Doppelleben

©October 31 2008

It had been so long since Angela had been able to distinguish the difference between reality and imagination, she was not sure the sounds that invaded the darkness were real or just another cruel joke her mind was playing. Struggling, she listened to what she thought was the rapid fire of gunshots and quite possibly an explosion. Her body so weak, Angela wrestled to understand, wondering, no, hoping that the darkness would engulf her once more and this time it would be jealous enough to keep her.

Angela could feel the darkness creeping towards her like a lion stalking its prey. She prayed this time she would be allowed to die. A small sigh washed over her lips a she sank into silent unconsciousness.

Urs stood, his back hugging the wall and pushed the small red button on the small black box no bigger than a matchbox that he held in his hand. He was safe but as the door exploded he still turned his head in a protective move.

Walking up to the now buckled metal door with the stride of a man on a mission, his cold, steely gaze matching his very purposeful steps. Urs wore a black T-shirt and denim jeans rounded off with a pair of cowboy boots.  His T-shirt bore several knife cuts, the stains of sweat and blood, his blood. A bullet had grazed his side but Urs felt none of this. His tanned and well-toned body tensed as the site before him assaulted his senses.

“Dear God in heaven.”

Urs’ emotions told him to rush to her side. His training kept him in his place. All his finely tuned senses surveying the room, looking for booby traps, and exit sites other than the doorway where he now stood, listening for anything that would alert him to trouble. Satisfied that the room was empty except for Angela and there was only a small window so high up the wall it would be of no use. He took a step closer to her securing his gun in his belt in the middle of his back as he approached.

What he saw gripped at his heart. Angela was shackled to a bed by her wrists and ankles. All four appendages stretch to their full length. Urs grimaced knowing she would have suffered agonising cramps as her body tried in vain to relieve the tension in her muscles. His eyes fell on the raw, bloody wounds around her wrists and ankles where the shackles had cut deep into her flesh.

Urs had spent a lifetime keeping his emotions, his feelings buried so deep that he had almost forgotten how to feel but kneeling next to the bed looking upon Angela’s face, a bruised, swollen face. Urs had to swallow hard to stop his rage from escaping. Silent tears cut a path down his face as he gently ran his finger over her cracked, dry lips. Then lovingly he touched what was left of her hair. She used to have the most luxurious light brown hair with a small hint of a curl that Urs loved to watch as it cascaded down her back to her waist bouncing when she walked. It looked like someone had taken to her with a blunt knife. Her hair now mattered with her blood and sweat, cut short, to short. Urs tried hard not to think of the other atrocities that would have been inflicted upon in the weeks she had been missing. How deep would the scars search for a home? Would she be able to resume her life? How much would her ordeal change her? Most importantly, would she ever find it in her to forgive him? For Urs was the reason she now lay before him, tortured, punished for her choice to befriend him, to help him.   

He lent in to kiss her on the cheek. “I am sorry Ange. I promise I will get you home.”

Urs heard a small groan escape from her lips and her eyelids fluttered just a little as she struggled to open her eyes. They felt so heavy but Angela had heard something different, a new voice. The groan that Urs had heard was a sigh, a realisation that she was still alive. Death had tormented her again, inviting her to be embraced by it then pushing her back. She wanted to look upon the face of this new assailant. Maybe they would be the one to end it all for her.

“Angela….Ange….Angel …..Can you hear me?”

Her eyes fluttered open and Urs sucked in his breath. The Angela he knew was not looking back at him, she was gone, no light, no life shone from her eyes. In that moment Urs understood he had arrived none too soon. He swore not realising he had said it aloud until he got a reaction from Angela. 

There was something about the face she looked into, there was no malice, his eyes were kind and sad, yet they held a distance in them. Was this how it would be? Her deliverer was to look like an angel, ironic as she remembered her nickname. Her captives had saved him for the very last. Her final earthly pain to die at the hands of one who, who what? Her thoughts drifted.

Urs’ voice stopped Angela from falling back into the darkness. “Ange….It’s Urs.”

