Whoa, this one took forever. Sorry for the wait, but I hope this makes up for it. Enjoy!

Disclaimer : The city of Metropolis, the Black Dogs and most of the Keepers belong to me. The other characters belong to their respective creators.

Countless thoughts were rushing headlong through Sam's mind as she and Tucker emerged from the armaments chamber, guns loaded and holstered. Being an Intel analyst, Sam had little experience when it came to operations like this; like everyone else she'd had basic arms training, but she'd been out in the field on only a few occasions and she didn't have the natural instincts of people like Mike or Dib. Personally she didn't feel comfortable with holding a gun in her hand either, something designed to injure or even kill people, but regrettably, it came with the job and she had to accept that. It was primitive, but inexorable.

Still she found herself unable to totally concentrate on the task at hand; reflections of Danny continually crept into her subconscious thought, harrowing images of him being slowly tortured to death within the confines of that chamber. She shuddered at what must still have been going through his head, all those feelings of dread and fear and anguish, not even remotely aware of what might happen to him if she and Tucker failed to get to him first. It was like what she'd discussed with Kimiko earlier; she'd never doubted for a minute that Danny was still alive, and she felt a little relieved when Double-D had confirmed that. But she'd had no idea that Danny was being secretly experimented on, and witnessing those inhuman creatures perform them on him felt like a kick in the stomach. What Double-D had warned them about was also horrifyingly true; the Keepers aimed to use Danny as some sort of secret weapon. If they couldn't decipher his newly-discovered genetic code, they'd sooner destroy him than let the Eurasians accomplish what they couldn't. Sam told herself she'd never let that happen, but she couldn't bear to leave him inside that prison any longer.

As they reached the staircase that led up towards Field Ops, Tucker veered to his left. "Where are you going?" Sam asked.

Tucker paused and turned around. "Over to Intel. I need to configure my PDA so I can hack into the lab's security mainframe and shut it down."

"All right. I'm going upstairs to find Mike. Meet me back here, OK?"

A nod. "OK."

While he advanced into Intel, Sam continued up the stairs and in the direction of Field Ops. She hadn't seen Mike since they'd drawn up the plans a couple of hours ago, but she would feel more secure in the knowledge that an experienced operative would accompany them. She'd expected to find her in her room, but she wasn't there. The search around the rest of Field Ops yielded similar results. Untroubled by this, she dialled Mike's cell and waited for a response, but the call cut out after two rings. She tried again, only for the same thing to happen. Now she felt a little concerned. The electronics and transmitters in the ceiling made sure that the signal wasn't affected by Division being underground. Why wasn't she answering? She called Double-D to try and find out.

"Edd White?"

"Edd, it's Sam Manson. Have you seen Mike?"

"Not for an hour or so, why?"

"I can't find her or get in touch with her. The connection always terminates after a few seconds."

"All right, stay on the line. I'll try and contact her myself."

"Got it." She pressed the receiver a little more to her ear and waited anxiously for a minute until Double-D's voice returned. "No, Sam, I'm not getting anything, either."

"That doesn't exactly fill me with confidence."

"Me neither. I'll contact Dib, get some people to search the building. If she's here, we'll find her."

"All right. Thanks, Double-D," Sam said before hanging up. What she'd just said to him was a gross understatement; she felt absolutely terrified, so much so that her hands were now visibly trembling. "Danny…" she whispered as images from the video flooded back into her memory, stills of every scream of pain…

As she went back to Intel to meet Tucker, she told herself to get a grip, but it did little good. If Mike had left her and Tucker in the lurch, what were they supposed to do? They'd have to manage by themselves, but how?...

Patiently waiting at her workstation for the requested data to appear on the monitor, Tootie Palmer glanced over the top of her computer as Timmy Turner passed her by again. He was always scurrying around the place, like a mouse in a cage, from Intel to any corner of the compound and back again. She smiled to herself. She preferred not to think it was love at first sight, and yet occasionally, she suspected it might be. Perhaps it was out of pity, she was unsure, but ever since Double-D had brought Timmy in all those months ago, cold, shivering and orphaned, she'd taken an instant liking to him. In some ways, the two of them were kindred spirits; her parents weren't dead, but they paid so little attention to her that they might as well have been. Her older sister Vicky was part of some youth military corps, and it was her terrifying presence in the house that eventually drove Tootie out. Somehow, she'd ended up at Division and back then, she didn't care if she had to do the most menial tasks imaginable; as long as she was away from there, away from Vicky, then it didn't matter.

On the day she first saw him, she went down to medical just to check if he was OK. Just viewing him sitting alone in that room, staring blankly at nothing, was too much for her to bear. Almost without thinking, she'd pushed open the door and asked him how he was feeling (it was a dumb question, but what else could she ask him about? The weather?) before tentatively taking a seat beside him. According to Timmy, Double-D had basically said to him that he'd be safe in Division, that he'd be among those willing to help him. At that point, she'd introduced herself and offered her support, which he gratefully accepted.

