Medieval architecture lined the streets of old town Nuremberg, the city rich with history and culture. Dominating the view ahead was Kaiserburg Castle with its landmark tower standing proudly for all to see. In a way, it reminded me somewhat of Big Ben, looming over the town, a beacon of prominence. It was beautiful. Every road we traveled down held a charm unique to Germany.

I watched the homes and businesses go by as we drove across the city from one side to the other. Meanwhile, Dallas awkwardly tried to read and follow the GPS directions on the screen I was holding for him. I wasn't paying too much attention to being his helper. I was much more interested in eyeing every magnificent structure we passed along the way, imagining what it must feel like to have the luxury of being a normal tourist in a history-blanketed city like Nuremberg, getting to delve into the culture and discover new art and learn a new language. I held so much envy, it was almost sickening.

Being in Germany felt reminiscent of living in Bulgaria back before my life turned into a James Bond story. The two countries were similar in many aspects. Then again, being in any European country felt like traveling back in time compared to being in the States. Thousands of years of construction and evolving landscapes made Europe as a whole a gem to explore.

I remembered my hometown of Sofia. Landmarks dotted the community, proudly displaying our biography as a prominent city in eastern Europe. Alexander Nevsky Cathedral and the royal Vrana Palace were two of my favorite locations, what with their vibrant colors and impressive design. You couldn't venture through Bulgaria without visiting those places.

I remembered the house I grew up in. It was a small brown structure in a cul-de-sac with two bedrooms and a serious lack of square footage. My mother had done her best to make our house feel like a home, despite our family never having much to our name. I could still picture her smiling face, clear as day, as she stood at the end of the front lawn every morning, watching my father leave for work. I was so young then – too young to understand any of the complexities of the world, much less the critical things my parents were involved in. Things that would eventually turn deadly and ruin my once blissful idea of what life was supposed to be.

I could feel a tear slipping down my cheek and quickly turned my head to prevent Dallas from noticing. I hated remembering my past, because I could never remember the good times without the bad times immediately following.

"I love you," Dallas spoke softly, keeping his focus on the road, though I knew he'd been watching me out of the corner of his eye.

"I love you, too," I mumbled back and tried to shove the nagging memories away.

Now was not the time to be getting all emotional over a past I couldn't change.

"I know what you're thinking about."

His voice was so gentle, so caring. God, after all this time, he could still read me like a book. That was both a comforting and irritating fact.

I shook my head and huffed out an almost painful breath. "I don't want to talk about it, Dallas."

He nodded, still not taking his eyes off the road. "I know that, too. But you know, if you change your mind-"

"I know, Dallas." My voice sounded slightly harsher than intended, so I followed it up with a 'thank you.'

Just then, my phone started buzzing, saving us from the uncomfortable silence that was making itself all too at home.

"Talk to me, Alana."

"So I found out a couple things," she said. "Bellisario did live at Cranberry Village. Apartment sixty-two. Looks like he'd been living there for a year. According to police records, his body was discovered in the living room by the landlord when he went to collect the rent. The murder remains unsolved and the apartment has not yet been rented out again due to it still being considered an active crime scene. Looks like the feds have taken over the case from the Nuremberg police since Bellisario was an informant. I'm sending you copies of the files now."

"Alana, have we got any news on Lancaster or Matt?" I asked, anxiously tapping my thumb against my thigh.

It was really getting under my skin wondering what was going on with them.

"Nothing on Lancaster yet. Matt is arriving in Germany today, Tali." Her tone was laced with uneasiness. "He's supposed to find both you and Dallas and bring you two back to A.R.T. in London."

"Me and Dallas?" I scoffed. "How do they-"

"It didn't take them long to figure out that you two would find each other and be traveling together. Nobody saw it as a coincidence that you both went off the grid at the same time."

Alana made a good point. Dallas and I knew it was only a matter of time before I.D.A. and A.R.T. put two and two together. And honestly, the fact that they figured out we were together didn't bother me. It was the thought of Matt being brought in to locate us that made my pulse jump.

Matt had taught me at least a third of everything I knew as an agent. Matt was a lot like Dallas – a super-agent. Both men were seemingly invincible. I couldn't remember a time I'd seen Matt outsmarted or gunned down, no matter how bad his odds were at the time. He'd always come out on top. That was probably why Brit had chosen him to replace Bristol as our team leader.

As good as Matt was at his job, I knew it wouldn't be long before he'd track us down. He'd worked with me for so long that he'd learned all my tactics. He could practically guess my every move in any situation. Now I was going to have to figure out a way to stay a couple steps ahead of him and change up my plans to fool him, all while staying focused on the main task at hand and trying not to get killed by German police or Santiago's angry minions in the process.

I hated the idea of fucking with Matt like this. He was one of the most important people in my life, and he was putting himself in harm's way to find me. It felt so wrong to string him along and try to send him in the wrong direction when I knew all he wanted was to bring me home safe. I hoped he'd understand when all was said and done and he'd forgive me. I just prayed he wouldn't get hurt in the process.

"I.D.A. also has agents out searching for the both of you," Alana continued, and I watched Dallas swallow in angst. "Tali, you and Dallas are in serious danger here. I'll do everything I can on my end to deter your followers, but you're going to have to stay several steps ahead of everyone. You've got multiple agencies after you. I hope you know what you've gotten yourselves into."

The concern in Alana's voice made me feel queasy. I could hear how much she cared about Dallas and me. Even though I hadn't spoken to her in years, she still had my back after all this time, just like Dallas had told me she would. Alana was a real true friend. We were both lucky to have her. I made a mental note to think up a way to thank her once all this mess was over.

