EMILY

The house seems empty as I make my way down to the kitchen and then I hear the highlights of last night's football playing softly in the lounge. I don't know why he is watching the edited playback when we watched the game live last night but I guess this is what obsession necessitates.

I smile as I step into the lounge and he turns to look up at me. He waves a greeting and then his attention returns to the game. I shake my head slowly and resume my mission to find some breakfast. The coffee he prepared a while ago is still warm and I pour myself a cupful and place it in the microwave for a brief blast. The dishes from last evening's supper are still sitting on the draining board and I sigh as I open the dishwasher and begin to load the crockery into the drawer.

I don't really mind clearing up after him. It's the least I can do. I have begun to take for granted all that he has given up for me and I know I must not let that happen. For both our sakes.

It's easy to grow complacent with the daily routines that we have sunk into and the security of the seemingly normal life that we share. And that is the entire purpose. To everyone else we are simply a happy couple living our happy existence. And the illusion has to be kept intact.

But as I stand and close the dishwasher, I glance out of the kitchen window and see the van that sits across the street. I take a deep breath and rub my aching back as for a moment I let myself see past the image we have created here.

The microwave bleeps to remind me that it finished heating my coffee a few minutes ago and I am torn from my thoughts. Grabbing my drink and a handful of cookies from the tin on the kitchen table, I wander back through to the lounge.

The sports programme is concluding now and he picks up the remote to switch off the television. He yawns loudly and stretches his arms above his head before turning towards me.

"What have you got planned for today?" He asks in interest.

I shrug my shoulders and munch on my cookies. "Do a second coat in the nursery." I mumble between mouthfuls.

He nods thoughtfully. "Didn't you need to get some more paint from the hardware store?"

"Yeah." I confirm and watch him frown as he considers this. It seems perfectly normal and anyone watching would not think anything was unusual about the conversation we are having. But I know he is mentally planning our trip. Deciding on the safest route. Reminding himself to tell his colleagues our movements well in advance.

Even after all this time, he cannot let his guard slip for even a moment. And for a brief second I feel a flutter of fear somewhere within me. It passes as quickly as it arose and I take a deep breath as I watch him smile warmly at me.

"I'll go take a shower, then." He offers cheerily and stands from the sofa.

It would not feel strange for him to plant a kiss on my cheek as he moves past me but we have not sunk that far into the illusion. I listen to him gallop up the stairs and hear him muttering softly. But he's not talking to himself. He's letting the agents that keep watch from the van know that he will be leaving me unguarded for a short time.

It was hard at first and I can remember how miserable I felt when we arrived at the safe house. I had been moved from one prison to another and had a new group of strangers surrounding me. But I soon found that the one that had drawn the short straw and was given the task of spending every moment by my side was actually a nice man.

I'm sure Matt had found the whole set up as weird and uncomfortable as I had at the beginning. But he was able to focus on the task and simply played out the role that he had been assigned. That had made things even harder for a time. And then he had relaxed.

Or gave the impression that he had. I know that, in truth, he never relaxes. His years of training have honed him into an expert guard. Aware of every detail of every moment with me, he is always watching, anticipating. It was disconcerting for a while but now it simply feels safe.

I listen to the sound of him turning on the shower and chuckle to myself as I hear him humming contentedly. This really does feel normal. As if we've lived together forever. We have a lot in common and have become good friends. Unless that's simply part of the image. I know that he can't afford to let himself get too close and risk letting his guard down for even a split second. And I don't think even he could get through the barriers that I have created.

My heart skips as suddenly my mind is filled with the memory of the only person who managed to slip past my defences. I lean back against the sofa and close my eyes as I remember being held by Scott.

And my chest aches as I am reminded of the worst part of all this. I miss him. And although I have thought about him less and less as the weeks have gone by, it doesn't make the yearning for his touch any less potent.

Matt doesn't know the horrors that I have been through. He has heard me crying in my sleep on a number of nights and has offered me the chance to talk about my nightmares. But I have stuck to the story that the professor created and simply shrug and tell him that I am haunted by the mob hit that I am supposed to have witnessed. The lie that the professor planted into the minds of my guardians and was then spread through the network of agents.

I saw the professor on the news a few weeks ago. He was attending a genetics conference in Washington with Jean and I saw them entering the office building. My heart was racing as I looked past the image of the reporter that was being filmed and saw the two of them joining the other delegates inside. I had hoped that perhaps Scott would be with them and had longed to see him, if only for a brief moment. But it seemed that Jean and the professor were alone. It made sense. They could blend in with the doctors and scientists unnoticed.

I don't know if the experiments that were conducted on me have been brought to light. If they have then it has been very quietly. I've searched the Internet practically every day for even the slightest hint of an investigation into the project I was involved in. But even the geeks on the conspiracy websites make no mention of any of it.