Tootie watched as Timmy delivered whatever message he was sent to give, and then as he milled around idly, probably waiting for his next assignment. Without hesitating, she called to him. "Timmy!"

His head turned in her direction, and she waved to beckon him over. "Hey, Tootie," he said quietly as he approached her computer. "Something up?"

"No, not really," she said, a little meekly. "Just wanted to…talk to you, that's all." She shifted in her seat. "I mean…if you've got a minute?"

Timmy shrugged. "Sure." Leaning against her desk, he asked, "What do you wanna talk about?"

"Well, everything that's going on today," Tootie said, brushing her hair back. "Those people up there, the people who've destroyed our way of life…soon they'll be gone. Everything's gonna be different…better, for all of us…"

"Really?" Timmy asked sceptically, looking up toward the ceiling. "It doesn't feel like that to me."

"How does it feel, then?"

"I don't know," he muttered, and he sighed. "I don't understand it, Tootie. My parents never did anything wrong, they weren't criminals or anything…why did someone have to take them away from me? I can't go home, because if those guys find me, they'll kill me. I feel like I've lost so much, and I just don't understand any of it…" He trailed off and looked back up at Tootie. She looked back at him sympathetically, and he felt a little guilty for venting this pent-up aggression at her. "I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head, "didn't mean to sound self-obsessed…"

"It's OK," Tootie said, softly laying a hand on his arm. "You're right…you've lost so much because of these people. No-one can blame you for feeling that way." Timmy sighed and managed a thin smile. Maybe it was because he felt slightly better now, or that he was here talking to her, but Tootie felt her own smile widen a little.

"All right, Double-D, I'll get right on it."

"Great, Dib. Thanks." Double-D hung up as he headed towards the area of the compound where their EMP bombs were kept. This chamber was very tightly monitored, both by computer-operated locks and armed guards, and such an important part of Division that even he had to obtain security clearance to get inside. If just one was detonated inside the complex, it could generate an electromagnetic wave wide enough to paralyse Division, and they could never afford for that to happen. He presented the guards with his clearance and let them double-check it before they allowed him in. A technician in a white-and-blue hooped cardigan came over to him as he stepped in the doorway, a girl named Lain Iwakura with a distinctive forelock of her brown hair that framed the left side of her face.

"Good evening, Double-D," she said, shaking his hand.

"Evening, Lain," Double-D replied. "I'm here to examine the EMP we need to use tonight."

"It's all set up and ready," Lain said, heading off in its direction. "Right this way." Edd followed her calmly as she led him between shelves stacked with various electronic devices and components. He liked Lain a lot, and thought she was an extremely valuable addition to their side. She was a very shy and introverted girl, but if there was anyone in the compound who knew a thing or two about electronics, it was her. Lain pointed out the one that matched Double-D's specifications. "This is the one of the most powerful transportable modules we have. We keep the more powerful ones here to purge all our data banks if the compound gets discovered."

"What range and time can it give?"

"This one can cause a blackout within a one-and-a-half-mile radius. If Cicatriz is directly above the epicentre, effects can last up to twenty minutes."

"Good," Double-D said, nodding his head as he weighed up the logistics, "that's very good. How's it programmed?"

"Here, I'll show you," Lain answered, withdrawing a screwdriver from her pocket and loosening the screws on a small metal panel. "Behind this are six wires, each coloured differently, which need to be cut in a certain order. This sets off a timer which counts down for three minutes."

"All right," Double-D acknowledged, kneeling down to look inside at the wiring. His heart sank – they had a problem. "Lain," he asked, "what colour are these wires?"

Lain gave him a bemused look. "Why? Something wrong?"

"Yes," he said, "I'm partially colour-blind." Lain looked at him as if asking for an explanation, so he gave one. "A couple of years ago, I sustained a head injury which must have damaged some nerves. I can still tell red from blue, black from white, but I can't distinguish between black and purple, yellow and grey." He mused on it for a brief moment; there wasn't enough time to change the wiring, and he knew that with everything else on his mind, he'd never be able to memorise the order.

"If you want," Lain offered, "I could come with you and wire it myself."

"In any other scenario, I'd agree," Double-D said. "I'm very grateful, but you've done some good work for us, Lain. I don't wanna lose you just yet." Lain smiled a little at the compliment, but Edd's mind was still daunted by the issue. She was far too valuable a technician for him to risk sending her out into the field, especially as she had no experience in field work at all. There were few other people in Division who he could really trust with a job like this, but many of them already had other parts to play in the operation. Except…

He got out his cell phone, dialled a number and waited. It was mad, it was dangerous, even deadly…but it would work.

