A/N: Sorry for the delay my faithful readers. Stay tuned for more exciting chapters. Enjoy!

009

The farmlands of Wisconsin were rustic and beautiful. The freeway that we drove on revealed acres of green terrain that stretched for miles. Small houses and farms dotted the sides of the highway and an occasional city opened up to reveal moderate buildings that occupied most cities across the country. We had been on the road for almost fourteen hours, stopping every couple of hours to rest and gas up.

"Did you know that the work you did could potentially kill lives?" I asked Dr. Shearing as Aaron searched for an exit off the freeway so we can relieve ourselves. She answered with a low voice, quietly as if she had done something wrong.

"No. I saw it as a means of paving a way for future genetics and possibly discovering the human accessibility to alter our own genetic code. I never intended it as a way to control or eliminate lives."

She stressed the last sentence mostly toward Aaron as if trying to convince him that she had nothing to do with the recent events that have been set in motion. Ever since we left New York, Aaron had been distant with her, often times not speaking to her which made close encounters like this awkward. His behavior was troubling and soon after we had drove into Pennsylvania, I had become increasingly worried.

"You are a very good liar Doc," Aaron answered before I could reply. His words were cold and the tone of his voice was distrustful. Turning off the ramp, he maneuvered onto the intersecting road that ran underneath the overpass and pulled into the parking lot of a gas station. Stopping the car in front of one of the eight gas pumps, he turned the engine off and got out.

"Why does he hate me?" Dr. Shearing asked, timidly once Aaron shut the door behind him. I turned to look at her distressed face. She rubbed her chin and tucked her bangs behind her ears. She looked much worse than when we had first met. Her hair was tied back in an oily, sloppy ponytail and her clothes were thoroughly disheveled. She seemed exhausted resting her head and body against the back seat. I suddenly felt empathy for her plight.

"I don't know," I confessed as she studied me with interest. Her brown eyes were large, inquisitive and quite lovely.

"I'm sorry about your sister," she said, offering her condolences. Lowering my gaze, I felt a pang of sadness.

"She was a lot like you. She died believing she could change the world for the better," I reminisced. Dr. Shearing smiled consolingly and rubbed her fingers together. Aaron popped his head in and asked if we had to use the restroom. I didn't have to, but Dr. Shearing did and so we waited as she departed for the gas station.

"Are you alright?" I inquired, concerned. He looked at me with dazzling blue eyes, his stony expression finally softening for the first time since we left the safe house.

"I don't trust her," Aaron said, conspiratorially. Raising an eyebrow, I wanted to know why. He must have understood my questioning expression, because he quickly continued. "How is it that she is the sole survivor in that lab shooting? Why did she get away? She knew what she was doing there. The information that she possessed was too great a risk, so why not kill her also? Why keep her alive?"

The questions he asked were perplexing and raised dangerous issues. Biting my lip in thought, I concurred with his suspicions.

"How do you know she's lying?" I asked.

Aaron glanced in the direction of the gas station and then returned his skeptical gaze back to me.

"Her body language is all wrong. She's always moving around; adjusting something here, brushing something there and she's too defensive. She's jumpy and nervous and she proclaims her innocence too quickly. All are sure signs of a liar," Aaron confided in an undertone. I mulled his words over and the more I examined the past few hours over in my head, the more his revelation made sense. Everything about Dr. Shearing was stiff and practiced. I realized I had mistaken her fidgeting and lack of emotional response as exhaustion.

"Although I don't like it, we have no choice. She needs to come along to viral me off," he added. A sudden horrifying thought accosted me.

"What if she doesn't do it? What if she ends up hurting you instead?" I proclaimed, staring at him with fearful eyes. Aaron reached over and touched my hair, gently. Affection burned brightly in his gorgeous face. My heart danced joyfully in response.

"That is a risk I'll have to take," he said and leaned over to kiss me. Aaron's lips were miraculous, creating waves of desire that rushed through me with incredible force. I had to coerce myself to control the mounting eagerness that swelled through my body. The inviting touch of his fingers lingered on my thigh as he reluctantly pulled away. A small smile appeared on his unslaked tantalizing face. I licked my lips completely unsatisfied.