I want to believe that I was the only subject in the experiment but somehow I know that it's not possible. Despite having seen most of the information that Mystique stole from the warehouse, I know that the doctors will not have invested so much time and money to risk it all on one trial. And I wonder if Jean has found any more answers.

Suddenly the life form inside me starts wriggling vigorously and I smile in wonder as I look down and see the movement beneath my pyjamas. I place my hand on the immense bulge that extends from within me and feel feet kicking against my palm.

"Hey little buddy." I mutter softly and then feel the baby begin to calm. I chuckle to myself as I wonder what sparked off that flurry of activity. It is the strangest sensation and sometimes is uncomfortable, especially at two in the morning when I'm propped on my side amongst my nest of pillows and want to rest.

I hear the noise of the shower stop and I take a deep breath before heaving myself from the sofa and slowly climb the stairs. Matt smiles merrily at me as he emerges half dressed and then wanders into his bedroom. I pad into the steam filled bathroom and pick up the wet towel that he has left in a heap on the floor. It really is easy to believe the illusion that we have created here.

XXXXX

California was a good idea. I know I had to be far enough away from New York to be safe but was glad that the warm weather of the west coast was included in the deal. I'm sitting here now on the soft pale sand of the beach that lies just a few hundred yards from the house and sigh contentedly as I watch the people that play around me.

It feels a little strange that the shops are filled with thanksgiving paraphernalia when it's over 80 degrees in the bright sunshine but the cloudless blue sky above the ocean is glorious and I am smiling happily.

"Good afternoon, Emily."

I turn at the familiar voice and see my next-door neighbour plodding through the sand towards me. "Hey, Maggie." I wave and my smile grows as she reaches me and carefully sits down beside me.

She is as ungainly as me as she sinks heavily onto the sand and she laughs at herself. "Getting down here is the easy part." Maggie offers merrily.

"Matt's around somewhere," I shrug, "He can haul us both up." I chuckle in amusement and glance behind me to see Matt buying a bottle of water from the vendor on the sidewalk. It seems silly to be paying for what he could so easily run across the road and get from the tap at home. But it's not our money he's wasting. And he can't go too far from me.

Matt jogs back over to me and hands me the bottle that he has already taken a long gulp from. I nod my thanks and take a sip of water. We share everything together. How can anyone not believe the image that we project?

Maggie is completely convinced. She looks from me to my pretend husband and I can see her smile grow. She was delighted when we moved in a few months ago and has made it her mission to look after us. And we let her think that she is. She retired to the coast with her husband six months before we arrived here but he had a stroke a few weeks after they moved in and is all but chair bound. Maggie came round to say hello the day we got here and ensured an endless supply of tea and cookies for us and the agents that posed as removal men.

I took to Maggie immediately. And that is a new thing for me. Her family visit her often but she is struggling to cope with Don on her own and when the community nurses arrive to help him wash or tuck him into bed she often seizes the opportunity to escape for a short while.

"How's Don today?" I ask gently and see the sadness that flashes across her face.

"Good." Maggie smiles bravely. "He is looking forward to kicking your ass again at chess sometime soon."

I laugh softly and nod in agreement, remembering how surprised I was that the seemingly frail Don was so mentally alert. He might not be able to form coherent speech and the entire left side of his body is limp and lifeless but he is as bright as he ever was. And that seems cruel. It must be so hard for him and equally difficult for Maggie to be with him.

"I'm baking muffins again, tonight." Maggie offers and grins up at Matt.

"Ooh!" Matt enthuses.

I turn to see him rubbing his stomach eagerly and I shake my head in dismay. "Oh Maggie, you shouldn't spoil him!"

"Nonsense!" Maggie defends, "I'm making sure he's well fed so he has the strength to look after you and the baby." She smiles and winks at me. "Seeing as he'll be doing all the night feeds and diaper changes."

I can feel my smile falter for a moment and suddenly I feel bad for lying to this kind woman. And now I'm wondering if Matt really will help me when the baby arrives. I haven't thought that far ahead.

"I guess it could be any day now." Maggie continues cheerfully and looks back up at Matt. "I take it, you've planned your route to the hospital."

Matt laughs softly and avoids my concerned gaze as he nods in reply. "The bags are in the boot of the car and the tank is full of gas."

I listen to them laughing together and Maggie starts to reminisce about how Don panicked each time she went into labour with their three children. She has told us this before and I don't mind listening to her stories. But suddenly my mind is racing and I can feel panic rising within me. I really have no idea what will happen when the baby arrives. Will we stay here in this illusion with Matt and his team of agents? Perhaps I'll be safe then and can move on.

Now I feel angry that this was never prepared for. Charles shipped me out of the school and never told me what to do with the child that will soon be born. I had hoped that perhaps he would try to contact me. I can't believe that someone with his power cannot track me down and suddenly I feel abandoned. And alone.

