Disclaimer: I don't own the Ghostbusters (well, I guess technically I own two shares of Sony, which owns Ghost Corps, which owns Ghostbusters…I wonder if that counts? Probably not. ). Anyhow, I'm going to again give a warning for violence and language in this chapter. Also, if you read 'One Day at Christmas' (thank you if you did), you might notice some intentional parallels to scenes in this chapter. More to come in the next few days.

4

The Truth Comes Out

She just couldn't get away from doctors.

Granted, Holtzmann would have preferred to be back with Dr. Menkin at a nice normal hospital than what she assumed was a secret research facility belonging to Homeland Security's paranormal defense division. She could also have done without being handcuffed to a gurney while the scientists tested her to see whether or not she was still under the control of Voga Ra'El.

She supposed, considering she had just built a device that generated multiple trans-dimensional cross-rips, their paranoia was understandable. Knowing that she had a two-day gap in her memory, a big blank spot during which she'd been under the control of the Vogaite cult and that psychotic chick Raina Chaix, was disconcerting at best. The blood-caked bullet hole in her pajama top wasn't doing much to settle Holtzmann's nerves.

She had apparently taken her shoes and jacket whenever she'd left Abby's apartment, with the cell phone tucked into the pocket. The Vogaites obviously weren't worried about her breaking from their control to call for help. She was still in her pajamas, but if she'd been building a machine for them, she must have been too busy to worry about her wardrobe. There were many days when Holtzmann ran around the firehouse in her robe and p.j.s because early-morning inspiration for a new gadget had sent her running for the laboratory without thought for getting dressed. Still, two days and the Vogaites couldn't at least give her a change of clothing? What happened to common courtesy?

The Homeland Security doctors traded information back and forth, ignoring their patient. Agents Hawkins and Rorke stood unobtrusively in the corner. Now and then, Hawkins would glance in Holtzmann's direction with something akin to an apology in his expression.

A dark-haired doctor with a badge that identified him as Fred Barnes was studying the full-body scan they'd insisted on doing when Holtzmann arrived. "Vital signs and brain activity are normal. It's remarkable-I'm seeing absolutely no traces of damage from the bullet. According to her medical history, she recently had surgery on her spleen and a severe head injury. There's no scar tissue or any other indications of those injuries."

She caught her reflection in the shiny surface of the gurney's guard rails. She already knew the bullet wound was healed and the scar on her abdomen was gone. It looked like the scar on her head had also been healed. Her hair had even grown back where the doctors had shaved the spot to stitch the gash. She was impressed that somehow the Vogaites had the ability to heal her of even a fatal wound, but still Holtzmann frowned. Damn it, she'd kind of liked that scar…

Dr. Fred's colleague was a petite red-haired woman with a slight Scottish accent. She was standing too far away to see her badge, but Holtzmann decided she looked like a "Brenda". Dr. Brenda was staring at several different monitors that obviously were being fed information from the electrodes taped to Holtzmann's forehead. "Her brain activity is normal…"

"You might be the only doctor to ever say that," Holtzmann told her.

She ignored the patient. "…no signs of paranormal influence. There are no readings from the standard psychokinetic energy meters, but let's try a multiphase spectrometer scan…"

"Here wait…I created an app for that." Holtzmann pulled out her cell phone, nearly causing Rorke to go for his gun until Hawkins grabbed the man's arm and frowned at him. The doctors turned to blink at the Ghostbuster, who raised her eyebrow. "What? You can make an app for anything nowadays."

There came the noise of an argument from the other side of the laboratory door. All heads turned when the door slid open to admit Agent Crosby and another ghost-Martin Heiss, seated in a wheelchair and wearing much more casual sweatpants and a button-down shirt, rolled himself into the room. He swept the room with his eyes, fixing Hawkins and the medical staff with a withering glare before his gaze fell on Holtzmann and softened somewhat. Considering the last time they'd met the Ghostbusters had let loose the specter who had put him in the wheelchair, she was surprised he wasn't glaring at her, too, or giving her the finger or something.

Dr. Fred stepped into Heiss' path. "Dr. Venkman, your assistance is not required here. We have-"

Holtzmann straightened up, startled by the name. She glanced at Heiss' identification badge: Dr. Peter Venkman—Director of Research and Development, Paranormal Defense Division.

Peter Venkman. This was the 'Uncle Peter' that Janine mentioned at lunch? The one who flirted with hookers in Times Square? The one who worked with Egon on his 'classified' work?

This was her parents' 'classified' work? Paranormal studies for Homeland Security?

Awesome.

Dr. Venkman/Martin Heiss gave Dr. Fred a smirk that was pure malice and purred at him: "You have my goddaughter chained up like a lab rat."

