Tommy, a bit at sixes and sevens what with Stephen off on adventures whilst he was stuck here babysitting, actually walked into the dining room intent on having a real breakfast for once. He checked the lights and there were no signs of impending chaos in the Ops Center. In fact, more than a few Ops Center folks were having breakfast. So was Reno.  Reno seldom looked frail. He had a nice body with a good set of muscles so frail wasn't the first thing that came to anyone's mind about Reno. But at the moment, that body was hunched over a bit under thunderous claps on the back from Tabitha who apparently had told him a joke and was enjoying it far more than Reno was. Possibly only because he was worried about a broken back.

The table erupted in laughter as Tabitha, blushing, hurried away, with a fond glance back toward Reno. Tommy stopped for coffee and joined them.

"Hey," Reno said. "Thanks for those files. That was real helpful.."

"Sure," Tommy replied. "I've got some other stuff you should have a look at too."

"Right," Reno said as Tabitha came back over with a plate.

"There you go.  You're too skinny and you don't get enough sleep. I'll talk to Cal.  That man drives everyone."

"No!" Reno yelped.  "No," he repeated more softly. "It's not that. I just... Well, I've got stuff to do for Marc too.  Things should slow down soon."

Tabitha left Reno with a plateful of delicious looking pancakes and bacon.  And told Tommy to come get his own.

Tommy followed her. "Aren't you laying it on a bit thick?" he asked her.

Tabitha glanced back at Reno. "That boy needs some mothering.  And don't you give me any lip or I'll take you by the ear and give you some too."

Tommy got his plate and rejoined Reno, having decided silence was the only response to Tabitha.

"So," Reno said. "What's all this?"

"Well, you're a part of the ops teams."

"I'm a trainee. And I'm Marc's assistant first and foremost. Come on."

Tommy, between bites, said, "Maybe people just like you."

"I'm not blind and I'm not stupid, Tommy. So, what, all of the sudden there are no secrets from me?"

"Maybe there never were any," Tommy suggested.

Reno rolled his eyes.

"Well, there still are things I can't tell anyone. So get used to it."

The two of them ate for a bit then Reno sighed. "I'm sorry. I'd love to see those files."

Baz and his colleagues were in place at the Cathedral by ten o'clock. He along with Laszlo saw Stephen stroll by; slow enough too pick them out without being obvious and then continue on towards the harbor. He was pleased to also note that Adam, following instructions, was ensconced in the small plaza in front and diverting the attention of the tourists with his drawing. At eleven-forty five he saw Stephen return and enter the cathedral, followed by Laszlo at eleven fifty. It was all as routine, as expected.

At twelve twenty he saw a car pull up to the plaza and then six men exit it, enter the plaza and take up positions around the doors. They were clearly not worried about being seen, nor were they there, he was sure, to admire the cultural treasure that was the Co-Cathedral of St. John. So he broke the mental equivalent of radio silence and passed the news to Stephen. Then he sent Neil and Sheila to positions closer to Adam while he stayed in place. So far it was all still routine.

He saw the doors open after mass and simultaneously the street kids who'd been hanging around trying to cage money from the tourists started to fight, flying at each other from either side of the plaza while adding bloodcurdling sound effects worry of the stage, an action that had a predictable effect on the other occupants, of whom there were many, all waiting for mass to end so they could enter the cathedral. The boys, it seemed, had decided it was time for a paintball fight and thus, so easily, routine had been shot to hell.

He started moving towards the steps, his eyes on Stephen and Laszlo while *telling* Neil and Sheila to get Adam out of there. He was pushing against the crowd when he saw Stephen go down. He started swearing, shoving people out of the way feeling like he was swimming through molasses and seeming to take for ever to reach him.

He saw the pooling blood first, followed by the arm in a position no arm had ever been intended to assume, then he saw that Stephen was conscious and trying stand and, suddenly he was neither. Baz moved to swearing in three languages at once and…finally…he was there. He knelt, touched his shoulder and then they were both gone.

