Two men- large, relatively featureless- were waiting for her, with black masks and dark glasses. They took her arms without comment, their grips polite for now, but firm.

Well, that was somewhat comforting, she supposed. Luciano hadn't ordered them to kill her outright, or their hands would already be tighter, ready to hurt. They were playing the game, then. Hopefully. Fuck, she was tired of thinking 'Hopefully.' "Hey fellas," she smiled. "You draw the best straws or just the tallest in your class?"

Neither of them answered, their eyes on the door. Luciano's voice filtered through, soft at first, but then the door was opened by another guard, who motioned to them to enter. The two holding her gripped her arms immediately with bruising strength, and hauled her forward. She dropped into the role immediately, letting her weight sag in her grip, letting her eyes deaden and glaze over. Letting the expression match the story the makeup told.

Luciano looked up as they entered, and smiled. "And here she is. The woman of the hour. Come here, Lorna, darling," he said, waiting for her to be dragged over before reaching out and taking her chin in his fingers, lifting her face into the light for the camera. "Can you say hello, dear? Your darling Vincent is watching..."

"Vince, don't," she said hoarsely, barely over a whisper. Her voice sounded dry and cracked. She looked at the camera, her eyes brimming with tears. "Don't, Vince. It's not worth it." Nothing like the 'I'm trying to bait a hero complex' ruse.

Luciano rolled his eyes, backhanding her lazily, though it was with enough force to bowl her back into the guards' arms. "Oh very brave," he chuckled. "But rather useless, I'm afraid. Vincent has already had his chance. This is just the result of that choice." He motioned to the guards. "Strap her down." Lorna was dragged over to the wooden block and forced down to kneel in front of it.

Her jaw ached where he'd struck her, and despite herself the fear came rushing in all at once. They pushed her head onto the block and she let herself cry but didn't fight besides trying to yank away from their grip and failing. She said nothing. Whether Luciano killed her now or not was no longer in her hands - she had to commit. Not that she'd be able to fight out of this room, anyway. God, she hoped he was just doing this for the camera. Sebastian couldn't be the widower of a woman who'd been beheaded so easily .

Leather straps were cinched down over her wrists, and one was crossed under her arms and across her back, and tightened until it kept her neck forced down against the dip on the block. The guards stepped back, and one lifted up the ax, the sound of metal scraping against concrete filling the room as he hefted it. "Don't look away," Luciano said, stepping forward and picking the camera up off of its stand. For just a moment, his body blocked the view of Lorna entirely. He set the camera down again as a tech marked the time, and turned to Lorna. "And that's all," he said, motioning for a guard to unstrap her. "Well done! Excellent performance. Do you want to stay and watch the rest?"

Oh, thank God, she thought, slapping a highly amused smile on her face instead of the relief she felt. "I would, actually. Love me a beheading."

"Excellent," he said with an approving smile. "Oh, and don't mention the actual beheading to her. She believes it is fake. We'll have you voice things over once we edit it all together."

He motioned the guards, and they left again, presumably to get her double.

"Oh, very fun," she laughed, clapping her hands together twice in faux excitement. She was a little busy getting over her on fear to revel in someone else's.

The woman who was brought in did look surprisingly like Lorna. Makeup was a wonderful thing, and her wig and body type were excellent. She looked up at Luciano and Lorna, and nodded a greeting as she walked over to kneel in front of the block. One of the guards set about strapping her down.

"What's your name, beautiful?" Lorna called from the side, voice friendly. "You'll have steady work after this with me, believe me!"

The woman turned her head to the side slightly as she was strapped down, and gave Lorna a smile. "Alice," she said, shifting slightly to get more comfortable as the straps tightened. "And I'd like that. I've heard about you in the field- everyone has."

Lorna smiled. Shame this woman was about to be executed. "I'm flattered. I look forward to seeing you work, Alice."

The woman smiled, then closed her eyes, turning her head back and working to settle into the role. She looked back to Lorna, her neck dragging slightly against the wood. "Would you say anything? Do anything in particular?"

She shook her head a little. "Nothing. You are playing a broken woman. Have fun with it."

She nodded, turning her head back, her posture slumping gradually, leaning tiredly into the straps. Luciano waited for a moment until it was clear she was ready, then walked back in front of the camera, picking it up at the same angle he'd been before, waiting for the video director to shift him a few times, comparing him to the frame they'd chosen to use as their transition, then nodded, positioning the guards as well and motioning for Lorna to join him behind the camera. He counted down with his fingers, and started recording on the camera.