Holtzmann enjoyed the way Dr. Fred's complexion suddenly paled three shades lighter. "Can I be a lab monkey instead? They're cuter than rats and I could fling poop at these morons…"

Venkman rolled to a stop by the gurney. He smiled up at her. "Hello, pumpkin."

She grinned, partially from meeting another of her ever-growing extended family, partially for the joy of watching the agents and doctors squirming. "Hi, Uncle Peter."

Peter's smile curled into a scowl as he caught sight of the blood on her shirt. He cocked his head in Rorke's direction. Clearly, he had been briefed about the day's events before he'd arrived. "Would you care to explain why Dr. Holtzmann has a bullet hole in her shirt, former Agent Rorke?"

"I wouldn't mind hearing that story myself. Can't remember a thing," Holtzmann said.

Rorke was defensive. "Dr. Holtzmann was under the control of a malevolent spectral entity. Our procedure clearly states that all necessary measures will be taken to prevent an Apocalypse-level event-"

"Necessary measures! There were Ghostbusters on the scene!" Venkman snapped.

"The Ghostbusters are not qualified to determine-"

If Peter's eyebrows arched any higher, they'd end up on the back of his head. "-what constitutes an Apocalyptic event? Yeah, I think they are! And I'm a Ghostbuster, are you going to shoot me if I get possessed, too?"

Holtzmann's mind was reeling. A Ghostbuster? Uncle Peter? And if her father and uncles had worked with Peter…

Peter was red-faced with the force of his fury. "Or did you forget that just like you forgot that the Ghostbusters are our allies? That we were the Ghostbusters back when Homeland Security was just a twinkle in President Bush's eye? Let me give you some advice: Don't crap in the hand that pulls your ass out of the fire!"

"I don't know what that means, but I am so going to Tweet that…as soon as I'm someplace where my phone gets bars," Holtzmann decided.

The door hissed open again and a balding man in a dark suit quietly slipped into the room. Holtzmann recognized him even before the agents present tensed to attention. Director Harmon Fosse discreetly nodded to Rorke and Hawkins.

Peter recognized the implicit consent from the Director of Homeland Security. Venkman snapped at Rorke: "Cuffs. Now."

Seething, Rorke obediently moved to remove the handcuff from Holtzmann's wrist…rather surprised to find that she'd already freed herself while the others were arguing. "What?" She blinked. "I built a nuclear reactor. I can pick a lock. It's not even difficult."

Fosse seated himself on the corner of a lab table. "What you don't seem to comprehend, Dr. Venkman, is that there are deeper concerns than whatever relationship you have with Dr. Holtzmann or your past affiliation with the Ghostbusters." If he was upset that the original Ghostbusters' classified existence was now revealed to their current counterparts, Fosse chose to table that issue for the moment. "This the twenty-first century, it's a new world. We have to take a more global view of the threat that these women present, and your quote-unquote 'goddaughter' is the most dangerous of all of them."

Peter's tone went from fire to ice. "What 'threat'?"

The Director elaborated: "Did it escape your attention that she constructed multiple, portable nuclear accelerators and a portable nuclear reactor essentially out of dumpster scraps? Or that her accomplishments have been tweeted, blogged, and posted on every form of social media that exists? What do you imagine ISIS or Al-Queda could do with that kind of tech? Hell, she created a black hole with the CERN collider-"

Holtzmann had to correct him. "Almost created a black hole. 'Cause if I'd actually created one, we'd be dead right now."

"-and a malevolent spectral entity just caused her to build a device that created a…what did you call it?"

Venkman and Holtzmann answered in unison. "Trans-dimensional cross-rip."

Fosse nodded. "So, when I say 'threat', you need to take me seriously. People found it entertaining when you and your friends ran around with ray guns shooting ghosts thirty years ago, but it's a different world now. Dr. Holtzmann is on the list of scientists that terrorist cells are most interested in kidnapping. Did you know that? We've heard the chatter. It seems she's also on that same list for the spectral world."

"With that in mind, we have certain protocols in place to prevent her from being used against this country and humanity, orders that supersede your authority here." Rorke felt compelled to join in…if only because he was the one who had enforced said protocols in the confrontation with Raina Chaix and Voga Ra'El. Hawkins had the grace to look regretful, at least.

Peter comprehended it...and, if possible, he was more furious than before. "Jillian, we're leaving."

Fosse held up a hand to halt them. "There are conditions for her release, Dr. Venkman. The Vogaite device that you built—" He nodded at Holtzmann. "-as well as its power source will remain under guard in this facility for our scientists to analyze its function."