They reappeared in the only place Baz could visualize at the Refuge, having never spent much time there, in the hallway outside Stephen's office still kneeling next Stephen, who was still bleeding out, bright red and fast, leading Baz to conclude an artery had been hit. He wasted no more time. He emitted a vocal and mental shout that was probably audible in the next county, the only name he could think of: "TOMMY." Stephen exsanguinating in front of him was not part of the plan.

Tommy  had shared a comfortable breakfast with Reno trying to convince him that, honestly, they had nothing to hide. He'd even taken him back to his office and turned him loose on ten years of documentation of every effort Stephen had made to work with the Council. As evidence it was damning. They'd just begun to go through them, Reno reading and asking questions and Tommy answering them when Baz's shout rattled Tommy's teeth and the windows as well. It brought Tommy tumbling out of his office and into the hall, Reno right behind him, along with everyone else along the corridor who'd heard it which meant everyone. Over the course of the next thirty seconds it became evident to anyone who'd ever wondered why Stephen had chosen Tommy as his aide.

He took the situation in with a glance and sending a mental call to Baylee that made it plain delay wasn't an option he shoved Baz out of the way, while pulling his shirt over his head. He'd packed the shirt against Stephen's back and was bearing down hard on it when Baylee arrived.

He stayed there as Baylee, glowing golden before she'd even reached them, knelt on the other side of Stephen and went to work. She plunged deep into his body following the knife wounds to the artery , placed a temporary patch then immobilized the arm enough to move him. Then she, Stephen and Tommy were gone.

Baz rising to his feet and ignoring the babble of questions that had started as soon as they had disappeared, said in a voice loud enough to be heard and that clearly expected obedience, "Enough. Somebody clean up this mess and the rest of you…haven't you something you should be doing rather than standing here to no purpose?" Centuries of aristocratic breeding and the genes of his Norman conqueror forebears showed in every line, was unmistakable in every syllable. Without waiting to see if they obeyed him he turned to the man nearest him. "Show me where they have taken him."

Reno, a man not inclined to taking orders from strangers paused long enough to make it plain he was making his own decision in the matter, then turned and led the way to the infirmary, not even having to think about the fact that that was the one place at the Refuge he wanted to be as well. And that this was one man he wouldn't mind chatting with.

"Should we send resources to Malta? Anyone else hurt?" Reno's eyes glazed over for a second as he relayed this on priority to Marc.

Baz made his own connection, provided no reaction to his knowledge of Malta and said, calmly, "No, just him. I suspect they will be some time at this. Do you know anything about how good that woman is at her job?"

"She's the best they've got. He'll be fine. I'm Reno by the way. Tommy's a pretty fast thinker. But then I wouldn't expect anything else, working for Stephen." By now they were at the Infirmary front door.

Baz considered his options. Introduce himself or not? Use his real name or not? He opted for truth, usually the best choice in any situation, at least to a point. He held out his hand, "I'm Baz."

Reno glanced at it and decided that the blood would wash off. "It's nice to meet you."

"Indeed."

"I don't suppose you know who did this? Or why? What were you guys up to in Malta anyway?" Reno hesitated then added, "I know. You won't answer. Never mind. Consider me thinking out loud, although Marc would like the answers to those questions."

Baz gave a harsh laugh. He liked a dry sense of humor. "No doubt he would. But you must realize the answers are not mine to give. Though I will say I have no idea who did this. How is it, since we are being frank with our questions at least, that you know of Malta?"

They entered the Infirmary and found Stephen, with Baylee still working on him, looking considerably better all ready. Well, that didn't take much. Just the fact he wasn't leaking blood all over the place helped.

"How's he doing?" Reno asked Tommy who was pale and trying hard not to hover too closely.

"We got to him in time," Tommy said thankfully.

"Marc would have really been pissed if he'd gotten himself killed before they had those drinks," Reno commented.

