DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel borrowed, no profits realized.

A/N: With apologies (and thanks) to those of you nice enough to send periodic inquiries (Requests? Entreaties? Demands? Threats?) about my other stories-in-progress: I promise, none is abandoned; all have plot outlines, randomly sketched scenes, and genuine endings my trusty computer files. But sometimes other stories just have to be aired. The last time I waited to post a "great idea" I waited too long, and what had been a never-before-written idea for M & L ended up occurring to another writer here recently, so mine would now appear to be just a cheesy rip-off. I'm hopeful that it won't happen with this one – which, I think, may also be a new way of looking at a now-familiar plot line ...

Unmasked!

"C'mon, Logan." Bling stood in the training room, idly imaging how many more useful minutes he might have each day if Logan actually came in for his ROM the first time Bling called – he even chuckled at the image of Logan ready and waiting for his arrival, eagerly awaiting his therapy. Yeah, and pigs might fly, he counseled himself, remembering one of his Granny's favorite expressions, and allowed himself a slight smile at the sight of Logan approaching, dutifully, after only two prods. They might learn to fly after all, he mused. "How was the game this morning?" he asked, suddenly recalling that his employer had an unusually early start to his day.

Logan laughed softly, mentally replaying a few choice moments in the near-dawn pick-up game, his first time joining teammates at their sun-up sessions for another round of basketball. "Great; there were some good players here. But 6:00 a.m? Why do they have to be so uncivilized about it?"

Bling smirked as he watched his charge line up with the therapy table and pull up into place. "Most of those guys have day jobs, with regular hours. A lot of the world is half done with their day by the time you roll out of bed." Bling noted with satisfaction that any tiredness or weakness Logan might have had in his arms from ninety minutes of full court basketball earlier that morning had resolved – he moved with his usual strength and range. Good, the trainer noted to himself. Man's getting himself in fine shape.

"And I spend all of my day trying to clean up what the rest of the world has done in that time." He was just settling in on the padded surface when his phone rang – the line known only to his higher placed informants. Bling didn't even stop to glance back at him before crossing into the computer room for the handset. The therapist brought the phone in and, silently, handed it to him; Logan thumbed the talk button quickly and answered, "yeah –"

"Logan – Matt. Turn on the news, now –"

"Matt; what –" But in that moment, there was a sudden snick, and then ... nothing. Logan blinked and pulled the phone away to look at the phone's display screen, frowning his surprise, then looked back up. "Matt Sung – all he said was to turn on the news." As Bling crossed the room to lift the remote and turn on the small set in the corner, Logan continued, "it's his cell number, but I couldn't tell if he was cut off, or..."

His words died, hanging in the air as the men stared at the familiar sight on the screen – Eyes Only's distinctive eyes masked by the red, white and blue trailers framing them – but only in the corner of the screen, displayed over the shoulder of a pretty, local news anchor as she spoke.

"...years of eluding local, state and federal authorities, Seattle's own Eyes Only has been identified. Details next, when we return..."

The color drained from Logan's face as he stared at the television screen, unmoving for only a bare moment. In the next instant, however, he shifted over to the end of the table and, as if choreographed, Bling swung his chair back in place just in time to catch its owner, mid-dismount, and Eyes Only spun without stopping into the computer room. As Logan's hands flew over the keyboard, Bling followed him, stopping long enough to turn the television on in the computer room as well, hoping the report would give them some idea of the source of the threat, how much time they had, and, for Bling, how best to get Logan to safety. Their only accompaniment in those first, tense moments was the mindless bleating of a local commercial jingle as the store owner, hawking his wares, announced that prosperity was just around the corner. As always, even breaking news had to wait through the ads...

Logan finally spoke as he worked though his evacuation procedures. "Matt didn't say a thing about who or what it all is. Either he couldn't talk or he doesn't know what's going down yet ... maybe it leaked to the media before they could get here."

Bling glanced back at him, seeing on the computer screen that Logan had already put the first level of security walls in place, layering in enough defenses that he bought time to re-encrypt and secure all the evidence contained in his files of his work and the Informant Net. To Bling's consternation, he saw that Logan was also using up valuable time encoding the evidence he had so recently gathered on one of the city's commissioners...

The therapist, now in full bodyguard mode, crossed to the large cabinet which hid several file drawers and a safe. Quickly keying in the pass codes to open the locked door, he opened it and said tersely, "Shut it down, Logan. Don't worry about saving all those files. If we don't know what's going on, we need to assume the worst and get you out of here." He pulled open one file drawer then the next, lifting out a couple dozen documents and other materials previously agreed between them as the essential few that were vital to the safety of the Net and to Eyes Only. With them, Logan had placed another set of items for Max, both for her protection and for her quest to discover her siblings. Setting the stack of items to the side, Bling shoved the drawer shut and now opened the safe.

Logan's eyes never left the monitor screens and his hands were in constant motion. His voice was measured and calm. "The Net's quiet; it looks as if no one saw this coming other than Matt, and he sounded surprised at it, too. Just another couple minutes, Bling, and I can get..." his words trailed as he focused more on the work before him.

Bling pulled out Logan's prepared identity documents, as well as a generous stash of credit cards, cash, keys and a couple cell phones. From another portion of the safe, he pulled out two guns to add to his own and the one at Logan's side, with ammunition for all. Shaking his head grimly, he made a final visual sweep of the safe's contents to be certain he had all he needed for this bug-out, and closed the cabinet. He pulled down the satchel kept stashed alongside the cabinet for such an emergency, and turned back to Logan as he reached to shove the documents and other things inside. "C'mon, man, this isn't a drill. Shut it down and let's go." But whatever Logan muttered in response, it was lost to Bling as the television in the corner caught his eye. The news report had started up again, and over the reporter's shoulder he now saw a photograph displayed there of a nondescript, slightly disheveled man. With that, the voice-over pulled his attention...

"Only moments ago, the Seattle Police issued a statement to the media that Seattle's infamous vigilante, Eyes Only, has finally been identified... "

"... just another couple minutes and I'll have it all." Logan was insisting, listening to the report distractedly, his back to the TV. "If I take it all on the laptop it's safe, but can be completely destroyed by remote..."

"Logan..." Bling interrupted.

"... after authorities received an additional tip in the last two hours..."

"I think we should just go to the safe house first," Logan insisted, backing up multiple files on his precious, pre-Pulse flash drive as fast as his system would allow, "at least until we know what they know, whoever they are, and if they'll be watching for me to leave the city..."

"Logan." The change in Bling's tone worked to get his attention, and Eyes Only finally looked up, curious at the puzzlement he'd heard filter into Bling's voice. Not speaking, Bling just nodded toward the television set, and Logan turned around to see police officers moving across screen, flanking a man in handcuffs, who they accompanied from a patrol car toward the courts building and the attached jail, his clothing rumpled, hair askew, blinking a little at the reporters surging toward him.

"Eyes Only has been taken into custody..."

...to be continued.