Holtzmann didn't care for that at all. She might have created it under Voga Ra'El's influence, but damn it, that machine was still one of her creations and she didn't share her toys with government pinheads. "I may not be able to remember doing it, but if I built that machine, I can reverse engineer it-"

Fosse was intractable. "Dr. Holtzmann, we still don't know if you are under Voga Ra'El's influence. Until you can be cleared, you will not have access to the Vogaite weapon. You will have an agent assigned to you—for your protection-until we can determine that the Vogaite cult is no longer a threat. Yates' apartment will be secured as well. You will not have access."

Holtzmann was confused. She looked at Peter. "Abby's apartment?"

Hawkins was the one who answered. "You did a little bit of physics homework there while you were under the Vogaites' control."

Peter made a bitter grunt in his throat. Holtzmann was getting a little miffed herself. "I want to stay on this case." She looked at the agents in the corner. "Hawkins, talk to him."

Rorke made a comment under his breath that was not lost on his partner. Hawkins snapped at him. "You got something to say, Rorke? Because I'm not crazy about your methods of 'securing' our assets, and these women are still assets, not threats..."

"You've spent too much time with them the last few weeks playing bodyguard for the blonde, Hawkins. You've lost perspective," Rorke answered quietly, trying to rebuke his partner without the other people in the room overhearing.

"Say that again?" It wasn't a question, it was Hawkins warning the other agent to choose his next words with care.

"I'm saying, get your shit in order," Rorke clarified. "You like these women? You want to strap on a proton pack and ghost hunt with them? You want to screw the blonde maybe? Fine. Get a transfer to another department and let an agent with more objectivity step in. We can't let these women run off-leash forever. We're funding their work, and they're acting like an independent entity. Refusing to share technology, barely cooperating about reporting their activities to us. We can't have civilians running around the city with nuclear weapons and no oversight. We damn sure can't have their weapons falling into the hands of Isis or Al-Qaeda. Sooner or later, they're going to have to officially come into the department-for their safety and national security. You know that."

Holtzmann stuck her arm beneath her top to give Rorke the finger through the bullet hole. Venkman spoke up: "You guys realize we can still hear you, right?"

Hawkins was practically nose-to-nose, toe-to-toe with the other agent. "My objectivity is the reason that we still have four living assets. I don't go around using deadly force on our consultants when it isn't necessary. My objectivity tells me that Dr. Gilbert is the only physicist remotely qualified to help with the math riddle that the Vogaites left in Dr. Yates' apartment-and if the Vogaite clan should make another run at ending the world, we're going to need to understand that math to understand their plan. My objectivity tells me that since you put a bullet in Dr. Holtzmann a couple of hours ago, under orders from this department, I'm probably the only agent who has any chance of fostering the Ghostbusters' cooperation right now."

"He's not wrong about that," Holtzmann agreed.

Rorke smirked, challenging Hawkins: "The Ghostbusters are now aware of the existence of their predecessors. Who let that classified cat out of the bag, Agent Hawkins?"

Hawkins faltered. Rorke nodded, triumphantly.

Hawkins addressed Director Fosse. "If you disagree with my assessment of the situation, Sir, please feel free to take me off the case."

Fosse shook his head. "I don't think that's necessary, Agent Hawkins. I'll authorize Dr. Gilbert to work on the equations, but I still want Dr. Holtzmann kept away from the Vogaite technology until Dr. Stantz and Dr. Venkamn can verify she's no longer under the Vogaite's influence. I'll expect you to assign an agent to the firehouse and Dr. Holtzmann as a precaution."

Holtzmann supposed that was the best compromise she was going to get for the time being. She didn't feel like she was under spectral influence, but hell, even she wasn't one hundred percent sure. Besides, Erin would tell her everything about the Vogaite equations first chance she got.

GBGBGBGBGB

Peter and Holtzmann, escorted by the agents, moved from the laboratory down the hallway to a waiting area where the Ghostbusters, Ray, Winston and Janine had been pacing since their arrival at the facility. The group rushed to hug Holtzmann.

Janine was first, still cringing at the dried blood. "Jillian! Peter, thank you!"

"The classified work you couldn't tell me about was Ghostbusting?" Holtzmann asked her. "That is…so awesome!"

"Yeah. Awesome." Patty was frowning at her 'Uncle Bill'. "We're still going to have a long talk about this later," she told him.

Ray saw the look on Peter's face. He knew that look; he just hasn't seen Peter look that angry since, well probably not since Egon died. "What?"

"The Hardy Boys issued a DX-4 order."

Hawkins protested, "That wasn't us-"

Abby remembered Rorke had mentioned that right before he'd shot Holtzmann. "Hey, that's right-you still haven't explained that to us."

