised over the numbers, the other pushed his door open slowly. Thankfully, it was noiseless. He peered out. Mom and Dad's bedroom door was opened, and the moonlight through the window illuminated a silhouette leaning over their bed. Tall, wrapped in a coat, with weirdly long fingers. No...those looked more like wires.

One of the figures in the bed stirred, mumbled something. There was a feminine gasp. And Hiroki heard a new, deeper voice:

"Oh, don't worry. This won't hurt much."

Then Mom cried out in fright. Distress squeezed Hiroki's small body.

The figure turned-

And Hiroki ran. He hated to leave his parents, but he knew he was too small and weak to do anything to help. He had to get away-call Yumi or one of her friends-

Behind him, an unfamiliar, deep voice swore as the youngest Ishiyama beelined for the stairs. Hiroki's heart hammered, certain he would feel, at any moment now, a large hand closing around his pajamas. But whether because the intruder didn't care to pursue him or was more focused on his parents, he made his way to the first floor unhindered.

He almost tripped over a small, warm and still body lying in the dark. Lychee. Hiroki paused long enough to check the little dog was still breathing-just asleep. Then he ran straight for the front door, not even stopping for shoes or a coat.

He tried desperately to recall Yumi's friends' numbers. Most of them he didn't know. But Odd-right, Odd gave him his in case an emergency happened! He'd probably meant an emergency about Lychee, but right then Hiroki didn't care. He just needed to get help.

And so, running into the night, he began to dial.