Her hands shook violently as she clutched the piece of paper afraid, that it it would somehow vanish. Small, neat, and slightly smudged, the script looked ordinary. The idea was laughable.  There was no indication of the importance of this address. No outward sign of how how hard she had searched, the sleepless nights, the disappointments, or the sacrifices. Unbelieveably, the location of the Sullivan Map was finally in her reach. Of course that wasn’t its true name; just one she had coined as a reminder why she couldnt give up. Nicholi Sullivan, her grandfather, had searched for the maps location her entire life. When he passed, the duty fell on her and she had the task with an vengeance. 

Two days prior on a particularly fevered bout of research, Mia had found it. Or at least, she was hoping she had. There had been other leads before; always ending in yet another disappointment. However, this address had been the most promising in a long time. She had scarcely let the paper out of her hands; irrationally afraid that she would misplace what had taken her five years too find. Impossible. The location was buurned into her brain. She was an archivist, her job being to find and authenticate artifacts; she knew how to take care of incredibly valuable and fragile information. But this was a personal mission. An obsession of sorts. And one her therapist had deemed, 'unhealtthy.' Well he will have a field day with this trip.

She looked out the window of the cab scanned the foreign city before her. It was night and a quick glance at the dash reminded her it was just past 11pm. The streets were mostly abandoned and by the time they reached the outskirts of the Italian city, they were deserted. Sarsinia. She had visited it before, about two years ago for an assignment. It was a beautiful city and rich with history like much of Europe. However, its beauty was lost on her as the idea of being even in the same city as the map was almost too overwhelming. As soon as she had authenticated the lead, she booked a flight and asked for time off. Was it risky to run off to a forign country alone and poke around ancient chuurches in the middle of thte night? Yes. Had she had a choice? No. She was powerless against her drive for discovery. And while she had only been looking for the map in earnest for five years, it had been missing for more than a lifetime. 

"Are you sure this is the right location ma'am?" The taxi drivers English was heavily accented but she could still sense the concern in his tone. 

She checked the rearview mirror and made eye contact with him from the backseat. He had kind blue eyes that were surrounded by wrinkles. They reminded her briefly of her grandfather and she softened to him involuntarily.  Realizing the direction of her thoughts, she shut the emotions down quickly and hid behind her comfortable mask of professionalism. There was no time for dwelling on the past. 

"Yes, I'm sure."

She recognized that coming to the church this late at night was perhaps not the smartest idea, but she couldn't wait. She had gone directly from the airport to the hotel, only taking a quick minute to drop her bags before calling the taxi. The jet-lag had been no match for her excitement, although she was sure to feel it later. She had done enough International travel to know it was inescapable. Her work kit was tucked safely on her lap, containing everything she needed for her excursion as well as a few safety related items. Thte mace and small pocket knife gave her a feeling of security, even if she had never had to use them. She may be excitable and a little fool hardy, but she wasn’t an idiot. 

"Do you know this area ma'am?" 

His voice was gravelly and it matched his appearance perfectly; 50s, salt and pepper hair, slightly overweight and a stubble that elluded to a few days without a razer.

“This is a rundown part of the city. And it's the middle of the night. Doesn't feel right to leave you here."

She was touched by his kindness and concern, but also felt a thread of irritation at his tone. It was one that she had encountered countless times before from men; slightly condescending with an obvious questioning of her ability to take care of herself. Of course she would be helpless, and need the protection of a man. She squinted as she tried to imagine how he saw her. In her late twenties, Mia stood at around five feet, eight inches. Not tall, but not short either. She was slightly curvier than one might consider ‘ideal’ and was constantly attempting to find jeans that would fit her larger thighs and smaller waist. Her hair, which almost always looked disheveled given its curl, hung about six inches past her shoulders and changed color constantly. She was forever testing her stylists’ patience. Currently, she had settled on a dark red, which was one of her favorites, but she had another appointment the following week, so who knew what it would be then. She had worn comfortable pants and a t shirt for the flight and, she had to admit, looked more prepared to lounge on the couch than carry out dirty work.