Her eyes flickered open. Angela stared at his face and waited for the torture to begin, willing it, wanting it, waiting to be consumed by it. What happened next scared her more than anything else since her torture began. His touch so gentle, so tender as he placed his lips on her cheek, yet Angela flinched and turned her head.

So this was how it was to be. This assailant was to torture her with the very thing she had been without for so long. Angela would rather be beaten, be dragged by her hair around the compound, left in the sun for hours to cook than to die by the soft touch of this man. His touch would indeed be the cruelest blow. Like his voice, his touch held some familiarity. Had he been to torture her before and she had forgotten?  Angela groaned and tried hard to put all the pieces of the puzzle together.

“Ange.” Urs lent in and spoke softly in her ear. “It’s me Ange…Urs. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Angela turned her head and tried to focus on his face. “No more. Please……let me die. I can’t tell you anything.”

Urs gritted his teeth understanding she had no idea who he was. He went to run his hand through her hair and she flinched, closing her eyes to wait for the pain to start.

Urs removed his hand from her, swore, and stood, looking around the room for something to throw. Apart from the bed that Angela lay on and the shackles that hung from the wall there was nothing. Frustrated Urs he let out the most gut wrenching cry, clenching his hands into tight fists as he let all the air escape from his lungs. While Urs had been shouting, Angela had drifted back into the darkness, his cries traveling with her.

Swinging back around to look down at her Urs pulled his radio from his jeans pocket. “Seb, how far out are you?”

Through the static Sebastien replied. “Holding pattern about five clicks out. We can be there in minutes.”

“Move in.” Urs once again knelt down beside the bed and stroked her cheek. “We need to get her home.”

Sebastien’s voice came through the static, the thumping sound of the helicopter outside getting louder as it got closer. “Urs is she…..”

“She’s alive.”

Now that she was unconscious Urs gently ran his fingers through her hair, giving her a sweet, soft, tender kiss on the lips before bowing his head and wondering how they had ended up where they were

Five years earlier

Simon Cowell looked down at the four photos on his desk then back at the man who sat opposite.

The two men had been friends for a long time but Simon was in shock; up until ten minutes ago he thought he knew everything there was to know about Reg, apparently not.  His friend had left out a small detail of his life. He was a Director of Interpol not the CEO of Hubble and Hyde, one of the largest shipping companies in the world. Reg had not been a Director when He and Simon met but he had still been with Interpol.

Simon shook his head again. “Bloody hell Reg drop a bomb shell why don’t you.”

Reg smiled, he liked Simon, no beating around the bush Simon, told it like it was Simon. That is why when the idea had first been born; Simon had been on the top of his list to recruit for help. “So what do you think?”

Simon was still dazed. “What do I think? Give me a minute will you. Not only are you telling me I have no idea who my best friend is but you want me to pull these guys together into a band. One bomb shell at a time.”

“You know who I am Simon. You just didn’t know what I did and even that is not entirely accurate. I was, I am the CEO of Hubble and Hyde but the company belongs to Interpol.”

Reg got the surprised look from Simon he was expecting. “Wait a minute. You are telling me that the biggest shipping company on the planet is ….”

Reg smiled again. “Yes….. Interpol.  What better way to move people and equipment around the globe without raising suspicion.”

“And the whole time we have known each other?”

Reg nodded. “Afraid so old chap.”

“Hey watch with the old.”

Both men laughed and it seemed to Reg that Simon relaxed a little, though a small frown appeared on his face as he picked one of the photos off his desk. “And these guys, they all work for you, spies?”

“Agents, they all work for Interpol.”

Simon dropped the photo back on the desk. “Do they know each other?”

Reg had a glint in his eyes as he replied. “Not yet.”

“Reg, seriously. I don’t know about this. Can they at least sing? They have to be able to sing.”

