Irina had felt it when it had triggered, that moment when what she had done, what she had made, reared its head and came well and truly into being. In the back of her mind she could feel the pull, the ever-present tension of another consciousness so intricately tied to her own, a heavy and constant weight, but with a deep breath and only a moment taken to gather and collect herself she was composed and steady once again.

Evan was, once again, looking in her direction. She kept her eyes forward, watching from the shadows of their concealment, wanting to see the scene that played out and take it all in. There would be a point when she would intervene, naturally, she wouldn't leave everything to chance and play games to the point of losing a valuable piece on her side of the board but after all the stress and difficulty that the seaQuest crew had caused she was more than keen to see the tables turned well and truly against them.

All things considered, it felt like justice.

Watching silently and stilly from the shadows out of sight and out of mind Irina felt the slow smile creep across her face.

What was taking so long? That question kept going around and around in Tony's head, with increasing impatience and a good deal of building uncertainty, as he stood close to Lucas and Dagwood in the thoroughly unfamiliar surroundings of an old factory that hadn't seen any real signs of life in God only knew how long. Every time the question resurfaced he found himself glancing around and then back at that doorway through which Henderson had disappeared more than— well, he actually didn't know how long it had been. But it felt like too long.

"What's goin' on in there?" His voice was hushed as he turned his head to Lucas, trying to sneak a glance at the screen of the computer the teenager held in his hands but the angle was wrong.

Lucas, on the other hand, had his eyes glued to the thing. "I don't know," he admitted, his own voice suitably lowered as well.

Behind them both Dagwood looked from one to the other, before making a low sound of unease and shifting his weight from one big foot to the other.

"The signal's still live," Lucas went on, "but it's not really moving too much."

Tony frowned, the furrow of his brow deep and unmistakable. "What's that mean?" As far as he could see it didn't mean much, except perhaps that Ortiz was hurt and couldn't really move on his own. Or maybe he was unconscious. But if either was the case then surely Henderson would have poked her head out and waved them in to give her a hand. It didn't make a whole lot of sense whichever way he looked at it.

"Wait." Lucas stood up a little straighter. He had been hunched over the computer a little. He lifted his gaze from the screen and turned it towards that little room in the middle of the big open floor space, an odd thing that looked so out of place. It looked almost like someone had dropped it down there by mistake, like it was supposed to go in another building altogether and no one had ever bothered to fix the mistake. "Oh my God." That time Lucas' voice was hushed not because of any real need for stealth but because of the shock that went on to dominate his entire expression.

Tony turned his head and immediately understood why.

Henderson was emerging from the room but she wasn't alone. Ortiz was with her, something that by all rights should have been a good sign, but the manner in which they were exiting the room was anything but reassuring. Henderson was being held back against Ortiz, one of his arms wrapped tightly around her and holding her there. One of her arms was pinned up against her, rendering the hand useless. Her other was clutching Ortiz's arm, obviously wanting to fight the grip he had on her but there was something very obvious and very dangerous stopping her from struggling.

Ortiz had a knife to her throat.

Dagwood made another low animal sound, like a deep whine. Tony heard him shifting his weight again, completely thrown and confused by the unexpected turn of events.

He wasn't the only one.

"Hey, Miguel," Tony heard himself say, his mouth opening and the words coming out before he had even realised he had anything to say. They were supposed to be keeping the noise to a bare minimum but none of them had anticipated a twist like this. So, orders be damned. It was time to wing it. "What's goin' on over there, buddy?"

The look in the other man's eyes when they turned his way made Tony reconsider moving any closer. It was a hard look, stony and unwavering. It reminded him more than a little of the way Ortiz had looked at him when he'd been stung by that ancient helmet. This was different though, he knew. It had to be. They weren't dealing with curses or anything so bizarre this time. Were they?

God only knew. Or maybe He didn't have a clue either.

Tony only knew that this was a dangerous situation and Ortiz really wasn't himself. In the time that Tony had known him he had come to associate Ortiz with anything but aggression, which was the only thing he could see on the other man's face in that moment. It looked out of place, ill-fitting, something that really didn't belong. Under his breath he found himself asking, "Are we sure that's really him?"

Lucas gave his head a small shake. "The signal's coming from him, all right." He had dared to drop his eyes just briefly to the screen in his hand. "That's Ortiz."

Damn. That wasn't the answer Tony had been hoping for.

"Take it easy, Ortiz."

The Sensor Chief turned that hard and uncompromising gaze in Lucas' direction when the teenager spoke and tightened his grip on Henderson. She gave the smallest gasp, obviously afraid to move more than the absolute bare minimum. "Drop your weapons," Ortiz said, turning his attention back to Tony primarily.

