Author's Note: I'll put together a summary of the Campers! series sometime today or tomorrow and put a link to it in my profile so people who haven't read all the stories, or might have forgotten something, can go back and look. It won't be all that detailed – or it'd be 900 pages long – but it'll hopefully do the job. I hope you all had a great new year's eve!

OOOOOO

By the time he'd packed the entire contents of the drawer into the case, it was nearing morning. Ian hefted the bulky case and found that while it was a little awkward to carry, it wasn't all that heavy. Which was good, because he obviously couldn't ask anyone for help. He looked at his watch, as he headed up the stairs, and used the telephone to call the cab back to come get him.

While he waited, he sat inside – unwilling to allow any neighbors that might be early riser to see him and wonder about him, and perhaps call the police – and debated what to do with the technology he now held.

He couldn't take it back to the Academy with him. For one thing, it was pretty big and bulky and he'd never be able to hide it. For another, he wasn't all that sure he even wanted to go back to the Academy.

He looked over at a picture on the wall in the living room. One of Shawn, Dotty and James all sitting and posing for a formal family picture. They certainly looked happy, and none of them had any idea of what was to come he was sure. And one dumb idea on his part had certainly fucked that up, hadn't it? He single-handedly managed to take the two people Shawn loved most from him, and Ian wasn't sure he'd be able to face him after that.

He sighed, and fought down the wave of guilt that was so strong just then that it made him want to throw up – made even worse because he was sitting in their house. He was so grateful when he saw the taxi pull up, he practically ran out of the house and got into the back of the car. It was the same driver.

"Hey, kid."

Ian nodded a greeting.

"Where are we going?"

The cadet frowned.

"If I needed a place to stow my suitcase here for a while… where would be a good place?"

"In your room."

Dip shit.

"Yeah, well… that's not an option."

"It's not a bomb or nothing?"

"Of course not."

The cab driver shrugged.

"Why not use one of those public lockers at the bus station? I think there's a limit on how long it can stay there – a week or something – but it's pretty cheap, and sort of secure. There are some at the airport that might be better…"

The last place he wanted to go was the airport.

"Take me to the bus station, then, will you?"

"Sure."

Starting the meter, the driver pulled out into the road.

The bus station was closed when they reached it, but Ian wasn't worried. He paid the driver, and then walked up to the door, reading the sign that told him it would open at 8 AM. He looked around, saw that there was an all night diner across the street, and carrying his case, he walked over to it. He hadn't eaten since breakfast the morning before, and as guilty as he felt, he was also hungry.

The place was fairly empty, with a counter that ran the length of it, with stools to sit on for people who didn't want a table or a booth, and a large TV in the corner that was tuned in to one of the cable news stations.

"Hiya, honey."

He forced a smile when he was greeted by one of the waitresses – a very pleasant young woman, who looked to be about twenty-five and far too chipper for the time of day.

"Hi."

"Something to eat?"

He nodded.

"Table, booth, or counter?"

He shrugged, but gestured towards the booths.

"I'd better have a booth."

It'd give him a place to sit his case while he ate, so he wouldn't have to worry about anyone trying to steal it.

She nodded, picked up a menu from behind the counter and led him over to one of the booths closest to the TV.

"Something to drink to get you started?"

"Coffee's fine."

He didn't really want coffee, but he wanted some caffeine, and it was the best way to get it.

She left him with his menu, which he scanned quickly, and by the time she returned with a glass of ice water, and a cup of steaming coffee, he was ready to order.

Eggs, pancakes, sausages and a bowl of oatmeal.

She wrote it down and left him alone, which was good, because he wasn't in the mood for small talk – he never was, for that matter – and he wanted to be alone. As he added a little cream to his coffee, he watched the news without really watching the news. His mind was jumbled right then, a mixture of the sleepless night, the shock of the day, and yet another group of unknown images dancing around inside his skull as the Ancient's device triggered another learning session. At least Alexander had been right about that; the stupid thing was gradual enough that it wasn't dangerous to him – at least not yet. It was annoying, but it wasn't so distracting that it was going to get him killed. It was just-

"'…elect Robert Kinsey made yet another step towards recovery from the serious automobile accident that he was in last November."

The name drew Ian's attention to the TV, where he saw Kinsey hobbling with a walker and some sort of braces on his legs and arms, supported by a couple of nurses or caregivers of some sort.

"…the first steps he's taken since injuring his arms and legs severely…"

Kinsey.

It hadn't occurred to Ian that Kinsey might have had something to do with the plane crash. The man knew who Dotty was, he knew. Ian had also heard that Dotty had been the one to exact retribution on the senator for the crimes he'd committed against the three cadets. Jack had mentioned that he was certain Kinsey wasn't ever going to be a threat again, but what if Jack was wrong? What if Kinsey had taken advantage of having Dotty in a vulnerable position and had taken her out? Could he be capable of killing a hundred other people just to get at one person? Ian was fairly certain he was, but there was only really one way to find out.

His dark eyes were fixed on the screen now, and he looked at the bottom of the picture where it showed where the story was broadcasting from. LA.

"Here's your breakfast, hon."

He almost jumped out of his skin when the waitress reappeared with a heaping plate of food and a bowl of steaming cereal, and she gave him an apologetic smile.

"Thank you," he told her, knowing it wasn't her fault he was jumpy. As she set it down on the table in front of him, Ian looked at the TV once more and then turned to the waitress before she could leave him alone.

"Is there a car rental place anywhere around here?"