The senior Ghostbusters were trading grim looks; Janine looped her arm through her daughter's and stared down Hawkins.

Holtzmann broke the silence: "What's a DX-4 order? Uncle Peter? Uncle Peter, what's a DX-4 order? What's a DX-4 order, Uncle Peter? Uncle Peter, what's a DX-4 order?"

Hawkins asked Rorke. "You wanna field that one?"

"Not really," Rorke admitted.

Peter supplied: "Homeland Security seems to think that there are too many corporeal and non-corporeal bad guys who are interested in your inventions. A DX-4 order is standing authorization to make sure that you and your particular skills don't fall into the wrong hands…corporeal or non-corporeal…by any means necessary."

Holtz again played with the hole in her shirt, this time pondering the situation. Janine and the other Ghostbusters were are about to burst a blood vessel. Abby blanched, trying lamely to joke, "I guess it's too late to put that cat back in the bag?"

Erin asked, "What the hell, Hawkins?"

Hawkins answered, "I don't condone what happened on that roof, Erin. But you have to try to see the other side of the argument. A nuclear engineer of Holtzmann's caliber-well, there aren't any other nuclear engineers of her caliber…"

Holtzmann grinned. "That's true."

"...is a tempting target for any terrorist cell looking to create a portable nuclear weapon. Same for Dr. Gilbert and Dr. Yates. I told you before that you have to be more careful, maybe think about officially coming into Homeland Security so that we can protect you the right way."

Patty snorted, "Protect us? We prevent the Apocalypse and they decide it's okay to whack Holtz whenever they feel like it 'cause she's some kind of threat? Hell no!"

Holtzmann had to agree. "I told you before, Hawkins, I'm not going to be a weapons' contractor."

"That's not what I'm saying."

"It's the end result! I come aboard and anything I create belongs to the government!"

Abby added, "Patty and Holtz are right. I say we tell them to go screw themselves and open up shop someplace else."

Erin had been silently processing all the information, but now she blinked. "Abby, what are you saying?

"They tried to kill Holtz! How do we trust them now? I'm saying we should go back to the private sector. We make enough money on calls to fund most of our research without the government's help. We have invitations from dozens of cities all over the country asking for us to open branch offices of the Ghostbusters-Detroit, Boston, San Antonio, New Orleans-got to be lots of work there-Tallahasse, Ontario-okay, that one's technically Canada-Lansing, Las Vegas-there's got to be some supernatural explanation for that city. We have options."

"Abby, it's Homeland Security. Where are we supposed to move that they won't find us?" Erin pointed out.

"We definitely can't go to Switzerland," Holtzmann cracked.

"Canada it is then," Abby said.

Patty was more reluctant. "And what? Leave our families? Our friends?"

Hawkins hated to mention it, but they had to be prepared for reality. "You may not have a choice."

Patty demanded, "What does that mean?"

"The nature of Drs. Stantz and Venkman's and Mr. Zeddemore's work was classified. They weren't supposed to reveal any of it to you. Director Fosse isn't going to buy the "they guessed' garbage. You might have to make a deal with him to keep him from investigating to figure out who to charge with treason."

"They can charge me. I don't care," Janine said. She'd have done the same thing a hundred times over to keep her daughter safe.

Erin tried to reason with her friends, but once Abby's temper got going, she was hard to slow down. "There's a bigger picture here. If terrorists really have us on their kidnap list, we're safer here with Homeland Security-"

Patty shook her head. "Safer? With the Disco Boys?"

"Yeah, no offense but I doubt these guys could stop an oncoming glacier." Holtzmann glanced at Hawkins. "No offense."

"How do I not take offense at that? You're not going to like this either. Holtzmann is still banned from working on the Vogaite tech. The device and the Eye of Tezcatlipoca are going to remain here, and Dr. Yates' apartment is off limits."

"I can't go back to my own house?!" Abby threw up her hands. Great, now she was homeless.

Hawkins understood her feelings. "I'm sorry, I tried to change the Director's mind. I did convince him that Dr. Gilbert is the best qualified to analyze the Vogaite equations. We'll also be assigning an agent to guard the firehouse. I'll be sticking around, too, just to make sure those freaks don't make another run at grabbing Dr. Holtzmann."

Somehow, Janine hadn't thought about that possibility in her concern for getting Jillian out of the government's grasp. "You think they're coming after her again?"

Hawkins answered, "Voga Ra'El is contained. Raina Chaix is dead. But without knowing the purpose of that machine Holtzmann built, it's hard to know if we've shut down their plans or just inconvenienced them for a while."

"How are we going to know the purpose of that machine if you won't let Holtz look at it?" Abby snapped.