She was far from imposing and she could see how the driver might question her ability to be tough when needed. But those truths did little to help her annoyance.

"I appreciate your concern,” she said, somewhat colder than intended,  “But I'm fine. I'm more than capable of taking care of myself, and this is what I do for work." She continued to see the hesitation in his eyes, so she added, “besides I have a colleague already waiting for me there." It was a lie, but she felt no guilt. “He is just inside.” She watched as the driver instantly relaxed at the idea of her safety being another man's problem. Her hands fisted as she worked to keep her emotions in check. After a few minutes, the cab began to slow and her body relaxed.  

"We are here.”

She looked quickly out of the taxi window, the very  slight outline of a building in the distance catching her eye. Before he could say another word, she grabbed her items, paid him and stepped from the warm interior of the car.

It had been raining, so the ground was saturated and muddy, quickly staining the hem of her blue yoga pants and testing her water proof boots. She looked up at the open sky as the taxi drove off, sending a little prayer of thank you to Mother Nature for the break in the weather. However, while the lack of clouds meant she would stay mostly dry, there was still a biting cold in the January air. Knowing that it would only get worse as the night wore on, she clutched her navy wool jacket a bit tighter and started in the direction of what she assumed was the church. She hoped to find what she was looking for sooner rather than later, but she knew better than to think she would be back before morning. After all this time, fate wouldn’t let it be too easy. 

With that prospect weighing heavy on her, she trudged forward with a singular determination. The soft light of the moon gave everything a hazy glow and the moss covered ground squelched as she walked, making her approach anything but quiet. Tendrils of fog licked around the church’s outline but as she advanced, more of the building came into focus. It was surprisingly small and symmetrical, tucked behind extensive overgrown greenery and brush, which took on a grayish hue in the evening light. A single arched door stood in the center, its wood looking quite tattered and abused, but still appearing to be functional. She couldn’t say the same for the windows on either side, which were twice the width of the door but held no glass or resistance to the elements. She felt a deep sadness at that, her expertise informing her that they likely had held beautiful stained glass at one point; now never to be seen again. The exterior itself blended in with the grey of the surrounding vegetation but if you looked closely enough you could see slivers of white stone, just peeking out of the dirt and grime.  When it was new and maintained, it must've been a pearly, polished white. In its current state however, it was no more than another forgotten building.  She stopped when she was about 10 feet from the entrance, automatically cataloging everything she saw. It always broke her heart when history was not treated with respect or reverence. It was the same regardless of if it was a building or an artifact or person’s stories. There was so much we could learn and yet people so infrequently looked. She shook her head, her heart breaking a little with the shame of it all, and started up the unstable steps, careful not to tread on the weakest points.

They creaked in a way that she was use to, being a connoisseur of old buildings. And while some people would find the beckoning of the dark interior unsettling, she felt no such unease. Once she reached the landing, she decided to stop and pull out her notebook to go over the plan once more before entering. She sat as gingerly as possible, aware that the church had most likely not had a human companion in many years. The last thing she needed was to break an ankle by falling through the rotting wood. That would be just my luck. With a deep breath, she pulled her kit to her lap and removed her notebook. It was scribbled on, both inside and out, looking very much the part of a manman’s book of ramblings. Chuckling a bit to herself, she flipped to the most recent page and looked over her notes again. This is a somewhat ridiculous idea, seeing as how she had gone over the notes a million times in the last two days. But it helped to get her mind in a more rational state, as opposed to settling in the emotions of finally being on the cusp of possessing the map.