The beach is starting to become crowded now that the schools have ended for the day and I am aware of Matt getting agitated as people surround us.

"We should go." Matt suggests quietly, "You've got your painting to finish."

"Oh! Is the nursery nearly ready?" Maggie enthuses.

I nod in reply and brush my concerns to the back of my mind. "You must come by to have a look."

"Absolutely!" Maggie smiles.

"You can see it when you bring the muffins over." Matt grins.

I gasp at his cheek and then smile up at him. He stoops to help me struggle to my feet and then gallantly hurries to also assist Maggie.

"Thank you kind sir." Maggie laughs as he steadies her gently and then the three of us start back up the beach.

As we reach the road, I notice the car that is pulling up behind Matt's on the drive and I glance at him nervously. I see that his hand is hovering over the slight bulge in his shirt that is the gun tucked into his trousers.

"Are we expecting anyone today?" Matt wonders aloud, for the benefit of the surveillance team in the van opposite the house.

We pause there at the edge of the road, seemingly to wait for a gap in the traffic before we cross the street, and I know he is listening to his colleagues speaking through the tiny receiver in his ear.

I watch the driver's door of the car open and my heart is racing. I can sense Matt tensing in readiness and I'm sure he's going to start shooting at any moment. Then I see the woman that climbs from the car and I sigh in relief. "It's the doctor!" I blurt out quickly and turn to smile at Matt. "Remember, she said she would come today, honey."

Matt is still distracted by the voices in his earpiece and he frowns down at me in concern. "It's not her car, though." He mutters softly.

I glance at Maggie and am pleased to see that she is oblivious to our panic and is starting to cross the now quiet road. We follow her cautiously and Matt takes my arm as he reaches under his shirt and grasps the handle of his gun.

"Hey there!" The doctor has seen us approaching her and waves in greeting as she moves round to the trunk of the car. "Sorry I'm late."

My head is swimming as she inserts her key into the lock and I'm sure that Matt is going to open fire and ask questions later.

"My car is being serviced and I had to wait for my husband to get home so I could borrow his." The doctor is chattering merrily.

Matt relaxes a little beside me but still has hold of my arm and I know that his colleagues in the van are ready to pounce. I watch as the doctor takes her bag of equipment from the car and closes the trunk lid.

"So." She turns to face me and smiles warmly. "How are you today?"

"Fine." I return her smile and finally let out the breath that I was holding as Matt stands down.

It was Matt who decided that it would be safer for someone to come to the house and check that the pregnancy was going okay. He said it was easier to contain. I remember shuddering at the implications of his words and now I'm shaking as I realise how close to shooting the doctor he had just come.

He has now hurried into the kitchen to get her a drink and he seems as relieved as me that she is not the assassin or whatever it was that he had imagined.

"You look well." Claire offers and sits down beside me on the sofa.

I nod slightly and hand her the wad of paperwork that documents the progress of my pregnancy. Endless accounts of how well I'm doing and how normal everything seems to be. They have no idea.

I then notice that Claire is watching me in concern and for some reason it's making me uncomfortable. I've met her many times before but I don't know her. "I'm sorry that we seemed shocked to see you." I offer quickly, "I totally forgot that you were coming today."

"Don't worry." Claire shrugs, "I'm here now."

I hold my breath as she leans towards me and places her hand on my arm. I don't like being touched. She knows this. She picked up on it when she first met me. She started to probe that day and asked about my relationship with Matt. It would have been so easy to tell her.

"I've found you." Claire continues in a whisper. "And that's all that matters."

I can feel the lump that has risen in my throat as suddenly I know. I see the brief flash of bright orange in her eyes that confirms what I have guessed and my heart is racing again. They have been looking for me.

I want to throw my arms around her and hold her tightly. And I don't want her to ever leave. I can't speak and I can see in her face that she understands.

She sits back from me quickly as Matt wanders back into the lounge to join us and places a glass of lemonade on the table before her. We then work through how the pregnancy is going and it amuses me that she is not quite sure what to say. She stumbles for a moment with how to work the handheld ultrasound probe but Matt doesn't seem to notice any of the mistakes she is making. And I love her for doing this.

She falters for a second as the three of us listen to the rapid rhythm of the baby's heartbeat that is projected from the speaker of the probe. Her back is to Matt and she holds my gaze for a long moment. I think the reality of all this is affecting her more than she had expected it to. I'll have to tell the professor and the others that they've got her all wrong.

"I'm glad that you're doing so well." She offers and smiles thinly.

I see the look in her eyes and try to remain calm. She's going to tell them that she has found me.

"I guess I'll see you next week, then." I say quietly.

She nods and begins to clear away her equipment into her bag. Sitting back on the sofa, she adds a brief comment in my notes to continue the pretence and then thanks Matt for her drink. She sips at her lemonade slowly and I can sense that she does not want to leave any more than I want to let her go.

