Chapter 14

June 14, 2021

Logan had made numerous phone calls and searches through databases, but around ten o'clock in the morning he had fallen asleep while waiting for the last lead he could follow. So when he finally heard the sound of his phone ringing he didn't immediately recognize the sound, until it penetrated the nice dream he was having.

Without really thinking about it, he raised his head from the desk and tried to find the annoying thing. Finally his blurry eyes located the telephone and while accepting the call he rubbed his face in an attempt to wake himself up. But even so he was still half immersed in his dream. "Max?"

"Logan? It's me, Bernie. I've got that information you were looking for."

Upon hearing those words from his friend, all thoughts of his dream slipped from Logan's mind and he went from being half asleep to full wakefulness. "You have it?" He'd known Bernie would come trough. In the almost two years he'd known the man, he'd never been let down.

"Of course, although I have to say that it wasn't easy to get it. Do you have any idea what I had to do to get my hands on this information? Any idea about how deep it was buried?"

"Bernie…" Logan growled, not in the mood for a lengthy conversation. "Was I right?"

"You might be, but before you go act on what I'm gonna tell you I want you to think really hard."

Well, he doubted that would be necessary but if it would help his friend sleep better. "Sure, now what do you have for me?"

"No, I mean it Logan. The information I've got for you is really disturbing."

Okay, now he was starting to get a bit worried. "Talk."

"I've been looking into this Summers woman for you. Now aside from the persistent rumors that she's from California, there are absolutely no records about her from before 2009."

"What do you mean, none? If she lived in California her records couldn't have been lost in the Pulse."

"If they hadn't been lost in the Pulse, it must have been during the quake of 2012."

That was a possibility, but it just didn't really fit. "I'm not so sure, is it possible that she got rid of them somehow?"

"Logan. What time do you think we're living in? If she offered someone a hundred dollars she could make her records disappear."

Great. Long live the Pulse and all it did for the criminals. "Do you think she did?"

"Maybe, or she never left any proof of her actions."

"Everybody leaves a trace, Bernie. You know that as well as I do."

"And she did."

Didn't he just say she didn't? "What do you mean?" Logan asked.

"She might not have left any records, but there's always the human factor. And trust me, the inhabitants of Los Angeles still remember when Dawn Summers lived there."

"They do?" Logan asked surprised. "But when I asked…"

"Ah, but you asked the wrong people. You only looked at how she is now, the rich and famous Dawn Summers. I instead chose to ask other people."

"What people?"

"The Los Angeles underworld. Where for years there have been rumors about a young girl who managed to scare everyone."

"You mean?"

Bernie chuckled at Logan's careful question. "Oh yes, there weren't many people who knew her name, but once I'd verified she was that girl it all became clear."

"And now we have our proof," Logan whispered.

"Well, no."

No? "What do you mean no?"

"No, as in no. There is no proof one way or the other."

"But you said-"

Logan could hear Bernie sigh on the other side of the connection. Probably just as frustrated as he was. "I know what I said, but following that path led me nowhere."

"Does that mean you don't have any information?"

"Oh no, gathering information from Los Angeles was easy. Too easy almost."

"Too easy?" That couldn't be good.

"Yeah, it was almost as if the people there had been told to expect me and to make sure I found what I needed."

"But you didn't," Logan stated.

"Well, I didn't so much find proof as another place to look."

"Where?"

"Seattle."

"Seattle? Why would you look here?"

"To verify a hunch I had. Like I said, one of the things that struck me about the people in LA was that they seemed to know what to tell me. I also discovered that they must have received those orders somewhere in the last two years."

"Hold on a sec, that doesn't make any sense," Logan mused, "and what does that have to do with Seattle anyway?"

"Summers has done her best to build friendships with people in Seattle for almost a decade. In fact, when you look at the entire United States, there's only one city where she has recent connections."

"That is curious, but-"

"But that's not all," Bernie interrupted him, "for the past two years she has focused even more of her resources on Seattle. From what I understood this had to do with a recording your Eyes Only friend made of a transgenic."

Seth? Had he drawn Summers' attention with that recording of Seth? But if that was the case why hadn't she done anything earlier? Because she hadn't been hired to of course, he answered his own question. "I don't get it."

"That my friend, is where we agree. Her attention has been on several people and businesses and you are on that list as well."

Unfortunately, that made a lot of sense. "Who else is on that list?"

"That messenger service where the hostage thing took place, including several of the people working there."

Sketchy, Original Cindy. Damn, that wasn't good. "Anyone else?"

"Some law enforcement types. A military guy named Lydecker, two NSA agents, one called White, the other Gottlieb. Aside from that some cops, including a captain and a detective, some rich guy called Victor Jackson, but not a lot of people I recognize."

So many? And that for over two years? Where had she learned about Lydecker anyway? Logan then connected something else he'd heard. "A police detective?"

"Yes, one Matt Sung."

Matt. She knew everything didn't she? But the whole situation was starting to make less and less sense. By now he was pretty much certain that Summers was Noir, why else would she be keeping tabs on so many people. Not that they all made sense, but still. "Thanks Bernie. I'll be able to work with this."

"I know. Anyway, there's more."

"More?" Logan asked. "This is enough to give keep me busy for the next five years."

Bernie didn't immediately speak, and Logan started to think the connection had been broken. "Logan?"

"Yes?"

"Have you ever considered the possibility that Noir might not be the bad guy?"

"What are you talking about?" That was ridiculous.

"Have you ever heard of the Watcher's Council?"

