I stared after Frank for a moment. I was too confused to question what had just happened but I felt relieved somehow that I had not been imagining the entire thing, that he really had feelings for me as I did for him. I turned back towards the bed and sat down, meaning to pick up my laptop that I had previously sat aside. It took me a moment to realize that there was a screensaver running on the desktop. I had never installed a screensaver on this computer; it never sat idle when I was using it. The image on the screen was the typical "Flying Through Space" star field that one could install on just about any computer or operating system. I thought for a second that the agents who had obviously gone through my belongings had installed some sort of security screen after scanning my files, but then the screen began flashing a slide show. I stared at the screen in disbelief as photographs of the college, the science hall, the tunnels, my house, my mother, Vanessa and Peter, and finally Frank, appeared and disappeared in random order. Then I saw a picture of myself. I was walking into the science hall. It looked like it could have been a few days before Carter attacked. I was looking directly at the camera but I knew that I had never seen it. I realized I was looking at surveillance photos. Someone had apparently been following those of us who had been working in the building. But it was what materialized next that sent shockwaves of fear through every vessel in my body. First it was a picture of the agents who had stood guard outside my room in the hospital, then the door to my room, then a series of pictures of myself lying in the hospital bed asleep. Some were so close I imagined that the photographer and I could have touched noses. Someone had walked straight into my room in the middle of the night and taken pictures of me. Someone had been able to walk right past the agents outside without raising a single eyebrow. I stared at the screen in horrified shock as the final picture appeared on the screen and froze. It was Frank walking into the hospital room. The picture was taken from the other side of the bed form the door. Frank had seen whoever was standing behind the lens and his presence had been ignored. Whoever it was, they were working on the inside for Carter obviously. I never thought he could get this close to me. But as the image burned into my retinas the screen changed one last time. It was a scrolling marquee with red letters against a black background. The message was a simply stated threat: "Did you think you had gotten rid of me? You took something from me that day Miss Connor. You took many things. It appears that you and Mr. Donovan have something in common. He took something from me long ago and it's time I returned the favor. I lost the one thing I loved most, and now so will Frank Donovan." I could not move for the longest time. The message ran across the screen repeatedly but I could not bring myself to read it again. I had to tell Frank. I had to get up and get downstairs. But my legs were useless and the reality to terrifying. I could feel my breathing escalate, my heart charging my eardrums, feeling as though it were beating the life out of me. I sprang from the bed, slamming the laptop shut at the same time, startling myself with the suddenness of my actions. I stepped back from the bed, not once taking my eyes off of the computer. I crossed my arms in front of me as an icy chill glazed over my limbs. I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry, but I could do neither. I backed towards the door watching the computer as though it might spring to life and chase me down. I stepped into the hall and turned to look down into the living room below. "Frank," I offered meekly, but he did not hear me. "Frank!" I pushed past my fear long enough to yell this time. "What is it Kate?" he asked as he appeared at the foot of the stairs about to make his way up. "My computer," I stammered, "Someone's done something to it." "My agents had it checked out before they brought it here, I'm sure everything is there," he explained calmly. But then I caught his stare and I knew he could see the fear in my eyes. "Kate, what is it?" I shook my head slowly. "No, Frank. It wasn't them. Carter. There's a message from Carter." "On your computer? That can't be," he remained at the bottom of the stairs, obviously as confused and nervous as I was, but barely showing it. "No. It is him. There are pictures. Pictures of everyone. They were in the hospital room Frank. You saw them. There was a picture of you as you came in to check on me. It's someone you know. Someone left to watch over me." The look in his eyes turned grave as he turned towards Jake who had left his place at one of the computers in the living room to hear what I was saying. They stared at each other in silence and I could tell that even they were unsure as to what to do next. "Jake, call Cody. Get everyone back here. Get us some backup, we have to leave here tonight. Kate, wake you mother, get her ready to leave now," his voice was commanding, but riddled with concern. I turned towards the room my mother was sleeping in and I opened the door I could here Frank talking into his radio. He was trying to reach the two agents sent to watch the street. But neither Turnquist not Hill was responding. I stopped and looked over the railing as I opened the bedroom door. Frank was pacing back and forth in front of the window, pulling back curtains just enough to see up each side of the street trying to make out their vehicle. "Where the hell are they? Turnquist? Hill? Come in," he demanded, still peering out from behind the curtains. "Jake are communications down?" "No. Not as far as I can tell. They're just not answering," the young man answer quickly, flipping madly through switches and buttons on every computer and monitor in the room. "What about the perimeter? Anything on the cameras or alarms?" "No, nothing." "Well find out what's going on," he said as he turned around. He saw me watching from the stairs and yelled out, "Kate, your mother, now!" I jumped a little at his harshness, but I ignored it. I pulled myself back from the railing and as I did, the house went dark. I stopped as the darkness draped itself around me with a rapidity that took my breath away. As my eyes adjusted, I could make out a faint mist of light coming in the bedroom window from where I had opened my mother's door just slightly. I looked back towards the downstairs, but I could see nothing but the faint lights of equipment from battery backups and a couple of small monitors. I could hear Frank and Jake talking. I knew that their communications were down as were the surveillance cameras and perimeter alarms. Confused I called out to Frank. From his response, I knew he was still by the window near the stairs. "Kate, get your mother up, get in a corner of the room on the floor and stay put." I turned back towards the bedroom and reached out for the door. Focusing on the light from the room I found the door and pushed it open. I slowly made my way into the room and knelt beside the head of the bed when I finally reached it. "Mom," I said softly, not wanting to startle her too soon. "Mom, wake up." "Katherine? You're here. They