In that instant Reg knew Simon would come on board. He loved a challenge and what he was asking him to do was nothing if not a challenge. Reg pulled a small recording device out of his breast pocket and put it on top of the photos already on the desk. “Find out for yourself Simon. I think you will be impressed.”

Again, Simon frowned switching on the device. Both men sat in silence as they listened to four tracks, each one showcasing a different singer.”

As the recording came to an end Simon just sat, not moving. His mind racing then he looked at Reg. “Opera. Reg they all sing opera except for one. I might be able to do something with him but the others. Opera…… You’ve got to be kidding me right? Has Interpol got some kind of secret singing school for classical singers? Reg they sing Opera. Damn good voices but Opera. What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Make them famous for twelve months?”

Simon opened his mouth and shut it again.

“Simon if anyone can do this you can and Interpol will pay handsomely for your services.”

“Pay. I’m not worried about being paid; I’m worried about my reputation. Let me think about it. I need to think about it.”

Reg stood and shook Simon’s hand over the desk. “Call me tomorrow Simon. We need to move on this as soon as we can.”

“Reg even if I agree to help you this is not going to happen over night you know.”

“That’s what we are counting on. We want you to do everything just how you would with any other up and coming stars. Tomorrow Simon.”

Simon waited for Reg to leave the office before returning to the recording device on his desk and played back the songs. He listened to them over and over again for almost an hour. In that same hour an idea was forming on the outskirts of his mind. As it nudged its way to the surface Simon smiled. If he pulled this off it would be a miracle, if he pulled it off there would be a lot of kudos, if he didn’t…. Well that thought was not one he wanted to ponder for too long.

Simon found himself sitting opposite his friend once again the next morning. “You knew I couldn’t let this go didn’t you Reg?”

“Well I was hoping you would see your way to helping us.”

Simon raised his hand. “I need some answers first before I agree to anything.”

Reg nodded. “I will answer as many questions as I can for you Simon.”

Simon took a deep breath, he already knew he was going to help, what he wanted was information as much information as he could. “Why these four? Why do you want them in the music industry? Surely they would be a better way to go undercover if that is what you are after.”

Reg adjust himself in his seat. “Undercover as you put it would have been simple. This is just a little more complicated. As I said before they all work for Interpol, they all got plucked from their lives fairly early for their talents.”

Simon still had the photos on his desk so Reg pushed one towards him. “This one for his linguistic abilities, he’s Swiss by birth.”

Simon looked at the photo; he would have thought Italian, even a percentage of Asian was not out of the question with his oval eyes and olive complexion. Reg pushed another photo forward. “This one for his IT skills, even as a teenager this one was way ahead of the game. I am guessing Interpol wanted him before the CIA or FBI grabbed him for the homeland.”

Simon smiled.  He had no idea why but the guy looked like a yank.

Another photo was pushed towards him. “This one.”  Reg smiled before he continued. “He almost did not make the cut. They were looking at him as a linguist but as a young man he was far too…”

While Reg looked for the words Simon helped him out. “Passionate.”

Reg smiled. “Exactly, that is a very good description of our Spanish friend. He was sent back to the Spanish government but once Interpol have you in their sights it is very hard to become invisible again so they kept an eye on him and it seemed that he surprised them with his all round abilities. Master of disguise as well.”

Simon pulled the last picture towards himself. “And this one?”

“Arh. Sebastien, our French Prince.”

Simon gave Reg a puzzled look.

“Not a real Prince but he has such a boyish way about him he can make anyone believe what he is telling you is the truth, get people to trust him so completely they will do anything for him. And that boy can fly anything with wings.” Reg paused and smile just a little. “Actually I think that is an understatement if it was meant to be in the air Sebastien can fly it. I think he could probably fly things that are not supposed to be in the air as well. Totally wasted in the French Police, totally.”

Simon looked to his friend. “Okay I get why they were picked but now you want them to be singers.”