Back over in Intel, Kimiko Toho heard her phone ring, and she answered it. Across the room from her own conversation, and unaware of it, Timmy and Tootie continued theirs, only to be interrupted when Kimiko came over.

"Sorry to butt in, guys," she said. "Timmy, I just got a call from Double-D. He's over in the vault where we keep the EMP bombs and he wants you over there. He says he'll meet you at the door."

"Oh, OK," Timmy said, a little confused. What did Double-D want him over there for?

"You know where it is?"

"Yeah. Down the corridor from armaments, right?"

Kimiko nodded. "Right on."

"OK, I'll get over there now." She nodded again in acknowledgement, and as she returned to her station, he looked back at Tootie and said quietly, "I'll talk to you later, all right?"

She smiled. "That's fine." He smiled back and headed off towards the South Wing, and she watched him go before she turned to her computer and got back to work.

The journey there was a little more arduous than Timmy had thought. He got lost twice in the huge labyrinth of corridors before finally coming out in front of a large, reinforced steel door. Double-D was there waiting for him. The first question that came to his mind was, "Why did you call me here?"

The door opened, and he followed Double-D through it as he explained the situation. "To set off the EMP, there's a group of wires inside the device, three of which need to be cut in a certain order. Unfortunately, I can't tell the colours apart, even with a torch." He looked at Timmy awkwardly. This didn't feel right, even if it was for all the right reasons. "I know what I'm asking you to do sounds strange and frightening, but I need you to come with me and cut the wires on this bomb."

As they entered the actual room, Timmy struggled to comprehend what he'd just heard. "Me? No way, I can't do that…"

"Timmy, I wouldn't normally ask this of you." Double-D stopped and kneeled down to look Timmy in the eye. "But I really need your help. You're a capable kid, and I don't feel there's anyone else I can trust to do this except you. I'm not going to force you to do it, but I could really use another set of eyes."

Timmy's gaze fell to the floor as he thought this through. It seemed so simple, but he still didn't fully understand what was going on. The prospect of doing something he'd never done before, especially something that could get him killed, was daunting, to say the least. But there was also a great responsibility in what he had to do, and how he handled that responsibility could affect how the rest of the day's events unfolded, for better or for worse. Double-D had done so much for him, though, and despite his fear, it was wrong for him to refuse.

Edd prompted him for an answer. "Timmy?"

Looking back up at him, he said, "I'll do it."

"Are you sure? Don't feel you have to say 'yes' –"

"I'll do it," Timmy reiterated, preferring to commit himself to this now before he had second thoughts. "I want to help you, but I'm just scared of what might happen to me, or you…"

Double-D smiled and gave him a hearty pat on the shoulder. "I knew I could count on you," he said, then straightened up and continued with Timmy back towards the EMP, where Lain was still waiting patiently. "To be honest, I'm no less scared than you are. But don't worry, you won't go in there by yourself. I'll be with you every step of the way." He introduced Lain and added, "She'll fill you in on what you need to know."

"You'll see this panel comes off," Lain explained, slotting the panel into place and removing it again. She shone a torch inside the EMP bomb. "Inside are six wires, and you'll need to cut the red, purple and black ones. It has to be in that precise order, or the connection gets severed." Timmy nodded to show he understood. "When you cut the last wire, a timer starts counting down on this display. That gives you three minutes until detonation."

"Three minutes?" Timmy asked. "But what if we don't get out of range in time?"

"No problem," Lain said calmly. "Electromagnetic waves only affect electronic devices, they pass through the human body without causing damage. Unless you have a pacemaker or something, you'll be fine."

"Think you can do it?" Double-D asked.

Timmy took a last look at the wires, then turned back to Double-D and replied, "Yeah. Positive."

There was nothing but darkness to greet him as Mac slowly opened his eyes. He could hear his blood pumping in his ears. This was no dream; he was still in the middle of the same barren, darkened room, and the coarse fibres of the sack that covered his head scratched against his face.

He didn't know how long he'd spent in the back of that van, but he'd been too scared for the passage of time to seem relevant. He hadn't moved a muscle for the entire duration for fear that one of those men would shoot him if he did. The only movement he made was occasionally glancing up through the small window, only to see cloud banks massing overhead. Eventually the van stopped, and his captors bundled him out and forcefully marched him towards a building. From what he could see, it looked like a large military bunker, its perimeter encompassed by a chain-link fence and watched by armed soldiers. Some had guard dogs, which they restrained as they snapped eagerly at his heels. They took him inside through a back exit and led him down some more corridors before they unlocked a door and shoved him through the doorway. The room it led to had no windows, and no source of light. Suddenly, everything became darker as they thrust the jute sack over his head. The men shared a few laughs; he was so small that the bag almost completely obscured him – only his feet were still visible. Then they sat him down in the middle of the floor and went out, shutting and locking the door behind them.

