Chapter 8

Playing Dead

A/N

This is, of course, chapter 7, but because of the way FF does story documents, the interlude is counted as ch.7. Oh well, we'll live.

Can't say I'm super happy with the dialogue, or the rest of the writing really. That's what I get for writing an eleven-page chapter in one week, I guess.

I

May 24, 2010

Doctors Melinsky and Ross watched Shaw and other Ring agents cuff Chuck and escort him out of their base.

The two doctors were left behind to dispose of Stephen Bartowski's body. A furtive glance by one, met by the other; a sly smile; that was all they needed to establish telepathically that they would do no such thing.

Melinsky pulled out her ring phone and pressed a series of buttons. After an audible whir in the building, she announced: "communications are disabled." Without another word, the pair hoisted Orion's body and carried it to the same O.R. Melinsky and another partner of hers had used to save Shaw's life months before.

Within twenty minutes, they had Stephen hooked up to a heart-and-lung machine: his heart had been destroyed, punctured by one of Shaw's bullets, but the aorta and vena cava remained intact. They still needed to clean up the chest cavity, but they could do that later: as long as Stephen was no longer bleeding, they knew they could save him.

"Applying the catalyst…" Melinsky muttered as she injected a vial of black liquid into the patient's carotid artery. "Good. It should immediately begin regenerating the patient's damaged and dead cells. I'd say about… five minutes until he wakes up."

"Doctor," Melinsky's inexperienced partner interjected, "if I may ask: how effective is this new technology? I mean, could it… could it revive anyone?"

Melinsky shook her head. "There are two key limitations: for one, the body itself must not degrade too severely – so far, it seems somewhere between sixty- and ninety-minutes deceased is the limit, depending on the person. For two, the cell structure of any organ you wish to preserve must remain intact, which basically means headshots or extreme mutilations are pretty much not salvageable.

"This patient, for example: we've already pretty much saved him, but in order to get him out of this room, he's going to need a new heart. Where do you suppose we might get one?"

Ross thought for a while, then had a brilliant idea: "We could take one from one of the prisoners! What about…" he pulled out and scrolled through a menu in his Ring phone. "Ooh, what about Jill Roberts?"

Melinsky chuckled. "That would be quite funny: Kowambe's partner, one of the chief developers of this very technology, harvested for organs to save her ex-boyfriend's daddy.

"No," she sighed after a pause, "it wouldn't work: the patient needs someone more his size. Jill's heart is too small to effectively pump blood through his body."

"Okay, well, we have plenty of other prisoners to choose from. What about…"

"Hmm," Melinsky interjected, shaking her head, "time is of the essence. I have a better idea: Do you remember, Ross, when you told me you'd do anything you could to assist my research?" In a single motion, Melinsky pulled out her service weapon and fired a bullet through Ross's head.

"Hnnnnnh" groaned the patient. Melinsky looked over and saw Orion slowly moving his head, grimacing as he drifted into consciousness.

"Oh, hey there! You must be in a ton of pain, huh?"

Stephen's growls grew louder.

"Here," Melinsky replied, picking up a long needle, "this will put you back to sleep." She injected her patient, who instantly grew limp.

"Alrighty then," she sighed, surveying the room. "Another solo heart transplant, eh? Well, better get started."

II

Present Time

Beckman's voice trembled. "How are you alive?" she managed to ask.

Betelgeuse shrugged. "How is… how is Daniel Shaw still alive? Same tech, I guess."

"But… but where's Chuck?"

Stephen managed to control his tics as he took on a determined countenance. "You will never see Chuck, or any other Intersect candidate, again. Speaking of which, I presume you expect me to help you remove Julia's anti-intersect programming, eh? Well, think again."