"Well." She finishes her drink and smiles warmly. "You've got the numbers for the hospital. Call if you need us."

"I will." I agree and then watch her stand. I know she could easily overcome Matt and take out the guards that would storm into the house. But she hasn't come here for that. She has just come to make contact. That fact alone tells me that she has spoken to the professor and, as disappointed as I am that this is not a rescue, I understand.

XXXXX

Matt thinks I'm continuing with my painting. I can hear him busying himself in the kitchen preparing dinner and I smile as I listen to the familiar sounds of the home that we have created. I am sure that I have hidden here for long enough. It must be safe for me to go back now.

I sit here cross-legged on the floor of the nursery and let the tears fall. I had resigned myself to the probability that I would never go back to the school. Never see Scott again. But now I am consumed by a need to be back there.

And not just for my sake. My son is going to need their guidance. We were foolish to have decided that it would be better this way.

"Hey …"

Matt's sudden presence at the door startles me and before I have realised what is happening he has crossed the room and is hugging me gently.

"What's wrong?" He leans back from me and sees that I have been crying for some time.

"Matt …" I reach up and touch his face. "Can we go for a walk?"

"Now?" He looks out at the dark evening and frowns in concern. "It's not safe."

"We need only wander across to the beach." I urge softly, "I just need some air." I watch him considering my request and weighing up the risks. "There are enough of you guys to watch over me."

"Okay." Matt stands slowly and holds out his hand to help me to my feet. "Just a short walk, then."

And it was short. We walked across the street to the beach and now sit here on the sand. The evening is fading fast and the lights from the road behind us dance on the water. The noise of the waves lapping the shore a small distance away is soothing and we listen in silence.

At least, that's what the surveillance team will think. The truth is that I have smoothed out an area of sand and have written what I want to say on the ground before us. I stare down at the words that briefly spell out the truth of my situation and cannot begin to imagine what Matt must be thinking.

Slowly he tears his eyes from the message and frowns at me in horror. After a moment he shakes his head in disbelief and then points to one of the words in the sand.

Mutant.

I nod slowly and look down at the pregnant swelling beneath my jumper. I hear his soft gasp and wonder for one horrible second whether I have made a mistake. Cautiously I look back up at him and see the concern in his eyes. He then stretches out his hand to wipe away the words and writes his own in the smooth sand.

Mob? Testify?

I read the words and shake my head in dismay, seeing his shoulders sag as he looks out over the sea and tries to take in what I'm telling him. I continue the message and wait for him to look back down.

Government. Danger.

Matt swallows hard as he reads and then replies. Why?

I shrug my shoulders and cannot help but laugh softly. He should have more clue than me – he works for the bastards. Sorry. I write quickly.

How? He writes after a moment.

I look into his face and his frown has deepened. He points to his head and I understand what he is asking. Mind control.

Now he begins to laugh but his smile fades as he sees the sincerity in my eyes. Fuck. He scribbles.

We sit still together for a long moment until he takes a deep breath and reaches out toward the sand.

What we do?

Doctor help. I answer and see the smile on his lips as he nods gently. He knew there was something up with her today.

OK. He writes and then sighs heavily. He smiles thinly and watches me for a moment. Thank you. He adds.

I link my arm through his and rest my head against his shoulder. And there we stay. Until we hear Maggie calling out to us and Matt jumps eagerly to his feet as he remembers about the muffins.

XXXXX

I love the beach. I think these past few months would have been unbearable if I didn't have this. I wander along the shoreline and look down at the low surf that splashes around my feet. The chill of the water is soothing on the stretched skin of my swollen ankles and my toes sink into the soft sand.

The beach is quiet in the mornings and this has become an occasional ritual. I'm aware of Matt following close behind me and he gently coughs when I've walked to the edge of the range of his colleagues in the van. When we go out in the car they follow us but it would look suspicious if they crawled along the edge of the road at the top of the beach. I turn back and retrace my steps.

Matt has not asked anything more about what I told him last night and I'm beginning to wonder if he really believed me. Or if he called his superiors and told them I've lost the plot. But maybe he just needs time to absorb it.

My musing is then interrupted as suddenly a young dog bounds over to me. Matt is beside me in an instant and this somehow amuses me. He smiles down at the dog and shrugs his shoulders slightly. I turn back to see the dog watching me eagerly and I lean down to stroke its head.

"Anna?"

I jump at the voice and look up slowly to watch the apparent owners of the dog jogging towards me. Now Matt is really tense and steps closer. I am glad for his protection and then see the couple that approaches and my heart jumps. "Wade?"

"Hey there!" Wade is laughing as he continues quickly up to me. "My god! Anna! I can't believe it!"

