A/N: Another chapter! Hope you all likes. Reviews are appreciated!

011

I floated in a fog of grey shapes and distorted forms. Tendrils of curled smoke swayed and frolicked around me as if enticing me to grasp their wispy shadows. Suspended in limbo, I writhed and squirmed as if in chains. The invisible shackles that bound me squeezed tighter, creating flames of pain that shot up my body. The agony jolted me awake, propelling me from the fuzzy world of lethargic dreams to the sharp, clear and distinct reality of the real world.

My eyes focused on the bright fluorescent lights that shone boldly down on the empty room save for the chair that I was strapped on. Directly in front of me against the far wall, was Aaron. His hands were above his head, encased in steel buckles that were bolted in the concrete wall behind him. His booted feet was bound the same restraining him in a standing position. Flecks and smears of black soot covered his disheveled clothes making him look forlorn and beaten. The misery that bubbled in my heart rose to a screaming pitch.

"Aaron?" I whispered, fearfully. His eyes snapped open as if he was only on the edge of sleep. His worried gaze scrutinized me with growing concern.

"Are you hurt?" He asked, breathily. I shook my head slowly and realized a dull throbbing sting was still at the back of my head. "Can you move?"

My arms were strung behind me around the back of the chair. Testing my bonds, I felt sharp plastic biting into my flesh. The chafing from the ties was painful, making me wince. Each of my feet were attached to one chair leg with the same plastic ties. The fastenings were strong and left no room for movement.

"No," I hopelessly answered. Aaron pursed his lips to speak, but the single door out of the enclosed room jerked open and a man walked in. Slamming the door behind him, he looked at me with cold hazel eyes. He was in his mid forties with brown hair, a tall stature and a commanding disposition. The suit and tie he wore made him seem even more severe and intimidating. The brisk, piercing glare he gave me sent a raw chill through my body. I looked away, terror-stricken.

Slowly shifting his calculating gaze to Aaron, the man narrowed his eyes in disgust. Aaron, on the other hand, widened his cobalt ones as if he recognized this man.

"Byer!" Aaron spat, bitterly. "You're behind this?"

The man, now named Byer, glowered menacingly and replied in an even tone.

"When you escaped Alaska with nothing but the clothes on your back and a rifle, I thought you would be easy to erase off the grid, permanently."

Byer leaned toward Aaron with nothing but loathing on his firm face and continued icily.

"When you appeared at the lab to snoop around, the agents I sent after you seemed to be thwarted at every turn. But then, you decided to take a little trip to Manila and we almost had you within our grasp. But yet again, you eluded us."

He paused as if to take measure of the situation and then pressed on with relentless repulsion.

"Another loose agent after the disaster with Treadstone. The wary public is already in an uproar. The Agency has been forced to take drastic measures-"

"Like murder?" Aaron interrupted, bitterly.

"It is necessary to guard the integrity of the Agency," Byer insisted, but Aaron cut him off with a biting remark.

"At the cost of human lives? The very people you forged and designed into being, hunted down and exterminated?"

"You knew the risks, Cross!" Byer persisted adamantly, his tone rising. "You chose to accept this program! You agreed to do the testing!"

Aaron glared at him with disdain, something within his eyes stirred as if remembering something from long ago. The recollection vanished instantly as his fixed stare narrowed in anger.

"I told you once and I'll tell you again," Byer urged on, ignoring the venomous expression on Aaron's face. "Take the moral dimensions and principles of the human character and suppress it deep within ourselves."

Shaking his head slowly, Aaron's lips were pressed together so tightly in rage that it was almost white.

"No...no more," he replied with a stony steadiness that was almost dangerous. "You will never win."

Byer smiled for the first time since his entrance. The glee that flowed from his stern features was oddly out of place. With smug assurance, he approached Aaron so that they were only inches apart and said in an eerie voice.

"That, my friend, is where you are wrong."

Aaron looked at him, the cold expression on his gorgeous face still in tact. His sapphire eyes followed Byer as he turned around and slowly walked around the room as if his stare could burn a hole in his back.

"Ever since science discovered the advantages of genome targeting, we have initiated several programs and successfully produced results in particular participants. Outcome was just one of those programs. After systematically terminating most of the agents, you were the only one that was a thorn in my side."

Byer paused to stand behind me and I trembled, afraid at what he would do.

"So I began to search documents, anything relating to lab tests and discovered that Outcome agents had a weakness. Unlike the super-soldier LARX program, participants were highly prone to emotional responses. With this crucial piece of evidence, I concocted my next plan of action."

"What are you talking about?" Aaron demanded, impatiently.

"To monitor your whereabouts and ensure our control, I sent an agent after you. I had to keep the good doctor alive for specific reasons," Byer informed and Aaron's brow raised in surprise.

"Dr. Shearing?"

"Dr. Marta Shearing was gunned down at the manufacturing facility. She was nothing but a doctor...and a loose end." Byer's voice was strict and foreboding once again. The way he described the doctor's death was sadly frightening and devoid of compassion. Byer became silent as if using the quiet to his advantage, making the room even more tense than it really is. After several moments of this agonizing silence, he continued in a soft voice.

"No...the agent I sent was much more...convincing. I would like you to meet Outcome agent Number One."

I heard a click as Byer reached into his pocket and pulled out a retractable knife. With one sharp jerk, he cut my bonds and the plastic ties fell to the floor. Massaging my wrists, I felt the blood gush back into my hands giving me back feeling. Raising my eyes slowly, I peered at Aaron and saw shock plastered on his face. His blue eyes were wide with horror, his mouth hung open in startled realization as he gazed at me with a questioning expression.

"She has been most reliable. Without her to infiltrate your emotional weakness, you would have escaped. She has the same enhanced abilities as you, but her cognitive functions are levels much higher than yours," Byer commended as if describing a pet project he was most fond of.

"Violette?" Aaron whispered, his voice cracking. "Please tell me he's lying," he pleaded, miserable pain scarred across his beautiful features. His eyes never left my face as if seeking answers that he desperately needed.

"1120 12th Street in L.A." I said suddenly, not looking away from Aaron, but directing my statement at Byer. The tone that escaped my lips was hard, bitter, and so unlike me that Aaron widened his eyes in stunned silence. I knew he was used to the softness of my voice, the delicate nature of a woman who he thought led a normal life. Suddenly, the gentle demeanor was gone; the innocent, docile personality faded to reveal the real me: the years of military training, the bold commanding and independent personality that was carefully concealed, exposed like the decorated mask covering a stranger in a splendid masquerade ball.