The cramped, overcrowded marketplace was filled to the brim with the largest mix of people it would see all year. People from different walks of life, different regions, different countries all came to peruse these exotic wares. Paper lanterns hung from each individual booth, strung out to form a beacon towards the center square, as if to direct the masses where they should eventually end up. It was a relaxing night, and despite the multitude of people there was an atmosphere of calm, save the occasional dispute on price. But how could you put a price on some of these object being sold? Exotic delicacies such as week old preserved eggs, wine infused with snakes, objects that not even the sellers knew what they were. But the more exotic the better, at least to these people, who were here to “culture” themselves with the best way they knew: the spending of money. In between these sects of monetary transactions and wear perusing stood a man whose intent was not to fight through the crowd but instead become enveloped by it. He was a short, stocky man, pale as the papers used for the lanterns, dressed in a dinged up suit of a faded royal blue, as if the mere activity of clothing himself was a struggle. Clean shaven, save for a small nick from his apparent shave, not a hair stood on his round and oblique face. His green, narrow, beedy and bloodshot eyes darted nervously back and forth as if they were a blade of grass thrown about by the wind. This man was not searching for a rare item he was worried may have been bought, or a new deal he had missed, but was instead feverishly looking for those who were looking for him. The irony of him trying to find people in a crowd while he himself was trying to become lost in it was not lost on him, but he could only hope and pray to a multitude of gods his shield of consumers was enough.

Not twenty feet away from the man stood two men with their eyes fixated right upon him. Both dressed identically, dark black suits fitted to the T with no apparent scuffs, from clothing alone they ran parallel to the man they watched. The one on the left, the slightly taller one at around six feet, had a much leaner build than his counterpart. He was younger, given off by the lack of depth and yearly wear to his face, which was rich and full of a sense of younger zuberance. His chestnut brown hair parted to the side, his blue eyes only averting off the target to glance at his partner. His partner, whom he was recently assigned to due to him being a rookie, was shorter, yet well built. One could tell that throughout the years he made sure he kept himself fit and proper. He was noticeably older to a degree, his face rigid and rugged, with the scars of time almost always apparent, as if they cut out a crisscrossed roadmap of the past, of stories that may remain untold. His sunken in brown eyes, short and well kept black hair and his voluminous mustache that rested right above his upper lip only added to his aged and, in a way wise appearance. “Shall we get him now?” inquired his aged partner in his gruff and heavy voice, snapping back his attention to the target at hand. “Of course”, he replied in his deep and clear cut voice, light in comparison to his partner. “Maybe he’ll be next to a great deal on these fantastic products.” His partner, obviously not phased by his sarcasm, began to cut through the crowd, with him right behind him. Their target, the man in the blue, had his back turned to them, obviously worried more about the square than his own back. Right before they reached him, they split to flank him, with the his partner heading to his right while he head to his left. Both of them grabbed the man’s arms at the same time, allowing for the sense of fear, shock, and realization to hit him all at once. “Mr. Henry Davidson”, his partner inquired, his voice adding a new layer of calm and collective terror to the event, “I believe you know why we’re here.” “Y-yo-you’re Pinker-” before he could finish muttering his broken sentence, the blue suited man, Davidson, was quickly cut off and silenced by the tall man. “We can discuss who we are later. Right now you need to come with us.”

Yet as soon as the tall man was finished, two quick gunshots rang out from the center of the square. As panic quickly rippled throughout the marketplace, the consumers and sellers alike lost any sense of organization as they began to scream and run from the shots. As the tall man and his partner reflexively reached for the pistols they had concealed under their suit jackets, Davidson saw his chance and broke away from their grasps and quickly took off with the rest of the crowd. The time for wondering whether or not the shots were related to their capture would have to wait as they quickly pursued after Davidson. As they pushed and shoved their way through the coagulated mass of people, through the fanciful elite and the displaced middle class, they would catch glances of the blue suit that they needed to apprehend.. Despite the need to take Davidson alive, it would have been impossible to line up any semblance of a clear shot anyways. The last thing they needed was their target getting away and a citizen shot. As they quickly approached the end of the marketplace which spilled out onto the street, they lost sight of Davidson, as now the mass of fleeing people was inflated by curious bystanders and authorities trying to corral the sprawling mass of people like ranchers herding frightened cattle. Just briefly, the tall man saw Davidson making a break for it around the corner onto the main street. “He’s heading to the main road!” He quickly notified his partner while beginning his newfound pursuit. As they quickly rounded the corner, they saw Davidson sprinting as fast as his stocky legs would let him, towards the vast and gaudy shipping dock that resided at the end of the road. This night the dock was practically empty save for a single freighter set out to depart from the country quite soon.  Reaching the end of the road and right on Davidson’s heels, his older partner, quickly realizing what Davidson was going to do, shouted “He going to try and jump on the channel freighter! Stay after him, I know what to do!” as he then took a detour and headed to the right around the large warehouse in the middle of the dock. The tall man kept his rapid pursuit, following Davidson right down into the different cargo lanes, running between the dank spaces residing between the crates and barrels awaiting transportation. As they were closing in on the freighter, Davidson knocked over a barrel of what appeared to be a type of fish, forcing the tall man to come to an abrupt stop to prevent himself from slamming into it. This brought Davidson enough time to pass through the ajar security gate and slam it shut, and quickly make sure it was now locked. Stuck on the other side, with no way to pass by the security gate, the tall one thought he was seeing his mission failing right in front of him until his partner, his detour apparently enabling him to beat both of them to the freighter, vaulted out from behind a batch of boxes and quickly tackled Davidson. As his partner securely pinned Davidson to the ground and began to handcuff him, he quipped to the tall one “William?” “Yes?”, the tall one replied. “Remind me to teach you how to improve your running when we get back.” the older one said, half seriously and half jokingly. “As soon as I teach you how to bargain hunt Richard.” replied William. But both men could not help but feel a sense of accomplishment, even if their first foreign mission almost ended in failure. “The next one,” noted William mentally, “that’ll go better. For sure.”
He couldn’t have been further from the truth.