I glance at Matt and smile in reassurance. I turn back to Wade and he leans forward to place a kiss on my cheek.

"Anna!" Wade laughs again.

I nod in equal delight and then turn to Matt. "Matt, this is my old boss from New York. Wade, this is my husband."

"Husband?" Wade gasps and then his attention goes to my swollen abdomen. "Well … congratulations!" He stammers and smiles at me in wonder as he shakes Matt's hand. "We were so worried about you, Anna. No one knew why you had disappeared." Wade glances again at Matt and shrugs his shoulders. "But I'm glad you had a good reason to go." He suddenly remembers the woman standing beside him and turns to her to smile coyly. "Sorry! Anna, this is my sister, Kara."

I shake Kara's hand and she smiles in greeting. "Well. What brings you here?" I ask Wade.

"Our grandparents live a few miles up the coast. We came down for thanksgiving and decided to take the mutt for a walk." Wade indicates the dog that is watching us all in interest. "We saw this beach on the way through last night and thought we'd come back. This is so freaky!" Wade enthuses.

We watch each other for a moment and I want to ask him into the house for coffee but I don't know if Matt will think that's a good idea. And now I suddenly remember the files that Mystique stole and that the bank funded the experiment. I can't believe I had forgotten that. Now I find myself edging back towards Matt.

"Well, it was good to see you." I conclude gently. "Happy thanksgiving."

A slight frown of confusion crosses Wade's face and he glances at Matt. I don't care if he thinks I'm rude. I don't really mind what he thinks of me. I can just feel the panic growing inside me and I want to run. I would if I wasn't eight months pregnant.

"Okay." Wade shrugs. "It was good to see you. I'm glad you're alright."

"I am." I confirm and manage a warm smile. "Good to see you, too."

Wade and his sister continue on their walk along the beach and he looks back at me once or twice.

"What was that all about?" Matt asks after a moment and follows me back up the beach towards our house. "Anna?"

I spin back to face him and see the concern in his eyes, suddenly realising the mistake of revealing my real name. But of course, they would expect me to be using a different name.

I look across at the figures disappearing along the beach and shake my head. "I don't know, Matt. I just don't know." I turn back to him and then look past him to the silver van behind him.

"It's okay, Anna." Matt offers gently and then a smile crosses his mouth. "That suits you better than Emily."

I look into his eyes and my heart is pounding in my ears. "Please don't do this." I whisper softly and I can see in his hurt expression that he knows what I mean. He mustn't start to believe the deception. He has to keep his focus.

Matt nods slowly and waits for me to continue on towards the house. He follows me in silence and I know I've hurt his feelings but I had to stop him falling for me.

XXXXX

I've waited all day for a sign. Hoping that Mystique would somehow contact me again and tell me what the hell I am supposed to do. I had thought that she might have written something in my pregnancy notes but I could read nothing into the simple comment she scribbled. I wish I had a number to call or some way of contacting her. And then I remember her parting comment yesterday and I climb out of bed.

Matt is still awake and the light from the television flashes around the dark lounge. I watch him for a moment as he gazes at the images on the screen and think perhaps I ought to risk talking to him. I wonder if he has said anything about what I told him to his colleagues and if it would be okay to tell him more.

With a sigh I grab my pregnancy record from the table inside the lounge door and then wander into the kitchen. I dial the number for the obstetric unit at the hospital and listen to the ringing tone. I'm hoping that this is what she meant; that my call will be redirected and one of them will pick up the phone.

It's then that I get my sign. But not quite what I wanted. The surveillance van has exploded.

XXXXX

The force of the explosion blew in the windows at the front of the house. Intense heat and shards of glass were hurled at me and I was thrown onto the floor of the kitchen. An eerie silence then followed and I was aware only of my rapid breaths echoing in the kitchen.

Then all hell broke loose. I heard Matt yelling my name and hoped he had caught my frightened reply. I lifted my head and was sure I saw him hurrying through the hall towards me. But then the gunfire started and he was gone.

I don't know how many people our attackers must have thought were inside the house but they riddled the windows and walls with bullets from automatic weapons and the noise was terrifying. It seemed an age before the firing ceased and I stayed curled up under the kitchen table. I listened to pieces of masonry and glass falling and heard the roaring of the flaming van.

Then I hear them on the front porch and the crunching of glass under heavy boots. And Matt is suddenly beside me. As I begin to sit up, he puts his finger over his lips and shakes his head in warning. His face is covered in blood from the many cuts where glass has shredded his skin but he ignores my concern and begins to quickly look over my body. Satisfied that I also am uninjured but for superficial grazes, he signals for me to stay where I am.

And he's gone. I huddle under the table in fear and close my eyes. I don't know how he crept outside to the front of the house so stealthily and so quickly but I can hear his gun fire as he picks off the invaders one by one.