Erin tried to calm her again. "Abby-"

Abby whirled on her. "Seriously! You can't be thinking of agreeing to this!"

"They already confiscated the machine. What do you want me to do?" Erin countered.

She was somewhat surprised when Holtzmann agreed. "The equations obviously connect to the machine. If Erin's working on them, we have a better chance of figuring this out."

Abby still balked. "So what? We keep working with them and hope that the next time one of us gets possessed they don't shoot us in the head?"

Erin had that look in her eyes that she got when presented with a puzzle she couldn't resist. Abby knew that look. Abby figured Holtzmann was probably dying (pardon the expression) to know about that machine. She'd be plying Erin for every scrap of information about the equations. The two of them got too obsessed for their own good.

Ray noticed that Janine looked like she was quietly freaking out, probably at the mental image of someone shooting her daughter in the head after what happened on the roof. He cleared his throat. "I have something back at my lab that might help Jillian recover her memory…"

"Ray, don't-" Janine started.

"…but I have to warn you, it's highly experimental and highly dangerous."

Holtzmann grinned ear-to-ear. "You're singing my song, Ray."

GBGBGBGBGB

"So, when I saw that ghost in the subway and you said I should go talk to Holtzy, you were hoping this whole Ghostbuster thing would happen?"

Hawkins was driving the group-except Erin, who was on her way to the firehouse to put Voga Ra'el into the containment unit before she drove over to Abby's apartment, and Peter, who still wasn't up to the exertion of a long outing-to a warehouse in the Red Hook district just past the recreational area.

Patty was still puzzling out the new information about her adopted Uncle. All she was coming up with were more questions. How had he kept the Ghostbusters a secret so long? What else hadn't he told her? If Patty was his adopted 'niece' and Holtzmann was his adopted 'niece', did that mean that Patty and Holtzmann were now officially cousins? If so, Patty was going to have to pass along Abby's warning about keeping Holtz away from cooking utensils during family reunions.

Winston had discreetly taken a seat up front, out of Patty's reach in case she didn't feel like being reasonable. "It was already happening. I saw Abby and Jillian's posts about the Aldridge Mansion. Truthfully, Patty, I sent you because I knew if Jillian was going to start chasing ghosts, I could trust you to keep her safe."

It wasn't the answer Patty had been expecting. In fact, she felt rather flattered, which made it difficult to stay mad at him. "Oh. Well…thank you. But you could have told me you were into this ghost hunting stuff."

Ray had been waiting for that question, so he jumped in. "We couldn't. After September 11th, when Homeland Security was formed, they expanded the department to include security against paranormal threats. They absorbed the Ghostbusters into the agency, and we officially became part of the paranormal defense division. All our work became classified, which was why most of it was scrubbed from the Internet. Except for the dark net, of course, we're still really popular there." Ray could have made a living off convention guest appearances if his work hadn't been officially classified.

At the time that they had agreed to become part of the government agency, Ray had just lost Carla in the terrorist attacks and had a son depending on him. The last thing he wanted was for Ryan to become an orphan. Winston was more than ready to give up the chase, had been ready since they'd lost Egon.

Peter had been more reluctant to join in what he'd called "selling out". A few years later, Dana Venkman gave birth to her late-life 'miracle child', and Peter became a stay-at-home father for a while before accepting a consulting job, dividing his time between research and development and investigating claims of paranormal activity as "Martin Heiss". His recent accident at the Ghostbusters' headquarters had convinced him it was time to accept the safer job as Director of Research and Development.

Ray was eager to share with the new Ghostbusters, now that the secret was out. He continued: "That firehouse? The reason it sat vacant for thirty years was that it used to be our HQ. Our containment unit had a massive explosion and contaminated the property."

Abby was sure it hadn't been a coincidence they'd ended up in the same building. "And the real estate agent who showed it to us-"

Winston confirmed. "Friend of Peter's."

"Of course."

Holtzmann wasn't too bothered by the fact that her 'uncles' had been quietly keeping tabs on her. Janine had already explained her reasons for staying away, and what was done was done. She was more interested in comparing notes with the senior hunters. "What happened? How'd the containment unit breach? Just so I know what to watch out for?"

Ray frowned at the memory. "Idiot bureaucrat turned off the power grid."

Patty gaped. Shutting off the power could do that? "Wait-the containment unit could explode? Holtz, you need to tell us things like that!"

Holtzmann protested, "I said it was highly unstable! Besides, I have a back-up generator and two redundant battery back-ups in case of power loss to the grid. As long as we don't lose all three at once, we're fine."

"We've been working out of a warehouse in Red Hook since we became consultants," Ray pointed to the building in question as the SUV rolled up to it.