Reg sighed. “How about I give you the condensed version and when I am done if you still have any questions…”

Simon nodded his agreement and Reg launched into what he hoped would be enough history to keep Simon on side.  “Without going into all the details while these young men were being trained by Interpol other gifts began to surface, were worked on, their skills fine tuned and they all ended up as field agents. Very good field agents. Simon these four guys have been with Interpol for over ten years. Considering some of the missions they have been on that is a long time.” Reg paused and Simon saw the shadow creep across his face. “A long time.” Reg shook the oppression off. “I guess without knowing it all four of them came to a decision at the same time. Simon these guys have a few things in common. They all want out and they are all singers. They’ve all made reference to wanting to try their hand in the world of music.”

“So what are you trying to do, set them up with a new career? Just let them loose and they can try for themselves. They may find working for Interpol is a whole lot easier than trying to get a break in the music industry.”

Reg gave Simon a tired smile. “Simon, have you ever heard of a retired spy? No such thing. The company has a strong hold on all its agents. I should know. These days I am a Director but I really was the CEO of Hubble and Hyde, Interpol’s way of putting me out to pasture as I was past my used by date as a field agent. Thought I was going to be stuck in the damn shipping office for the rest of my life. Be it a gift or a curse I was nominated for Director. Not a position you turn down if you get my meaning.  I have no illusions as to who my employer is even at my rank. But these four are upsetting all the wrong people of late with their talk of wanting out. Simon I am trying to keep them alive.”

This news was a shock to Simon, not what he had expected at all. “Alive, you mean they can’t just quit, walk away?”

“No, well yes they could but their life span would be rather short. I am hoping this plan will give them what they want, for the powers that be to allow them to keep breathing. A chance to pursue something that is obviously very dear to them all. A chance to do what I didn’t get to do. A chance for me to keep them alive.”

“So you’re giving them a leave of absence for twelve months?”

Reg shook his head. “Not really. They will be approached with the option of pursuing this singing career, Interpol will pull them out of the field for a while but they will still need to be available for some smaller assignments. Mostly the transfer of information.”

Simon smiled. “And you are hoping that in twelve months they will have it all out of their systems and go back to being good little Interpol agents.”

“Pretty much….. Simon I could just let them try and walk away but I have dealt with these four men over the years and….” He never finished.

“You old softie Reg, they got to you didn’t they? Somehow. I wonder what Interpol would say if they knew why you are really doing this.”

Another dark cloud crossed Reg’s face. “To save four lives Simon. To save four lives.”

Reg had other reasons, none of which he could or would discuss with Simon. He had to smile at Simon’s next comment; it only confirmed he had been right to push to have him come on board.

“So Reg. Do I guess right that there are reasons why Interpol want them all together?” Simon paused. “Don’t worry I’m not going ask what they are. But you sure have given me a challenge.”

Reg stood on the footpath looking back at the office building he had just come from while his chauffeur waited at the car with the door open. He took a deep breath. “I really hope this works Simon for all our sakes.”      

By the time Reg was back at his office he had drafted several memos on his laptop and sent them to the armature theatre companies that the four agents belonged. One to Simon as well as a memo to all four agents knowing that each one had not long completed an assignment.

David was relaxing back at home in his New York apartment listening to a Broadway recording of La Bohem. He had been on assignment for the past few months and it had been tough. His cover almost blown in Prague, only getting out by the skin of his teeth. It seemed to him that he had spent more time in Europe than he did in his own country. The reality, he was right. Looking out over the nights-cape of New York; he was thinking about going back to his home town and spending a few days with family. This always made him feel human again after a rough assignment.

David adjusted himself in his seat and winced a little, pulling up the side of his shirt he could see the bruise that had developed around his broken rib. He was going to have to take it easy for a while. He smiled, picking up the phone to call his mother to say he would be home for the weekend and wondering if signing up for Interpol at such a young age had been the right choice.  Wincing again with the pain, he also wondered if it was time to give it up, try a new life. One that did not involve trying to live in the shadows and lying to his friends about what he did. All of whom, including his family thought he was some hot shot IT trouble shooter. Yes, a few days at home was exactly what he needed.