Luciano spun with the turn he'd begun before, turning it on 'Lorna'. It was an impressive scene, he reflected. The woman looked remarkably like the woman standing behind him. He almost believed it himself. The guard hefted the ax.

"Well, Ms. Harrison? Any final words?"

The woman shook her head, limp hair obscuring her eyes just a little, though a tear dripped down to the cement floor beneath her.

Nice touch, Luciano thought, and motioned to the guard.

The ax fell with a chthunk , and the head hit the floor a moment later, blood fountaining out with impressive gusto onto the floor.

Lorna watched impassively. She almost felt sorry for Alice - but didn't, really. The woman was working for Luciano, after all. She smiled a little as the blood trickling across the floor almost reached her feet. "Well done, signore. I've been on a couple of video productions, but I think this one takes the cake."

Luciano nodded, handing the camera back to the tech. "It's always better when the effects are real," he said with a laugh, looking over at Lorna. "Satisfied that I don't intend to murder you, now?" he asked, amusement in his voice.

She broke into laughter. "Oh, absolutely not," she shook her head, but walked over to clap him on the shoulder once, looking down at all the blood with him. "But I can't deny your statement. Very impressive."

He inclined his head as the techs started packing up equipment. "It will go to editing now. I'll run it by you before we send it out, in case you see something telling."

"Good. I hope I won't, considering we just burned through the body double," she glanced down at Alice's body, "but good. Lunch?"

"Lunch," he agreed, offering her his arm. "And we can fix most things in post-production."

She took his arm, smiling. Somehow, even with the makeup making her appear withered and injured, she looked graceful. "I'm excited to see it. The sooner I see it, the closer I am to twisting that knife in Vincent's gut."

His eyes lit up in amusement. "I am looking forward to that as well. Do you want to clean up before or after lunch?"

She shrugged, lifting a hand to touch one of the prosthetic wounds, then sighed. "I should get this taken off first or I'll be uncomfortable at lunch. I'll meet you wherever you're eating, hm?"

"The balcony," he agreed. "Any preference? I'll get the kitchen started." He released her arm.

"Something salty. All this blood has made me crave it," she smiled, and headed for the door. It closed behind her, and while she wanted to sag with relief she walked casually and straight-backed, leaving no clue for cameras to find of her internal turmoil. That had been too close.

Aless and their crew removed Lorna's makeup with speed and precision, but even then it took almost an hour before all of the prosthetics had been lovingly removed, and the makeup washed away. Aless looked her over with an appraising eye, looking for remnants, but then nodded and then swept a hand. "You're done. Away you go."

"Thank god - and you, actually, I know removing this shit isn't fast under any circumstances," Lorna sighed, and her stomach rumbled audibly. "I'm sure I'll be back, so keep my seat warm, eh?"

Aless laughed. "I look forward to it. You don't fidget. Come back any time."

Luciano was waiting, as promised, on the balcony, a cool drink in hand, surveying his grounds. The sky was clear, but there was a bank of dark purple clouds on the horizon- a storm approaching.

Lorna wandered over to the table and poured herself a glass from the pitcher of whatever he was having, and walked over to stand by his right side. A conscious choice. "Enjoying the lovely view, or dissecting a thought?"

"Can't it be both?" he asked, absently swirling his drink the ice clinking against the glass. He smelled like rum. "I've been waiting to finish my work with Armetti for a long time."

"I know," she said simply, in agreement. "I was by his side when he told you you weren't allowed to do business in New York anymore. Guess you showed him," she murmured, looking out at the approaching storm clouds.

"You know, honestly, it isn't about showing him ," he sighed. He ran a finger along the wood grain of the railing. "Not so much as it is about completion. There was more to do to him. More that could be done, a thing undone. Now we're reaching the end of him, in any meaningful sense."

She leaned against the railing, turning her back to the view and just looking at Luciano. "You're losing your rival." She nodded, understanding his melancholy. "Don't worry, Antony. There's always another one. Believe me."

He tilted his drink to her in a lazy toast, and drained his glass. "Lunch, I think. I've asked for a spread. Cheeses, meats, some olives... We have a local place that makes an amazing Gorgonzola."

"Mm, excellent. Though you know me, I'm not picky," she smiled absently, and took a sip of her drink.

Luciano nodded in agreement, and then turned to walk over to the table, and lunch.

Keira sat in Moran's office- their office, now- and looked over the desk. It was relatively sparse. The last of the paperwork had yielded to digital files slowly but surely in the past few years, and now the only things that happened on paper were office pools.

The office itself was spartan, but they weren't surprised. Their father had never been one for excess.