According to her notes, the best chance of finding it was going to be in the back room on the other side of the dais. There should be a wall on the far side of the room with a loose stone and according to the account she had come across two days prior, the map would be located in a slim box within that crevice. Simple enough, right? Since she was unsure how stable the building was, she decided to grab a short stick in order to test the floor and unfolded from her position to gather it. Once the stick was securely in hand, she tucked her notebook back into her bag and secured the headlamp from her kit in place, pulling up her hair to accommodate the strap.  She smiled to herself, as she felt like a modern day Indiana Jones; one of her fictional idols growing up. Her typical assignments weren’t this thrilling or involved and she was rarely fortunate enough to find the artifact herself. Her expertise was something that came in afterwards, once the valuable piece was already in the possession of the local museum or government. Her boss would definitely not be happy that she had taken things into her own hands in this case; but he would hopefully never know. She didn’t have any intention of sharing this particular discovery. In fact, she hadnt told anyone of her plans.

Okay Mia, you are as ready as you will ever be.

 She noted a slight tremor in her body when she walked forward and pushed the old wooden door. Adrenaline surged as she listened to the deep creaking of the old hinges. Once there was enough room, she slipped through the opening and into the interior structure. It was dark enough that she could see little more than shadows beyond the headlamps glow. Even so, the building was obviously in poor condition. According to her research, it was over 500 years old and by the looks of it, had been abandoned almost as long. All the windows that lined the walls on either side of the pews were broken and bits of plants, trees and dirt were everywhere. She imagined there was more than a few animal nests in various corners and her hand slipped into her bag to her mace; it could be used on rabid raccoons as easily as people. She walked to the middle of the room, which looked to be no bigger than a typical children's classroom and closed her eyes. This was something that she had done from the time she was a little girl and it always brought about a certain sense of calm. Her grandfather had called it, listening to history. 

Close your eyes and listen, girl. Listen to the stories of the place and the people. If you listen hard enough, they will talk. 

And they had. She had always had a sixth sense when it came to history, which is why she was so good at her job. She often knew things about a place or item that she shouldn’t, or understood something about the history that no one could. When she had first started in her position at Harrows Artifacts, no one believed her intuition, as they called it. But it didn’t take long for them to stop questioning when her ‘hunches’ always seemed to be proven right. It was a close to magic as she could get, and something she truly appreciated. So, she let the building talk and it's did. 

It hadn’t been abandoned for long, maybe 50 years. And before that had been a small family church, maintained mostly by the Greenwood family, who she knew had been friends of her grandfather. She sensed that most of its past was peaceful, but there had been death here and betrayal. Unsure she wanted to go down that path, she pushed her concentration to more present impressions. That is when she felt the overwhelming wash of danger. The sensation was so abrupt that she couldn’t help but gasp. The small noise bounced off the walls around her and tears pricked her eyes. Dread settled heavily on her chest, causing her breaths to become labored. Somehow, she knew that her life was jeopardy. The building was trying to warn her but she wavered between listening and pushing through to find the map. Instinct warred with desire as she struggled with her decision.

I can't leave. Not yet. But I'm definetly not alone. The feeling of being watched as palpable but she couldnt help but to try to convince herself thatt imagination was at play. It was late at night, in an old abandoned church. This was a place of nightmares. Surely her company was simply of the four legged variety. Her stomach was doing somersaults as she listened to the building creak and settle.

Another shot of adrenaline accompanied the smell of sweat and the feeling of someone breathing on the back of her naked neck. That was no animal. Fuck! Without thought, she whirled around and jumped backwards, narrowly missing a swipe from a disgruntled looking man. 

“Well, I will be damned.” He spat, as he inched towards her, forcing her back. He couldn’t look more menacing if he tried, with his scarred face and the obvious snarl of hatred that curved his thin lips. His features were fuzzy with the only illumination being from her head lamp, but she did see a slight glow to his eyes that made her stomach turn.

Her body shook with the need to run and she forced her feet to stay still. If she ran now, she would almost assuredly trip and fall. She needed a weapon. She wildly looked around for something before remembering the mace and knife in her purse. Slowly and shaking, her forced her hand to inch towards her bag, which was slung over her shoulder.

“I didn’t think you would ever show up.” 