 Carlos was standing off to the side unnoticed at the passenger terminal of Madrid Airport.  All his hard work of the past few months had come down to this. So Carlos watched the arrivals while others watched him for the signal.  Seeing her come through the gate he smiled and walked out of the shadows. She was a black beauty. At least that is how Carlos saw her. Jet black hair, pale skin, striking features but her heart was black as well. He was dealing with a formidable adversary, one wrong move and his life would be over. Her reputation preceded her. 

So far she was unaware of Carlos’ hidden identity or agenda. He knew she was selling Spain’s national secrets, he knew that today she was returning to Spain with information on terrorist attacks planned for the near future in the hopes of  black mailing the government into handing over a ridiculous amount of money. He also knew that the information she had was very real. His own sources had confirmed that. He needed the information to bring down the terrorists needed to stop her. Today was that day.

They smiled at each other and Carlos gave her a welcoming Kiss. “Welcome home Bella.” He dropped his eyes to the ground and took her briefcase from her. “I am sorry.”

She looked at him a little puzzled until several other men surrounded her as Carlos stepped back. They introduced themselves for the agents they were, handcuffed her and lead her away.

Carlos felt a pat on the back. “Well done Carlos.”

Carlos handed the case to his boss, Reg and walked away in silence. He knew she was a dangerous woman and she had betrayed the country he loved. But he felt like he had betrayed her somehow. Not that she would have hesitated to but a knife into his own heart if she had found out. Carlos walked out of the terminal feeling weary and worn. His life had not been as he had expected. His first contact with Interpol had not gone too well and he had felt dejected at not being accepted into their ranks but now that he had been with them far longer than he cared to think, he was wondering whether he had been too eager when a few years later they had approached him again. 

Back in the confines of his car he sat with his head back, eyes closed and thought about his life. In some ways Interpol had been good for him. They had allowed him the freedom to pursue his singing hobby and he had been lucky enough to find himself in a number of productions over the years. He frowned remembering how Interpol had used some of these productions and his performances for their own purposes; they had taken the innocence out of the art. Carlos opened his eyes and stared straight ahead, sighed heavily and wondered if it was not time to cut his ties with Interpol. 

Sebastien was livid, looking at himself in the mirror, his face all bloody and bruised. Even when he cleaned himself up he was going to look a mess.  Moving to wash his face he winced and grabbed at his side. Gently he took off his ripped shirt, another that would need replacing. His upper body didn’t look much better than his face. Bruised and swollen, dried blood clinging to his skin from several superficial knife cuts; cuts that could have been much worse. He had been under cover for almost a year and this was not the first time he had taken a beating. Sebastien had been sent by Interpol deep undercover in the French Secret Police to compile a report on the corruption. He had been saddened by what he had found out about his countrymen. Men that if Interpol had not recruited him could have been his colleagues. Today’s beating at the hand of corrupt police because he refused to hand over protection money was the last straw. That was enough. He was going to finish his report.

Looking into the mirror he wondered if he should be thinking about a completely different career. He smiled at the thought that flashed across his mind...... Singing. Maybe he could go back to eking out a living as a singer. It was the one thing that had kept him sane all these years and the one thing he would have pursued with more determination if not for Interpol.  He had been undercover and pretending to be so many other people for so long Sebastien was wondering how much of himself was left. Cursing as he moved and his body told him he was in for a painful recovery, he decided it was time to call it quits.

Urs sat at the edge of the bed pulling on his t shirt and shorts as a hand came over his shoulder, gently pulled him back onto the bed. With a very seductive voice his female companion spoke. “Urs are you so eager to leave after such a delightful experience?”

Urs bent over and kissed her tenderly. “What would you have me do? Did you not say you wished time to get ready for this evening?”

She pulled him a little closer. “Have a shower with me.” With that she playfully pushed him back on the bed and stood, walking to the bathroom in all her naked beauty. Urs smiled a little as she disappeared, then stuck her head around the corner.
 “Well… Joining me or not?”