There were only seven of them. But they had surprise on their side. No longer. Matt is now alert and acutely aware of every detail in the wrecked house and surrounding grounds. He hurries back into the kitchen and his breathing is heavy as he crouches beside me.

"We have to get out of here!" Matt whispers harshly and takes my hand.

"Where?" I demand.

"To the rendezvous point." Matt answers simply and pulls me out from under the table. He forces me to keep low and begins to lead me across the kitchen.

We step outside into the garden and Matt drags me across to the shadow of the side fence. Making our way along the outer edge of the garden and then quickly into the uncovered area that joins the front lawns, Matt quickly scans the road and the beach for signs of further threat. He decides it is safe to make a dash for the parked cars but I can't move.

Matt turns back to me with a worried frown and then follows my gaze to see what I have seen.

Maggie.

She must have stepped outside to see what was going on. Or perhaps she tried to warn us. I shake my hand free of Matt's grasp and hurry across to where she is laying beside her front porch.

"Anna!" Matt hisses a warning under his breath and quickly pursues me. "We have to get out of here!"

I don't hear him. I'm not listening. I can't focus on anything but the body of my friend lying awkwardly on the grass. She has been shot in the head. Her eyes stare blankly up at the night sky and the only damage seems to be the tiny whole in the centre of her forehead. Then I see the dark patch that glistens on the lawn around her head and I gag. I cover my mouth with my hand and can feel my stomach heaving.

"Come on!" Matt insists and grabs my shoulder.

I flinch at his touch and close my eyes, sagging forward onto the grass beside Maggie. Suddenly I remember Don and I get to my feet. I start towards their house and gasp as Matt suddenly grabs my arm and yanks me back from the porch.

"No! Anna!" He husks against my ear. "You can't help them. We have to leave!"

I strain against him but then see that the front door has been forced open and there are mud tracks leading into the house. I want to scream. Tears well in my eyes and I want to yell and shout. But then Matt's words finally get through to me and I fall against him.

"Please, Anna. We have to get out of here." Matt whispers gently.

I nod and turn to follow him towards the cars. Then I remember the transmitter and suddenly I've spun back and I'm running back into our house.

"Anna!" Matt warns angrily.

I run through the kitchen, nearly slipping over on the shattered glass that tears at my socks. Hurtling into the hall, I fling open the cupboard door and pull out my jacket.

"Anna!" Matt calls as he hurries after me. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"It's in here somewhere – I know it is!" I explain quickly.

"What is?" Matt sighs angrily, "Anna – I'm not fucking joking! We seriously have to get the fuck out of here!" He steps closer to me and then suddenly freezes.

And my heart jolts as I hear it too.

Sirens.

"Anna!"

Matt grabs my arm and drags me away from the cupboard. I stumble after him, still fumbling with the collar of my jacket. And I find it. I can't help but whoop in delight as my fingers close around the tiny device and I press the centre button hard.

I'm being hauled out of the house and through to the back garden as the transmitter lights up and I know they'll hear the signal. I clutch the device tightly in my fist and stumble along behind Matt. We make it to the end of the back garden as the patrol cars skid to a halt on the road in front of the house.

Matt somehow lifts me up high enough to get a good grip of the wooden back fence and I don't know how but manage to scramble over. I lower myself down carefully but the landing is still fierce and I take a moment to catch my breath. My sides ache from running and my abdomen is tense. I look up to see Matt grabbing the top of the fence and he pulls himself up over the top as I then hear the police officers shout their warning.

There's a single shot as Matt heaves himself over the fence and I watch in fear as he drops down beside me. He lands hard on his back and I can hear him gasping for breath. He must have winded himself as he landed. I hurry over to him and he reaches out for me, clutching at my arms as he struggles to take in air.

And then I see it. Blood pouring from the hole in his neck.

"No!" I press both hands over the wound and my fingers slide amid the warm blood. The liquid is thudding hard against my skin and I am clueless when it comes to anatomy. But I know enough to know this is not good.

"Anna …" Matt gurgles and coughs hard, blood splattering from his mouth. He closes his eyes and blood bubbles from the hole in his neck as he groans weakly. "Anna … go …"

"No." I shake my head defiantly and tears are clouding my vision. Which is a good thing as the sight of him dying before me is making me feel faint.

"POLICE!"

I ignore the officers that come tearing towards me from both ends of the short alleyway and continue to look into Matt's pale face. He opens his eyes and they are filled with pain. I know he can see how scared I am but he also must realise that I'm not going to leave him. And he smiles weakly. As his face then relaxes, I can sense the tension leaving his body and the thudding under my hands is slowing.

"It's okay, ma'am!" One of the police officers has walked up beside me and I can see her gun poised warily before her. "You're safe now."