Again that name cropped up. "I recognize the name, but that's about it. Summers has something to do with that, doesn't she?"

"Yes. Look, this may sound like a strange question but I have to ask anyway." This wasn't like Bernie, first the strange way he'd supplied the information and now this. "Do you believe in demons?"

For a moment Logan held out his telephone and looked at the display to confirm the caller. Only when he put it back to his head did he speak again. "Sorry?"

"Do you believe in the existence of the creatures commonly classified as demons?" Apparently he'd heard right the first time.

"What, you mean like creatures from Hell?" Logan asked, still wondering what this was about.

"Yes, demons, werewolves, vampires, the whole enchilada."

Logan's first idea was to ridicule the statement, but he had a feeling there was something else he needed to hear. Something that might tell him more about Summers than he'd ever wanted to learn. So, he answered carefully. "I've never seen any evidence proving their existence."

"Do you believe in anything that can't be explained by scientific means?"

"Like I said, I've never seen proof one way or the other." Where was this leading?

A deep sigh came from the other end of the connection, before Bernie continued. "Do you believe in prophecies?"

"Yes."

This answer seemed to surprise Bernie, Logan noticed, as it took his friend a while to answer that statement, and even then it sounded doubtful. "You do?"

"I'm not sure if I believe they come true, but I've seen prophecies and I know people believe in them. That may mean they are self-fulfilling, but that doesn't mean they aren't real." Max was one walking prophecy after all, even though they hadn't managed to decipher all of the ancient Minoan text yet.

"Good. We can work from there. It's hard to give any proof right now, but everything I mentioned is real."

"You mean the demons?"

"Yes, I mean the demons, and the vampires, and the witches, and the-"

"Alright, I understand," Logan cut him off. "Let's assume for a moment I believe you, what does that have to do with Summers?"

"From September 1996 to November 1997 she lived in a town called Sunnydale."

"Sunnydale?" Logan breathed, now even more certain of his suspicions. Wasn't it Alec who'd said that Noir hunted those who caused that bombing?

"Yes, the town that was bombed. Do you know what the original Spanish settlers called it?"

Once again he wondered what Bernie was talking about, but as he was mostly thinking about Summers and Sunnydale, Logan didn't really mind. "I've got no idea."

Getting up from his chair, Logan started gathering everything he thought he would need to convince Max. "Boca del Inferno."

Which meant… "The Mouth of Hell?" That stopped him in his tracks.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"To put it simply? Because it was."

"Are you trying to tell me that there is a real entrance to hell, and it's located in some small suburb?"

"Used to be, something happened there to cause it to move. I'm not sure what, although the talk is that it was caused by the sister of a Slayer."

Right. A Slayer. "And what might that be?"

"A Slayer? Sorry, I forgot you don't really know anything about this stuff. A Slayer is more or less the ultimate bogeyman for the demons. Usually a teenage girl."

A teenage girl was the thing that scared demons the most. Well, at least some things in the universe were consistent. But he really didn't care about all this, he needed to get to Max and tell her about Summers. "Look Bernie, if you don't have anything important to tell me I really got to go."

"This is important, Logan. And there's more." More? Why did more and more keep coming?

"What?"

"Do you know how old Summers is?"

"Thirty-seven, although she looks younger. Why?"

"Noir was not the first name she used," Bernie whispered.

Not the first name? "Bernie, I really don't have time for these guessing games."

"She was known under another name as well."

"Yeah, you've already told that to me." What was Bernie doing? It was almost as if he was stalling for ti-. Logan froze as he allowed that thought to come to the fore. "Bernie?"

"Yes Logan?"

"Where did you get all this information?"

Silence greeted him, and he felt the despair rise. "Have you heard of the Order of Teraka?"

"A guild of sorts of assassins, aren't they? But where did you get this information?" This time he put an even greater emphasis and urgency in the question.

"Before you do anything else, I want you to remember that Noir has only two goals in her life. Destroy the Terakans, and fulfill the prophecies." Bernie was quiet for a moment longer, before saying the last words Logan would ever hear from him. "I'm sorry."

Staring at the disconnected telephone, Logan could think of only one thing. Betrayed. Never, not once had he had even the slightest indication that his friend would betray him. He worked for Summers, there was no doubt about that now, but even as he thought that, his mind started functioning again.

If Bernie worked for the enemy, why had he given away so much information? And above all, why had he done all that. No! Shaking his head Logan thought of something far more important. Bernie had been stalling, almost as if he was attempting to keep him here. Away from Max.

Not wasting anymore time, Logan sprinted out of the building and getting into his car he drove as fast as he could to Terminal City.

X.X.X

Her conversation with Dawn had ended hours before, but Samantha was still thinking about it. There was something about it that bothered her. She just couldn't think of what it was, and that was starting to annoy her. So, instead of spending a nice day shopping with a friend, here she was having doubts about that same friend.

No, not doubts. Why was she thinking about doubts? She was curious about her friend's behavior, but that was all. There were no doubts anywhere, she'd never had any doubts about her friend so why would she start now?

Or had she? No. Empathically shaking her head, Samantha turned away from those traitorous thoughts and back to the conversation she'd had that morning. Had Dawn been trying to tell her something? It was almost as if she'd been talking around something. But what?

Alright, let's go about this the right way. Focus on one thing and think that through. What part of the conversation stood out more than the rest? The mugger? The casual way she talked about the people who'd died? Or the way she seemed to protect that murderous bitch?

