MI6 Headquarters, London

Someone knocked on the door when we're focused on chasing down the leads we have. "Come in." Uncle Roland said, in his usual formal tone. The door opened and a young man walked in, dressed in a long overcoat with a button down and pants. "Isa, do you remember James Collins?" he asked. I looked up from Tanner's computer and glanced at the man for a while. I remembered him and flashed a smile. James is one of the SAS pilots I've met during the op to take out the Taliban forces in Afghan.

I walked up to him and shook his hand. "Hello James." I smiled. "It's been a while."

"I see that you changed a lot." he said. "Your mother and my mother were good friends." James didn't came for my mother's funeral which I understand and we didn't know that we would reunite that day on the airfield of Burqa.

"James joined MI6 upon his discharge from the military." my uncle explained. "Same time as you joined the Americans."

"I guess you're just like your mother Isabella." he said. "So, how can I help out?"

"James will be looking after you during your stay in Britain." the chief informed me. "I know that you two were close friends."

"Chief, I need time to jug my memory." I said. "I can't be sure that I recognize them."

"Time isn't on our side Major Isabella." he countered. "But your need of time is understandable." he said. After that we left the MI6 headquarters and is now walking towards the Tube station. I have no idea that James went to join the intelligence sector and neither did he.

"Time flies a lot Isabella." James said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his overcoat. "You have grown beautiful."

"I'm already married James." I said with a laugh. "Better keep that to yourself."

"Oh." he said. "That's... unfortunate for me."

"Then you better get a girlfriend." I smiled.

"You haven't told me about the two men with you."

"James, you forgot Dominic already?" I asked. "You met him in Burqa."

"That's Dominic?" James asked. "Last time I saw him, he had a beard."

"General Hayes has to keep up appearances." I said. "Being the United States Secretary of Defense after all."

"What about him?" he asked.

"The man beside him is Timothy Brock, a Secret Service agent."

"Secret Service agent?"

"So, what kind of case you're really busy with? I can tell that you didn't know that I work for the American government now."

"Come on, you know me."

"I can still ask the chief." I said.

"I haven't ask, which division did you work for?"

"Me? The FBI."

"And what position warranted the protection of the United States Secret Service?" Collins asked me as the train arrived on the platform. I kept my hood on ever since we left and curiously, nobody still recognized us.

"VPOTUS." I replied. James stared at me, his eyes wide. "I knew that face."

"I've heard rumors but I did not expect it to be true."

"Now you know James." I smiled, plugging in my earphones again. James then closed his eyes, taking a brief nap and I woke him up when we reached Westminster. Timothy and Dominic was silent the entire time when we leave the building.

"So, where are we heading?" James asked.

"You aren't aware where does the chief live?" I asked. "He lives in the neighborhood close to Downing Street."

"The chief kept to himself a lot I'm afraid." James told me. "Are you related to him in any manner?"

"In private terms I would call him my uncle." I replied. James stopped dead in his tracks, turning to access me from head to toe.

"You always kept to yourself, just like Aunt Alice." he said. "I'm not surprised if there are more to you than meets the eye."

"Maybe James. I still did tumble around in business."

"Going into your father's company?"

"He's history now." I replied. "I don't blame you but my parents divorced when I was ten."

"Divorced? Oh lord." he said. "On what grounds?" I rolled my eyes at him. "It's a private affair I guess."

"Of course it's private. How can I even tell you anything?" I replied, opening the door and entering the household. "It's not long, been for a few months for internship."

"He's the CEO and did he know about you being an intern?" he asked, removing the coat and dropping it off on the coat rack, revealing the button down shirt.

"I asked for the Human Resources Department to keep it a secret for me." I replied. "I chose to go incognito, because I'm holding my business studies with the United States Military Academy."

"The legendary West Point?" he asked.

"Dom is also a West Point graduate." I added. "I think he didn't tell you that."

"Smug as ever Isabella, smug as ever." he said, smiling. We entered the living room to find it empty. "You were expecting someone?" he asked me.

"They must've been in the study." I muttered, climbing the stairs. James was cautious, withdrawing his gun and putting himself in front of me while Timothy flanked my back. When I reached the study I turned the door knob and pushed the door open. James looked inward, his weapon unwavering as he scouted the situation in front of him. The study was a complete mess : books on the shelves were not arranged neatly, some stacked on the ground and some are left open on the table. I clenched my fists as I surveyed the mess in front of me.

"Who were staying here you say?" James asked me.

"The whole gang's in trouble after what we did in Burqa." I explained. Placing my hoodie on the coat rack I proceeded to pick up the messy books and arranged them back on the shelves. "He's not going to like this when he comes back." I muttered in Norwegian.

"You spoke Norwegian." I whirled to look at James.

"Just because that your father is the UK ambassador to Norway doesn't mean that you're the only one can speak Norwegian when we converse." I added. "You laughed at me before."

"And now I apologize." he said. "You need help?"

"I'll manage." I replied, while examining the book covers. "They even flipped out one of my favorite books."

"Vikings?" James glanced at the cover. "And I thought that was my favorite."

"Lovely." I said, in a sarcastic manner. "Now where did they go?" I muttered. "Um... you two okay?" I asked as Timothy and Dom froze on the sights of the study.

"Your uncle's a real scholar Isabella. Just look at all these books." Dom speaks up.

"These books belonged to grand-uncle Fabian." I said. "They must've came here for the information."