"A meeting whose details I am not, alas, privy to" Baz said. "What else did Marc have to say when you shared this news with him just now?"

"The man can curse in a whole bunch of languages," Reno replied.

"It is a facility we share, then. If I were to linger, would I be granted the felicity of meeting him?"

Tommy, hearing his question, just gaped at him.

"I think he'd like very much to meet you. But at the moment he's ...otherwise occupied."

"Ah, I am not surprised with all he has on his plate just now. Let us hope this...unfortunate incident, shall I call it, will not add more. As to meeting me, I would also value the opportunity to meet him. But, as I say, I quite understand, a man of his responsibilities..." Baz let his voice trail off, regret informing every note. He was enjoying his encounter with this man.

"Yeah well... oh shit..." The oh shit made no sense to Baz for a second but then a body was shimmering into existence. He was not particularly tall, dark hair with a white streak through it, a compact and totally trained body from his stance. He wore slacks and a dress shirt open, with no tie. He looked as if he'd been dressing, as there was a cuff-link in one sleeve but not in the other.

"How is he?" Marc asked without preamble.

Tommy, bludgeoning his wits into place said with admirable steadiness. "He'll live. You're missing a cuff-link." He'd tried to stop the words but they were faster than he.

Marc looked down at his sleeve. "How does he stand you, Tommy? Do not, Reno, I repeat, do not, acquire the need to be my dresser."

"Uhm, no sir," Reno said, struggling to keep a straight face.

Tommy, dumbfounded, thought of three things to say and jettisoned them all in self preservation. Did the man know that only women had dressers? Men had valets. And I'm very good at my job, thank you very much!

Marc stepped forward to consider Stephen where he lay. He held a hand out which glowed and then gave a satisfied nod. At Baylee's look Marc commented, "Not that I don't trust your abilities, but his life is, at the moment, quite important to me."

Baz nodded. "It is good to know that you recognize his value."

Marc turned to Baz and considered him for a moment. "Is your correct title Lord Sutcliffe? I've never paid much attention to that sort of thing I'm afraid. I'm told that your people did all you could to protect him but that, as happens so often, things went pear shaped suddenly. I do hope you will convince him to stop taking such risks until we can understand just who attempted to assassinate him."

Baz had, listening to Marc, reason to be grateful for years of practice controlling every reaction as he registered the information that Marc, in all probability had had someone there as well. A lot of people it seemed had felt a need to be in that piazza today. "I am as you say, Lord Sutcliffe." He accompanied the acknowledgement with a slight bow. "But you interest me. You believe that Stephen himself was the target? And not, perhaps, the person he was meeting?"

"He was separated from you, as I understand it. The person you were meeting, was he attacked as well?"

Baz replayed in his mind the moments on the plaza. "No, my attention was on Stephen, though I am informed he got away unscathed." Baz studied him. "I may be a fool, but I think....My colleagues were tasked with ensuring the safety of someone other than Stephen's friend. So you will understand..."

Marc waved away his last statement. "Then it seems clear to me their target was Stephen. They may not have arranged the incident but they clearly were prepared to take advantage of it."

"It is possible that you are correct all things considered." Baz said and then changed the subject. "I do not have the sort of influence over Stephen that you appear to hope. I shall do my best, though, to help him towards a reasonable risk management plan. Have you a suggestion?"

"I would take it as a personal favor if you did so, Lord Sutcliffe. Is there anything I can do for you?'

Baz smiled, "I think perhaps, it is very possible you and I have a number of goals in common. Thus, allow me to hope that if I may ever be of service to you, you will not find yourself hindered in requesting it."

Marc's answering smile was wolfish. "One day, you may be very sorry for that offer. But rest assured, I will ask."

"Ah, but that is the spice in the dish, is it not?"

Marc nodded his agreement then turned to Reno. "I want a face to face tomorrow, please. Be sure they need for nothing."

"Sure," Reno replied. And Marc popped out. Reno breathed again.