Confusion took hold. “Excuse me?” 

“I have been waiting a long time for you. Looking for this?” 

He pulled out a piece of parchment and gave a quick flourish before tucking it back into his coat with a devilish glint in his eyes.

Her heart jumped into her throat as she stared at the place he had tucked the paper. It had just been a glimpse, but something told her she had just seen the map for the first time.  Questions bounced through her mind. Who was this man? How did he know her? What did he want? 

She tried to focus through the questions and land on something that was more helpful. But her panic was starting to increase as a result of the way he was caging her into a corner. She recognized the tactic for what it was; hearding. Predators hearded. She swallowed down the sudden bile on her tongue and cursed herself for not waiting until the morning. She was going to get herself raped or killed. She looked again at his face, devoid of empathy. Maybe both.

"I don't know what you are talking about." 

Now backing up at an almost feverish pace, she tried to calm herself enough to be able to act. Take a breath. Calm. Think. 

"Oh, I'm sure you don't know what I'm talking about. But that's gonna make this all the more sweet. You are an elusive thing, aren’t you? Do you know how long he has been looking for you?”

Along with the disgust was also a hint of respect, like she had accomplished something great, unbeknownst to her. 

Adrenaline and fear were fighting for dominance as she looked in his terrifying gaze. It was doubtful that time was on her side; this man didn’t seem interested in slowing his hunt; in fact, his strides had become more hurried the closer she got to the wall. Alarm bells were going off like crazy in her head and her heart had started beatng so loud that she could scarcely hear him above it. Clearing her mind of the useless information and questions that were still floating around, she tried to focus on something that would be helpful for her survival. The mace is my best chance. She continued to inch her fingers toward her salvation. Her hand had dipped into her purse a few seincds prior and she was now attemping, as quietly as possible, to find the small aluminum tube.

Why couldnt she ever organize her bag?Keep him talking. Keep him talking. That's what always happens in the movies, right?

“Who are you?” She barely recognized her own voice. It was choked with fear and barely above a whisper.

"I'm an old friend." He continued his pursuit but his eyes focused on her face and not her hand. She was suddenly grateful for the darkened room, sure that it was aiding in her discretion. 

“I don’t know you.”

“Well, let’s just say that I am an acquaintance of your grandfathers…….and your fathers.”

She could feel the shock freeze on her face, the realization that he spoke perfect English just filtering into her brain. He had to have come from the States. 

"Explain what you mean." 

She watched him with narrowed eyes. Bingo! Her fingers slipped over the mace canister and she checked the safety. Thank god I turned that off earlier. Now it was a matter of waiting for her oppertunity. She prayed to every god she could think of that she could get out of the church without tripping over her own feet or other various opbsticles.

They were now close to the end of the room, and she would need to get around him if she had any chance of escape. She altered her stride and moved to the side, hoping that he would follow her.

"I don't need to explain anything, sweetheart. All that will come in good time, you'll see." She watched with longing as the map peeked out from his jacket once more. She couldnt just leave it here, could she?

Her mind volleyed between two objectives; escaping and recovering the map. She wrestled with it far more than she thought she should. Surely, her safety was more important than the map. But she had spent so much time, put so much of herself into finding it, that losing it at this point would feel like losing a piece of herself. She recognized by the look in his eyes that she was running out of time. Pure instinct told her that he was getting ready to grab her; at which point her options would plummet. She pivoted slightly, and took one more step back, until her back felt the cool stone of the wall behind her. He followed her just as she hoped, leaving just enough space for her to squeeze between him and the first pew of the church. She allowed herself one calming breath. Then, without warning, she lunged for him at the same time she pulled the mace from her bag. She was about a foot from him when she closed her eyes and pulled the trigger.

"Son of bitch! What the fuck are you doing?"