I frown in confusion and then remember the gun that Matt still has in his grasp and I shake my head in dismay. "He was protecting me!" I look up at the stern faces of the officers that surround me and can feel my tears beginning to fall. "He's FBI!" I shout suddenly, a sob catching in my throat. "He was helping me and you fucking shot him!" I turn to the female officer beside me and see that she has not relaxed her poise. "He's FBI." I repeat quietly. "And you've killed him."

The officers seem to relax a little at this and can see for themselves in the light from the street lamp that Matt is not breathing. The female officer beside me lowers her gun but keeps it cocked as she moves closer to me.

"Okay, ma'am. Please. Let us get you to safety."

I suddenly realise that they must know about the witness protection scam that was in place here. Of course, they would have to be informed in case of a situation such as this arising. They must think that the mob has tried to take out the witness that I am supposed to be. They believe the illusion.

There are more sirens approaching now and recognise their different tone. The officer beside me gently places her hand on my shoulder and I'm too tired to shrug her off.

"Come on. You need medical attention." She offers softly.

I don't want to leave Matt. I know he's gone but somewhere deep inside me is the irrational thought that maybe he'll suddenly come back to life.

"Please, ma'am."

Satisfied that Matt is no threat, some of the officers begin to wander back round to the front of the house to begin their investigation into what has happened here. I put up no resistance as the female officer takes my arm and helps me to my feet and my legs are shaking as I let her lead me round to one of the ambulances.

"Hey there." The paramedic hurries towards us and helps me step up inside the ambulance. He sits me down on the side of the stretcher and frowns in concern as he examines the cuts on my face and arms. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

It takes a minute for his question to register in my confused mind and I shake my head as I look up into his gentle face. I stare at him for a moment and wait for the tell tale orange glow that will tell me that it's her. It never comes and I look down at my hands. And the sticky blood that covers them.

"What's your name, honey?"

I swallow back the lump in my throat and take a deep breath. "Emily."

"Okay, Emily. I just need to check your blood pressure." The paramedic wraps the cuff around my arm and then continues to gently examine me for further injuries.

Something about being touched with his gloved hands makes me want to scream but I haven't the strength. I let him do his job and cannot take my eyes away from the dark matter that is drying on my fingers. This is the second time that I've had the blood of someone special on my hands.

"How pregnant are you, Emily?"

"35 weeks." I reply quietly and close my eyes as I realise that I had actually forgotten about my baby for a time. My hands now move to my pregnancy and I can feel him moving slowly within me. I then frown as I feel the tension under my pyjamas and realise that the bump is becoming tight. It's done this several times over the past few weeks and I remember Claire telling me that it was normal. Practice contractions or something. They are not painful and the tightness in my abdomen now does not hurt.

"You okay?" The paramedic asks softly.

It's a stupid question but I know what he means and I nod wearily.

"Come on. Swing your feet up and have a lie down." The young man helps me roll onto my side and covers me with a blanket.

I clutch the soft material close around me and close my eyes. It would be so easily to fall asleep and try to forget all that has happened. I then hear the paramedic talking with a man that has approached the back of the ambulance and I open my eyes.

"Emily?" The greying man raises his eyebrows expectantly. As I nod slowly he climbs up into the ambulance and perches on the chair opposite me. "My name is Detective Desota." He smiles thinly, "I just wanted to assure you that we know about your situation. We'll have you moved to another secure location in just a second but wanted to ask a few questions first." He watches me for a moment and then glances back out at the charred remains of the van and the bullet-ridden house beyond.

"Do you know who they were?" I ask timidly.

He nods and then shrugs his shoulders. "And that's what I don't get." He sighs, "They were FBI."

"What?" I sit up quickly and stare at him in horror. "But the van - "

"Was empty."

I close my eyes and sink back against the pillows. Suddenly I know what has happened. The surveillance team heard what I told Matt. They came to destroy the evidence. They came for me.

And I realise that this is why the police shot Matt. They must have quickly determined who was attacking the house and then when they saw him dragging me through the garden...

And then I remember Maggie. Killing her made no sense. Unless you didn't want any witnesses. I glance out of the ambulance and see the police officers emerging from the house on the other side of ours. I don't really know the other neighbours that well. But they too have been murdered because they might have known me.

"Have you any idea why they attacked you, Emily?"

Absolutely, I think to myself. But I'm not going to tell you.

"Emily. If there's something you're not telling me …" He pauses for a moment. "People have put their lives at risk to hide you … and now my men are about to do the same."

Not for long, the voice inside my head replies. I feel a calmness wash over me as I imagine him already tracing the signal. He'll be here soon. And then suddenly I remember. Somewhere during my struggle over the fence and amid the chaos that erupted as I watched Matt die, I dropped the transmitter.

My heart sinks and there's a fuzzy ringing in my ears that is familiar. I'm going to faint. The detective is still asking me about the attack but I'm not listening. The dizziness has past and now my weary head is becoming full of determination. My son kicks inside me again and the movement was all I needed to help make my mind up. We are alone. Completely alone. And I have to save us. I just don't know quite how.