Beckman's initial look of shock morphed into amusement as she chuckled out her retort. "I know Julia's operational; why else would you race over here? I also know about your little pen trick, about the explosive in your pocket – I presume, therefore, that you figured out Julia's not actually your granddaughter? – and about how you're planning to kill her as a last stand." Robin's eyes lit up fiercely at this point. "The only thing I got wrong was your identity; I'll admit that was a pretty clever trick, but it means nothing now."

Betelgeuse stewed at this affront: the way his ingenious, intricate planning was picked apart as if it were nothing more than the crudely drummed-up machinations of some twenty-something novice was—

Wait…

"Y – you knew… you KNEW about Julia…" Betelgeuse felt violent rage well up inside him. "You did it, didn't you? You TOOK HER FROM ME, didn't you?!"

Betelgeuse flung himself at the object of his malice. Beckman reached for her service weapon. Robin stepped in-between the two.

"Whoa, hey! Calm down!" Betelgeuse, fist drawn back, and Beckman, gun out, froze. "I don't know what the hell is going on, but I'm certain nothing good can come out of either of you getting killed!" Or a broken hip, she thought, but didn't dare say that aloud to her septuagenarian superior.

"She's right," Beckman sighed. Both parties relaxed. "I understand you're upset," (Stephen scoffed at the understatement), "but if you give me a moment to explain, I'm sure you can at least agree to cooperate for the moment.

"First, however, you need to actually understand what's going on. I don't know what Chuck's told you, but are you aware that twenty years ago, the CIA allied with a malicious group called the Guardians?"

"Chuck… Chuck told me very little of his 'project', but that sounds pretty typical of your ilk," Betelgeuse snarked back.

"It wasn't my choice; I warned the Deputy Director not to but… look it doesn't matter. We used them as a means to secretly fund additional development of our project after Congress refused to give us any more money. We tried to keep them at arm's length, but obviously, we failed miserably. Now they're in control. They're the ones driving the project.

"They want to use it for subversion; to control the minds of everyone they can get to download the Intersect. They want to use it to take over the world.

"Fortunately, I've managed to turn their leader, Chairman Martin Shaw. He—"

"Wait… the Martin Shaw? President Martin Shaw? Brother of – brother of terrorist Daniel?!"

"Try to keep u—"

"How did he even become President, anyway? His ties to his brother were all over the news!"

"Well," Beckman started, getting distracted by the affront toward her significant other, "when you're a candidate for the Presidency, and you marry someone of ill repute, people start questioning your own values."

"Oh please, as if anyone really cared about a president's ethics? You know as well as I that the only reason Senator Jemmeson lost was because she was a woman."

Beckman scoffed. "A Bartowski lecturing me on sexism, how rich."

"Just because you—"

"HEY?!" Robin intervened again. "Is this really the time for a political argument?"

The elderly spies reconstituted themselves. After a deep breath, Beckman continued. "As I was saying, I turned Martin years ago. But since then, we've been unable to take the group down. Other Guardians grew distrustful; they've moved their central base to an external site without informing their own Chairman. At this stage, he's barely more than a figurehead. That's why I need your help.

"We believe their base of operation is the same location in which they store the physical Intersect datastore. They can upload their Intersect to anywhere, but the actual data lives in a centralized server room whose location we have been unable to attain."

"But…" Stephen interjected, "but what about replication, I – I mean, no one in their right mind would set up a database without replicating the data somewhere offsite, in case of a node failure or worse."

Beckman shook her head. "The Intersect is easy to rebuild: the Guardians have plenty of replica Cubes, Ciphers, et cetera; all they'd need to do is reassemble and re-stream government datastores through their machine. It takes time, but they found it cheaper and more secure."

Betelgeuse was suspicious of such a glaring flaw, but let Beckman continue.

"No one but the Chairman and I – and," Beckman nodded at Robin, "I guess you now, too – know Julia's operational, or that our network has been compromised. We can use this. Mar – President Shaw and I have agreed to scuttle our own Intersect plans, in favor of taking the Guardians down. Stephen, we need you to convince them that you need to modify the central database itself to get the Intersect into Julia's head. We can probably convince them that you're not a viable candidate given your age, and no one person in their organization knows as much about the technology as you.