Our call ended right about the time we turned the corner into the Cranberry Village apartment complex. It was a dilapidated cluster of buildings in a large rectangle with trash strode about across the lawn. There were window screens hanging, about to fall off. Shingles were missing from rooftops here and there, and the dumpsters were overflowing so excessively that I doubted the sanitation truck had been by for a couple months. The place was a shit show, reminding me of that rundown hotel I'd first visited in Berlin.

"She said apartment sixty-two, right?" Dallas muttered more to himself than to me, his eyes scanning the complex for the right number. "Ah. Here we go. Sixty-two."

We pulled up in front of the tiny apartment that still had crime scene tape across the door and I reached into my bag for a nifty little tool to bypass the lockbox.

"I don't see anyone around." Dallas eyed the area carefully, shutting off the engine. "I think we'll have a reasonable amount of time to turn the apartment over before somebody notices us."

I nodded and hopped out of the car, leading the way to the front door and working my magic on the lock. I made sure to wear gloves so as not to leave any fingerprints.

"You're so good at this," Dallas said over my shoulder when I creaked the door open. "It's so hot."

I stifled a laugh and nudged him in the stomach with my elbow, earning a breathy chuckle from him. Just those few simple words off his tongue were enough to make me bite my lip in desire. Desire to get this damn days' worth of investigating over with so that I could shove him against a motel room wall and get all my physical frustrations out. There was nothing I wanted more than to lose myself in the sweet sound of his moans at the moment.

"Focus, Natalia," I whispered to myself.

I didn't realize I'd said the words aloud until I heard another chuckle from Dallas, who was now thumbing through the drawers of a cabinet in Bellisario's living room.

Everything appeared to have been left as it was prior to his death. Nothing looked out of sorts. There was a thin layer of dust on most surfaces and a filing cabinet's drawers were open, but that seemed to be all. No doubt, the local police and the feds had already searched through every inch of the apartment, and we had no way of knowing what they might've discovered and removed, but there was always a chance that they'd missed something. That was what we were counting on. Surely, Bellisario had a secret hiding spot for his most valuable assets and information. Anyone in his position would. The question was, had the authorities found it yet?

Dallas and I searched high and low through every room, inside every drawer, on every shelf, and under each piece of furniture. Twenty minutes later, we met back in the living room to collect our wits and determine our next move.

"I didn't find anything. You?" I asked him, wiping tiny beads of sweat from my forehead.

He glanced around the apartment in annoyance. "Not a damn thing. The feds probably found anything that could've been of value to us as soon as they swooped in."

Typically, I'd agree. These situations were usually pretty cut and dry. But there was something nagging in the back of my mind, telling me to keep looking.

"But why would it still be an active crime scene, though?" I questioned, lifting up couch cushions and glancing behind pictures on the walls. "They can investigate an unsolved murder without the crime scene still being active. There must be a missing piece they're still trying to find."

Dallas shrugged. "Maybe so. But we don't have a clue what it could be. For all we know, we could be hunting for something that's completely useless to us, Tali."

I ignored his statement and continued on, still coming up empty until I caught sight of the vent in the ceiling. Something about it intrigued me, almost like a magnetic pull was drawing me in with the promise of juicy information.

"Find me a screwdriver," I instructed as I scooted the small sofa table over to use as a ladder.

Dallas fiddled through a small bag of tools he carried and handed me a flathead, standing behind me and watching as I unscrewed the grate and handed it to him.

The small square opening was just large enough for me to poke my head up into, but I wasn't about to do that, given the state of the complex. The last thing I wanted was to be met with an angry opossum in the ductwork.

I pulled my phone out and held it close to the opening, looking through the camera view for anything unfriendly before I went exploring.

"See anything?" Dallas asked.

"No giant pissed off rodents so far." I continued slowly turning the phone to peer in all directions. "Actually... Wait... I think I found something, Dall."

I took a picture with the flash on and handed my phone to him so he could see.

"It looks like a shoebox," he said as I reached up into the opening to retrieve the object.

I lifted it down to him and he set it aside, taking the time to help me down from the tabletop.

"You're still a gentleman," I smiled, pecking his cheek when my feet reached the floor.

We returned our attention to the dusty old shoebox. Inside was a large Ziploc bag with papers in it.

"What do they say?" Dallas frowned, trying to read over my shoulder.

I flipped through page after page of what appeared to be records regarding sales, warehouse and distribution information, and names of individuals in the hierarchy of the European drug industry, among other things.

"Bellisario kept a record of every bit of information he had access to involving Santiago, Bellucci, and like fifteen other wanted drug lords," I told Dallas, handing the papers to him.

He thumbed through them quickly, a strange expression on his face. "I think we found the missing link in the feds' search. This is the most valuable piece of evidence I've seen in any case in a long time. It's got addresses for everyone and everything in here. This is a goldmine to any fed, no matter what country you're in."

"Let's make sure we take full advantage of it then." I eyed the top page again, my focus landing on the underlined name Miguel Santiago and the address beside it. "Alana said Lindsey and Bellucci traveled to Barcelona last, right? Well, this address for Santiago is in Barcelona. I say we follow the leaders and pay this fucker a visit."

Dallas groaned, but nodded. "I was afraid you'd say that."

I knew he was going to follow wherever the trail lead in this case, just like I was, but it seemed like he was a little more apprehensive about it.

Whatever the reason, I wasn't concerned about it. We still had a few more places to check out in Germany before we could go gallivanting through the streets of Spain. That would give us plenty of time to get more information on Santiago, review Bellisario's documents more thoroughly, and come up with a solid game plan. We could pull this off. We had to. And besides, traveling across Europe was a surefire way to lose at least half of our enemies in Germany. Very few of them would follow us to another country, and just thinking about that minute detail was helping me breathe easier.