Chapter Fourteen

She was hoping.

Hoping with her hands clasped so tightly that everything she had seen would be just a dream. That she would wake up to a smiling face of her boyfriend, a boyfriend that could understand that what she needed could just about save herself from getting killed by whoever wanted her killed. She also then realized that John could potentially lose his job for betrayal, a loss that would tattoo itself on his conscience for the rest of her career. Clara didn't want to be the reason for it.

In honesty, she couldn't think. She couldn't think about anything else that could possibly get her out of this situation. As if her brain was now eroding away to the point in which no knowledge was left to comprehend. And it made her so mad. So frustrated. But most of all, so lost.

"John? It's Clara. I have to tell you something. Call me when you get this."

"John. Clara again. It's kind of important. Please call."

"Clara here. John, I'm so sorry. You're probably really busy but...call me."

"John. It's me. Call, please."

"Clara? Hi, it's John! Sorry I couldn't call you back the first four times you called, I was stuck at a meeting. But guess what? We managed to hack into the system that Simeon uses. Remember him? The guy that...well, never mind. Text me when you can come to my office so I can show you; it's really cool! Okay, bye. Love you."

"Answer you phone when I call you next time, please." was the first thing she said when she closed the door to his office. John looked up from his computer, eyes bloodshot yet smile genuinely crazed, and took of his glasses, perching them atop of a stack of books he never read. "My god John, have you slept at all last night?"

"The meeting started last night, we got out at two in the morning." he replied with a shaky laugh, and she couldn't hear his voice in it anymore. It was croaked, wretched, tired, and in need of some water. Clara wasn't sure whether to feel scared or not, for the man before her seemed entirely insane. "Well, don't just stand there, come here! I need to show you all the work we've done last night; I believe its really paid off." John said, beckoning her over. Clara started making her way behind his desk with ease, her intentions clear in her mind. "So this is what we call a private web link, it's what all of Simeon's colleagues use to upload stolen files onto." he explained, and Clara couldn't help but find those words familiar. Taking out her phone, she opened her email to find the message that she had received last night. Clicking the link, she was relocated to a sign-in page.

"Did you uh, did you find the password to the site?" Clara asked uneasily, shifting her weight from left to right repeatedly.

"Yeah." John replied, nodding his head. "Why?"

"Do you happen to remember what it was?"

"Yeah, sure. I believe it was...greatintelligencegreatintelligence1011."

As Clara typed it in, she couldn't help but sense that there was more than just one pattern to the password. As if she could immediately detect where it came from. Great Intelligence, Great Intelligence...the words repeated in her head thousands of times, as if they were all connected to her thoughts some how. Great Intelligence, Great Intelligence...G...I...G...I. Clara froze. She didn't know where the possibility came from, but suddenly it all clicked into place. Why they wanted the files on Kizlet and the rest of them. Kizlet was the only one not caught that night, the night of October the eleventh...

October the eleventh. Ten eleven. 10 11.

They were zoned in on Clara, as if they had incredible aim at her head at all times and she had only realized now. She immediately turned off her phone and stuffed it back into her bag, running her hands madly through her hair, panting as if somebody were choking her. John stared at her dubiously, for it was her turn to look insane. "Clara? You okay?"

"...they're coming for me." She muttered, pacing back and forth the room. "They're coming for me and I can do nothing. They're coming, oh god they're coming..."

"Clara!" John exclaimed, getting up from his chair to hold her in place. "Who...who's coming?"

"They are. Simeon. Everyone. They're coming for me and I'm going to die and I can do nothing about it." she chanted like an ancient hymn as she started to shake. John, however, was entirely bewildered by her words. "Clara, calm down, what the hell do you mean?"

"They've been stalking me. They're following me. Trying to get information from TARDIS and I can't give it to them John, I can't!" she was properly crying by then, the man holding her trying to offer the poor woman a hug, but she only shook out of his grasp. "Messages from places and people I don't even know!" she sounded crazed and confused, as if she were running through a maze with no escape. John allowed her to sit on the floor, for he was trying to comfort her in any way that he could with such little he knew. Holding her head between her hands, she could no longer hold anything in. It was driving her mad. "They know where I live, John. They know my email. Hell, they're probably watching me cry right now!" she exclaimed, and all she said was true. They were probably laughing at her weakness.

"Clara," John said, crouching down to meet her eye level. "Darling, I want to do anything that I can to help, please let me. I know you will, but, I need to know everything that you know, when this started, and how it happened." he licked his lips nervously. "Could you do that for me?" Clara sniffled, and then nodded her head. She was willing to cooperate, to let him listen. He could fix everything. Allowing John to help her lift herself off of the floor, he escorted her to his desk chair, where she tried to sit back and breathe normally. She was going to tell, she was going to let it all out.

But just as she was about to speak, a light caught her eye. The light from John's computer. The light from a camera. The webcam was on when she knew it wasn't supposed to be.

Someone's watching us.

And then she slammed it closed.