Taking a note block, Samantha decided to go for the mugger thing first. What had Dawn said about that? Somebody had tried to mug her, obviously despite the risk that she might be Noir. Now that she thought about it, that seemed rather unlikely. But she was going to write down the facts.

Somebody had tried to strangle Dawn, as proven by the red marks around her neck.

Noir was in town so nobody would normally attack a woman.

Someone had taken care of the strangler. Where taken care was rather ambiguous.

Looking at the notes, Samantha knew that something wasn't entirely right about it, but she just couldn't identify her suspicions. Getting up from the chair she started pacing. Why would somebody attack Dawn now? Especially if you consider the possible repercussions.

Those repercussions were probably the reason that someone had helped her. If another lowlife had seen the attack, he might have feared what Noir would do about it. No, if the attack had already been happening it would have been obvious Dawn wasn't Noir.

And why was she having these traitorous thoughts again? There was no reason for it. Walking back to the table, she took the paper she'd written her notes on and tore it apart. No. She would not betray her friend's trust like this.

Turning around Samantha walked to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. Filling the machine with water and placing the fresh ground beans in their place, she waited in the kitchen while the percolator did its job. Only once she started to smell the delicious scent of the black mixture, did she get out a fresh cup from which she could drink.

Like with the coffee machine, her movements where it came to filling her cup were familiar and swift. The first sip always tasted the best, and this was the case now as well. Carrying the cup of coffee back to the living room, Samantha couldn't help but consider everything once more.

Strange how Dawn's behavior started to bother her only now, after all those years she'd known her friend. And why her? Wouldn't that sort of action be more suitable for one of Dawn's enemies? Like that bastard Blanc?

Grimacing at the thought of that creature, Samantha considered how lucky Dawn had been in that instance. And what a lying piece of dung Blanc had been. How could she have ever believed anything he'd said? Huh? Staring into the void, Samantha considered that thought. She had never believed anything Blanc had said.

Yes, the two of them had spoken at that party Dawn had given but she had instantly dismissed all his claims, hadn't she? They had been so ridiculous after all, and once Blanc had been arrested she'd been extremely happy she'd done so. That man had deserved the swift and merciless justice he'd received. At least he'd deserved the sentence. And if she was honest to herself, she didn't really care that he'd been stupid enough to anger his fellow inmates that much.

It wasn't as if their reaction could have been such a big surprise after all. People died in jail, and Blanc was merely one of those people. But still, her memory was a bit fuzzy where it concerned that night. She had been drunk, but why would she have drunk that much?

Because she wanted to repress something? The thought came unbidden, but Samantha had to admit it was the most logical answer. What could she possibly have tried to repress though? Aside from the conversation with Blanc, that she barely remembered, there hadn't been anything special about that night.

'I'm curious Samantha, why didn't you believe what Blanc told you?' That's what Dawn had asked the next morning and, despite her excruciating hangover, Samantha had replied that it was simply too unlikely. At the time she hadn't paid any real attention to the expression on Dawn's face, but now she could remember the strange mixture of relief and sadness.

Why? Why had Dawn been both sad and relieved? That sort of thing had never made any sense to her, but that was what her friend had looked like. Sad and relieved… Hmm. This was difficult. 'She has killed people.'

What? Where had that thought come from? Samantha stood up from the couch, and once again she started pacing. This wasn't good, she was suddenly starting to imagine people speaking to her. Or did she? It sounded like Blanc's voice, but he'd never told her anything like that. And if he had why would she remember it only now? And with such clarity?

"Why?" Samantha muttered. Was there something about that night that would give her the insight she needed? That would be pretty bad as she hardly remembered anything about it. But she should try; try to find out what her subconscious was trying to tell her.

In her mind she went over the night again. She wasn't there for any business purpose, so she could focus on the social aspect of the party. Roaming freely through the room she had suddenly been stopped by Blanc, when he asked his incredibly rude question. 'You look fairly intelligent, why would you be so stupid as to live in the United States?'

No. Now that she thought about it again, there was something wrong with that. He hadn't asked the question, someone else had told her what the question was that he wanted to ask. And there was only one person who would be so blunt to her. So, she nodded her head in a confirming gesture, Dawn must have told her that.

If that was the case though, why was she remembering it wrong? Had Dawn mentioned it the next day? To make her hate the man even more? No, aside from that single question Dawn had refrained from mentioning Blanc. Maybe it was the drinking then? But that didn't make a lot of sense either; she hadn't started drinking until after that confrontation.

Which once again begged the question of why. There had to be a reason she had been drinking that night. 'You want to know if what he said was true, don't you? You think I might have had those people killed.'

"No." This time she spoke up clearly, Dawn had never asked her anything like that. 'I can't give you proof either way, but do you really think I could have killed anyone?'

"Shut up!" Samantha shouted at the phantoms in her mind, while grabbing her suddenly hurting head. "Shut up."

"Samantha?" Jacob asked as he came running into the room. He was still wearing his jacket, Samantha noticed despite the pain, he must have returned only just now. "What's wrong my love?"

"Hurts."

"Your head? I'll go get some ice and call the doctor, we can keep it cool until he arrives."

No, despite everything that was happening, Samantha knew she didn't want a doctor. "No doctor."

"But honey, you're suffering. You need help, and I can't give it to you," Jacob begged. He was so sweet, but sometimes that very sweetness was a burden. And today was one example of that. It hurt, yes, but while it showed no sign of lessening Samantha was certain it would be over soon. And once it was…

Once it was, something important would happen. She knew it in the very core of her being. There was something hidden in her mind that would answer every question she had about her friend.

