Toward the end of the week, Sterling called them all into his office. The tension had cooled, but everyone had been subdued toward one another.

  “We’ve received intelligence that a group out of Finland is looking for a buyer for human flying tech. I think we may have found our other two boards.” Sterling brought a map up on his screens that showed Helsinki. “We’ve planted a bid. Nate will act as the buyer, and Lorna and Arena will back him up. Arena will act as his personal assistant, in case we need a flyer, and so she will be close to a full agent, and we’ll put Lorna in the hotel staff where we’ve set up the exchange where she will have mobility to monitor the situation and provide backup. Bertha will also act as a hotel guest as backup.”

  Sterling outlined the mission. Arena would be a mousy personal assistant, and Nate, who was fluent in Finnish and Dutch, would buy the tech from them. If Nate had to speak to her, he would do so in Japanese. Arena had no idea Nate spoke Japanese, much less Finnish and Dutch. Suddenly, being bilingual seemed inconsequential. She knew a little Hawaiian, but she doubted it would be useful as a spy.

  Sterling continued, “Our priority according to the CIA is to identify the opposing group. Recovering the hoverboards is nearly as important, but the way I see it, we have to make both happen. There are people looking for us to fail, and we can’t afford to let that happen.”

  “Are we going to take the hoverboard?” Arena wasn’t sure it’d be useful.

  “No, the hoverboard stays here.” Sterling paged through the file in his hand. “But gaining control of the other boards will allow us to use them if we need to do so.”

  They spent several hours working on it. Nate and Sterling remained for a while after Lorna and Arena went to eat dinner. They would be flying out the next evening, which wasn’t much time to prepare, and Sterling had said they wanted to take extra precautions because Arena was part of the mission.

  The flight to Helsinki dragged. Arena wore a gray suit and red-rimmed glasses, trying to look the part of an efficient, yet inconsequential, personal assistant. She sat next to Nate on the flight and passed the time by testing his Japanese skills. His grammar and elocution were understandable, though he did have a pretty strong accent. He said that his mother was Finnish, and he was also bilingual from childhood like her, which surprised her. When he found out he was to be assigned to the U.N. and all its surrounding politics he added Dutch, Russian, and Arabic, along with the French he took in college. She was astounded someone could learn so many languages, but he said the CIA had a language school and any agent could attend. This left Arena thoughtful on what languages she should learn.

  Arena felt a little bad that Lorna and Bertha were back in coach, but they said it would draw less attention. When they disembarked, she followed Nate to a waiting limo. The hotel was massive, like the casinos in Las Vegas, and their accommodations were spectacular. They had a large suite with adjoining rooms. Arena didn’t know where Lorna and Bertha were staying.

  The exchange was supposed to take place at 9:00 that night in a random room. Sterling had said that they tried to control the room, but the request was refused, and they didn’t want to push the matter too much.

  At five minutes til, Arena followed Nate to the assigned room. They knocked, but no one answered. Nate’s disposable cell phone rang, set up for the purpose of the other group to contact them. He answered, and said, “Yes. I was not notified of the changes ahead of time. I see. Fine,” and he hung up.

  “They want us to meet in a conference room on the main floor,” He told her in Japanese.

  “On my way.” Bertha said on the comms.

  “Change noted,” came Sterling’s voice.

  Lorna did not respond.

  “Deadeye, do you read?” said Sterling.

  No answer.

  Nate began walking very fast toward the elevator. It opened, and a man with dark hair and eyes held Lorna with a gun to her head. He pushed her out of the elevator. She whimpered. Arena didn’t know if it was real or if Lorna was still pretending to be an ordinary housekeeper.

  “Missing someone?” he said menacingly an Australian accent. Arena stepped back behind Nate, as she was instructed to do if a problem arose. Hands grabbed her, and something sharp bit into her neck.

  “This one is cute, Len. Can I keep her?” The man jerked her backward by her hair. She couldn’t place his accent, but it wasn’t American. His breath smelled heavily of alcohol.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Nate spun around, fear in his eyes. “I’m sure there has been a misunderstanding, gentlemen. We just came to buy some special furniture.” He spoke in heavily-accented English, what Arena assumed was a Finnish or Dutch accent.

  The man holding Lorna laughed. “Nice try, mate! But you got our buddy in your camp, so we thought maybe we should take a few of yours. Tit for tat and all that.”

  “See if you can keep them busy, Atticus. Backup is on the way,” Sterling sounded panicked.

  Nate began to talk, trying to persuade them to let Lorna and Arena go. The man holding Arena started pulling her back, away from Nate. She didn’t think she could get out of this hold, even if Nate had taught her about holds with knives instead of guns. He wasn’t as tall as Nate, and the knife scraped her throat a few times. Blood was running down her suit jacket.

  “In position behind Cyclone’s captor,” said Bertha in her ear, in a whisper. Nate lowered his hands and flared them slightly, starting a count of three. Suddenly, he was a flurry of kicks and punches, and the man holding Arena dropped the knife. Arena managed to duck out of the way, although she was trapped between Nate and Bertha and her attacker, who was gray-haired with a beard. Lorna had managed to slip out of her captor’s arms and twisted the gun out of his hand while Nate grabbed for his other arm.