"We'll use the pen;" she handed Betelgeuse's pen back to him. "If you just keep it on you, the moment you enter their base, we'll take control of their network. From there, we can find and seal off their exits.

"The only thing they haven't protected themselves against is a physical airstrike: decades in control breeds this kind of complacency, but they haven't infiltrated our Armed Forces."

"So," Betelgeuse interjected, "you – you really expect an entire covert organization to centralize themselves in one location like that? D – during the holidays, no less?"

"Of course not; however, in addition to simply taking out a number of agents, we should manage to eliminate a large cache of their resources, crippling their ability to function. Furthermore, an airstrike on U.S. soil is drastic: the President will make a speech, during which he will out the conspirators; we hope to procure a list of all active Guardian agents during our intrusion into their network, from which we should be able to swiftly freeze assets of, capture, and eliminate remaining members.

"Speaking of the airstrike: We'll have loyal agents close by, but we cannot promise you'll make it out of there alive. Can you accept that?"

"Th – three questions," Betelgeuse answered. "First, do you really expect them… expect them to lead me to their base? A place they've hidden from their own Chairman, a – a place where they're supposedly most vulnerable?"

Beckman anticipated that question. "You and Julia will be going in alone, heavily guarded by some of the worst, most wretched beings I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. Those people, however – they're desperate. Twenty years and they finally have the means to progress through their research? They'll take the bait, I'm sure of it."

"Second question: what if we fail?"

Beckman smirked: "Do you doubt your own technology?"

"Of course not, but, but there are other factors: what if they export Julia and the Intersect before we can strike? What if they don't let us in after all? What if—"

"They have no reason to suspect you, so long as you make up a coherent lie. But if they still don't let you in, I'm afraid that's the end for all of us.

"As long as you get in there, we should be able to take them out. Hand me the explosive in your breast pocket." Betelgeuse complied. "Robin," Beckman turned, "give this to Julia. It's an old model, plastic shell, minimal electronics… Julia should be able to get this in undetected.

"If all else fails, instruct her to use it on the machine. It's desperate, but she should be able to comprehend the importance."

Robin nodded, hoping desperately that this situation would be avoided.

Betelgeuse, however, protested: "I, I thought you just said they could simply rebuild the the machine?"

Beckman sighed. Betelgeuse saw in her eyes what her real intent was, but to placate Robin, she added: "The blast… it's desperate, but maybe it can take out their replicas. At the very least, it should buy us some time to regroup – if they don't take us down first, that is."

"Third question," Betelgeuse responded, "why on earth should I trust you?"

A faint smile grew on Beckman's face. "Robin, would you mind giving us a moment to chat privately?"

Robin was skeptical they'd survive without her, but complied. She exited the warehouse and waited until they called her back in.

"When the fallout happened," Beckman resumed, "when M—when Chuck left, I made a promise to myself. To atone for my mistakes, to… to try to make up for what I did to Chuck, I resolved to protect him and his family as much as I could. And… while you've managed to bring most of that family underground, I've managed one thing you couldn't."

Betelgeuse's mind raced.

"Tell me, Orion," the tone Beckman used suggested she was clearly proud of her deception. "Where is your granddaughter?"

Betelgeuse's eyes widened. "You didn't…" he growled.

"No one knows her lineage. No one needs to, and no one ever will – except for us. Robin will never consume an Intersect.

"Speaking of her," Beckman grew hesitant, her voice weakened. "You can't… you can't tell her the truth about this… or what I tried to do to Julia. I'm sure you know about that…. If she realizes that the government lied to her, or that one of its top leaders tried to kill an innocent person… she's very naïve, you know? We can't risk losing that loyalty. We need all the allies we can get."

Betelgeuse remembered the attempt on Julia's life; just another reason why he loathed Beckman so much… but he had to admit, she was right.