X.X.X

This wasn't going the way she'd planned it, Dawn calmly thought as she held Original Cindy between herself and the transgenics. Not that she could see them, but upon their arrival at the door she had already spotted the various lights that had been supposed to blind her. Supposed to, because she had closed her eyes and turned away shortly before they'd been turned on.

And then, she'd had to move quickly. Dave had been taken out first, a move that she might have regretted in any other situation but was necessary here. The lights had managed to blind him, making it even easier to knock him out. Which was definitely a good thing, as she didn't have a lot of time to waste on him.

There was only one person in the entire room who the transgenics would hesitate to shoot. The only person here who was a personal friend of their leader. So, while the door had burst open, and Dave fell bonelessly to the ground, Dawn had attacked Original Cindy.

Well, attacked was probably a rather big word for what happened, but it was the closest she could come. Still keeping her eyes firmly closed, Dawn had moved only with the aid of her ears. Improved hearing wasn't the fastest skill to develop, but in her line of work it was worth it.

And while her right hand snaked around the woman's throat, holding her in a position from which she could end Original Cindy's life in one quick, but brutal, movement, she used her left to aim her gun at the place where she heard transgenics entering the room. Time for negotiations.

But first she needed to prevent Original Cindy from doing anything really stupid. So from behind the woman's back she whispered her threat. "Move, and you're dead."

As the soldier she once was, Original Cindy had no trouble following such a command and Dawn was more than happy as she felt her living shield still her movements. "Good afternoon, guys. What did I do to deserve this little show?"

No answer came, not that she'd expected otherwise but she'd hoped the time away from Manticore had eased them a bit. On the other hand, if they wanted to play the silent game she could handle it. Original Cindy figuring everything out, with or without Dave's help, had destroyed every chance of getting into a decent position to complete her mission. However, that didn't mean she was about to give up.

The silence continued, and she focused on what she could hear. The transgenics were moving. What would they try to do? There were far more of them, and all they really needed to take her out was one single moment where they'd have a decent shot. And as long as she stayed hidden behind Original Cindy they couldn't shoot her while she was facing them, so they needed to circle around. In any other situation this might have posed a bit of a problem for her, but not here. Not now.

She might not have the tactical advantage, but neither did they. Yes, they outnumbered her, but the transgenics would need more than sheer numbers to defeat her. Especially as there was only one way they could get at her back. Or would they try to call the police, either for help or to allow them to walk around her?

She had estimated the possibility of that to be rather low, but she hadn't wanted to take any risks. The fight with the vampires had been all the unnecessary risks she wanted to take. But even so, she didn't have any control over the National Guard, and with the police it was only the former Watcher.

Focusing on the stealthily moving transgenics, Dawn had trouble hearing their movements. So focused was she on trying to hear their movements that even the rapid heartbeat of her hostage seemed loud. But there was no way the transgenics could move around as silently as they'd need to if they wanted to hide from her.

Movement.

Her ears picked up the barely audible sign that the group was splitting up. A foot as it landed on a slightly creaking board, a slight scuffing sound as the grip on a gun was altered. The sounds were all still there, but they were spreading out.

This would compromise her mission, and picking one of the transgenics as an object lesson, her purpose was obvious. While Dawn was unable to see where the transgenics were, that didn't matter as she could hear them. The sound of her chosen transgenic's breathing was calm and controlled, but audible nonetheless. She couldn't afford to hesitate now.

In one smooth, flowing, movement Dawn pointed the gun where she had located the transgenic, and pulled the trigger. It was satisfying to feel her hostage jump in sudden fright at the sound of the gunshot, but scaring her wasn't the reason why she had taken the shot.

These were among the most dangerous beings in the city. Before her fight with the vampires the night before she'd already thought about the differences between the two groups, and how she had to adapt her behavior to that. There were a number of questions though, several things she didn't know.

One of these, and right now perhaps the most important, was the amount of armor the transgenics had access to. It made sense to assume that what they had of it was used here, at the entrance, but as the big bright spot on the back of her eyelids told her the lights were still on, she couldn't confirm it. Not what kind it was, who had it, or how well they made use of it.

That had left her with only one sure way she could take out a transgenic. A decision for which Dawn didn't need to read a prophecy. Only heroes had trouble with an action like this.

As the echo from the gunshot faded away, Dawn could confirm that the breathing had stopped. Nobody could dodge a bullet once it had been fired, not a Slayer and not a transgenic either. The only way to survive was to not be there when the trigger was pulled, something she had no doubt the transgenics were able to do.

"Enough," Dawn spoke up. That first shot had been successful due to surprise, but these professionals wouldn't allow that to keep them for long. And despite her earlier thoughts, they did have all the advantage they really needed. She was hiding behind someone she couldn't see, while they could see everything.

All that was needed for her to lose this battle was to give them a single shot, and everything she'd done for the past years would have been for nothing. "I had no wish to kill him, but I will defend myself."

It wasn't one of the transgenics who answered though, it was her hostage. The hostage that had gathered some courage. "Just shoot her guys, even if you have to go through me."

"I'd recommend against that. Your boss won't like it."

"I'm doing this for Max, you psycho."

"And how will they prove you wanted them to take the shot?" Dawn whispered loud enough that Original Cindy's could hear, all too aware that the transgenics would hear those words as well. She then directed her next words directly at the group. "Let's do this differently, why don't we all go inside and have a little talk with your leader?"

