Xaviers!

In a posh London flat that recently went off the market, a mobile phone on a nightstand starts ringing.

It isn't a number commonly given out, nor is it what most would consider 'business hours.'

An ageless woman picks up the phone, glancing at the display and then pushing the button to accept the call. "How can I help you?"

"...this isn't Michael," a familiar voice comes from the other end.

"Which of you does he have screening his calls this time?"

That someone would know her grandfather by his first name *and* be familiar enough to not pay courtesy at the same time gives her pause, but for only a moment. The list of people who could do both those things was quite short. "I regret that Michael is no longer with our organization. This is Alessia. Who am I speaking to?"

"This is Rashida Muqaddam. Your 'grandfather' knew me well."

Alessia can almost hear the air quotes in the woman's tone of voice.

"Ah, yes. He spoke well of you, Dame Rashida." A pleasant enough half-truth. "To what do I owe the honor of the call?"

"If he's no longer with you, I need to know if you intend to honor his commitments."

"For you, of course. My 'grandfather' was not always the wisest individual with regards to commitments, but I am a woman of my word and I intend to see all accounts settled to satisfaction."

"Then I'm calling in my marker for the Badr affair. I need someone of your... particular expertise."

"I see. Are you wanting a phone consultation or should this be a house call?"

"I'll send you directions to a meeting place."

She glances at the clock, "I'll pack a bag and call my driver. I trust you have a place for me to stay."

"I can see to it you're... not disturbed."

"Thank you. I await your directions."