"Where did she learn how to do that?" Hope asked. "I mean, she's a technical genius. Did she graduate from college early, or...?"

Lightning snorted, her eyes still fixed on the road. "She's not a technical genius. She's a decent hacker, but trust me, if her printer stops working, her idea of fixing it would be to punch it."

He glanced down at his new passport. "Then how did she pull this off?"

"She knows the right kind of people." She smiled a little to herself. "And the right kind of people owes her a lot of favors. She can be pretty scary when she wants to."

Hope didn't doubt that at all. He continued to stare at the passport in his hand. How did this happen? he wondered. What am I supposed to do now? Even though he was strangely okay with the thought of starting over, he was still uncertain about the details. Where would he live? How would he make a living? He glanced at Lightning. By helping him, she was literally doing the exact opposite of what her superiors had told her to do. What's going to happen to her?

A couple of minutes later, Lightning parked the van right outside an apartment complex. The building was three stories high and looked like it was about to fall apart. The yellow paint on the walls was chipped and cracked, and he could see at least three broken windows. Does she seriously live here? he wondered—and then he felt guilty for being such a snob. Growing up in a wealthy family had left its marks on him, and even though he tried to repress that part of him as much as possible, it still affected his perspective on things.

"It's just temporary," Lightning said, as if she could read his thoughts. "Okay, so this is how things are going to work. You're going to stay with me at all times, and you're not going to touch anything." She glared at him. "I mean it. Don't touch anything."

"I won't," he replied, looking at her in amusement. "You're already regretting this, aren't you?"

Lightning muttered something under her breath and left the van, slamming the door shut behind her. Hope put the passport back in his wallet and hurried after her.

"I won't touch anything, I promise," he shouted after her with a grin. "Your personal integrity is safe with me."

She turned around and glared at him again. "If you want to keep breathing, you better shut up right now." It was an empty threat and they both knew it. Lightning shook her head and sighed before punching in a code on the keypad on the wall. "I'm just not used to having people over, that's all."

They entered the building and almost walked straight into a blond man in a wheelchair. His cheeks were covered in blond stubble, and his upper body looked freakishly muscular. Hope didn't doubt for a second that this man could beat him up without ever leaving the wheelchair. Luckily, he looked about as threatening as a golden retriever puppy.

"Hey, sis!" he said, grinning widely. "What's up?"

Lightning did not return his smile. "I'm not your sister," she snapped before pushing past him, heading towards the stairs. "You lost your right to call me that a long time ago."

"Oh, come on!" the man yelled after her. "I know you hate me, but we're still family."

"Like hell we are," she yelled back.

Hope ran after her up the stairs, trying his best to keep up with her. When they finally reached the top floor, he was embarrassingly out of breath.

"Who was that?" he asked, leaning against the wall to catch his breath. "He seemed nice."

Lightning gave him a glare—the coldest glare she'd ever given him. "He's the reason my sister is dead."

"Oh." He stared at her, having no idea what to say. "I... I'm so sorry. I had no idea. What happened?"

"That's none of your business," she hissed, unsurprisingly. She turned her back and unlocked the door to one of the apartments. Before opening it, she turned around to face him again. Her face looked softer now, and eyes weren't cold at all.

"Sorry, sensitive topic," she said, fidgeting with the keys in her hand. "She died in a motorcycle accident. Snow, her fiancé, lost his legs. Serah lost her life. He's the one who was driving." She clenched her jaw. "She would still be alive today if it wasn't for him, and he still has the nerve to call me his sister. The wrong person died that day and we both know it." She opened the door and held it up for him. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah. I'm... yeah." He followed her into the apartment in silence, still having no idea what to say. I guess that's a pretty good reason to hate someone, he thought to himself.

The apartment reminded him of a motel room. It was nicely decorated and all, but it didn't look like a home. The only thing that didn't fit in with the motel image was the carton boxes spread out in different corners all over the apartment.

"It's only temporary," Lightning once again said, dropping her backpack on the hallway floor. "I haven't really had time to unpack."

She's been home for one and a half years, Hope recalled, but he didn't say anything.

"The bedroom is over there," she said, pointing at one of the doors. "I'll take the couch."

He frowned. "It's your home. I'll sleep on the couch."

She glared at him. "You're sleeping on the bed. This is not up for discussion."

Hope opened his mouth to continue to argue with her, but before he could say anything, the doorbell rang.

"Are you expecting visitors?" Hope asked.

"No," Lightning replied, furrowing her brow. She couldn't remember if she'd ever had any unexpected visitors like that before. The only neighbor she ever even talked to was Snow, and since there weren't any elevators in the building, Snow was stuck on the first floor. Quietly, she sneaked up to the door and looked through the door eye. On the other side of the door was a gray-haired man in a suit. She could tell by the look in his eyes that this was a man who knew how to kill.