"As if Original Cindy's gonna let you get to her boo," her hostage snorted. "You wanna kill her."

Ignoring the woman wasn't hard, and Dawn remained focused on the transgenics. "I will surrender my weapons, if you let me talk to her. Or do you really believe that one of you can't take out a normal like me?" Well, maybe a not quite normal like her, but what they didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

The group remained silent however, obviously not interested in entering a dialog with her. Could they be waiting for someone who would make the call? Normally people stationed at a gate were allowed to make this kind of decision on their own, But then again, this was hardly a normal situation. The potential assassin of their leader was holding one of that leader's friends hostage.

A friend that just wouldn't shut up. "She's not norma-" Original Cindy started before a bit of carefully applied pressure stopped her from finishing.

By then it was too late though, as Dawn was certain that the transgenics had figured out what the woman had tried to say. Which meant it was time to quickly distract them, before they'd think too much about it.

"Alright, I understand you're waiting for someone. And you probably don't really like me much for shooting your colleague. Fine. Let's wait, how about a cease-fire then? You people stay where you are, and I won't shoot anyone else. And then when your superior arrives, we can dispense with all this unpleasantness." Sure Dawn, because people were always so eager to negotiate after you've started killing them.

"I don't think that will be necessary." A slightly raspy voice suddenly spoke up.

Okay, who could this be? Mentally she reviewed all the recordings she'd seen with transgenics on them, and quickly came to the conclusion that there was only one person this could be. "Hello, I'm afraid the media never managed to catch your name. Nor did my people actually, which is interesting in itself considering your age. I do know you're the one who was with Joshua, Max, and Alec during the Jam Pony thing. So, what's your name?"

"Why don't we start with yours instead? And while we're at it, why don't you lower your gun, let the girl go and surrender to us?"

"Ah, well you see," Dawn said, still from behind Original Cindy's back, "that's not going to work. I'm afraid that for some reason I might not survive that."

"I believe you just offered that possibility yourself, I'm simply taking you up on it."

Well, that was true. But that had mostly been stalling to find a way to get through the barricade. Something that she was starting to doubt she would be able to do. And that wasn't something she was happy about. In fact, she was pretty sure that if Dave had been conscious he would have regretted his betrayal. Oh yes, she would have made sure he did.

"Her name's Summers," Original Cindy suddenly spoke up, showing Dawn she'd lost her control on the situation completely.

"Summers, eh? That sounds familiar."

"There's some rich woman in France who's called Summers," another transgenic spoke up, causing Dawn to curse the fact she still couldn't see anything.

Original Cindy had obviously gained enough confidence from the appearance of this guy though. "That's her."

"Interesting," the lizard-faced man mused. Now that would have been interesting to see, what would something—someone—like him look like when musing?

But that wasn't important, she had to get inside and now with her initial plan ruined through Dave's meddling there was need for a new plan. Dawn believed the nameless man when he told her she wouldn't be shot, but that still left-

"Shots fired! Max has been shot!" a new voice suddenly shouted.

No! They were here already!

X.X.X

Jacob was worried. And not just a bit worried either. He'd been at a meeting, a meeting where he'd once again noticed that Victor hadn't taken Dawn's rejection very well. Why had she toyed with his friend like that anyway? Samantha had said that it was because of some sort of holy day or something for Dawn, but explaining that to someone as proud as Victor would never work.

Despite Victor's reticent behavior, the meeting had gone well. But when he then returned home he'd found Samantha on the ground, holding her head in painful agony. Had it been him, he would have taken a bunch of painkillers, but he knew Samantha's loathing of drugs too well to even consider offering that. It was only when she refused a doctor as well that it really started to weird him out.

Samantha could be difficult, he had known that even on that glorious night he'd proposed, but over the years certain things had come to light that he hadn't thought possible. The nightmares about her sister's death still plagued her, but what she probably never thought about was the fact that they weren't silent either.

There had been many nights where he'd held her close to him, like he was doing right now, in an attempt to offer the comfort she needed. During those nights there was always one word that kept popping up. One word that she apparently hated with everything she was. A word she never uttered to him during the day.

It wasn't until he'd heard it over and over again that he started to worry why her nightmares always contained vampires. What was it about those non-existent creatures that scared her so. At first he'd thought that she was using the vampires as a way to explain what had happened to Jeanie. Maybe imagining the attackers were vampires was the only way she could deal with her loss.

But then one night he'd discovered the variations on that theme. From the seemingly running commentary she provided in her dreams, it became obvious that the vampires were the only consistent part. Sometimes the dream took place at the warehouse where Jeanie had died, sometimes it was at their house, or even somewhere completely different. And it wasn't always Jeanie who died either.

Jacob knew that after Jeanie he was probably the one who died most often in those dreams, dreams where Samantha was never able to do anything. But there were a lot more people who received that same treatment, all of them people she was afraid to lose. Except for one. And while it hurt, he had learned to live with it.

In Samantha's dreams, everybody but her always died. Everybody but her, and Dawn. For some reason, when Dawn was there in the dream she survived. Never in the same way, never easy, but she survived. When and if Dawn turned up, the dreams usually took a turn for the better and Samantha would calm down.

He would have preferred if dreaming about him had that effect, but he knew Samantha too well to be jealous over something like that. Jacob was the one person she feared to lose more than any other, and if that meant she thought he was less capable of protecting himself than Dawn. Well, so be it.

"It hurts," Samantha whimpered again, causing his mind to return to her present predicament.