should have told me." "Mom, you have to get up and get dressed. We have to hurry." "What do you mean? What's going on? Turn the lights on." "I can't Mom. The electricity has been cut. Hurry, we have to hide." "Hide from what? Where's Frank?" I could here the fear in her voice. She was more confused than I was and unable to understand the situation we had been thrust into. "Frank's downstairs trying to make sure everything's okay. Come on, get up, I have to get you away from the windows," I said as I helped her from the bed. We felt our way to an inside corner where the bed was between the window and us and the door was at the other end of the wall. I had my mother lay down on her side against the wall and I sat down next to her, trying to watch the door through the darkness. I could hear clambering downstairs and would occasionally hear Frank and Jake speaking to one another. After about ten minutes I heard what was to be the start of my next nightmare. Gunfire. Bullets were being sprayed into the living room, the explosion of glass from the windows echoing up the stairs. Instinctively I bent down over my mother and could feel her shaking underneath me. As suddenly as it started the firing stopped. There was a deathly silence from downstairs that frightened me more than the gunfire. I left my mother in the corner and edged my way to the door. I tried to look through the darkness but I could see nothing. I could hear someone moving around downstairs but the disruption was slight and I was uncertain in my state of panic as to its whereabouts. I was turning back towards my mother when something grasped my arm hard and threw me to the floor. The force of the blow knocked the air out of me momentarily but that concern was quickly replaced by another, as the glass in the bedroom window was shattered by another barrage of bullets. I could feel the pressure of another body on top of my own but I did not know who it was until the firing stopped again and they spoke. "Jake, get Mrs. Connor downstairs first, we'll follow," Frank whispered from out of the darkness. "On it," I heard the other agent say and then the shuffle of feet in the dark and a glimpse of a shadow low on the wall. "Kate, are you alright?" "I'm fine," I stammered, still struggling to catch my breath. "We need to move now. I need you to follow me downstairs. We'll go out the back." "But they're out there. How do we get past them?" "You let us worry about that. But we have to get out of here before they get in." I felt him tug at my arm and I sat up. I could not see him but I knew he was already making his way out of the room. I followed as close as I could, almost on hands and knees, following only the sound of Frank's breathing and the faint heat I could feel from his body. We made it down the stairs and paused. Frank called out to Jake softly and he replied, saying that they had made it to the back door in the kitchen. I then felt Frank reach back and tap my knee, a signal it was time to do the same. We weaved our way through the menagerie of furniture in the living room and then stopped again, crouching behind the end of the couch. Frank gave Jake the go ahead to try and make an escape through the back. I attempted to protest, thinking there should be someone there to cover them, but Frank stopped me, again telling me not to worry about it. I heard the back door open with a slight creak but then nothing. At least five minutes past without incident. Scared and confused I placed my hand out and finding Frank's arm gave it a squeeze of concern. "It's okay," he said softly and plainly, "They made it." I heard him stand and did the same. He whispered that we needed to make our way to the back door quickly and instructed me to go ahead of him so he could cover me if they opened fire again. I nodded at his instructions knowing he could not see it, but still too frightened to speak. I turned toward the kitchen and could feel his presence behind me as we started to move, but before we could make it out of the dining area a sudden bright light flooded the room. Startled, both Frank and myself threw our arms up against the explosive illumination. After a second we could tell the light was coming in from the front of the house and turned to look out the front windows. The glass was completed obliterated and the curtains ripped to shreds. The light prevented us from making anything out beyond the window but a voice soon bellowed out from a loudspeaker from the street. "Mr. Donovan, how nice to see you again. Miss Connor, always a pleasure. It seems we have ourselves a little situation here. Here you are, totally unprotected and here I am, armed to the teeth. Now I'm not usually one for quick exits, as Miss Connor can tell you, I tend to aim for the dramatic in my punishments. But no matter how anti-climatic it may be, I think just getting rid of you both in one blow would be for the best. Don't you think? I mean really, this thing has gone on for long enough. I think you would agree that we should just bring this all to a head and finish it. Oh, and just so you know, your agent and Mrs. Connor have already made it off of the premises. I really didn't have any quarrel with them and well, my men couldn't get a good sight on them for all the trees and the derelict garage in the back. But I suppose that is why you chose the place, isn't it? Well, time is of the essence, so I will make my exit and bid you both adieu." Then there was silence again and we stood stone still waiting for what was to happen next. We could hear the voices of the men outside but they were too faint to make out. Then we heard several cars start up and pull away. Then just before the floodlight went out we saw it. A small black object was tossed into the front window. I had know idea what it was, but as the darkness fell quickly, Frank yelled for me to make a run for it as he grabbed my arm again and pulled me towards the back. We burst from the back door and with Frank still pulling me on, tripped down the back stairs. I could hardly make out the sidewalk leading from the house but a sweep of headlights from a backstreet illuminated the back fence line enough for me to see the large trees protruding from the ground and looming above us. We made it only a dozen or so yards from the house, just to the side of the dilapidated garage, when the apparent explosive detonated. The force of the blast knocked us another three yards before we hit the ground. The surge of heat expelled from the house rolled up my back as fell face first into the dirt and grass. I felt Frank throw himself on top of me as debris began to rain down around us. Flaming pieces of wood hit and lodged themselves into the ground only inches from my head. Soon the ricochet from the explosion settled and we sat up and looked back at the house. Leaning back on my arms I squinted against the bright flames that began to consume what was left of the deflated structure. The fire ate away at the dry wood quickly and soon a corner of the roof began to collapse in on itself. At this, Frank directed me to stand and we moved back further, watching as the image burned not only before us but into our memory not only as another close call, but as a very real warning of our possible demise.