As the sun rose over the decrepit warehouse, Beckman extended a hand. Stephen begrudgingly shook.

III

"Agent Beckman," Chairman Shaw boomed from his dais at the center of the Guardians' panel, "you've done well, bringing Betelgeuse before us. While we would have preferred Charles, having Stephen before our eyes is, in my opinion, quite an amusing surprise."

"Thank you, Chairman, Directors, and Vice Directors," Beckman replied, standing right as she stood in her last meeting, but with Robin on her left and Stephen to her right (in handcuffs, naturally).

"We have agreed to forgive your delay in procuring an Intersect candidate, as well as your deception with Agent Miller. Using her to lure Betelgeuse to us was, we must admit, a brilliant gambit.

"As for you, Mister Bartowski: you're too old and weak to be the subject of our trials, but we'll make you a deal: if you can undo whatever you did to make Julia reject the Intersect, we'll consider letting you live."

Betelgeuse knew the proposal was bogus, but gave it no mind. "I – I can fix Julia, but I'd have to, have to modify the Intersect hardware to do it. The software in Julia's brain, it – it acts on only Intersect intel by… it it it has to differentiate Intersect intel from normal human memory. Wh – what that means is, I need to change certain things about the the Intersect's internal structure to bypass that pattern recognition."

The panel huddled, whispering.

Finally, Shaw turned back to the guests and asked. "And how, exactly, does this 'pattern recognition' work?"

"With all due respect, Chairman, why on earth would I tell you that?"

Mumbles rumbled across the podium at this disrespectful response. Chairman Shaw put his hand up to quell his colleagues.

"You you you know enough to, to construct the Intersect yourself; if I – if I tell you how this pattern recognition works, you wouldn't need me."

Despite the shadowed figure, the guests at the foot of the podium felt a smile crawl across Shaw's face.

"Y – you need me to fix Julia. These are my terms."

The panelists huddled for another moment, clearly suspicious. Finally, Shaw re-addressed the guests. "Alright, we will accept your terms. Tomorrow morning, you will be escorted, heavily guarded, to the Intersect database to begin your work. However, to ensure your compliance, Miss Howard will accompany you.

"We've read your file. More than anything else, you're loyal to your family. Which makes it easy to say, if you do anything to compromise the machine or otherwise interfere with our experiment, we will make you watch as we slowly and brutally murder your granddaughter.

"Understood?"

Robin got chills from this threat. Stephen was less concerned – after all, she wasn't actually his granddaughter – but tried to appear as if the threat terrified him.

"Agent Miller," Shaw continued, "we need you to convince Miss Howard to cooperate. I'll admit, we miscalculated with our… aggressive approach we took earlier. I trust you're aware of the incident in the Intersect room after you left: one of our agents tried to kill Miss Howard and it's left her… 'hostile' is probably the best word. Junior Agent Beckman can show you the footage." Beckman grew wary of this suggestion, praying that her end of the phone call wasn't picked up in the recording.

"We could tranq her and continue our experiments with her in a straitjacket, but we understand the best subject to be one who's calm of mind.

"Spend the afternoon with Julia. Butter her up; convince her that her cooperation is in the best interest of our country. Or, whatever, we don't really care how you do it. Just get it done.

"Oh, by the way, welcome to the Guardians, Agent Miller."

IV

Robin lightly rapped at Julia's hospital room door, then entered without waiting for a response. She found her asset sitting up on her bed, with blank eyes and a scowl, leg still elevated, arms still shackled.

"Hey," Robin faintly whispered, trying to keep a gentle voice toward the irate captive.

Julia didn't move.

Robin slowly walked up and sat in the chair Beckman had occupied the night before.

"So… I guess I broke my promise." Robin's voice was fragile. "I saw the… the Director showed me the footage of what happened after I left. We…" Robin choked up, "we have some really fucked up people in the CIA."