"Shh. Try to remain calm, I'm here and you'll get through it." Avoiding the towel on her forehead, Jacob stroked her hair in a soothing way. But despite his own words and actions he could feel his heart hammering in his throat. If this didn't get any better soon, Samantha was out of luck and he'd call for the doctor.

For a moment he even debated giving her a choice between the doctor and painkillers, but that wouldn't do. No, he was far too worried for something like that. Just like he'd been worried enough to ask her family about the vampire thing. But like he'd initially done, they'd believed it was simply her way to deal with the murder.

Was it? Even now sitting on the couch while she was resting her head in his lap Jacob wasn't sure about anything. During his discussions with both Samantha's mother and brother they had told him that initially Samantha had mentioned the vampires in her story, but after a while she'd stopped doing so. It had been believed by both Samantha's family and the aid worker that she had come to grips with the reality of the situation.

But that was where Jacob had his doubts. He knew Samantha so very well, and while she might have changed since she was young, but she'd never hid from reality. This had started him thinking in a direction he really didn't like. What if Samantha had only changed her story because it was the only way anyone would believe her?

That possibility made an unfortunate amount of sense, but it scared him. If vampires were real, what else could be? Did he even want to find out?

Looking down at the love of his life, Jacob couldn't handle the expression of pain any longer. Samantha had always been the strong one, probably both because of what happened to her sister, and how her father had died. He on the other hand had suffered grief only once.

When an earthquake ruined what was supposed to be the best day of his life by destroying his ancestral home. Oh, if only it had stopped at destroying the building. Jacob closed his eyes in remembered grief. He had lost most of his family that day, and the only reason he hadn't been among them was because of the beautiful woman whose suffering he was now trying to ease.

If she hadn't insisted that they'd go to Paris… Opening his eyes again, Jacob stared at Samantha for a moment. Having made his decision, he then gently lifted up her head while moving away from under it. Still moving slowly, he then picked up a pillow and put that under her head before kneeling next to the couch.

"I'm sorry honey, but I can't handle you suffering like this. I'm calling the doctor."

Judging by the lack of any change in expression on her scrunched up face, Jacob doubted she'd heard him and he started to move away.

A hand stopped him though, but when he looked back at her he couldn't hear what she was saying until he leaned over her. "Water."

Of course, he should have done that earlier but had been too immersed in self pity. Quickly walking back to the kitchen, Jacob filled a carafe with water and taking both a glass and straw he brought it all back to where it was needed.

"Here," Jacob said as he filled the glass and pushed up her head a little before putting the straw between her dry lips. Hopefully this would help. But Samantha only managed a couple of sips before exhaustion stopped her.

Checking the towel, he decided to make use of some of the remaining water and wet it again. The speed with which it had dried up made him worry even more. Another attempt to get her to drink proved useless, and he looked around for anything else he could do to help her.

There wasn't anything though, so recognizing he'd done everything he could to ease Samantha's pain for the moment, he left the room. Quickly he walked towards his office, for while there were phones closer by, that small room contained the only cordless one. Samantha hadn't trusted those things since the Pulse, but he'd always considered them useful and had taken one for his own.

It might be a bit stubborn, and perhaps even ridiculous when you considered the small room he kept it in, but right now he was very grateful for that decision. This way he could remain close to Samantha while he talked to the doctor.

"Sir, when did you get back?"

Spinning around, Jacob looked at Walter with surprise. Of course, he should have remembered the servant was in the house. And now that he remembered, he didn't hesitate for a moment. "Quickly, get the cordless phone from my office and bring it back to me in the living room. Samantha's hurt."

Walter would do as he'd been ordered, and in the meantime Jacob himself could return to Samantha, he didn't want her to be alone any longer than necessary. Whatever was wrong with her couldn't be good.

X.X.X

As she fell to the ground Max was grateful for two things. The first being Mole's insistence on her wearing one of the few bulletproof vests they had, and the second that these assassins were kind enough to shoot that, instead of somewhere instantly lethal.

"She's alive."

"The vest."

"Why?"

"The contract. If possible, make her suffer."

"True. But enough."

"Agreed, I'll handle it."

Great, they sounded like a couple of bad actors. But that didn't mean they weren't dangerous, one mistake was possible, a second one was unlikely. Rolling to her side Max did her best to ignore the pain in her chest. Because while the vest might have stopped the bullet from entering her body, the impact was still very painful.

The transgenic, she wasn't entirely certain if it was Jack or Daniels, vaulted over the desk separating them when the door burst open and an X-6 stormed in. Her attacker obviously hadn't expected this and he froze in surprise, not even raising the old-looking knife in his hand.

Time seemed to slow down as Max took everything in with her enhanced senses. Unlike the green transgenic, the X-6, Kyle, didn't hesitate even a moment as he identified the threat to his commanding officer. While Max was still getting up to her feet, he was already turning his weapon to the attacker closest to her.

The first shots nearly overloaded her ears, before she subconsciously tuned down their sensitivity. At the same time she watched the bullets impact on the attackers body, causing green blood to spray out. Green blood? She couldn't help but think that was a very strange side-effect of the genetic modifications, but she didn't waste a lot of time on it.

She had finally gotten back on her feet, and while one of the attackers was being taken down, the other was still a danger. Within moments more of her friends would have arrived, but she wasn't sure if that would be fast enough. The other attacker was already raising his gun, but not at her.

She wanted to save Kyle, but her path to the attacker was blocked by the continues fire from his weapon. And as the X-6s head was torn apart by the bastard's bullets, Max came closer to wishing she had a gun than ever since she'd sworn them off.