That fear on Henderson's face was a pretty powerful motivator. "Okay. Okay, no problem." What else could he do? Brody hadn't briefed them on what to do if anything like this happened, though Tony was fairly sure none of them could have seen this coming from more than a million miles away. So he raised his free hand, keeping it in plain view as he lowered himself in a crouch and set the gun on the ground. Without even waiting to be instructed as such he used the toe of his boot to give the gun a firm shove, sliding it across the ground away from him.

Ortiz looked satisfied by that, but only briefly. He turned his gaze back to Lucas. "That too," he said sharply, obviously meaning the handheld computer.

For just a moment the teenager hesitated and Tony noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that the kid had been trying to use it while it was lowered from his field of vision. Pretty sneaky, and commendable even, brave and a little reckless too given the circumstances. But ultimately futile, given Ortiz's newest command. After that moment of hesitation Lucas let out a sigh and did much the same with the computer as Tony had with his gun. It looked like it actually pained him to nudge it with his foot, cringing at the way the casing scraped against the concrete of the floor.

"Okay," Tony said slowly, swallowing against the sudden dryness in his throat. "Now what?"

That was a pretty good question, Lucas thought. Now what? It had been going through his head even before his friend had spoken the words out loud and even now that they were out there in the open between them, hanging heavy and almost foreboding, like storm clouds waiting to break, it was still going around and around without any signs of slowing down.

With his computer on the ground he couldn't hope to do anything about the device that was being used to exert greater, easier control over Ortiz, something that was obviously right up there at the top of their list of problems. If he could just interrupt the signal, even if only for a minute, then Henderson would be able to get out of the other man's grip at the very least. That would eliminate one problem. But Ortiz, or this version of him at least, had been smart enough to anticipate something like that, and now his computer was on the floor and a good three feet away, well and truly out of reach of anything he might have been able to do to help.

Frustration bloomed and he clenched his jaw, annoyed by his helplessness. It was a feeling shared by his roommate, he could tell, and though Dagwood didn't really feel such things himself he had to be feeling at a loss, at least. Lucas couldn't be sure without turning his head to check but then he realised Dagwood was no longer all the way behind him. He was more beside him now, having inched closer and more towards the front of their little group. How someone so large had done something like that without being noticed was thoroughly beyond Lucas.

Was there any way to contact Brody and alert him to what was happening?

No, probably not.

Wait.

It hit Lucas with the force of a speeding train and he almost chastised himself out loud for not thinking of it sooner. How could he have forgotten something so simple?

Doctor Smith?

He kept his expression from shifting as best as he was able to while he concentrated on sending out that call. As knowledgeable and skilled as he was with just about all things electronic, when it came to matters of the mind like telepathy he was about as ignorant as they came. All he knew was what he had been told or what he had read and a good portion of the latter was hearsay and speculation anyway. He knew that it was powerful, potentially dangerous, and right then he also knew that it might be the only thing that could help them.

Doctor Smith? Doctor, it's Lucas, please answer me.

Despite the need for silence and discretion she couldn't help the gasp that tripped past her lips as that voice resonated through her mind. She knew it instantly, seizing on to it and keeping a tight hold, and in doing so establishing a connection between them. It was one that the teenager wouldn't really be aware of himself but it reassured her at least, knowing that she was tied to him in that small way.

"Wendy?" Nathan had heard her gasp. Of course he had.

"It's Lucas," she whispered back. "Something's wrong."

"What is it?"

Even as the Captain asked that Lieutenant Brody was adopting a defensive posture, his weapon raised and levelled without so much as a waver or a tremor, his eyes scanning their surroundings even more keenly than before.

Her response for Nathan was little more than a brief fluttering of her fingers as she raised her hand. She didn't know yet, the motion was meant to say; just wait. Lucas? I'm here.

"Oh thank God."

What is it, Lucas? What's wrong? She could feel his panic, a low simmer already threatening to come to a boil.

"It's Ortiz." She waited for him to go on, her silence cue enough for Lucas to do just that. "Something's wrong. He's holding Henderson hostage."

"What?" She hadn't meant to say that out loud, the shock disrupting her concentration enough for her to speak it verbally instead of just mentally. The men with her turned their eyes her way and she had no choice but to repeat Lucas' message to them, word for word.

"What the hell?" Brody's disbelief was obvious even before he spoke and he threw a questioning, confused look to the Captain over her shoulder. Wendy could feel the same feelings that were radiating from the Lieutenant coming from Nathan as well. Neither one of them could believe it, and she could hardly blame them.

Concentrating again she returned to her connection with Lucas. Can you speak to him? Try to get through to him, maybe?

"We've tried. He's not himself." Lucas was at a loss. More than that he was frightened, even if he was hiding it from the others. Of that much she had no doubt. He wouldn't want anyone who could see him to know that he was rattled in any way, even if he could hardly be blamed for feeling such a thing. Fear was a perfectly natural response, a healthy and rational thing to feel actually, and Wendy would never shame or think less of anyone for feeling it. But she understood, as well. Allowing others to see your fear, that weakness, was never easy. Just as fear was a perfectly natural thing to feel it was also perfectly natural, instinctive even, to want to hide it from those who might use it against you.