Urs stood, walked to the bathroom with a little sadness in his eyes. The evening was coming to an end. Before she got into the shower he pulled her towards him. She smiled and kissed him and he pulled away just a little, placing his hand on her shoulders so he could look into her eyes.

“I am sorry I have to do this.”

“Do what Urs?”

In a swift, silent move he broke her neck, catching her limp body as it fell lifeless into his arms, taking her back to the bed where he replaced the shirt she had been wearing and covered her with the sheets.  She looked like she was sleeping. Urs went back into the bathroom, took a shower, dressed, and wiped down everything in the room he had touched, left nothing behind that would suggest that he had even been there. Holding a bag full of garbage in one hand he took one last glance at the body in the bed before he cleaned off the door handle, closing the door behind him.

Once in the hallway he cleaned the external handle to the room and rested against the wall, his head bowed just a little. He had done the right thing of that he was very sure. What worried him was the fact that he felt nothing. No remorse, no guilt, no pity for his victim, no empathy, nothing. He was numb and it seemed he had been numb far too long. There had to be more to life than this? Moving from one assignment to another.

In the beginning it seemed so easy; all he ever did was translate until that fateful day when he had shown them he was made of much more. He felt like Interpol had owned his heart and soul since that day.

Urs walked down the hallway throwing the bag into the hotels incinerator chute the only thought in his mind was to be free. Maybe being free one day he would learn how to feel again.

Reg was having the last of the meetings he had set up with Carlos, Sebastien, David and Urs. He had made the decision to stagger them over several days to make very sure the men did not run into each other. He could have gone to them but considering what he was doing and the fact that the men where used to being called into his office for debriefing, he felt more at ease behind his own desk and this morning Urs sat opposite him.  

As with the others he had started out with the usual debriefing meeting, Reg always found Urs the hardest to connect with, if he was honest with himself, the young man who sat opposite scared him. So cold…. never giving anything away. Yet Reg had heard him sing and it was hard to believe that a man who was so cold, so unfeeling could be so passionate, so tender and gentle with the songs he sang and such a voice. Reg had seen Urs weave his magic and watched women crumble at the sound of his voice. He also knew that Urs would be the most skeptical about the plan he was trying to unfold.

Urs stared back at Reg wanting to believe what the Director was saying but having been with Interpol for so long he waited for the  BUT………..Letting out a small breath when it came, learning early on that things were never what they seemed with his employer.

“Yes Urs there is a condition to all this so called leave. We need you to be available for smaller runs, nothing major just information transfers. To be honest not knowing what you plan to do with yourself for the next twelve months you could just make yourself unavailable.”

Again Urs just looked at the Director, was he giving him an ‘out’, a way that he could truly be free for twelve months. It was certainly better than the alternative as Reg had made it perfectly clear that quitting was never going to be an option. “They are not going to pull me in after six months for an assignment? This just seems too simple, to easy.”

Reg shook his head. “No Urs twelve months.”

After a few moments Urs stood, shaking Reg’s hand across the table. “Then I think we have a deal.”

Urs did not let go of the Directors hand immediately but gripped it a little tighter. “But I warn you Reg…..”

Urs’ inference was not lost on Reg or the fact that he had used his name, something that Urs never had done before always calling him Sir or Director.

Reg gave Urs a hesitant smile and tried to make light of what had turned into a very dark situation. “I know Urs you’ll have to kill me.”

Urs did not answer only bowed is head just a little as he squeezed Reg’s hand one more time to make his point before he left.

As Urs pulled on his helmet and mounted his motor cycle he mulled the meeting over in his mind. It was too simple, his instincts were screaming that there was much more to it than trying to keep him happy, giving him a well deserved break, much more. Nevertheless, if it meant he got some time to himself he was willing to play along…..for a while at least.

Back in his office Reg updated each of the men’s files and wondered if the plan would work, absentmindedly rubbing his hand.

