A troubled Detective Olivia Benson arrives in the squad room of the 16th Precinct's Special Victims Unit and tosses her coat over the back of her chair, she is lost in thought. Sergeant John Munch notices and asks "Something wrong?"

"Huh?" Olivia responds breaking her concentration before waving him off. "Oh, nothing" Munch starts to walk away, but then Olivia unexpectedly continues. "I stopped in to check on Sarah Walsh. There was a woman with her; apparently she has a roommate now."

Turning back Munch asks "I think I recall that case. Bayard Ellis got the guy off?" Olivia nods. "And this woman bothers you because you think Sarah will be victimized again?"

"No, not really, I'm glad to see she has somebody around." Olivia has been concerned about Sarah though which is why she checked on her.

"So why all the puzzlement?"

"Well this woman is older than Sarah; certainly out of college. She was fairly friendly, but only after Sarah introduced me as a detective that worked on her case. But I had a feeling the whole time that I was intruding on her turf and she was wary of me."

"Do you think this woman forced Sarah to take her in?" Munch asks.

"No Sarah was quite relaxed…. More relaxed than I would be if my rapist was acquitted and I was living in the same place where I was attacked. If this woman was an intruder, Sarah would have tipped me off."

"I didn't think she went for older girls myself, but you knew her much better."

"No, Sarah is straight, very independent and self sufficient. She didn't have to live in that neighborhood; she did it to experience the… less affluent side of life for her music composition."

"Maybe this woman is a bodyguard hired by daddy. The family was well off as I recall."

Olivia ponders. "I know what was bothering me. She had on a long coat, inside, and I caught a glimpse of her put it on while Sarah unchained the door. We're having a cold spell, but Sarah had the heat turned up in the apartment. So why would she put on a coat in indoors? Also, as casual as she acted I don't think I made one movement that she didn't observe." Olivia recalls. "And she never sat down."

"Maybe she was headed out. What was her name?" Munch prods.

"It was strange. It sounded Greek, Kyraxanthos or something like that. I'm not sure if it is a last name or a first name."

"Hmmmm" Munch says suddenly serious.

"What?" Olivia asks. She is used to Munch's conspiracy theories, but he normally delivered them straight away and with a certain wry sense of amusement, not the concern and silence he just displayed. Munch doesn't respond right away. "What?" she repeats and then, when he's still reluctant to speak, takes him to an empty interrogation room away from people who might overhear.

Finally Munch privately responds. "The NYPD keeps files on unexplained incidents, sort of their own X-Files, only real. In 1998 a French judge was killed and his bodyguard escaped but developed hysterical amnesia. She was attacked in the mental ward and then went missing never to be found. The people who were suspected of killing the judge were murdered. Their leader, a guy named Vladic was decapitated with a sword. The bodyguard went by the name Kyra Albright. She is still listed as a person of interest although they aren't pursuing it anymore. Kyra could be a short version of Kyraxanthos."

"Why would we keep a file on an incident in France? That has nothing to do with the NYPD." Olivia observes.

"Oh, but it does." Munch pauses trying to recall before continuing. "In the Depression kidnapping was a common way for mobsters to get ready cash before it became a federal offense after the Lindbergh baby kidnapping in 1932. A business man was kidnapped in Manhattan. His business partners were instructed to have a woman make the drop. There were very few females on the job back then. A civilian woman was engaged to do it and she did, but the vic wasn't returned. Her name was Kyra Stamoulis. She was suspected of keeping the money. Shortly afterwards, there was an incident at a bar known to be frequented by the mob family that was suspected of being involved." Munch digresses. "I'm amused by how they call them social clubs…"

"An… incident?" Olivia coaxes him back on topic.

"Yeah, that club was turned into a slaughterhouse, particularly unsocial if you ask me. The NYPD had bugs in place, but no warrants for them so they could not use what they heard on the tapes when they recovered them. A woman's voice was heard demanding that they release the mark. They responded by suggesting that she … perform some unnatural sexual acts. There was the sound of gunfire, followed by some male laughter…. then the screaming began."

"So they killed her."

"No. She killed them, all but the bartender, but even he was badly wounded. The tale the survivor told made no sense except the physical evidence backed it up. He admitted the men that died did shoot her, she went down, but in a moment got back up and attacked with a sword she pulled from under her coat. There were bullet holes in the wall with associated high speed blood splatter from through and through hits. Her coat was found along with her blouse showing several shots that should have done massive damage. But she apparently left wearing a raincoat she found at the bar. The bloody coat she left had been modified to conceal a sword. NYPD didn't know what to make of what happened. But, a few days later, after the wounded man talked to another mobster, and the mark was released unharmed. By the way, the screaming was all male. She really tore those guys up. She likely left the one alive to deliver the message that it wasn't over until the kidnapped guy was released."

"That was over eighty years ago Munch."