Though Julia was suspicious, Robin's reaction was real. She hadn't understood the horror of what Julia experienced until she saw the struggle on tape. The way Agent Ling laughed and danced as Julia bled out….

But then when Julia turned the tables… Robin's asset truly impressed her.

"Why…" Julia finally spoke. "Why are you still pretending to care about me?"

"You're my asset; it's my job to—"

"No," Julia's voice rose, "it was your job to kidnap me, take me three thousand miles away from home, get me shot, and throw me into some wild conspiracy that will almost certainly end up killing me. So congratulations, you've achieved your goal! You can leave now."

The outburst struck a nerve: Robin did feel responsible for Julia's near-death experience. Her voice grew wispy and glum. "It's, uhh… it's not that simple." She thought for a while. How much can I say?

Finally, Robin made her decision. She got up, lifted chair (causing Julia to flinch), carried it over, and use it to smack the security camera off the wall. She proceeded to smash it with her foot a couple times for good measure, then returned herself and her chair to its prior position. Julia watched this spectacle with cautious amusement.

"Alright," Robin started, parting her ruffled hair, "here's everything I know: There's a group called the Guardians within the CIA. They're… really bad people – like a ton of 'Agent Ling's or something. They want to use the Intersect to essentially control everyone's minds. Pretty messed-up stuff. But they can't do it yet, because only a few people can handle the computer. That's why they wanted you, so they could use you to figure out how to modify the machine for other people, like me.

"Director Beckman's been working undercover for—"

"Wait, no no no," Julia nodded her head. "Beckman tried to kill me. I'm not following any bullshit story you make up to try and redeem her."

Robin sighed and returned a sympathetic voice. "I – I know what Agent Ling told you, but I talked with the Director after watching the footage; her orders were to attempt to get you to flash using a separate piece of intel. Sure, I might not have audio of the call, but I have faith in the Director, especially after what I've seen from her today. And, I mean, just think about it: if the Director wanted you dead, why didn't she just have Guardian Agent Gordon kill you in Waukon?

"The most logical explanation, in my opinion, is that Agent Ling wanted to get a rise out of you. I mean… clearly she thrived on…." Robin couldn't think about the scene any further.

"Look," she regrouped, "you deserve to know what's going on, and I'm just trying to relay what I know. It's a really messed-up situation, but, circling back: Beckman's been undercover for the Guardians for a long time. Apparently the President is, too."

"The President?"

"Yeah I know, it's pretty freaking weird. Anyway, they're planning to take down the Guardians tomorrow. Essentially, I guess they have some secret base that you and Betelgeuse are going to; the Director's going to use Betelgeuse to figure out where this base is, and then she's going to call in an airstrike.

"I won't lie: There's a chance you won't make it out of there. But… like everything else this past week, I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice.

"But I'll be close behind: The Director's assembling a group of loyal undercover agents to extract you before the strike, and I intend to be among them. You're my asset: my mission is to protect you; that hasn't changed, in spite of everything else.

"That said… if we fail, the consequences will be quite dire. We can't let this experiment continue. That's why I need to ask something pretty drastic of you." She pulled out the explosive Beckman gave her earlier that day. "This is… essentially just a bomb. It sticks magnetically, and you just turn it clockwise to activate. If things go sideways… we need you to use this on their machine. It might kill you too, but you have to understand… the alternative is infinitely worse.

"Tomorrow, all we need from you is to cooperate with the Guardians. Resigned cooperation, I guess – we don't want them suspicious of us. Hopefully… maybe… we can have this all sorted out before the day ends.

"That's all I have to say. Do you have any questions?"

Julia's mind was blank. Everything thrown at her… could she really trust Robin? Or the Director? She needed time to think, so she shook her head.

"Alright," Robin said. She slipped the explosive device in Robin's right jeans pocket, and stood up. "I'm gonna head back to my apartment for the first time in ages and try to relax. Sorry we can't put you up in anything better than this.