At that moment, Dr. Shearing returned and our unfinished intimate rendezvous was interrupted.

"We should arrive at the factory in two hours," Aaron announced as the engine roared to life under his control. Staring out into the lush fields as we got back on the freeway, Aaron's disclosure of the doctor's deception put me on guard. The truth was so hard to find and it was this definite knowledge that would reveal a deluge of secrets that may or may not put me at ease. The discouraging burden ate at my conscious, twisting this way and that fraying and unraveling a montage of unsettling possibilities.

These unfavorable thoughts afflicted my mind as the scenery outside the car blurred and became nothing more than shades of color that flew swiftly by. So preoccupied was I that I didn't notice the car slowing down until Aaron entered onto a residential street and spoke.

"We're going to need pass codes and IDs and Doc you're going to provide those."

"I don't have any IDs on me. Whatever I had were confiscated when they locked me up at that place," Dr. Shearing pointed out, irritated. Aaron glanced at her reflection in the rear view mirror and replied with a calming authority.

"But you have the codes-"

"Yes, I have the codes, but without the IDs we cannot get access into the restricted areas," Dr. Shearing interrupted and leaned toward the front. "The IDs are key cards, a secondary security feature for VIPs."

"Now what?" I muttered, completely at a loss as to what to do. Aaron's gaze was steady as he watched the oncoming traffic with a motionless, serene indifference.

"Then we steal some," he answered, smoothly. His seemingly effortless outcome to our predicament made Dr. Shearing and I both stare at him with awe. He caught my confounded look and added with relaxed mirth. "I'm open to any suggestions you two may have."

"Could you not make any, like the passports?" I offered and he shook his head.

"There's no time. I fear we may have already been followed," Aaron warned and turned onto a side street. Parking the car and killing the engine, he nodded toward a cluster of buildings not far off in the distance. The smaller structures surrounded a bigger building with a guard post before the entrance into the complex.

"The protocols here may be different, but they should allow us to enter if I let them know who I am," Dr. Shearing declared. Aaron reached behind his back and took out the 9mm tucked underneath his jacket. Depositing the gun in the glove compartment, he got out of the car, slipped the backpack onto his shoulders and gestured for us to follow him.

We approached the grounds at a normal pace, following the flowered path that wound its way toward the guard post. The place seemed deserted as if the halt of manufacturing had taken its toll on the factory. The parking lot where employees parked were empty except for a few SUVs and trucks. The place looked abandoned.

"Sterisyn-Morlanta has a network that provides access to all employees. The guard should be able to confirm my identity quickly," Dr. Shearing announced and nodded toward the small building that contained a guard who peered at us with growing interest.

"Act like you belong," Aaron advised as we converged at the opening of the post. The guard nearest scrutinized us with concerned attentiveness. Aaron smiled politely and offered his hand. The guard who was a Caucasian male in his early thirties extended his own calloused hand and tentatively shook Aaron's.

"Hello. How are you?" Aaron greeted with a friendly smile. The guard looked at him with amenable interest, his small eyes furtive with a cautious intensity.

"Hi. I'm Dr. Shearing. I'm here to collect samples to transfer back to the lab in Maryland," the doctor informed. "This is Dr. Brundage and his assistant," she pointed to Aaron and then to me. The guard turned to a computer monitor that sat on a low desk.

"Your ID code please," he asked. With strained nervousness, Dr. Shearing answered quickly.

"285179."

Biting her lip in an attempt to quell her anxiousness, Dr. Shearing swallowed and waited in disguised agitation. My eyes darted to Aaron who never left his gaze from the guard. The look of feigned cordiality was still painted on his stunning features.

"Dr. Shearing, there is no log of you arriving today," the guard spoke after consulting with the computer.

"Of course, there wouldn't be. After the incident in Maryland, all research has stopped, but the order for the stems were issued weeks ago before the shooting by the Director himself."

"I'm afraid you don't have authorization to access the lower labs," the guard proceeded to explain. Dr. Shearing plowed on, growing fear evident in her face.