"Yeah"

"You think Sarah's friend could be what, that woman's what… granddaughter?"

"No. I'm thinking it is the same woman."

"How?"

"I don't know. But facial recognition was run on photos of the woman who killed the mobsters in 1931 and the bodyguard in 1998 and they matched to a high level of confidence."

"Family resemblance" Olivia says dismissively.

"Liv, the woman took half a dozen forty-five caliber slugs through the torso and… got … up, took them out with extreme prejudice, then swapped her clothes for one of their coats, calmly walked out leaving a stack of bodies bleeding out on the floor, and hailed a cab without apparent distress. A person who could do that… I make no assumptions on what else they can do. And there is more."

"More?"

"Yeah every now and then a body is found decapitated. Not too shocking in itself in a city this size, but sometimes the victims are next to impossible to identify. It is like they only existed for the last ten years or less before their bodies were found. Then there was a records guy in the 1980's who claimed he'd found a guy, a dealer in antiques on Hudson Street, that had been creeping around since at least 1700 pretending to die every now and then leaving all of his belongings kids who turned out to have died at birth and assuming their identities. Internal affairs had him retired pretty quickly, but his evidence was compelling…. although it was covered up of course."

"Over three hundred years? It's not possible."

"There was a police lieutenant… Frank Moran who liked the antique dealer, for the murder of a guy named Fasil at the Madison Square Garden parking lot. Fasil was decapitated." Munch says.

"'Liv, I'm telling you this because I want you to understand that there are things out there which you should not provoke. There are mysteries beyond the experience of mortal man." Munch says as Olivia shakes her head, she does not live a world like Munch but one of rationalism.

Seeing Olivia will not be dissuaded, he continues "I want you to go see an acquaintance of mine. He'll show you the files, but you'll have to show him your underwear." Olivia is aghast but Munch adds "You don't have to be in them, just put them in a bag." Detective Benson makes a face. "Hey, he doesn't get out much. You probably won't want them back."

The next day Detective Benson enters the squad room and immediately finds Sergeant Munch whom she hustles off to a quiet place. "Okay your friend is seriously creepy and I'm not entirely convinced he's harmless. But he let me study the files. I didn't ask for the underwear I bought for the occasion back. Never tell me how you met him."

"At my second wedding, he's my ex-wife's cousin. Don't let him know where you live."

"Yeah, no problem there." Olivia makes a face. "Munch, it was her. What do we do?"

"We? How did this get to be 'we'?"

"She might kill him."

"The rapist? If she wanted him dead, he's dead already. But I'll call Homicide to make sure."

"So Sarah has a big mean dog in her front yard." Olivia observes.

"More like a rabid tyrannosaur. But, yeah." Olivia starts to turn to leave. "I'd tell you to stay away, but I know you wouldn't listen. If you go back over there, go easy, make no sudden moves. We have no reason to pick her up. The French have not renewed their notice for a decade and the thirties were a long time ago."

"There is no statute of limitations on murder."

"Go easy 'Liv." Munch warns again with none of his trademark ironic humor.

Later that evening Detective Benson knocks on Sarah's door. It is answered by Kyraxanthos. "May I come in?" Olivia asks.

"Sure Olivia." Sarah calls from the kitchen area of her small apartment. Kyraxanthos opens the door and Olivia enters trying not to look too closely at the other woman.

Kyra finds this amusing. "Problem Detective?" she asks and Olivia shakes her head.

"Do you want a beer, or are you on duty?" Sarah asks.

"I'm on my own time. I see you still have your fake ID."

"I bought the beer and wine Detective." Kyra counters. "I'm well over the legal age." Olivia notices the last part was delivered as an unshared inside joke.

"Some wine would be nice." Olivia asks and in a moment Sarah presents her with a glass of red wine.

Kyra watches Olivia carefully and then breaks the awkward silence. "Detective, you are wondering whether I would kill the guy that raped Sarah. I won't. Not because he doesn't deserve it, but because Sarah could be accused of a contract killing. My job here is to see that nobody bothers her until she no longer wants my services. I'm a bodyguard and I am damn good at my job."

Olivia swirls her wine and takes a sip. She speaks quietly to her glass "But you failed in Paris." In her mind she hears Munch's advice and regrets making the statement.

Kyra nods sadly. "I let my guard down for a second. That will never happen again. Are you going to take me in?"

"No. The French don't seem to be too eager to question you and Paris is not in my jurisdiction. But don't tell me anything I don't need to know." Olivia says and Kyra nods.

Olivia continues "There is another question. I looked at a file…an old file…from 1931…" Olivia looks to Kyra who slowly and nearly imperceptibly nods in the affirmative, smiles slightly, but says nothing on the subject. Olivia gasps a bit.

"Drink your wine Detective." Kyra says and Olivia takes a large sip and sits down on the couch.

"It's not possible. I don't want to know." Olivia sighs.