The detective sighs in dismay and decides to give up trying to talk to me. My eyes are closed but I can hear him leave and the ambulance rocks as the paramedic steps back up inside. I can then hear the engine start and the driver calls back to his colleague to close the door.

"Where are you taking me?" I ask quietly as I look up at the paramedic and watch him locking the back door securely.

"The police will escort us to the hospital so you can be checked over properly." The young man replies and smiles in reassurance as he sits down on the chair beside the stretcher. "And then they'll take you wherever they feel is the safest."

Somehow, I doubt that will be anywhere near New York and I swallow hard. I'm all I've got now.

XXXXX

The paramedic must think that I've fallen asleep. He's dimmed the interior lights and speaks in a low whisper to the driver through the partition. But I'm not asleep. Far from it. My mind is racing and I'm trying to think of a way to escape. It's not going to be easy while the ambulance is moving and then there's the police escort. I open my eyes and can see the flicker of colour that flashes behind the frosted glass of the back door. The police are very close behind us. Even if I could get the door open, if I jumped from the back of the ambulance I'd be under the wheels of the patrol car in an instant.

I'll have to wait until the ambulance stops. But they won't let me go unless I've got currency to bargain with. I'll have to use the paramedic as a hostage. Now I'm glancing around at the equipment that I can see in the cupboards above and beside me. I've almost got a plan formed, involving oxygen tubing and a pair of sharp scissors. But then the ambulance swerves violently and I'm flung against the windows.

XXXXX

It takes me a moment to realise that we have tipped over. I'm dazed and my head is throbbing. I must have hit it against the shelves beside the bed. And now I'm slumped against the straps that secured me to the stretcher and the side of the ambulance has become the floor. I struggle to twist my arm up and around to release the buckle of the strap across my chest and then reach down for the strap across my hips.

I had panicked when the paramedic first strapped me in but he had insisted that all patients had to be secured for transport. And now I'm glad for his persistence. Had I not have been strapped in then I would have been tossed around inside the ambulance as he had been. And he is now lying worryingly still beside me and makes no sound as I release the last strap over my legs and fall against him as I roll off of the stretcher. I then freeze as the handle of the back door turns and the door flops open heavily onto the ground.

"Hey, Baz! You okay? Baz!" the driver calls through the opening. He quickly clambers inside and checks on the paramedic. "Oh shit!" The driver sighs and then turns to me. "And you? You okay?"

I shake my head and then begin to make my way carefully across the line of cupboards. "What happened?"

"The front tyre blew." The driver replies gruffly and I can see tears welling in his eyes as he regards the still form of his colleague.

I can now hear police surrounding the ambulance and they shout to us to get out quickly while the coast is clear. I follow the driver from the ambulance and frown in concern as I see the police milling around the crashed ambulance worriedly, their guns aimed into the darkness of the trees on either side of the road.

"Quickly!" An officer grabs my arm and begins to lead me hurriedly towards a nearby patrol car. I look back at the ambulance and see what has spooked the police. A bullet hole in the door above the wheel where the first shot missed. I don't recall hearing shots fired and begin to understand the alarm this has caused. A sniper with a silencer. An ambush.

"Hodges!" The officer says quickly into the radio clipped to his shoulder. "I'll get her out in my car. Is back up en route?" He listens to the reply as he steps up his pace and drags me quickly towards the black and white. "Okay, Hodges, I'll - "

I gasp as the officer suddenly stops walking and is now staring at me in confusion and surprise. I then see in the light from the car headlights that dark blood is trickling down his face from the small hole in his temple. Shrugging his hand from my arm, I watch in horror as he silently slumps forward onto the ground. And now I can hear a quiet high-pitched squeak coming from somewhere behind me and the police begin to fire wildly into the trees. I sink to my knees and my body is trembling in fear as the police are picked off one at a time and soon all of the officers are lying still in the road.

Somehow I guessed that I wasn't the target here but that is of no reassurance. If the gunman doesn't want me dead, then I can guess who might be behind the attack and I'm not surprised as I see the soldiers that now emerge from their hiding places amid the trees.

The four of them had covered the road from both sides and now watch me warily as they approach. One of them then unclips a radio from his belt and declares that the mission is complete and they have me in custody.

I couldn't stand right now even if they held a rifle to my head but the soldiers seem content to simply stand guard as I sit here on my heels and try to fathom what has happened. I look up as I hear the car that approaches and my mind is racing as the doors open. I'm trying to develop a new plan of escape but somehow I don't think that is an option. Not now. Not ever. But despite this, I'm feeling so calm. Perhaps I knew that this was inevitable. And it is no surprise as Wade steps out of the car and smiles down at me.