He was officially decommissioned, and- they had checked- the first person to leave Moriarty's service alive. If alive could really be used to describe him. Even if Harrison came through, even if he did get the transplant he needed, and continued his uncertain trek toward remission, it would be months, maybe years, before he was back into physical shape. Though they hadn't said it out loud, Keira doubted he would ever be strong enough to resume his duties as Moriarty's bodyguard.

So here they were, the heir, sitting in their father's seat far before they had thought they would. The appointment could have been controversial. There were other, far more senior members of Hits that could have taken Moran's place. But when those senior members had considered the long line of decapitated corpses that had preceded Keira as Moran's temporary replacements, no one had chaffed too much. So they were head of hits with less than three years in the organization. They'd checked that, too. Also a record.

They shook themself out of their thoughts. Head of hits meant they had shit to do. They reached out to flip open the laptop in front of them, and started going through email.

It was buried in the inbox. Had come in around three in the morning the night before. An email from an unknown sender that had been sent to their tip line, cleared by security as virus-free, and forwarded to her for evaluation and assignment. Keira opened it with little interest, clicking on the video file. They got emails like this a few times a week. Some were interesting- marks they'd been looking for for a long time, finally slipping up enough to be seen, and caught on camera. But most were utterly useless attempts at getting the organization to deal with petty squabbles.

This email was a bit unusual in that it had no introductory message of any sort, but once the video started, it was very clear what that wasn't needed.

Five minutes later they were half-walking, half-running for the lift, and Jim's office, texting him the briefest heads-up, and that it was urgent.

There wasn't much that was urgent enough these days to warrant an immediate meeting. Sebastian was on that small list of things urgent enough - in fact, he was most of that list. But whatever Keira was bringing him could not be good. He read the text, and was standing in the doorway to his office as Keira came jogging up, his hand gripping the door frame with a white-knuckled tension. He didn't like that she was jogging. He also didn't like that she looked so concerned. "What is it?" he half-snapped - it wasn't Moran, was it? Wouldn't medical have told him?

"Harrison, sir," they said, stepping in uninvited, their laptop open, moving quickly to put it on the desk and clicking to the start of the video. "Sent in to our tips line. You need to see this."

Jim said nothing, just stood in front of the laptop as the video began playing. Lorna came onto the screen. He knew she was with Luciano, of course - the message from her friend there had sorted that out - but it appeared not everything was as in control as he'd hoped.

The ax came down and he felt a jolt in his stomach he hadn't been expecting. He clicked back to the start of the video, and watched it again. This time, he spotted it. The makeup was good, very good, and so was the double, but where he would have expected a shadow from the scar that had once marked Lorna's face, there was nothing, not after the amateur crime lord walked in front of the camera. She was alive. Or, at least, not dead from this particular video. "It's not her," Jim said, as he started the video again. "Most of it is, yes, but not whoever they killed." He was silent for a moment, watching the screen like a hawk, just to be sure. He had to be sure. "Keep this to yourself. Don't show your father."

They gave a short, incredulous laugh. "No worry there. I wasn't planning on it." They wanted to ask Are you sure? You're sure she isn't dead? But questioning was never a good idea. Especially not over something like this. They forced themself to watch the video again as he replayed it. Tried to see what he was seeing. "How do you know?" Safer question.

He tapped his own face, under his left eye, but didn't look away from the screen. "Harrison has the slightest divot in her cheek, under her eye. You only see it in the right light. It's from the former scar on her face, I'm sure you remember it. If they let us see her walk, I suspect we wouldn't see her favoring her right leg, where Moran aggravated an infected wound." He was silent again for the moment, as the ax fell again. "But above all else... She would have said something. To Sebastian, to me, to you. They might have censored it, if she had, but this woman is silent. Unlike our dear Harrison, hm?"

"Jesus," Keira muttered, leaning in to watch the screen more closely, careful not to get in Jim's way, studying Harrison's face as the video looped again. He was right. There was a tiny divot, just for a second in the dim light as Harrison was lowered down on the block. Then the man- Luciano?- crossed the screen... and it was gone. Otherwise, though, she was identical. "How the hell did they... Is it CGI?"

"Makeup as a base, maybe a deepfake layered on top. Dark shadows, messy hair, bad angle..." He shrugged. "It's not that hard. We've done it."

"Still... I never would have seen it." They shook their head, straightening. "I don't know how useful this is to you as an idea, sir, but whatever you have the patience to teach me about what you see, I'm eager to absorb." They resisted the urge to flinch as the ax fell again. "So what do we do? Anything?"