"Good luck tomorrow. I'm… I'm sorry again for, well, everything I guess."

With that, Robin left Julia to think.

V

Betelgeuse's quarters made Julia's look like a penthouse: he sat, arms and legs shackled, on a flat, thin mattress, inside a forty-square-foot prison cell under the Langley building. Two heavy, hostile guards stood in front of the door. The only light in the room came from a small window in the door, outside of which cold fluorescent lamps shone. The dingy room smelled of mold, probably emanating from the grimy toilet-sink that sat a foot away from the bed.

Betelgeuse spent the night thinking about his family. He wondered about Chuck, Mary, Ellie, Devon… about whether they would stay safe without him. He wondered about Robin, what kind of life she had, whether Beckman protected her well, and whether she would be safe tomorrow. And he thought about what Shaw said earlier: More than anything else, you're loyal to your family. That took him back.

May 25, 2010, 5:21

Stephen found himself laying on a gurney, surrounded by hospital machines, in a dark building. A woman in a lab coat stared gleefully down at him.

"Wake up!" she cheered.

"Wh – what's going on?"

"I just gave you a new heart, silly!"

"A new… what? Wh – where am I?"

"Don't act so surprised; your old one was blown to pieces! How else would you be alive right now?"

"W – wait a minute…" Orion remembered. "I – I was shot! I was k – killed! How… how am I…." He stared down at his exposed, fully-healed chest. "What… what is going on?"

"New tech! Isn't it incredible? You don't even need immunosuppressants – the cells have already differentiated: it's your heart now!

"Of course, if you want to stay alive," the agent's smile turned sour as she pulled out her gun and pointed it at Stephen's head, "you're going to have to do what I say."

"What… what does the Ring want with me?"

"Oh, we're not with them!" She scoffed. "Well, we are but, let's just say we're going rogue. The Intersect fetches a hefty price on the black market, which brings me to why you're here: you're going to give me an Intersect, or I kill you and your entire family."

"…Wait, who's we?"

"Oh right, my apologies. I'm Agent Melinsky. My partner… well, his name was Ross, but…" she gestured to her right; Stephen turned his head to see the remains of the novice agent, head in pieces, chest unceremoniously split open. "Where else am I gonna get a heart around here?

"You should be thankful, really." She flashed another cheeky grin. "Now, back to this Intersect. You're going to come with me, and we're going to build one together."

"A – alright. But but first, I need… aaaaaargh," Orion writhed. Melinsky grew concerned. "S – sorry," he continued. "Sorry I – my Governor…" he raised his left arm to show the busted watch. "I – I need to replace it quickly… or – or else – aaAAACH!"

Melinsky tensed. Orion looked pained, but… "I know all about you: you're full of tricks, you are. I—" The heart monitor hooked up to Stephen's chest started blaring. His heart was arrhythmic. The Agent grew worried, but could do nothing but wait.

Eventually, the beeping stopped; Stephen calmed down. "That's… that's gonna keep happening… until – until I get… another Governor."

"A – alright, but… you're staying shackled. You don't move a muscle without my permission. Got it?"

Betelgeuse nodded.

"Now, where do we find one of these 'Governors'?"

May 25, 2010, 7:38

Agent Melinsky sat in her SUV outside Orion's cabin. Stephen sat next to her, excessively chained.

"We can do everything in there – get my Governor, build a new Intersect… it's all there."

Melinsky hesitated.

"You said you know all about me, right? Well then you know I don't kill for a living."

"That's right," Melinsky replied, deep in thought; "but you've pulled off some incredible tricks: Disappearing some agents, making others forget they ever saw you… you blew up a helicopter with no one inside to convince an entire agency you were dead! I have to admit, I'm impressed. That's why…" She pulled out her Ring phone. It wouldn't turn on. "Ah, what a surprise," she muttered dryly. "Looks like your pals took down the Ring after all.