Several months after his meeting with Reg, David was sitting in a small waiting room which he had been shown to when he had arrived at the office of Delfin Productions, audition invitation in hand. At first he had thought it was someone’s idea of a joke. Knowing he was to have more time on his hands he had spoken to the theatre company to see if there was any up coming productions they would consider him for. He had been pleased when they called him back with a part. But only a few days into rehearsal David had been given the invitation he now had in his hand, surprised that the company had found a replacement for him should he get the part he was auditioning for. A part he was still very much in the dark about. All he had been told when he had called was that they were looking for classical singers with stage experience. 

David began to pace around the small room, rubbing his hand down the side of his trousers, they were damp with perspiration. It was the first time he could remember being so nervous. He didn’t get nervous; he had nerves of steel, all the Interpol training had made sure he knew how to cope with intense situations. But waiting to sing for someone who may hold the key to your dreams…. David let out a small nervous laugh just as a young lady stuck her head into the room. She gave him the biggest, friendliest smile she could. “They are ready for you now Mr Miller, if you would follow me.”

David nodded and followed her out the room and down the hall in silence only stopping when she stopped to knock on another door. David heard a male voice invite them in.  The young lady opened the door and ushered David into the room but stayed in the hall. As he passed her she smiled again. “You’ll do just fine Mr Miller.”

As David entered a man excused himself and walked passed him, briefly looking David in the eyes. David’s gaze followed Urs until the young lady closed the door. There was something familiar about him but all thoughts of the stranger vanished as David turned to greet the others in the room. He nodded to several individuals but once his eyes fell on Simon his smile left his face and questions began screaming in his head.

Simon stepped forward holding out his hand for David to shake. “I’m guessing by the look on your face you recognise me?”

Both men shook hand as David answered. “Yes Mr Cowell, sure do.  I’m not sure I am in the right place. This is not an audition for some amateur production is it?”

Simon walked back to the desk where the other two men sat taking up his seat between them.

Suddenly David felt even less confident, the butterflies in his stomach very much alive.

Simon’s voice drifted through David’s thoughts. “I should hope I am not wasting my time on amateurs Mr Miller. How about you show us what you can do with that voice of yours and if I like what I hear I will explain what I have planned.”

About an hour later the same young lady escorted a very bewildered David back down the hall passing the waiting room just as Sebastien came out. The men came face to face. “Was that you I heard singing a while ago?”

Silently David nodded his answer and Sebastien shook and dropped his head at the same time. “I am so in the wrong place. I sing pop not classical.”

David was surprised. “You mean you are here for the audition as well?”

It was Sebastien’s turn to nod in silence, not even looking at David but David’s booming laugh got his attention and that of the young lady with them. “Hey buddy if anyone is in the wrong place it was me. Go for it; just give it your best. I am sure you will do just fine.” David held out his hand for Sebastien to shake. “All the best.”

“Mercie.”

David walked to the end of the hall wondering if it was too late to get his part back as the young lady escorted Sebastien into the audition room. It seemed the long haired guy before him and this pop singer who looked like he was recovering from a black eye were more suited to the plans that Simon Cowell had explained to him. David really was not sure if anyone could pull off such a thing but then again if anyone could it would be Simon.

Like Urs, David dismissed the idea as he returned to the hotel. Well he still had twelve months off and he had auditioned for Simon Cowell, which could be a good thing for the future. In a few days he would be back in New York. What David did not realise was Urs had been watching the building, he had waited for David to come out, had seen Sebastien go in and was now watching as another man look from the paper in his hand to the building in front of him knowing it was another person for an audition as he heard him go through a quick practice vocal scale just before he went inside, Carlos.

Urs wondered how many they would see. He watched and waited, seeing Carlos leave about eighty minutes later.  Urs had thought about following him but mentally chided himself for being so suspicious, shook his head and laughed at himself as he began to walk back down the street to the Tube station. He had decided not to ride his bike into town but now wished he had done so, it would have been the perfect opportunity to take himself off for a ride on the city outskirts, get a feel for that freedom he so longed for. When he got back home he would take his bike out for a spin, do some thinking about this so-called vacation Interpol had given him. 