"But I do. 6583," she commanded. "Put that in. That is the access code...go on," she instructed, quite convincingly. The guard narrowed his eyes, skeptical and a little taken aback by the sternness in her voice. Faltering with indecision, he paused unsure of what to do. As if interpreting this moment as an appropriate time to speak, Aaron leaned toward the post slightly and said in a casual tone of voice.

"You can call the Director and ask him yourself if you like. We can wait."

It was a simple enough offer, which the guard should have taken, but Aaron had said it in such a way that the guard was influenced to oblige to our demands instead. The tone of Aaron's voice was friendly, but with the steely edge of a threat behind it. Without further inquiry, the guard put in the code and widened his eyes in understanding.

"Yes, Dr. Shearing, you may enter, but I'm afraid Dr. Brundage and his assistant are not allowed in the labs," the guard explained and shifted his gaze to Dr. Shearing. Showing mock disappointment, Aaron extended his hand out as if in frustration, but halfway through the gesture, he reached out and grabbed the front of the guard's uniform and yanked it so hard toward the window that the force cracked the glass. I gasped loudly at the unexpected violence and jumped back instinctively. With another hard wrench, Aaron smacked him against the glass once more which incapacitated him. Snaking his other hand through, Aaron grasped the key card that dangled from the guard's belt. Leaving the motionless guard slumped over, we hurried toward the building.

"Nothing like a little broken glass to cheer us up in the morning," I said to no one in particular. "I hope that doesn't leave a mark."

The comedic hint in my statement made Aaron eye me with an amused grin. His attractive face caused my heart to leap with longing. Clutching my hand in his, we neared a side entrance. Dr. Shearing stared at our entwined hands with an uncomfortable understanding, but I had no time to ponder the meaning, because attached to the door was a key pad and scanner. Entering her access code, the doctor stepped aside to let Aaron swipe the key card. With an audible beep, the door unlocked and we entered into a side hallway leading into a vast room full of quiet machines and conveyor belts. The massive area was strangely empty, leaving an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach. Making our way into this room, we hurried to the opposite side, passing several rows of boxes, unopened doors, and panels of blinking lights.

"The lab should be through here," Dr. Shearing announced and approached a lone door with a restricted sign in bold red letters affixed to the front. Using the code and key again, we made our way through and down a flight of stairs to the lower floor. Opening another entrance, we filed into a wide room. Half of the area was separated by partitions and a narrow path ran along the side. Each section was set up like makeshift examination rooms complete with cots, lamps, and medical supplies. The other half of the large chamber contained several freezers, test tubes, syringes, and an assortment of scientific instruments. Gray cabinets lined the white washed walls making the place look intimidatingly hygienic. I was reminded of hospital rooms and the spotless sanitary conditions therein.

"There isn't much time before someone finds the guard outside. Do your magic Doc," Aaron announced and quickly slid his backpack from his shoulders. Dr. Shearing began preparing the virus stems taking them from one of the freezers. I focused my attention on something else as she began mixing a combination of liquids together into a syringe. I wasn't particularly fond of needles so I walked over to one of the small examination rooms and peered in. The bed was most inviting because sleep had been scarce lately, but I pushed the fatigue away and returned to the counter where the doctor was. She glanced at me and returned her attention to her work.

"What happens after this?" She suddenly asked after a moment. "Where are you going to go?" Her inquiries racked my mind, making me look at her questioningly.

"I need to know who murdered my sister," I reminded her. "Searching for the ones responsible would be the next logical step."

She stopped to stare at me pointedly. The expression on her face was curious and probing as if something about me fascinated her.

"Is that the only reason?" Dr. Shearing wanted to know, her voice strangely soft. I returned her look with confusion and when I did not answer, she continued. "Besides finding your sister's killer, you are willing to run all over the world with a man like Aaron? From police interrogations, he seems like a very dangerous person."

Her bold query surprised and upset me. The former because although she didn't know me all that much with the little time we had been together, she caught on quick. I could understand why she was a scientist, she had the brains for it. The latter because she had no business delving into Aaron and my relationship.