He tried to call out to someone, but the tape over his mouth muffled his efforts. He sighed in defeat and lay on his side. No-one had heard him, but there was probably no-one he knew who could help him. He felt isolated and lost, and so far away from home; for all he knew, he might as well have been in Siberia.

Just then, his ears pricked as he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, gradually getting louder and louder…then the sound of a door being unlocked, and then opened. Someone came over to him and whisked the bag off him. At the same time, a light turned on, temporarily blinding him, but unable to shield the glare with his hands, he simply squinted and allowed his eyes to slowly adjust to the light. The blurred figure of a man came into view, a man standing over him and watching him. As Mac's vision became clearer, so did the man's face; he had a chiselled expression, with deep-set green eyes and black hair. There was a scar that ran from just below his right eye down towards his mouth. Mac groaned, and the man's mouth curved upwards in a thin smile.

"Hello, Mac," he greeted him. "You probably won't know who I am. My name is Marcus Moore; I head up a group called the Black Dogs. You may have heard of them."

Mac's blood ran cold. He definitely had heard of them; if there was any sort of terrorist attack in Metropolis, the Black Dogs were usually behind it. And now he was inside their compound, and face to face with their leader. Mike, he prayed desperately, help me! Please help me!

"So…" Moore continued. "You consider Mike Masinski a friend, do you?" Mac didn't answer. "Do you really think she would jeopardise what she's planning, simply to come and rescue you?" Again, he stayed silent, but it raised a whole load of other questions. He knew Mike was involved in something, but she'd never told him about it. Whenever he asked, she changed the subject. But what did he mean by 'jeopardise what she's planning'? What would she be planning…?

Moore looked at his watch. It read 5:43 – plenty of time for Masinski to get here. Looking back at Mac, he said, "We'll soon see if you're right," before he turned and walked out of the room. As he tried to get his mind round everything, the lights went off, and Mac felt someone pull the sack back over his face. Everything became dark again as he heard someone slam and lock the door, and he was alone again. In the darkness, the dimensions of the room seemed to stretch out over an infinite distance in every direction, and yet at the same time, he felt trapped inside a glass box that was barely bigger than he was. He was too scared to start crying, but he hoped Mike could somehow understand as he silently begged her to hurry before it was too late.

As Double-D, Lain and Timmy made the final preparations for the EMP, Sam nervously paced back and forth in the dim light of the transport bay on ground level. They were going to be driven to within a few miles of Cicatriz, and then they'd be forced to walk the rest of the way. But their equipment had been loaded, Tucker's PDA was fully configured and their vehicle was almost ready to depart, and still there were no signs of Mike. All attempts to contact her had been in vain, and there'd been no word from her for an hour.

All of a sudden, a brighter light flooded across the floor as Dib opened the door and stepped inside. The first thing Sam asked him was, "Have we heard anything from Mike yet?"

Dib bit his lip and said, "No. We've lost all trace of her." He paused, and added uneasily, "She's disappeared."

"What do you mean 'disappeared'?" Sam asked desperately. "People don't just disappear! Tucker and I can't do this by ourselves. We need Mike, and we need her here, now, so find her!"

Seemingly unmoved by her outburst, Dib sighed and said, "I'm sorry, Sam. Mike isn't anywhere in the compound, we've looked everywhere. I know you're nervous, and if I could come with you, I would, but I can't. Just keep calm, keep focused, and you'll be fine." He headed back towards the door, but then paused and added, "Good luck," before the door shut and he disappeared.

Sam suddenly felt very scared; she hadn't done enough field work to fully understand what to do in this type of scenario. Without Mike, they were effectively blind; she was one of the more experienced field agents and, more importantly, she never showed any signs of panic. Mike was such a logical person, and that was why her sudden disappearance was so puzzling to her. But nevertheless, now they had no choice – they'd have to get Danny out by themselves, or the people who held him would kill him. She looked helplessly at Tucker for some form of reassurance, but there was none that he could give; she didn't feel comfortable with the situation at all, and judging by the contemplative expression on his face, neither did he.

"We'd better go," he said, gesturing towards the van.

Sam hesitated, then followed him as he walked across the bay. As the two of them got inside, there was a buzz as the shutter in front of them rolled up, and the van drove out into the dense forest, following a path until it reached the main road that would take them in the direction of Cicatriz. Sam looked out of the rear windshield into the indigo-blue haze on the horizon. Although the anxiety and fear still raged inside her mind, she realised that there was no turning back as the dense forest that grew over Division sank behind the hills and disappeared.