"Yet the detective in you still demands answers." Kyra observes. Olivia nods. "Is that why you came here tonight?" Olivia nods. "You want to know who I am, but you are reluctant to find out things you'd rather not know." Olivia bows her head to look at the glass and swirls her wine. Kyra watches as does a nervous Sarah. "I understand your nature. I respect it. We are who we are Detective." Olivia looks up.

"Are you willing to go down the rabbit hole Alice?" Kyra asks with a slight mischievous smile and a glance to Sarah. Olivia is confused. "Select the red pill?" Olivia is still confused. "Are you willing to open your mind to possibilities beyond the limits of what you currently consider reality?"

"I don't know." Olivia responds.

"An honest answer, from what Sarah has told me about you, I believe that you are driven to seek justice. Sometimes that doesn't happen, but more often than not you find a way to make it work. You are a true believer, but not an unthinking zealot. You have pragmatism, but there are lines you will not cross no matter the cost." Kyra states and Olivia nods.

Kyra concludes "I think you are ready. You deserve to know." Olivia looks to Kyra and inhales slowly. She wishes she had not come, but neither can she bring herself to leave.

"I was born in Sparta about three thousand years ago." Kyra says casually. Olivia's mind reels as she tries to grasp what she just heard. "For most of my life I have been a soldier or a bodyguard. Right now, I protect Sarah. The best way to do that is to avoid problems before they can develop."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want you to understand that Sarah is safe and that I won't be doing anything that would cause you to worry."

"That is hard to believe." Olivia observes.

"That I'm not going to cause you to worry?" Kyra giggles.

"All of it." Olivia states.

Kyra nods "It is." Suddenly Kyra places her hand on a magazine on the counter and stabs it with a steak knife which was nearby. Olivia starts to move to help and Sarah looks like she's going to be sick. Kyra looks straight into Olivia's eyes and, with her face showing pain and determination; she slowly lifts her impaled hand sliding it up the blade to the hilt demonstrating her hand has been run through. Olivia crosses the room and wraps Kyra's hand in a dish towel leaving the knife in place to prevent further damage. But Kyra yanks the knife out and tosses it into the sink; her face registers the pain of its withdrawal. Olivia holds the injured hand tightly with the towel to reduce bleeding.

"Unnecessary." Kyra says as she pulls her hand from Olivia's grasp. She unwraps the towel, goes to the sink and rinses off the blood off. Olivia gasps as she sees the last of the wound heal before her eyes. Kyra holds up her now undamaged hand. Olivia examines Kyra's hand which shows neither scar nor damage. Kyra growls annoyed with Olivia for not simply taking her word on the matter. "Now do you believe?"

"My God." Olivia says in shock. Kyra nods.

"That was my reaction too, but all it took for me was her description of watching Mozart conduct. Only someone who actually lived it could have described it the way she did. It didn't take blood and pain." Sarah says, also annoyed at Olivia.

"It is all right Sarah. I spoke to you in the language that you understand. I spoke to Olivia in the language that she understands." A wry smile crosses Kyra's face. "Your language is beautiful and artful. Her language is bloody and painful, but perhaps more direct."

"I'm sorry." Olivia says.

"Never apologize for being who you are Olivia. Besides there is no need…" Kyra cautions. "…extraordinary claims require extraordinary proof. But now I will ask that you keep what I am secret."

Olivia nods. "I will, but stay within the law. Actually, I still don't know what you are and nobody would believe me even if I told them what I've seen and heard." Olivia prepares to leave. Turning back she asks "How did you come to be Sarah's protector?"

Kyra shakes her head. She won't answer out of respect to her client. Olivia glances to Sarah who answers hesitantly. "In the thirties my great grandfather was well to do. He was kidnapped…" Olivia raises her hand cutting Sarah off; she does not want to hear anymore of the story. Sarah hugs Olivia. "Goodnight Olivia."

Olivia looks to Kyra and sees Kyra clearly nervous about the possibility receiving an unwanted hug. "Are you strapped?" Olivia asks.

"I've got a concealed carry permit." Kyra says as she slowly opens her zippered loose sweatshirt to reveal a large automatic handgun in a shoulder harness. "Forty-four, modified, makes bigger holes than your service piece." She slowly allows the sweatshirt to cover it again. "The permit is in my pocket Detective." Kyra slowly withdraws the permit and gives it to Olivia for inspection. Olivia sees that it is order and hands it back. She's not happy with civilians carrying weapons. Detective Benson reasons that there is also a sword hidden somewhere nearby, but she doesn't ask. She doesn't want to know anything more about any connection from Kyra to the headless body in Paris or the long dead mobsters killed by steel rather than lead.

"Keep that cannon locked up. We don't want it falling into the wrong hands. Goodnight." Olivia leaves; just as the door closes she sees Kyra recover a sword from under the couch and realizes it was within Kyra's reach during nearly all of her visit.