But there was something the attacker hadn't counted on. With the spray of bullets no longer barring her way, Max moved in. Moving faster than a normal human being could even dream of, she crossed the distance between them before Kyle had hit the ground.

A punch landed on his—Daniels she decided—face but that was only the start of Max's attack. The second punch caught the stumbling traitor in the chest, and barely a second later she'd spun around to kick him in the chin. Before anyone had arrived to help her and poor Kyle, Daniels was already lying on the floor.

But the downed man didn't give up, rolling to his side he managed to dodge her follow up stomp to his stomach, and tried to sweep her legs from under her. She was faster though, but while she was in the air above him Max had to dodge the sudden stroke of a sword. What was it with these two and ancient weapons?

Well, alright, she conceded while contorting her body in such a way that the sword missed and upon landing quickly rolled away, ancient but obviously not quite outdated. Maybe she should see into finding out how to use a sword herself.

Dodging the sword, and especially rolling away, had taken more time than she'd planned, which allowed Daniels to get up himself. The two of them were now facing each other, and in any other situation she would have made some kind of smart comment. But not this time, interrogating this one would come later.

Once again they came at each other, Daniels swinging his sword in a move that to Max's eye looked more like something meant to appear impressive than something that actually was. Still, she had no intention of having a meeting with that sharp edge.

Max didn't have anything to block the sword with. The only thing that might be able to halt the impact of the sword was likely to be Kyle's weapon. But that happened to be on the wrong side of Daniels. However, if he was unable to use his hands, the sword would no longer pose a danger.

As she got within reach of the assassin, Max made use of the way he constantly seemed to underestimate her speed by suddenly moving a bit faster. That way she was able to intercept his hand as it came down in an attempt to cleave her head in two. "I don't think so, buddy." Alright, so she couldn't help herself after all.

Unfortunately, Daniels wasn't the only one doing some underestimating. She had taken hold of his right hand, intercepting the blow, but when he suddenly reversed the direction that arm was going Max started dangling from that arm. Wow! How strong was this guy? While she didn't get an actual answer to that question, she did get another demonstration of that strength as his left arm came around to smack her away.

That smack hurt incredibly, and Max was pretty sure that it had bruised her side, but as she hit the wall that impact turned her away from the other pain. She hadn't even had the time to soften the impact with her hands, Max dimly thought as she slid down to the floor. But she couldn't give up, there was no way she could do that.

A quick glance around showed her where she was, and as she noticed Jack's knife lying close to her she didn't hesitate in grabbing it. Time to show this asshole what she was made of. Using her left hand as leverage on the cool floor, Max jumped back to her feet, a move that was only slightly lessened in its beauty by the way she flinched as she landed on her feet.

It all proved to be for nothing though, as before she even got ready to move in again someone took advantage of the fact that she was no longer in the line of fire and shot the traitor. Repeatedly. With a shotgun.

The first shot caused a spray of blood from the traitor’s torso, something that didn't immediately make him go down. The familiar sound of a fresh shell being pumped into the chamber was closely followed by the second shot that destroyed Daniels' face by taking off almost the entire left side. Max barely heard the sound of the first shell touching the ground when a third shot was aimed at the only recognizable part of the traitor's face.

By then Daniels was already on his knees, and poised to fall over, when the shotgun was emptied again by tearing out another chunk of his chest. Only then, being destroyed completely, was the body allowed to fall down to the ground completely.

Once the body had stopped all movements, did Max manage to turn her eyes away from the body and turned to the door where the woman who'd saved her was looking at the corpse with loathing in her eyes. "Thanks," she whispered, not quite knowing what to do when faced with a hatred like that.

"He killed Kyle," Ariel answered, not moving her eyes from the corpse for a second. The shotgun too, Max noticed, had already been reloaded and was pointed at Daniels.

"I know," she answered Kyle's teammate—and perhaps more she now realized. "He's dead now though."

"No, he should have gone down from the first shot. There was no armor to stop the pellets, and he wasn't even dead after the second shot. The third appeared to kill him, but I won't take that chance."

Okay, ordering the woman to put away the weapon wasn't going to work and she had no intention of ordering something that wouldn't be obeyed. Besides, she could see how Ariel might want to exact revenge for this. She would have done the same thing for Logan.

Logan. Was Noir involved in this attack? How could that woman have managed to subvert one of her own? Two transgenics even, not just one. Carefully making sure she didn't get in Ariel's line of fire, she walked around the woman so that she could leave the office and step into the command-center.

"Max, are you alright?"

"Are you okay?"

"Those damned traitors."

"If Ariel hadn't taken that bastard out…"

While the words were all different, each and every sentence one of the transgenics said conveyed the same meaning. They were glad she had survived, angry that Kyle hadn't, and disappointed they hadn't been the ones to take revenge. This was the team spirit that to Max represented the positive side of her military upbringing. The way everybody would do anything for their fellow soldiers.

"Thanks guys, I'm fine though. A bit sore," or maybe more than a bit, "but alright. The danger is over." Hey, the whole fight thing had put it out of her mind, but there was something going on over at the entrance as well. She should find out what was going on there.

As she opened her mouth to ask though several things happened at once. Mole came running through the entrance, closely followed by a woman she didn't know, and Original Cindy. Which at first sight appeared to be a good thing, and she turned to them to ask what was going on.