His hands instinctively reached for his eyes, which were now red and had begun to weep. How he looked like a proper villian. She knew she would have just a few moments of his distraction to run free. However, just as she stepped around him, she got another glimpse of the map. Acting on pure foolish bravado, she pushed him down with all her might and hoped like hell he wasn't aware enough to resist; he went down quickly. She wrenched his jacket open, feeling his flailing hands grabbing her. She narrowly missed being caught by one hand as she grabbed at the map, freeing it from his pocket. She pivoted to run for the door, but he had caught her wrist and was pulling her down to him on the floor. Losing ground, she did the only thing she could think of.......she bit him. Hard. Hard enough that she tasted blood and he abruptly let go. His curses, booming and full of hatred, followed her as she ran out the church door and down the steps. 

She wasn’t sure how much time she had just bought herself, but she wasn’t counting on long. Realizing just how abandoned this area was and berating herself for her foolishness, she decided to run for the road where the taxi dropped her off and continue the way she had come until she found someone to help.

By the time she made it to the road, she was shaking violently and drenched in sweat. Adrenaline was seeping out of every pore of her body and she could feel its effects rattling around inside of her, like a caged animal. She allowed herself only a moment of reprieve, before sprinting down the main road. She wasn't sure how long she could outrun him, or if he would even come after her in his state, but she vowed that she would run until her legs gave out. Her vision blurred and she quickly wiped tears from her cheeks; a product of the mace and her overflowing emotions, no doubt. The questions that she had pushed aside during her encounter with him, came bubbling backup as she ran. This man obviously thought he knew her, or the very least knew her grandfather. Had he mentioned father as well?She had no idea how he found the church or the map.Did he know she was coming? How long had he been waiting for her? Was it an elaborate set up? She lightly touched the map that was now tucked inside of her coat, safely away from any stray rain. She feared that she had stumbled into something far more dangerous than she anticipated. 

Not long after she reached the road, she pulled out her phone, rejoicing when she saw that she had service. She continued running another two or three blocks down while fumbling with the taxi company's number, afraid that if she stopped now her advantage would be gone.

With a taxi en route, she slowed to a teetering walk, her legs feeling like JELLO. She had designated the pick up location as a closed store in the distance and had plenty of time to get there within the thirty minute window. She could only hope they found her before the man made another appearance. Nerves jolted around her body as she thought of any number of ways the situation could have ended. And while she was out of immediate danger, she couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't yet safe. The wind rustled the trees around her and with every sound, her body would twitch in answer, willing her to run away. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a mist of rain started falling onto her sweat drenched face; the moisture mixing with the rivulets already dripping off her chin.

After what felt like forever, the taxi arrived, and she unceremoniously jumped inside, slamming the door behind her. The warmth of the cab engulfed her, counteracting some of the cold that had settled in her bones from waiting outside. Lost in thought, it felt like only minutes passed before they reached her hotel, when she knew it had been more like an hour. Luckily, the drive had helped her to calm and she only felt the remnants of her body’s reaction. She paid the driver without speaking, and raced up to her hotel room. 

Once tucked inside and multiple locks secure, she pulled the map from her coat and placed it onto the plain, wooden desk opposite her bed. Her fingers were itching to explore it, spend hours unfurling its mysteries, but she couldn't shake the drive to get out of town as quickly as possible. There were many questions to be answered and she was all alone in the foreign country, her return flight not scheduled for a couple of days. Instead of losing herself to the map as she wanted to do, she tried to think logically about her options. A quick internet search told her there were no commercial flights out of the area in the next few days. It was a obscure region, afterall. She could rent a car, but she didnt know the area and as much travel as she had done, she had never driven outside the U.S. It made her nervous. More nervous than staying somewhere where someone wants you dead?

When she realized her quickest escape from this country would be calling in a certain favor, she sighed in resignation. It would come with strings attached and a lot of questions. She sat on the bed for a few moments and pondered if it was worth the price. But given everything that had happened, she didn't feel like she had a choice. She walked across the room and pulled her phone from the bag, scrolling to the favorite people section of her contact list. She hovered over his name for a few minutes, indecision lingering before giving up and hitting the call button.  As always, Blake answered on the first ring.