"Shit," she muttered before turning back to Hope. "I have no idea who that is, but if Valhalla Corporation sent him, they're definitely stepping up their game. That man out there is a pro. You need to hide." She grabbed his arm and dragged him into the bathroom. "Stay here. Be quiet. I'll handle this."

"Hey, wait—"

She closed the door in his face and hoped that he was smart enough to realize that if he tried to help, he would only get in her way. After making sure that the bathroom door remained shut, she carefully approached the front door. She grabbed her M11 from her shoulder holster and uncocked it.

"Miss Farron!" the man shouted from the other side of the door. "There's no need for alarm. I'm your handler."

"Prove it," she yelled back.

He chuckled, and she heard him put something in the mail slot. She quickly raised her gun, but lowered it again when she saw the identification card on her doormat.

"I'm agent Yaag Roosch," the man said. "I'm here to pick up the blueprints to the fusion reactor."

Lightning picked up the ID. It looks legit, she thought. She put her gun back in her holster and opened the door.

"I'm sorry about that," she said, slightly embarrassed.

The corner of Yaag's mouth twitched, almost forming a smile. "You can never be too careful. How is the mission going?"

"It's all under control," she said, keeping a calm and hopefully neutral look on her face. "Caius Ballad is throwing a party tonight. My target managed to get away when I destroyed his fusion reactor, but I know he's going to show up at that party. I'll get the copy of the blueprints and finish the mission. I can do this."

"Why do you think he'll show up at that party?" Yaag asked. "He's rich and unattached. The most logical thing for him to do would be to leave the country as soon as possible."

"Because he's a smart guy," she replied. "He must have figured out that someone's after him and his reactor, and as far as he knows, Caius Ballad is the only one who knows that his reactor is finished. He's going to want to get those blueprints back, and the party tonight gives him the perfect opportunity to get into Caius Ballad's house unnoticed. He's going to be there. I just know it."

She carefully examined Yaag's face as she spoke. The explanation wasn't bulletproof, but it was the best one she could come up with in such short notice. She had to convince him to let her stay on the mission. If someone else took over, she wouldn't be able to protect Hope.

"You do that," Yaag said, looking strangely indifferent. "I'm sure you can pull it off. Where are the blueprints?"

She picked up her backpack and pulled out the folder containing Hope's blueprints. "What are you going to do with them?"

"Don't worry about them. That part of your mission is finished." He snatched the folder out of her hands. "Good luck, agent Farron. It was nice meeting you."

Before she could say anything else, her handler had already turned around and left. She stared at her empty hands. The unexpected meeting had left her with a weird feeling in her guts. Are all handlers like that? she wondered. Yaag Roosch reminded her of some of her former superiors in the army—men who made impossible decisions in the blink of an eye, sacrificing entire platoons for the greater good. Men like that never seemed to feel regret about anything. She wasn't completely comfortable with handing over the first drafts of a nuclear bomb to a man like that.

"Can I come out now?" Hope yelled from the bathroom.

"Yeah," she replied. "He's gone."

He carefully opened the door, looking left and right before returning to the hallway. "Who was that?"

"My handler, apparently." She pushed past him and took a seat on the couch in the living room. "He took the blueprints."

"I see." He sat down next to her. "Isn't that a good thing? They're safe with him, right?"

"Yeah. I guess." She let out her hair and leaned back, closing her eyes. The weird feeling in her gut just wouldn't go away.

"You could have told him about me," Hope said after a moment of silence. "I heard you. You lied for me. If you had just told him about me, all of this would have been over for you. Why didn't you?"

Why didn't I? She had no idea. The thought hadn't even struck her—to lie had seemed like the only option at the time. Her handler would most likely have been able to come up with a way to remove the cuff around her wrist if she'd asked him for help, but she hadn't thought of that either. All she'd been thinking about was keeping Hope safe. This is starting to look like some kind of Stockholm Syndrome situation.

"I told you I'd get you out of the country," she finally said. "I don't break promises. Besides, you and I are partners now. We need to stick together."

His face lit up in a smile. "I guess you're right."

Something moved in the corner of her eye. Her body reacted instantly. When the projectile burst through the window glass, she was already moving. She grabbed Hope, pulled him up from the couch and threw herself over him, getting them as far away from the window as possible. A wave of heat washed over them before they hit the ground, pushing them even further away from the explosion. When they crashed on the hallway floor, the entire living room was already on fire.

"What the hell just happened?" Hope asked, staring up at her in shock.