They were down at a waterfront warehouse that looked abandoned and dilapidated by comparison to its surroundings. "Paradyme Imports" was painted on the side of the building, the words partially covered by grafitti. Inside, the warehouse was divided into three work areas (just as cluttered with gadgets and gizmos as Holtzmann's lab), a garage, and sleeping quarters.

What stopped the new Ghostbusters was the duplicate of Ecto-1 that was parked in the garage. It was lovingly preserved, but didn't look as if it had been driven in years. Abby marveled at it, despite being slightly unsettled by déjà vu. "This is—was—yours?" she asked Ray and Winston.

Ray beamed, running his hand along the hood of the car like a proud papa. "The original Ectomobile." He grinned at Holtzmann. "I was impressed how closely you replicated it, kiddo, considering you were only a baby when you saw it."

Holtzmann blinked. "I saw it?"

"You were born in the backseat. Your mother was pissed." Winston winced at the memory of angry Janine, newborn in one hand and rolled up newspaper in the other, whacking every one of them for waiting too long to get her to the hospital.

Patty shook her head. So, their baby girl had been born in the back of a hearse—or ambulance, or whatever this was (looked like a hearse to her)."This just explains so much about you, Holtz."

Ray had been giving this some thought since his goddaughter began building devices that were eerily similar to her father's. "With your I.Q., I'm guessing you have an eidetic memory. Spending your first six months around all this probably imprinted it on your subconscious memory. Plus, you are your father's daughter. Presented with the same puzzle and the same variables-specifically, how to capture and contain a spectral entity-it's logical and probable that you'd come up with a similar solution."

It was as good a theory as any, Holtzmann thought. "Wait, Egon built the containment unit?"

"And our proton packs. Maybe they weren't as elegant as your design, but technology was primitive by today's standards back then."

Abby was prowling around Ray and Winston's work stations, more interested in the photographs at the moment. "Is this Holtz?"

"I want to see!" Patty hurried over, followed by Holtzmann. They remembered seeing Egon's picture when Abby looked him up online after they got Holtzmann's birth certificate. Seeing a personal photo was something much more special.

Holtzmann asked Janine: "You said he died of heart failure from a severe electric shock?"

"Chasing a ghost that haunted the city's power grid." Janine had been silent for the entire car ride. Now, she settling onto a stool, still not looking happy.

Patty murmured, "Damn." The mood in the room instantly grew somber.

Ray let there be a moment of silence for his old friend before he pressed on. "Anyway, one of the last projects Egon and I worked on was a neural stimulator-it was meant to help victims of spectral possession recall lost time under the entity's control." He pulled a box down from a shelf and rummaged until he found what looked like a colander attached to multiple wires. The wires hooked to a small control box. Ray wiped a thick layer of dust off the box.

Winston grunted. "Except nobody who was possessed by a ghost ever wanted to recall the experience."

Ray nodded. "One slight problem."

"So, you don't know if this thing will work or melt her brain?" Patty asked, staring warily at the electric spaghetti strainer.

"Oh, I'm reasonably sure it won't melt her brain," Ray answered.

Abby repeated: "Reasonably sure?"

Abby and Holtzmann inspected the primitive device. It reminds Abby of the headgear used to execute people on the electric chair…but she didn't say that out loud because Janine was already looking upset. She looked at Jillian, whom Abby could tell was already mentally sketching out upgrades to the device's design. Holtzmann would have a new prototype within the week, Abby knew.

"Maybe it's not such a good idea. Erin's working on the math. She might be able to figure out what the Cult of Insanity was doing without you risking this." Abby knew Jillian would take her chances for scientific curiosity if for no other reason. Abby might have done the same in her place. However, it might be an unnecessary risk, and Abby didn't want to further upset Holtzmann's mother, who was already glaring at all of them. Truthfully, neither did Holtzmann.

"Finally, someone is talking sense," Janine grumbled.

"Here's what I think is the best idea: Food, a good night's sleep…okay, it's three a.m.." Abby winced when she looked at her watch. "At least, let's get some sleep…and we come back from a fresh perspective in the morning. Erin's got Voga Ra'El in the containment unit. First thing in the morning, we'll head to the firehouse and connect with her, see what she's come up with on those equations."

Patty nodded. "One addition to the plan: Beer. Food." She moved to the small kitchen area and rummaged through the refrigerator, finding Ray and Winston's stash of beer and a leftover bucket of chicken.

Abby squeezed Holtzmann's shoulder, physically guiding her away from the new toy and giving her a gentle shove towards the kitchen. "Come on. I doubt you've eaten or slept in two days."

Janine watched the others retreat for the kitchen before she addressed the dark-haired woman. "Abby, thank you."