"I trust him with my life. He has saved it several times," I answered, fondly. Dr. Shearing looked away and resumed her concoction. She must have noticed how uncomfortable I was, because she assured with calmness.

"I meant no disrespect. I am simply trying to understand."

Her acceptance of my answer created a flurry of panic in my chest. I watched as she filled the lethal looking syringe with the virus, ignoring the queasiness in my stomach and worry for Aaron spread like wildfire through me.

"Is he going to be alright?"

"Yes, once the fever subsides, he should be okay," she replied, squeezing the air bubbles out of the tube. A recollection appeared in my mind creating more unease within me.

"He had a fever when we first met," I responded, barely audible.

"This one will be worse, much stronger and will last for several hours. We will have to find a place where he can sleep," Dr. Shearing said and tapped the syringe.

"Violette," Aaron called from where he'd been standing the whole time listening. I approached him and he reached for my hand. The warmth from his skin was alluring and made feather light touches graze all over mine. "Don't worry, I'll live."

His affirmation didn't suppress the fear that nagged at my heart. It ate away at the consolation that I heard in his voice and the comfort in his touch.

"You didn't see yourself sick. You don't know what it's like," I persisted, but he squeezed my hand and brushed his fingers to my face with his other.

"I'll be fine," Aaron said firmly, his eyes so beautiful that I wanted to gaze in them forever. At that moment, Dr. Shearing declared that the virus was ready. I couldn't bear to look as she inserted the needle into his arm. My eyes strayed to the side and I felt foolish, because it wasn't like I was the one being poked and yet I felt agony. The concern I had for Aaron was so great that I could feel the pain the syringe inflicted. Aaron on the other hand, did not seem to feel it at all. He, in fact stood calm and composed through the ordeal.

When it was finished, Dr. Shearing went to dispose of the needle and left us alone. I glared at the bandage on his arm like it was a roguishly disgusting scab that I wanted nothing more than to rip away from his skin.

"Why are you so upset?" Aaron asked gently, his tone low. "The fear in your eyes should not be there." He gathered me close against his chest and kissed the top of my head. The tender moment seared my heart with longing.

"I'm scared because..." I faltered at a loss for words. My hesitation made him frown, a troubled expression in his handsome face. I struggled with what to say to make him understand. "I care for you," I managed to say. He tilted his head to the side, quizzically.

"You're scared because you care for me?" Aaron deduced, confused.

"No...um yes. Ugh," I stuttered. Why was this so hard? He stared at me patiently as I took a breath.

"I care about you so much that I'm scared of losing you," the words tumbled out of my mouth. A grin curved on Aaron's lips as he took my face into his hands.

"I'm not going anywhere so you don't need to be frightened," he promised and leaned slowly down. The glimmer of affection in his blue eyes glittered like precious jewels, but before his lips reached mine, running footsteps echoed on the stairs above us. The sound was heightened because of the silence and sounded like a dozen men were trampling towards us. Aaron froze for a split second and then grabbed his backpack off the floor. The next few moments were a complete blur as if the fast forward button was pressed to speed up time.

"Put this on!" He yelled and swung around toward the door as two guards similar to the one outside barged in.

"You're not supposed to be down here!" One of the guards yelled crossly. I backed away as Aaron threw a punch at the first guard. Staggering back from the surprising blow, the man collided with the one behind him. The third guard appeared and quickly drew his weapon, but Aaron was faster and kicked the first guard squarely in the chest. The momentum forced all the bodies to crash against the far wall. They all slid to the floor in a cacophony of pained noise. Muffled grunts burst forth from the pile of squirming limbs as the guards struggled to get up.

Dr. Shearing appeared at my side, horror on her face. Aaron stomped on the third guard's hand with a sickening crunch, tore the gun from his grasp and using the handle of the weapon, bludgeoned him over the head. The second guard had gotten to his feet, swaying from the forced vertigo. With one short burst, Aaron squeezed the trigger and the man slumped over dead.