"Molotov cocktail," she replied as she rolled off him and got back up on her feet. "Come on. We need to get out of here."

She tried to sound calm, but on the inside, she was close to panicking. Has Valhalla Corporation found us already? she thought, running towards the front door. How? What did I miss?

When she tried to open the door, she found that it wouldn't budge.

"Those bastards blocked the door," she muttered before giving the door a hard kick. It surprised her when the door still wouldn't move an inch. The door was just a thin slab of cheap wood. She should have been able to easily break through it. What the hell did they do to it? she wondered, kicking it again.

"Light," Hope wheezed from behind her. "I don't want to stress you out or anything, but it's getting pretty hard to breathe in here."

"I'm working on it!" she growled back. "This damn door just won't open!"

"Let me give it a shot."

Lightning moved out of the way and watched as Hope threw himself at the door. He sank to the floor with a groan and the door, unsurprisingly, remained shut.

"Right. Physics don't work like in the movies. I should have remembered that." He stood up, leaning heavily against the unmovable door. "We're on the third floor. The door won't open. Oh god." He stared at her with eyes open wide, his breath quickening. "We're going to get burned alive. Burned alive, Light!"

She walked up to him and flicked him hard on the forehead.

"Stop that," she hissed. "You're always bragging about that high IQ of yours. Put it to use and get us out of here!"

The air was growing thick with smoke, and the flames were rapidly approaching the hallway. She stared into the fire, her eyes stinging from the heat. Suddenly, she noticed a smell that didn't belong in her apartment. The hot desert sun. The sound of screaming children. The smell...

"Light! Are you listening to me?"

Hope's voice brought her back into reality. "What?"

"I think I have an idea."

She watched as he picked up her backpack from the floor and pulled out a block of C4.

"You can't just blow up the door!" she snapped. "This is an old building. It would collapse."

Hope stared at the walls of the apartment with a calculating look in his eyes. "Not if the explosives are placed at the exactly right spot." He entered the bathroom again, his gaze wandering over the walls. "Yeah, this will do."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"I'm sure," he replied. "Help me set this up."

She attached the C4 to the detonator and Hope placed the explosives next to the tiled wall. After setting the timer for fifteen seconds, they returned to the hallway and closed the bathroom door behind them. The smoke was even thicker now, making it difficult to breathe. Lightning was starting to feel a bit dizzy, and she had to repress the urge to cough the poisonous air out of her lungs.

"You better be right about this," she said, leaning against the wall to keep herself from falling over.

"I am," Hope said, and then the detonator set off the explosion. The blast wave made her lose her balance and sink to the floor. Her ears were ringing, and the world seemed to go in slow motion. For a moment she just sat there, wondering whether or not the ceiling would cave in and crush them both.

"Come on, time to go." Hope grabbed her wrist and pulled her back up on her feet. They hurried back into the bathroom where there was now a massive hole in the wall, creating an opening to the corridor outside. He stepped through the hole and pulled her out after him, still holding on to her wrist. She took a deep breath of fresh air—fresher air, to be precise. The smoke from the apartment had already started to ooze into the corridor.

"Hey, is there anyone still up there?" Snow yelled from the ground floor.

"We're coming," Lightning yelled back. Before heading towards the stairs, she cast a final glance back at the front door of her apartment. At first, she didn't see it, but then she noticed a thin, almost invisible net covering the door. She'd seen contraptions like that during her training—the wires in the net looked delicate, but she knew from experience that they were just as sturdy as thick bars of steel. Someone had taken great care in making sure that the door would not be opened ever again. They're definitely sending professionals now, she thought. The Valhalla Corporation's assassins had made a serious attempt on Hope's life, and they had been frighteningly close to succeeding. I should have been more careful.

They went down the stairs and joined the small group of people standing right outside the building.

"What on earth did you do, Light?" Snow asked her, rolling his wheelchair up to her side. "Serah always said you were a lousy cook, but this? What the hell?"

"I didn't do this," she snapped. "Someone threw a Molotov cocktail through my window. They even put gunpowder in it. My living room basically exploded."

Snow blinked. "Shit, sis, are you alright?"

She rolled her eyes but didn't correct him. "I'm fine."

"Seriously though, a Molotov cocktail?" he continued. "Why would anyone do that to you? Seems a little bit over the top for a prank."

"I think I saw a man holding a bottle with a cloth rag in it," an old lady butted in. "I knew he was up to something. He looked like bad news."

Lightning had a vague memory of having met the woman when she first moved in, but she wasn't sure. She'd never really had an interest in befriending her neighbors.

"We should chase after that piece of shit," Snow said. "Where did he go?"