Abby smiled. Despite her earlier misgivings, after everything they'd been through in the past two days—hell, in the past two weeks—the woman was officially okay in Abby's book now. "You, too, Janine."

Janine stood, still watching Jillian. "She's her father's daughter-in every way. I wonder if she got anything from me?"

Abby laughed. "Are you kidding? Janine, you've been scouring the city for her since she disappeared. I saw you put on a proton pack and face down an army of ghosts to save her life. I saw you offer to take the fall about leaking classified information when you knew Fosse could send you to jail for it. I haven't known you long, but I know Holtz definitely takes after her mother."

Now, the older woman smiled, cheeks coloring a bit. "Just believe me, Abby, she'll let her obsession destroy her, too, if she's not careful. I don't want her to end up like her father."

Abby put an arm around her shoulder. "Well, I'm not going to let that happen. I promise. Come on. Food. Now."

GBGBGBGBGB

Dr. Edward Strauss had become a pathologist mostly because he preferred the quiet of the morgue to the chaos of an emergency room or private practice. He had excelled in his field, indeed, he had his pick of opportunities at any hospital in the country. He figured that working in conjunction with the Department of Homeland Security was combining the two noble pursuits of medicine and government service.

Too bad he could never discuss his work with his family or girlfriend. His connection—however distant—to some of the agency's most famous cases would forever be unheralded.

It was especially disappointing today, when he was working in conjunction with the paranormal investigations branch of the agency. The woman lying on his exam table awaiting autopsy reported had demonstrated psychokinetic abilities and telepathic connection to ethereal entities. Dr. Strauss was already anticipating alterations to her brain structure, possibly to the structure of her cells, and he couldn't wait to get started.

He wondered if that was ghoulish. Since he was the only one here—the only one who was alive—he figured it didn't matter.

He sat at his desk, dictating his first notes into the recorder, with his back to the slab. "Victim is identified as Chaix-comma-Raina, female, age unknown, date of birth unknown. Initial cause of death appears to be severing of the Vena cava superior due to a projectile…"

A noise behind him-soft like the sound of flesh against metal—made him turn around at once.

He found himself eye-to-eye with a very naked, very much alive Raina Chaix. Eddie would have scream if his heart had not suddenly lodged itself in his throat. What the hell? She was dead. He checked every cadaver that was brought into his morgue no matter how many other medical examiners had pronounced them dead.

This was it. He was about to become the first victim of a zombie apocalypse. Eddie wished he at least had time to call his girlfriend and family and warn them to flee. His eyes swept the room, searching for a weapon, even as his fingers fumbled for the panic button on the underside of his desk top.

Raina Chaix remembered the bullet, recalled the pain of the life ebbing from her body and the elation that she was finally free of the endless torment of connection to the mind of Voga Ra'El. She had not been greeted with gentle white light or the warm embrace of long-dead family. She remembered fire, sulfur, and screams of torment…

…and then the presence of Voga Ra'el had found her again, there in the depths of the pit and fire. It had dragged her back, screaming in protest, until she finally saw light.

The light of the exam table when she opened her eyes.

She was back. Raina fought the urge to scream. No torment of hell was so agonizing as enslavement to Voga Ra'El's madness. You promised. You promised to let me go, her mind screamed.

Her mind was flooded with images in answer: The Ghostbusters capturing her master with their strange weapons; the bullet that killed the Architect and severed her connection to Voga Ra'El, the Architect rising up and shutting down the Bridge, then strange images of patterns of energy and light wherever Voga Ra'El was now. She could barely sense his presence, as if he were beckoning her from a great distance.

She briefly considered running away. Within his confinement in the magic weapons of the Ghostbusters, his consciousness was reduced to but a small corner of her mind…

…but a miniscule torment would still be a constant sliver of madness in her mind. Only death would set Raina free, truly free.

She turned her head to spy the human seated at the desk. A medical doctor. He failed to notice her until Raina Chaix sat up on the cold metal table. When he finally looked up, he nearly fell over himself trying to back away from her. He found himself trapped between Raina and his desk.

"Where is the Architect?" she asked.

The human was too panicked to form a coherent answer. "What?"

Raina stared into his mind. It was filled with absent thoughts of family, mundane daily tasks, notoriety for his pointless work, petty concerns over money, and fretting after sex with his girlfriend. There was nothing of Voga Ra'El or the Architect within his mind. He was useless. Raina broke his neck with a wave of her hand and quickly forgot him.

She was in a morgue, of course. Within the other drawers, she could sense more bodies and the presence of more souls. There were innocent souls being summoned into the light. Raina left them alone. Predominantly, there were souls still trapped in the torment of the violent moments that had surrounded their deaths, resisting descent into fire and darkness.

