The clicks of Catherine's high heels echoed through the empty hospital hallways.

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She glanced over her shoulder. The loose strands of her ponytail waved behind her. There! She could clearly distinguish a shadow in the corridor behind her. A vague smile pulled at her lips. If this was the only way to get police surveillance for Joe, she was happy to help.

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She entered the dimmed room, which smelled of disinfectant and cheap washing powder and pulled a chair next to the bed.

"Joe …" she whispered, wrapping her fingers around his motionless hand.

"… I don't know if you can hear me …"

The only sound came from the heart monitor.

"… but if you can," she continued, "I am here."

From the corner of her eye, she saw shadows sliding over the glass in the door. A chair was pulled up in the corridor.

"I brought the police to keep you safe."

"Should we leave her in there with him?" officer Jim Mully asked.

His partner Will shrugged.

"She knows we're watching."

"I'm getting us some coffee," Jim thought up.

"Milk and sugar," Will commented.

Jim saluted with a smile and walked out the corridor to the coffee machine. He wasn't convinced that this female assistant D.A. was out to hurt her boss. Research told him they had been friends for years. Also, he couldn't get passed the lack of motive. So maybe she had a shady boyfriend she didn't want her clean-cut friends to know about. It didn't mean there was a connection with Mike Michaelson. Still, his boss had ordered the surveillance, so here he was getting bad coffee in a local hospital.

Something bumped in the storage room across the hall. He frowned. Was that a shadow he saw through the opaque glass? Slowly he came closer. Another strange noise. He pulled open the door and entered the room. Shelves were filled with towels, bedsheets and other linen. Everything was white: the walls, the tile floor, the drapes. The single red spot in front of his foot quickly drew his attention. He drew his pistol. There! The tip of a shoe stuck out from behind one of the closets.

He approached it, gun in hand. A body was attached to the shoe. He knelt to check the man's pulse – nothing – when suddenly a silencer was pressed against his temple. He looked up to face Mike Michaelson.

"I'm truly sorry about this," Mike said. "I never enjoy killing an innocent man."

Jim opened his mouth to comment, but Mike had already pulled the trigger.

"I'm glad you got to meet Vincent," Catherine whispered, holding Joe's hand. "We've been hiding for such a long time."

She sighed.

"We just wanted to feel like an ordinary couple for a few hours. I don't know it it's this city that won't let us or if it's us, ... me …"

She squeezed Joe's hand.

"… maybe I should find a job that doesn't put our lives in constant danger. Maybe you should too …"

In the corridor the officer stumbled off his chair. Instantly she got up, locked the door and pressed a chair against the doorknob.

A shot! The sound was muted, but unmistakable.

Frantically, she searched the room for any tool that might serve as a weapon. All she could find was a small pair of scissors, used to cut bandages. She pressed it against her chest and positioned herself between Joe and the door.

The doorknob moved. When it would not open, Mike smashed his foot against the door. Instinctively Catherine screamed. Another bang against the wood.

"Cathy?" a shaky voice called out from behind her.

She looked over her shoulder to find Joe had woken up. He seemed puzzled about his whereabouts.

"What's going on?"

She had no time to answer. Mike had smashed in the door and kicked the chair aside. A large pistol was pointed at her chest.

"Well," he started, "miss Chandler. It appears you managed to eliminate both the police and mister Maxwell, but took a bullet from a dying officer. Tragic scene. I'm sure it will make the news."

She heard bedsheets rustle and realized Joe tried to move.

"Don't you touch her!" he snared.

"You're in no position to stop me, mister Maxwell," Mike mocked. "Look at yourself! You're nearly dead as it is!"

While Mike was focusing on Joe Catherine rushed forward to stab him with the scissors. Although the sharp edge cut his arm, he did not drop the gun. He merely looked at the cut and laughed.

"I admire your spunk, miss Chandler," he said, "but I'm afraid it won't save you."

A darkness came over his eyes as he pointed the gun to her head. He hesitated for just one second. In that second the window broke. Glass splattered through the room and something big and muscular jumped inside. It roared with a deafening sound, the echo vibrating underneath Mike's feet. He was paralyzed. He couldn't even get his finger to pull the trigger. All he could do, was stare at the majestic creature that moved towards him, fangs drawn. It stroke him down with one blow of its clawed fist.