The old woman pointed out the direction, but before any of them could react, they heard a man scream in absolute panic.

"Has anyone seen my daughter?" he shouted, dropping the two full shopping bags he'd been carrying on the ground. "She's eight years old, about yay high, black braids... has anyone seen her? Please tell me she's not still in there!"

"I'm sure she heard the fire alarm," one of the mothers from the second floor said, patting the man on the shoulder.

Her intention had most likely been to console the man, but the comment seemed to have had the exact opposite effect. His face turned pale.

"She's deaf! Oh my god, I need to go in there. I have to get her out." He tried to move closer to the building, but Snow stopped him by grabbing his arm.

"You can't go in there," he said in a calm voice. "The smoke is poisonous. You'd pass out in just a couple of minutes. I've called the fire department. They'll be here any minute."

"Any minute isn't soon enough!"

Lightning could tell that Snow wanted nothing more than to go and save the kid himself. Before his accident, he'd used to be a firefighter himself—a good one too, according to Serah. Now, he was permanently stuck on the ground floor. Lightning hated him, but a part of her also pitied him.

She sighed, staring up at the burning building. The firefighters would most likely be there any minute just like Snow said, but the fire was spreading really fast. The apartments closest to hers were already taken over by the flames. If there really was a deaf kid somewhere in the building, someone was going to have to go in there and get her out as soon as possible. She wanted nothing more than to chase down the culprit who'd just destroyed her entire apartment, but her conscience wouldn't let her.

"You live in the second apartment to the left on the third floor, right?" she said to the man. "I'll get her out."

Everyone's eyes were suddenly fixed on her. The man stared at her in surprise and then nodded.

"You're the former soldier, aren't you?" said the mother from the second floor. "Do you really think you can do it?"

Lightning nodded. "I'll be right back."

She began to jog towards the burning building. Don't think about the fire, she thought to herself. Don't think about the fire, don't think about the fire, don't think about the fire.

"Light!"

She came to a stop when someone grabbed her arm. It didn't surprise her at all. She turned around to face Hope.

"It's our fault this building is on fire," she told him. "I'm not going to let an innocent kid get burned alive because of me." Not again.

He looked at her with worry in his eyes. "That building won't hold forever, and then there's all the smoke... Are you sure you can do this? You're not invincible, Light."

"I'll be alright." She gave him a small smile. "Don't worry."

Thinking about anything but the fire, she ran into the burning building without looking back.

Hope didn't want her to go. He could see why she needed to get back into the burning, close to collapsing building, but he really didn't want her to go.

"Be careful," he yelled after her, but she was already gone.

"What a brave young woman," the old lady said. Hope only nodded. Too brave.

He still couldn't stop thinking about the way she'd pulled him out of the couch when the glass bottle went through the window. She had covered him with her body—her small, surprisingly light body—and it didn't feel right to him. If the Molotov cocktail had had a bit more gunpowder in it, she would have gotten seriously injured. He too, probably, but not as much as her. It bothered him. Fang had asked him to look out for Lightning, and so far, he'd been pretty lousy at it. He hated how useless he was in situations like this. Lightning was inside a burning building to save a deaf child, and all he could do was to wait for her outside.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash coming from inside the building. Lightning's neighbors gasped, and the miserable father started crying.

"Shit," Hope cursed, running into the building. The stairs had collapsed, turning into a big pile of debris in the middle of the staircase. "Light, are you okay? Light!"

"I'm fine," Lightning yelled from above. "I just need to find another way out."

He looked up and found her on the third floor, standing on the edge of what used to be the stairs. The smoke was so thick up there he could barely make out the small, unconscious child she was carrying on her back.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he shouted.

"It's okay," she yelled back. "I have an idea."

She backed away from the edge and disappeared out of his field of view.

"Damn it," he muttered to himself. Somehow, he could already sense that he wouldn't approve of her idea. He left the collapsed staircase and went outside again. Lightning's neighbors were all staring up at the burning building, their eyes fixed at one particular spot. He turned around and looked up.

"Oh, no," he mumbled. "No, no, no."

Lightning was up on one of the balconies, tying a sheet around one of the bars in the railing. When she'd made sure the knot would hold, she climbed over the railing and used the sheet to hoist herself down to the balcony on the second floor. The little girl was awake now, clinging onto Lightning with all her might.

"This is insane," someone whispered from the small audience. Hope agreed.

Lightning was just about to tie a second sheet around the second floor balcony railing when a strange, creaking sound echoed through the building.

"It's happening," one of the mothers said. "It's going down."

The next moment, the old, rickety building began to collapse. The first thing to go was the balcony right above Lightning and the girl. Hope could see Lightning hesitate for a millisecond, and then she climbed over the railing and jumped. The girl screamed, and Hope's heart nearly stopped.