It was not very often that Urs dropped his guard but in those moments as his thoughts ran to all things Interpol it would be one of the very few times, so her voice startled him somewhat as she called his name from behind him. Immediately he turned to see the receptionist from Delfin Productions approaching him with that same sweet smile on her face she had worn while looking after him. Urs frowned a little but she did not seem to notice stopping in front of him. “Do you always mutter to yourself while you walk the city streets Mr Buhler?”
Urs was a little taken back. He had no idea that he had been speaking aloud let alone that anyone had heard him and just a little worried about what she had actually heard considering what he was thinking about at the time.  “I hope my err…muttering did not cause you distress Miss?”

Her laugh was as light as a summer breeze as it sailed effortlessly over her lips and Urs understood that the smile she wore was genuine, not a professional put on for her job. “Maybe.”

Again Urs frowned just a little.

“Are you alright? Not worried about the audition are you? Because I have it on good authority that you are in like Flynn.”

Urs was about to ask her to explain her last comment but she continued as they both walked down the street. “You have a wonderful voice Mr Buhler, haunting at times, very beautiful.”

Urs was stunned. He knew he could sing, had been able to from an early age and it was only by chance on an assignment that someone else realised his talent and had offered to train him classically. At first Urs declined knowing that his job would make it almost impossible to put in the kind of hours needed. Nevertheless, Professor Urban had waved off his excuses and a life long friendship had developed along with his voice.

Urs smiled at the receptionist. “That is very kind of you to say. Do you like classical music?”

He had to smile as she wrinkled up her nose. “Well up until today I would say I was more into Ozzie Osborne, heavy metal, eighties music. But if you are an example of what I have been missing I think I need to do some serious research into this classical stuff.”

This time it was Urs’ turn to let out a hearty laugh. It had been a long time since he’d had a reason to do so and it felt good. “Don’t suppose you’ve heard of a band called Nightwish.”

The receptionist put her hand on his arm making them both stop, her eyes so wide with surprise. “You’re kidding right. You know who Nightwish are? I mean you sing Opera.”

“That maybe but I am rather partial to Ozzie myself.”

“I would love to see the look on Mr Cowell’s face when he gets to know this piece of information.”

Instantly she saw the shadow cross his face, feeling the tension ripple though his body realising she must have said something to upset him. “Oh don’t worry Mr Buhler he won’t hear it from me. I am very good at keeping secrets, very good. However, I think you are quite the conundrum. Are you taking the Tube?”

Urs answered the question almost automatically. “Yes, Why?”

She pointed behind him. “Then I guess this is your stop Mr Buhler.”

Urs turned his head to see that they had stopped outside the entrance to the Tube Station. Turning back he put out his hand. “It has been very pleasant talking to you Miss….I’m sorry I do not know your name.”

Again a beautiful smile appeared, seeming to light up her face and radiating to everything else around her. “Names Angela Mr Buhler. It has been very nice to talk to you as well.”

As they shook hands Urs bent a little as he raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed it. “Angela is a beautiful name and please call me Urs.”

Angela had a somewhat cheeky smile on her face. “Why?”

Again Urs was a little bemused. “Because that is my name.”

“Oh…” Angela made emphasis on the O sound of his name as she went to great lengths to make sure she pronounced it exactly as he had said it. “Unusual, but it fits you almost as well as those jeans you are wearing.” With her words ringing in his ears and his face getting hot as he blushed a little Urs watched as she seemed to skip and bounce down the street rather than walk, waving her hand behind her as she did. “See you around Urs.”

He smiled as he watched her disappear out of sight then all of a sudden her first statement to him knocked on his consciousness. ‘I have it on good authority that you are in like Flynn.’  Did this mean that Mr Cowell was seriously thinking of asking him to join this group he wanted to put together? Now more than ever Urs needed to get on his bike and just ride for a while. It was where he did his best thinking.