"Aaron!" I called out in alarm as the first guard grabbed his leg. Without even looking at him, Aaron shot him in the head with ease.

"Let's go, now!" He ordered and grabbed his jacket where he had shrugged it off earlier. Putting the guard's gun in my right hand, Aaron pulled out another from one of the fallen and took my left hand in his other.

"They're here!" He hollered and dragged me up the stairs. Dr. Shearing followed scrambling unto the railing with haste. Reaching the landing within seconds, Aaron pushed open the door leading to the huge room of machines. Several more guards and men dressed in black blazers entered from the far side moving toward us with hurried purpose. Yanking me down behind a metal contraption, Aaron whispered to me in a low voice.

"Shoot as many as you can. Remember what I showed you."

I nodded, dread bubbling in my chest as my fingers began to tremble. The approaching footsteps echoed nearer causing a discordant distress and foreboding to pile on top of the already evident terror in me.

"Doc, stay close," Aaron advised Dr. Shearing and then peeked around the frame of the mechanism. Without hesitation, he led us into the fray. Loud popping noises erupted in the stillness as Aaron began firing his 9mm. Shouts of startled cries rung shrilly in the air. The ricochet of the bullets hitting nearby machines reverberated deafeningly. Returning fire rebounded around us as metal clashed against steel. Moving at a constant pace, Aaron pulled me further toward the side door that we had gained entrance. His grasp on my hand was tight and strong.

Halfway across the room, I turned back and saw two guards hurrying after us. They brandished their weapons taking aim. Automatically, I raised the gun in my hand and tried to steady the quiver in my fingers. Pulling the trigger, I pumped the gun a few rounds and watched as the guards crumpled. Elation coursed through me and the realization that I had gotten a hit not once, but twice relieved my terrified conscience. Dr. Shearing screamed as the gunshots barreled past her. Aaron swung his attention behind us as her shriek alerted him. Focusing his gun with perfect aim, he shot at a man who was sneaking slowly behind us.

Continuing on, we were almost within reach of the door. I looked back once again and realized that Dr. Shearing was lagging behind. Upon further inspection, I spotted the red stain that had began soaking the front of her shirt. She clutched at the crimson splotch, her pale fingers dripping with blood. Dr. Shearing swayed and fell to her knees, the look of dazed surprise on her ashen face. Another guard poked up from one of the machines near her and without restraint, I pointed my gun at him and fired. I missed horribly as he ducked down out of sight.

"Aaron!" I yelled above the din. "Dr. Shearing is hurt!"

He twisted around just as more ammunition whizzed past us. Crouching behind a large conveyor belt, he peered cautiously toward the doctor. I flinched as more bullets bounced off the belt in front of us.

"We can't go back for her!" Aaron said, urgently shifting his eyes toward the door just a few feet away. His words bombarded me with despair.

"We can't just leave her here to die!" I replied. His azure gaze darted back to me as he leaned down close to my face.

"If we go back to get her, we all will die," he answered in a firm tone. The way he said it sounded so cold and heartless, but nevertheless I understood the truth in his words. I let him steer me away toward the awaiting door. With a heavy heart, I stole a look back and saw Dr. Shearing laying on her side, motionless, the stark blank look of death like a shroud over her. This horrible image was like a page from my past, a shadow of a passing that I did not want to dwell on and yet it reminded me so much of my sister.

Fighting back the tears that brimmed on my eyelids, I followed Aaron into the afternoon sun. Crossing the parking lot, we ran toward the heavy residential area that surrounded the facility. Not returning to the Taurus, we scoured the neighborhood relying on garages, dense foliage, and heavy traffic to camouflage our whereabouts.

Within an hour, Aaron halted, his breathing was harsh and he seemed strangely tired. We stood in an alley as he leaned onto a wooden fence, panting.

"We need to find a place for the night. I can feel the virus working. Soon, I won't be able to stand," he murmured, raking his fingers through his hair. Worry tightened my chest as I reached for him. My fingers brushed his arm and his already hot skin caused anxiety to surge in my heart.

"Alright," I agreed and wove my hand around his arm.