He looked at Keira for a moment, idly considering the benefits of trying to teach a non-innate-reader to see like he did, but moved onto other thoughts for the moment as she spoke again. "Nothing. At least, nothing until I weigh the risk of telling Luciano there will be no repercussions for him if he ousts Armetti. He won't be able to, but it could give legitimacy to Lorna's position there."

Keira nodded a little. "The risk being that it would make him suspicious?" Jim had turned his attention from the video, and they reached out to pause it, not particularly interested in watching the eerie beheading more times through than they had to.

"Not necessarily," he said, sliding his hands into his pockets as he thought, his gaze somewhere in the middle space. "He must know that I would see it, though it's hard to know what Lorna's cover story is. But we know about the feud between him and Armetti, and supporting his bid in that battle will lend Lorna some support, if her cover story involves me, which I assume it does. He may realize that killing her in actuality would cause my ire, considering this is when I'm choosing to involve myself..." He turned, walking away to look out the large windows, down onto the city below. "He's small fry enough to want my support over being my enemy. He'd be stupid not to, and he's not stupid, just low on morals. He's dealt with me before - for you, in fact - so he's got a pattern of making nice with me, instead of baiting the bear."

Keira stayed where they were, but listened carefully, turning the situation over. "Harrison can't have told him that she works for you, or he wouldn't have risked a video like this reaching the network, and risk you becoming an enemy. She won't mention Mycroft, either, that's just stupid. Most of the other organizations Luciano could check in with to test her backstory. She may have said she wasn't affiliated with anyone, or on the run from the network, or Armetti... that she was affiliated with us or Armetti, but wants out for some reason. He won't be able to check with Armetti- they aren't on good terms. She says she wants out and will help him get Armetti in exchange for help. That would explain the video trying to lure Armetti out. But this seems like the second video, not the first, so the question is why isn't Armetti already in Italy, or at least chomping at the bit to get there?"

Jim looked up sharply, turning to look at Keira. "We got a message from Harrison's inside man and passed it on to Armetti, telling him to stay put. But he didn't contest me. Keira, I want whatever eyes we have on America zeroed in on New York. He's up to something. And for fuck's sake, I don't have time to deal with him right now. Euros is still out there."

"Yes, sir," they agreed, heartbeat accelerating slightly at the thrill of making a suggestion that had interested the boss. "We'll have things shift gradually over the next week, unless you have objections. I don't want to spook Armetti."

"No, of course. He's wily. Treat him like the fox he is," he agreed. "I'll put a task force under your command. I'll introduce them personally, or you'll have to kick in their skulls to get them to listen to you. Normally I'd allow it, but we have bigger fish to fry."

They grinned slightly. "Yessir. It may be a few before I grow into my father's visual intimidation boots. But I'll get it done. I'll run things from here and get them positioned in America." They paused, considering variables. "Armetti has strong contacts in Italy. Should we monitor them as well? Or do you want to avoid Luciano's territory for now?"

"We'll tell Luciano if he can wrest control from Armetti, we'll accept him into the fold. But other than that, he's on his own. Avoid Italy. We have to look like we're above it all - if they spot any of our people there, they'll suspect we're throwing the game. It could put Harrison in danger." An aspect that wasn't supposed to trouble him so much. It hadn't always been this way, he was sure of it. He was supposed to be concerned for Harrison on Moran's part, not his damn own.

"Yessir," Keira agreed. "I'll also forward you the video. Anything else?" They closed the laptop, picking it up and slipping it under their arm.

Jim shook his head. "No," he said, then paused, still looking out the window. "Good work."

The compliment was unexpected, and unusual. "Thank you, sir," they said, with a slight incline of their head. They turned for the door, then faltered just a moment. "If I can ask... How is he doing?"

Jim turned his head slightly, away from the window. "You haven't been to see him?"

"Not in the last few days, sir, no," they said quietly. "I've been adjusting to his decommission. We don't have protocol in place for it, security-wise. We've been working to develop a new policy."

He let out a soft snort of amusement. Decommissioning had never been in the game plan until he'd become too attached to someone to just sever the link cleanly. He decided not to think about it at the moment. "He's doing terribly. Another reason to give Lorna as much help as we can give her. We need that transplant or his body will give out before the cancer gets him."

"Yessir," Keira said. What else did one say to that? They turned then, and left, a new fire under their ass to join the current inferno.

We're running out of time.

A/N

You may have noticed a pronoun change for Keira - we will address this in the future! Thanks for reading! Let us know your thoughts!