Lightning landed hard on her feet, her knees buckling from the impact. The third floor balcony crashed into the one on the second floor, and small pieces of debris rained down over Lightning and the girl. The girl finally stopped screaming, and on unsteady legs, she climbed off Lightning's back and ran to her father.

"Thank god," the father said, wrapping his arms around her. "Thank god, thank god, thank god." The father and his daughter began to sign to each other in a wild conversation no one else could understand. Hope hurried to Lightning's side, grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the collapsing building. After putting a safe distance between them and the building, they sat down on the ground.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah." She lay back on the asphalt with a groan, closing her eyes. "Damn, that hurt."

He looked up at the burning building and then back to her. She just jumped twenty feet to save a disabled kid. He shook his head, staring at her in awe. She's an actual superhero.

"You're amazing, you know that?" he said out loud.

She smiled. "I have my moments."

Hope lay down next to her. He stared up at the sky in silence for a moment, trying to make sense of his insane morning.

"So I guess they found us, huh," he finally said. "Someone really just tried to kill us."

"Yeah. I have no idea how they found us, though." She sighed. "I must have underestimated them. I'm sorry."

On impulse, Hope moved his hand slightly to the side. Their fingers touched, and he could feel her tense up. At first, he thought she'd move her hand away, but then she relaxed again. He carefully took her hand in his.

"You don't have to apologize," he said, squeezing her hand. "I'm still alive, and so are you. That's what matters."

She didn't look fully convinced but nodded anyway.

"Hey!" a male voice suddenly shouted from afar. "Hey sis! Hey! Lightning!" The voice seemed to come from the other side of the street. Hope recognized it as the voice of Lightning's sister's former fiancé.

"What do you want?" Lightning yelled back.

"I caught him! I caught the guy who threw the Molotov bomb!"

Her eyes snapped open. "He caught the Valhalla Corporation assassin? How? He's in a wheelchair!" She groaned again. "I'm going to have to stand up, aren't I?"

Together, they managed to get back up on their feet and follow the sound of Snow's voice. They found him on the lawn of a nearby park, sitting on top of a man in a suit. His wheelchair lay upside-down in the grass a couple of steps away from him. Hope had absolutely no idea how Snow had pulled it off.

Snow grinned proudly when they approached him. "He thought he could outrun me. He was wrong."

"Get off me, you ridiculous excuse of a human being," the man in the suit grunted. Hope realized that he recognized the voice.

"Light, isn't that...?"

"My so-called handler, yeah. Stay back. Don't let him see you."

Hope nodded and hid behind a nearby tree.

Lightning walked up to Snow and his captive. "Who are you? How did you get that fake CIA identification?"

Yaag Roosch stared up at her in surprise. "You're alive?"

"I am." She bent down and picked up a folder from the ground—the folder containing the blueprints to the fusion reactor. "I'll be taking these. How did Valhalla Corporation find us?"

Yaag actually looked confused. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"And how did you know I've never met my handler?"

He raised his eyebrows, looking at her skeptically. "You still haven't figured it out, have you?" He snorted. "I see why they took you in now."

"Stop avoiding my questions!" she yelled, her hand moving towards her shoulder holster.

"Don't," Hope shouted from behind his tree. Snow grabbed her ankle, as if physical contact would make her less inclined to shoot the man. Yaag used Snow's moment of distraction to throw him off his back and take off, running towards the street.

"Damn it," Lightning hissed and ran after him, but before she could catch up with him, a car drove up to Yaag's side. He opened the door to the passenger seat and jumped inside. Hope watched as the car drove off, chased by a furious Lightning.

"Well, that sucks," Snow said. "Hey, could you give me a hand?"

Hope nodded and helped him back into his wheelchair. "I'm sorry about the building."

"I'm just glad no one got hurt. It would have been nice to catch that bastard, though. Who the hell was that?"

Hope sighed. "I honestly don't know."

Lightning seemed convinced that the man had been sent from Valhalla Corporation, but Hope wasn't so sure. He thought back on Yaag's and Lightning's conversation back in the apartment. If Yaag had known that Hope was in the apartment, why hadn't he simply gone into the bathroom and killed him straight away? How could he have known so much about Lightning's mission? Why had he chosen to be discrete and set the apartment on fire, when he could have just pulled a gun on them just like the other assassins had done?

The only possible explanation finally sunk in, and the realization sent shivers down his spine.

That man was not sent by Valhalla Corporation, and he was not here to kill me, he thought, swallowing hard. That man was from the CIA, and he was here to kill her.