"Hey baby girl, how's it going?" His easy voice was a salve to her nerves and she let out an audible sigh of relief. Her oldest friend, Blake knew her better than anyone, and had been there whenever she needed.

"I'm okay. Hey listen, I hate to ask this but I need a favor." Her fingers tapped restlessly on the phone. 

"What is it you need? I see you're in Italy again. Are you there on assignment?"

"Not exactly." She said guiltily, knowing he preferred to know when she left the country. But he tracked her phone anyway, so she was certain he had an alert set up. She had agreed to let him track her phone many years prior as she was historically bad at letting him know when she left the country. It was a small price to pay for getting out of the lectures.

"Well, what exactly are you there for? Is everything okay?" His tone had started to shift slightly, signalling a change that she knew all too well. He had always warned her of the evils of the world, even as far back as their childhood. But she preferred to look at the positive side of things. At least until her grandfather died and she was lost to her own, personal tragedy.

"I just….. well….. it'll be easier to explain it in person. I mean, we can talk about it when I am back stateside." She quickly amended her statement, knowing full well that he didn't see her as much as he wanted to and that was a trigger for him. A statement like that was just inviting another argument.

"I know that this is a big ask, and it's really late notice…..” She struggled with the words, not wanting to seem like she was taking advantage of her oldest friend. 

"Just get out with it. What do you need?" His easy-going voice turned almost harsh; he had switched into business mode.

"I need your plane.” She blurted. “I don't have a flight scheduled for another couple of days and I need leave in the morning. There's nothing commercial available."

There was silence on the other end and she envisioned his furrowed brow and concerned eyes. She had never asked him for something like this, and he had offered on a consistent basis, not trusting the safety of commercial flying. This would be a pretty big shift in her acceptance of his help. 

"Done. Which airport?" 

"I'll email you the details."

She quickly pulled up the email on her phone and sent him the address of the nearest airport. Once finished, she moved the receiver back to her ear in enough time to hear him acknowledge the information.

"Got it. The jet is in New York right now, but it'll be there by morning. I'm also sending a security detail to your hotel. I'll be there within the hour."

"Blake, that's really not necessary.” She paused in irritated realization. “And how the hell do you know what hotel I'm in?"

She knew better than to expect an answer. Like always, Blake knew things that he shouldn't and he never divulged his secrets. He was typically good about boundaries, but she had to admit that anytime her safety was in question, he got a little overbearing. Hence tracking her phone. She knew it came from a good place so normally it wouldn’t bother her but there were times it made her feel like a helpless child. Or at least, gave the impression that was his opinion. 

“How about you tell me why you are calling me in the middle of the night, panic in your voice and insistent that you get out of a foreign country as soon as possible?”

“I……” The argument died on her tongue; there was no use in poking the irrational bear, and he did have a point. “I’ll call you as soon as I land."

“Yes, you will.” He sounded tired and she wondered what time it was in Seattle. She didn’t think to check before calling, too distracted by her own needs.

“Don't think that you will get out of answering questions when you arrive, Mia. I am choosing not to push it right now because I can tell you are exhausted and scared. But there is obviously something wrong and you will tell me."

Yes, she would, she knew that. Blake was now the closest thing that she had to family. They had grown up together, and shared a love and affection that had stayed strong even after she bailed out on him after her grandfather died. They didn't see each other much, but they talked on the phone almost every day. The fact that Blake had lots of money wasn't really something that mattered to her, but she had to admit in this instance it had come in handy. After saying goodbye, she plugged in her phone and looked again at the map. It was smaller than she imagined as it unfurled from the carrying case taking up no more room than a standard piece of paper. She longed to discover its secrets, but exhaustion was swiftly making itself known and she could barely keep her eyes open. She quickly and carefully put it away and stumbled over to the large, fluffy bed where she promptly passed out. 

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