  Once Bertha had gotten the man’s attention, she punched him and he collapsed onto the floor. Arena thought the fight was over, but several other men appeared from another room on the floor and charged them. Arena tried to dart past Nate and Lorna and the struggling man. A woman came out of the elevator, holding a gun. She aimed it at Lorna, and said to Nate, “Stop or she dies.” She was beautiful--exotic and feminine, but Arena could not determine her age.

  Nate went rigid. “Don’t! Celeste, please. Don’t.” He had dropped into his normal voice.

  “I expected better of you, Nathaniel,” she said to him. “Hardly a challenge at all. You’ve gone soft with all these… misfits.”

  Arena felt like hyperventilating. She was crouched on the floor behind Nate. Someone grabbed her shirt and dragged her into a standing position, a gun pointed at her head.

  “So you are the leak,” he said. “I should have guessed. Smelled like your handiwork. Like rotten perfume. Been dumpster diving again?” Nate held up his hands, watching her every move.

  “Same charmer as ever. I don’t plan to have a trash can upended on me again without recourse; that was a fluke.” She looked around at them. “But you couldn’t talk your way out this time, could you?”

  “I didn’t the last time,” he said. “If you remember?”

  “Yes, well, I still wish I would have just killed you instead of sending you to this mess,” she sneered. “Is that your new little girlfriend?” The woman gestured at Arena with her gun. “You always did like the Asian ones.”

  “She’s just a bystander, Celeste,” he said. “Let her go.”

  Celeste laughed. “Oh really? I hear she flies those hoverboards rather well. A bystander indeed.” Celeste regarded her. “Well, little protégé,” she said to Arena. “I hope he trained you well, or he will shame his own teacher.”

  Teacher? He learned from her?

  “Yes, see, we knew that if we put out the word, you would come running,” she said. “I could deal with you once and for all. And maybe find out about those lovely flying boards in the process.”

  “You don’t have them?” Nate said.

  She smiled. “I plan to very soon. With your help.” She grabbed Lorna’s hair, pushing the gun into her face. “Here’s the deal--you and one of these three lovely ladies comes with me, and you help me find the boards, Nathaniel. Then I won’t kill her.”

  Sterling’s voice came into her head for the first time since the fight started. “You might as well agree, Atticus. We’ll track wherever they take you all.”

  The woman named Celeste laughed. “You think we don’t know all about the procedures, Flynn?” Arena’s eyes widened, as did Nate and Lorna’s. The woman was on comms with them. “You won’t be able to track them, I promise you that.”

  Lorna whispered, “Take me. She…” Lorna pointed to Arena. “She taught me to ride the hoverboard. And I have a much higher clearance.”

  The woman looked over Arena. “It’s not that hard, really. To ride them. Anybody can do it if they managed to get on one.” Arena hoped she was believable.

  “You all didn’t happen to bring that board with you, did you now?” She asked.

  All four of them shook their heads at the same time. Celeste smirked.

  “I can ride them, too,” said Nate. The shock had worn off, and anger was replacing it. He matched her predatory tone, though more wolf than feline. “The only one you need is me. Let them all go.”

  “No, I don’t think so. I know you all too well,” Celeste looked between Lorna and Arena. “We’ll take her,” she motioned to Lorna, and two of the men grabbed her. “The other one isn’t worth it yet.” She gestured at Arena, then Lorna. “I’d take both of you, but there’s not enough room. Surprising you’re all telling the truth this time. Especially since Nathaniel is so good at telling stories.” Then she pointed the gun at Nate, “And you, too. Let’s go.” She smiled lazily.

  She motioned to the two men, who dragged Lorna away, then followed Nate into the elevator with the gun. She turned to Arena before the elevator closed. “Too bad, little protégé. Perhaps next time I’ll have to manage your training.” She yelled at the other men to meet downstairs, and they all rushed down the stairwell as the elevator closed.

  Arena sat on the floor shaking, tears streaming down her face. Bertha pulled her up. “We've got to go, honey. We've gotta get out of here.”

  “They’re going up. There’s a helicopter on the roof,” said Sterling. “There’s a van waiting for you down in the parking deck. Get to it.”

  Bertha dragged her to the other stairwell, and they went down eleven flights of stairs to the parking deck. Arena barely remembered it. Some of the Decoys were waiting there.

  “We couldn’t get up there,” one said. “They had it blocked off. We tried to find another way, and kept getting stopped by the hotel staff. They must have had a full backup.”

  Bertha half-dragged Arena into the van, and they took off. Arena was completely numb. She still didn’t believe what happened. Bertha managed to find a blanket and wrapped it around Arena’s shoulders. Arena hardly noticed as one of the Decoys bandaged the cuts on her neck. They were ushered into a private plane and gave Arena some juice to drink. Sleep took Arena immediately.