"Idiots," she continued; "what kind of moron puts all their agency's leaders in the same room? Come to think of it, what kind of morons can't function without five people?

"Well, anyway…" she tossed her phone out the car window, reached to the glovebox, and pulled out a different machine. She turned it on and showed the screen to Stephen. It was a video feed, linked to a camera in some inconspicuous room. "Notice anyone familiar?"

Mary Bartowski was in frame. Orion was stunned. "How…"

"My cousin works for this crazy dude… I don't know him, but apparently your wife does, very well, in fact.

"So, back to the whole 'threat' part: If you don't build me a satisfactory Intersect, or if you try in any manner to escape, I'll speak with my cuz. I'll find your precious wife, and I'll gut her. Just for fun. If you're still alive, maybe I'll even let you watch. Oh, it'll be exquisitely painful."

With that, she exited the vehicle, walked to the passenger's side, and pulled the compliant Bartowski out. She shackled her left arm to his right, as an added security measure, and kept her gun trained on him with her free arm.

The cabin into which the pair entered looked exactly as it did the last time Stephen left. A giant monitor opposite the door was Stephen's focus.

"I presume that's where you'll find a Governor?"

Stephen nodded. "I r – recently built one for my son; decided to make some spares, just… just in case." Stephen pressed his palm on the table, and a drawer flicked open below him. Inside were three watches just like the one he'd worn. In spite of the shackles, he managed to put one on. Instantly, his head cleared, and a rush of relief flew through his body.

"Alright," Melinsky started, "now let's start working on that Intersect."

"One thing, first…" Orion stared at his fists, gripping the table hard. Melinsky braced at the possibility of dissent, and raised her gun to Stephen's head.

"Don't you try anything," Melinsky enunciated her words vigorously.

"You… you said you knew everything about me. S – so you know I… I would do anything for my family."

Melinsky pulled the trigger.

The gun clicked.

It was empty.

"How did you—"

"You made a grave error earlier." Stephen turned to face Melinsky, who clawed at her pockets for either a weapon to use against him or the key to the shackles currently binding her to him.

Stephen looked hard, and knew what he had to do. "You threatened my wife," he growled as he picked up a pen with his left hand, swung it over, and slit Melinsky's throat with the sharp nib.

He breathed heavily, watching with a strange mix of satisfaction and horror as Melinsky collapsed and bled out onto the floor. His first real, deliberate kill.

When the woman stopped writhing, he fished for her keys, un-shackled himself, and began cleaning up the mess. He couldn't risk anyone finding a dead body in here, after all.

May 25, 2010, 19:55

Stephen rested in a clearing atop one of the San Gabriel mountains, watching the sun set over Los Angeles, thinking about his next moves.

He knew he couldn't return to his family. As hard as it was, he couldn't interrupt their grief. They had to grow together. Not to mention, the Intersect… his technology. That agent wasn't the only one who would come after it.

Stephen debated his next steps with the machine. Should he really stop it? Even after all this, it was still the single technological feat about which he was most proud.

Still, it was so powerful. Everyone wanted it, but fewer and fewer seemed to have good intentions….

As the sun set, Stephen saw the arm and shield of his constellation cling to the horizon. Could he really let his legacy set?

He had to….

Yet he really didn't want to.

Finally, he decided: he wouldn't stop what he had already set in motion. Earlier that evening, he sent Chuck all the intel he had on his wife's location. If Chuck could find Mary, she'd know how best to handle his own Intersect.

He wouldn't stop running the ads for Ellie, either. Perhaps she could fix the computer – perhaps she could be the expert. And perhaps she could use that expertise to drive the project to more altruistic ends.

As for Stephen? He would watch over everything he could, as a ghost. It would be a powerful tool – his secret existence. He still had some powerful resources at his disposal; if he could detect a malicious development in his project, he'd do everything he could to intervene.

Thus, Stephen clung to his identity. For the time being, Orion lived.