Then she realized that nobody unknown was allowed to enter Terminal City, and she went to change her question to reflect that. The woman appeared to be between twenty-five and thirty years old, which made her too old to be an X-5, and as far as she knew there weren't any older models alive.

That question had to wait though, as suddenly a strange sound made her look back to the office. Just in time to see a flaming Ariel flying across the room.

"What?" She wasn't quite sure who asked that question, she might have even been the one, but within half a second every single weapon was pointed at the office. Something was left alive in there, and that something was far more powerful than she'd thought.

With a loud roar, both Jack and Daniels suddenly appeared in the doorway. Impossible! She could still see some of Daniels' scars, but even they seemed to be fading before her eyes. And Jack, Jack didn't show a single sign of the wounds that had killed him.

Well, obviously not killed him, Max thought as the guns around her started firing their deadly payloads at the assassins. How could they have survived? Instead of trying to figure out that question however, her mind froze at the sight that came next.

All Jack had done was raise his hand, and as if he was some kind of hero in a superhero movie that single movement seemed to stop all the bullets in mid flight. It wasn't long then before the last shot petered out and all of the transgenics were staring at him. "Step aside. Our contract is for her only, killing you would just take time."

As one, all the transgenics stepped in front of her. A move she now understood could only lead to death. Not everybody had done so however, the unfamiliar woman who'd just entered was running towards her attackers. Not even bothering to look, Jack waved his hand at her and this time Max could see the shock wave.

She wasn't the only one though, and the woman managed to dodge it. A feat that was impressive even in Max's book. Both Jack and Daniels seemed to agree with that, and without a word being spoken, Daniels moved to intercept the woman. At least, that was his plan before he took a good look at her.

"No!" he shouted, suddenly terrified.

This sudden shout, made Jack momentarily lose his concentration, and he looked in the same direction, blanching when he obviously recognized the woman. "Impossible. What is she doing here?"

The woman didn't answer though, and by the time Jack finished his sentence, she had gotten within range. Within range for what Max didn't really understand, if guns couldn't even penetrate whatever shield Jack was keeping up, how did the woman figure a single knife could?

But it did. The woman took the knife from where it was hidden in her hair, and threw it with a precision that seemed almost unnatural. And when it reached the strange invisible wall… it simply passed through as if it wasn't even there. Until, at the end of its arch, the knife ended up in the terrified Jack's forehead.

A strange sound shocked everybody, everybody except Daniels and the woman, as Jack swayed a moment before falling to the ground in front of him. And this time when he hit the ground, something happened that Max would never have expected in a thousand years. He started melting. With horrified eyes she stared at the sight, until the sound of battle drew her, and everybody else's, eyes back to the remaining confrontation.

A gunshot sounded, but the woman was no longer where Daniels' weapon was pointing. She had already rolled out of the way, and during that move she'd taken another knife from somewhere. That knife's flight went as straight as the first, but Daniels managed to move to his side just in time for the weapon to pass by his head.

The woman almost seemed to have anticipated that however, as she hadn't hesitated for even a single moment after throwing the knife. And Max felt her eyes grow as she watched the battle that took place when the woman finally reached her target. Because target was the only way she could describe how the woman acted towards Daniels.

The crunching sound as Daniels' knee was shattered by the very first blow that landed told her that this woman definitely knew what she was doing. Despite her earlier doubts it also became apparent that the woman was a transgenic after all. She was simply moving too fast for her not to be.

A second kick, and a slice with yet another knife that had suddenly appeared in her hands, and Daniels went down to the ground. The woman then quickly gathered the other knife from the puddle of slime that had once been Jack, and stabbed it in Daniels' forehead causing another of those strange sounds.

And then, as suddenly as the whole thing had started, it was over. Her attackers were dead, and Max really doubted they'd be able to get up again this time. There was something about being turned into a puddle of goo that convinced her of that.

"What the fuck just happened?" Mole was the first to speak. "What kind of freaks were they?"

Instead of answering him though, the woman started gathering her knives, looking disapprovingly at the edge of the knife she'd used for ending the traitors' lives. Max had gotten curious about this woman now though, somebody who seemed to have her own opinion about guns, and walked over to her. "Hey, thanks."

Once again, the woman didn't respond, although she briefly closed her eyes in almost silent supplication. Completely ignoring Max, a rather rude thing to do in her opinion, she then walked closer to the office where she picked up the shotgun that Ariel had dropped earlier.

"Hey! You said you wouldn't take a gun!" Mole shouted, while running over. What was going on here? Max thought, before looking back at the woman. And the business end of that shotgun.

"Renfro," was all the woman said.

What? Was that her name? If so, she was off to a very bad start, not that the whole gun pointing thing was good. "What are you talkin' 'bout?"

While saying those words, Max looked in the woman's eyes for the first time and went silent. There was nothing there that even resembled emotion. Max's eyes flashed to the slime puddles representing the assassins who'd managed to kill two X-6s, and while swallowing the lump in her throat she suddenly realized who she was facing. Noir had arrived to kill her.

"Renfro, did you kill Renfro?"

Post-fic comments: Ah, aren't cliffhangers nice? Anyway, as some people have pointed out in reviews, they're surprised at how few reviews there actually are. There is a rather easy solution for that, and a review doesn't necessarily have to be long (although I do like those). But in the end pushing the review button is a rather simple move, and typing a couple of words doesn't take very long.

Xelab, well here is the chapter you've been waiting for. I hope you're not dissapointed... Let me prepare you though, the next chapter will once again be a flashback one. Although that should explain a bit of what's going on here.