She summoned the specters, the souls the could not rest. The tore themselves screaming from their corpses. The specters had already begun to contort from their human images of themselves into something more beastly, the true reflection of the soul within. The beasts came to her like obedient dogs.

Raina waved her arm, ripping open the door to the morgue. Alarms blasted immediately.

The alarms did not concern her. She beckoned to the two new servants of Voga Ra'El's army. "The Eye of Tezcatlipoca and the Bridge are near. Find them."

The new ghosts gleefully hurried to obey, disappearing through the walls.

Raina stepped into the hallway. Her mind reached out, seeking what was left of Voga Ra'El's army, the entities that had survived the battle with the Ghostbusters. Their consciousness answered back, joyful at the touch of her mind, eager for instructions. She called them to her.

The humans of the 'Homeland Security' agency rounded the corner, advancing upon her with their weapons drawn. A few of them were disconcerted at the living, naked, former corpse that watched their approach impassively.

Agent Crosby was in the lead. He hid the shake of his hand. They'd warned him when he'd transferred to paranormal investigations to abandon any conceptions he'd had about what was 'normal'. He'd told himself he was prepared for anything.

He was wrong.

"Freeze!" He yelled lamely.

"Where is Voga Ra'El? Where is the Architect?" Raina asked quietly.

The words-the blue eyes boring into their souls-unsettled the armed men and women. Crosby felt her presence coming into his mind, probing for the answers to her questions.

He couldn't allow her into his mind. Crosby squeezed the trigger. Raina waved her hand and his bullet deflected back into his own chest.

The other agents opened fire, some of them taking refuge in doorways and behind trash cans as they did so.

These people did not have the answers Raina wanted. Their minds are panicked and uncooperative. She waded through them. The projectiles of their weapons were deflected away; the few bullets that found their mark left wounds that healed in an instant. She sent the agents flying—some into walls, some into each other, as she made her way down to a sublevel, homing in on the energy of the Eye of Tezcatlipoca.

Her ghost army appeared, falling in line around her, amusing themselves defending their mistress from the pursuing agents. A serpent ghost took position before Raina, psychokinetically breaking down doors and knocking aside agents who attempted to block her path. The serpent ghost led her to the storage area.

Yes, the Eye and the Bridge were there. She sensed it. It was simply a matter of determining which of the storage units of the sub-level housed her prizes.

The agent called Rorke was there as well. At the sight of Raina, he cursed, "Sonuvabitch-!" and fumbled for his weapon. Rorke wasn't sure how Raina Chaix could be alive, but then he saw Holtz die and come back. He should have anticipated Raina coming back, too.

"Where is Voga Ra'El? Where is the Architect?"

"Screw you," Rorke shot back. He was suddenly grateful Hawkins had taken Holtzmann out of the building.

The image of this human sitting in the helicopter, aiming his weapon at the Architect and squeezing the trigger, made Raina seethe. She raised her hand to snap his neck for the audacity of his crime-

-but he had useful information in his mind. Raina paused.

Within his mind, she saw the trap containing Voga Ra'El being wielded by the red-haired Ghostbuster. It was carried to an SUV. Rorke had attempted to get into the driver's seat, but the red-haired woman had sent him away in her own fury for his attack on the Architect. Another agent had been summoned to accompany them. Voga Ra'El had been taken to a firehouse. Raina saw its location.

Rorke had come into the building, to the storage area, directing other workers as they brought in the Eye and the Bridge…brought them inside and stored them in the door that Rorke was now blocking. With a wave of her hand, the door flew from its hinges and her ghost army moved into the room. Another wave of her hand and the Eye of Tezcatlipoca burst from its container and flew into her hand…as did Rorke's weapon.

With a sweep of her arm, Raina flung Rorke into the wall. He slumped to the floor. She'd intended to break his neck, but he lived still. She settled for squeezing her fingers into a fist, hearing the bone in his forearm snap in answer.

Rorke had not known the current location of the Architect, Raina lamented. Voga Ra'El could not control the Architect until Raina used the Eye to re-establish the connection. It would not be so simple this time. She could not catch the Architect by surprise now.

She might not be able to sneak up on the Architect, but there were other ways to encourage her cooperation…

With the human agents held at bay by Voga Ra'el's army, the new ghosts began removing the pieces of the Bridge from the storage room.

Raina formulated her next move. Voga Ra'El must be freed from his captors, who would need to be destroyed so that they did not interfere with his plans again. The Architect had to be located and retrieved.

Raina summoned the serpent specter. "Find the Architect. When you do, take me to her. Her work is not finished."

TBC...