Was that what she had felt on the launch? Whatever had happened to Ortiz, whatever had been done to him, had that been that awful feeling that had all but overwhelmed her upon their approach?

Not knowing was almost worse than the prospect itself.

Once again, just as she had upon their entering the building, she reached out as far as she could to try and find another mind not unlike her own. And once again, just as when they had entered, she got very little in return. She knew that didn't mean anything, of course, she couldn't make any assumptions or offer any guarantees either way, especially not given their previous experiences with the woman they were facing, someone who had been able to thoroughly shield her presence even as she deftly manipulated the mind of one of their own from countless miles away.

The power of this woman was staggering, unlike anything Wendy had ever seen or even read about. She had never believed that such raw psychic strength was possible and yet here she was, this Irina Dvornikov, shattering all of those beliefs and certainties as if they were little more than sugar glass. It was unsettling to say the least, ground-breaking in a way that was completely and utterly alarming, not to mention unwelcome. It was frightening.

Keep trying, Lucas, she told the young man on the other end of the connection, trying to offer him comfort along that tethering line, hoping that she could give him at least a small measure of reassurance and stability. Just keep trying. Don't give up. She glanced to the men with her. We're on our way.

Now that this situation had arisen surely that had to be their priority, getting to the others and helping them, Henderson especially. As she thought of the other woman in what had to be an utterly terrifying situation, one none of them could have seen coming, she did her best to put her connection to Lucas to one side, as carefully and neatly as she could, in order to make mental room for another contact.

Her head was already starting to ache. This had never been her strong suit, speaking to other minds. But she had to try.

Lonnie? She felt a flicker of fear, confusion, uncertainty. Like a tiny light in a field of black, little more than a flicker. Wendy did her best to seize it. Lonnie, it's me. It's Wendy. Stay calm.

Just stay calm.

It was all she could do not to start, abruptly and violently, in Miguel's grasp. The faintest brush of the knife's edge against the skin of her throat was enough warning to keep her still, practically rooted to the spot, barely even daring to breathe.

Lonnie felt a wave of shame wash over her as her eyes began to sting with unshed tears.

Stay calm, the voice had said. Just stay calm.

She didn't know how to respond, how to reach back for the voice that had reached for her, one she knew well even if not in the way it had come to her in that moment. She had never tried before, had never even had any sort of contact with a psychic before her assignment to seaQuest, at least not to her knowledge. Wendy was the first telepath she had met and she had been cautious at first, hopefully understandably so, but in a fairly short amount of time she had grown comfortable enough with the other woman that she actually frequently forgot Doctor Smith had any abilities at all.

It's okay, Lonnie. We're coming. Wendy's voice was soft and steady in her mind, like cool water passing over a stinging burn, and it was impossible not to draw at least a little comfort from that sense of familiarity. Just stay calm. We'll be there soon. It's going to be all right.

But was it? She didn't know how it could be, with Miguel's arm wrapped tightly, threateningly, around her and with that knife pressed to her throat, held by his hand. He had seemed like himself, like Miguel, the man she had met and gotten to know and developed more than a passing interest in over the months that they had been serving side by side on the UEO's flagship. He had seemed fine, or at least as fine as anyone who had been through the things he had could be.

But he wasn't fine. And neither was she. None of this was fine.

Just stay calm.

It was like the buzzing of insects, irritating and difficult to ignore altogether even as she tried to tune it out. Briefly she closed her eyes, standing perfectly still save for the steady rise of her chest as she drew in a slow, deep breath.

Evan was watching her. Again. Still.

Out there, she told him firmly, annoyed that she had needed to remind him of what should have been his top priority in that moment. He shouldn't have been focusing on her right then, not when there were enemies in their midst. Seven of them. Irina could sense that much. And the laughably inadequate Doctor Smith was one of them. That much she could pick out easily enough as well.

If she hadn't exerted herself as much as she had so recently she would have been able to discern more, she would have had more influence and sway over what happened next, but there was nothing to be done for it now. The deed had been done because it had been a necessity in the face of what seaQuest had seen fit to send her way and there was no turning back now. She would gather her strength and push through, just as she always did.

And besides, she had the ultimate ace up her sleeve. No longer up her sleeve now, perhaps, but it had thrown their little group into enough chaos and confusion that it was a definite advantage, and one that she fully intended to utilise.

Opening her eyes she watched as the second group of intruders, those who had seen fit to enter from another side of the building, began to cross towards the first, those who had walked headlong into the open jaws of her perfectly laid trap.

Irina couldn't help but smile.

She was going to enjoy this.