CHAPTER ONE

Echo followed Boyd up the stairs into Topher's office. She liked Boyd, he made her feel safe. She couldn't remember who he was but knew he was important in her life. She thought perhaps he was her father, but she also sensed this was wrong. Whatever his relationship to her, she trusted him completely.

She wasn't so sure about Topher. He seemed nice, but sometimes she felt that he didn't think very much of her. There was a tone he used that made her feel small. Still, it was Topher who gave her the treatments, and she enjoyed them.

"Just have a seat Echo," Topher said with his fake smile. "This will only pinch a little."

Echo took her place in the chair and lie back. Topher turned to his machines and did his magic; the treatment began. It pinched a little, then the world dissolved in soft colored light.

Lori Conrad yawned and stretched, having fallen asleep during her treatment. She blinked as she turned her head. The technician, a disheveled dweeb in a sweater vest, was looking at her awkwardly. These little moments were probably the closest he ever came to interacting with a real woman.

"Did I fall asleep?"

"Just for a little while," he responded.

"Shall I go now?"

"If you like."

Lori sat up and rubbed her eyes. To her left was Boyd, the bodyguard her father had hired. Father could have requested agents from the Secret Service, but he insisted that the taxpayers not pay for anything he could afford himself, and father was a very wealthy man. Lori liked Boyd, trusted him deeply, and knew he would always respect her privacy.

"Ready to go, ma'am?"

"I just need to change."

One of the spa's staff lead her to the changing rooms. Her dress, shoes and accessories had all been laid out for her. She took some time to apply some make-up and do up her hair. Normally she wouldn't spend so much time on such things here at the spa, but she had a date tonight and absolutely no time to drive back to Malibu. She really didn't know what she was thinking, scheduling a treatment so close to a date.

Once she was ready she met with Boyd in the lobby, and together they took the elevator down (or was it up?) to the garage, where her van was waiting. As Boyd slid the door open she wondered for a moment why father insisted she drive about in a surveillance van, but quickly pushed the thought from her head.

"Looking forward to your date?"

Lori smiled. She was looking forward to this date. Richard Cryer was quite the catch, very high profile, very successful, very rich. Exactly her type. It had taken all her willpower to seem disinterested and annoyed when mother had announced over brunch that she had arranged this meeting. Most of the men mother set her up with were dreadfully dull and blind to their short-comings, and it would do Lori no good at all to encourage her. Still, the thought of a date with Richard Cryer thrilled Lori. He wasn't just rich and powerful, he was richer and more powerful than her father. Lori Conrad was determined to marry upwards, and when you were the daughter of one the richest and most powerful senators in America, that was no easy task. It wouldn't do to explain any of this to Boyd however.

"One must have a positive attitude about these things."

Boyd nodded, and Lori thought she sensed a smirk hiding at the corners of his mouth. She put it out of her head, and focused on steadying her nerves. Soon they were pulling up in front of the Starfire Room. Boyd opened the door for her, and as she stepped out of the van she paused.

"Boyd, I probably won't be coming home tonight. If you must follow me, please be discreet. I don't want Richard being scared off by my security detail. I know father insists, but you had better not ruin this night."

"Don't worry Miss Conrad, you won't see me at all."

"You're a dear Boyd, don't ever change."

"Same to you Miss Conrad," Boyd chuckled as he slid the door shut.

Lori headed inside the club, which was situated on the ground floor of towering office complex, and mostly attracted up and coming financial types. Few A-list celebrities would be caught dead here, and while decidedly upscale the place was far from trendy. There was no line of people waiting to get turned away.

Inside the doors Lori found a hostess who quickly guided her to table in the back, where Richard Cryer was waiting for her. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach and her heart raced as she neared the table. Richard rose from his seat and came around the table, extending a hand. As he stepped forward he bumped into the table and jostled the glasses and other tableware. He paused awkwardly and turned his attention to the table.

Lori Conrad was in love. She was suddenly a little girl again, with her first ever crush – on Ichabod Crane in the Disney version of Legend of Sleepy Hollow. She could never have explained – or even admitted to – her crush on the gangly, awkward and bumbling Crane, but he had been her first love. Though she wouldn't admit it even under the most dire torture, she had even written fan-fiction featuring the character, slashing him with the headless horseman. Richard Cryer seemed to be that character come to life. He even had the same nose.

"Hello Richard, I'm Lori." She offered him her hand and he shook it limply, then pulled out a chair for her, almost banging it into her knees in the process. He was, in her mind, positively adorable.

They both sat and he poured her a glass of wine. They made polite small talk, he fumbling at his questions and distracted in his answers. Every slip and faux pas made her love him more. She felt so relaxed and confident in his presence, so certain that she was in control, that she began to let her guard down.

"I have to ask you, why this club? You've got a name that will open a lot of doors Richard, we could be enjoying ourselves at a much trendier place than this."

Richard blinked, obviously shocked by the question. "Oh, this place isn't trendy? I didn't know that. I own this place."

"You own this club?"

"I own the whole building. I have a penthouse here too, if you'd like to see it."

Lori blushed. "That's a bit forward, don't you think?"

"Oh no!" Now it was Richard's turn to blush. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying that I have a penthouse. And a helicopter. Have you ever been in a helicopter? It's...neat."

"A helicopter? Your own helicopter?"

"Sure. I use it to get to my yacht and back."

"Yacht?"

"I have a 400 foot cruiser out in the bay. It has a helipad. You should see it. I could take you there right now, if you wanted."

Lori bit her lower lip nervously. His own nightclub in his own building with a penthouse? A helicopter? A 400 foot yacht? Was there anything Richard Cryer didn't have?

"I'd like to see the yacht," she admitted nervously.

"Really?" Richard smiled and his eyes brightened. "Oh, okay. Yeah, let's go."

Richard rose and took Lori's hand, leading her out of the club through a door marked 'Private'. It lead to a short hallway, and from there to an elevator. As they stepped into the elevator Lori slid her arm around Richard's and leaned in close. She smiled when his eyes met hers, he blushed and looked away. She knew then that she had him.

***

Boyd leaned back in his chair, feet up on the console, and worked at the daily paper's crossword. Occasionally he would glance over at the monitors. Nothing of interest to report.

Dave (or was it Phil?) was driving today, and at the moment he was catching loud Zs in the front seat. He snorted and yawned, then turned to look at Boyd.

"Hey, I'm going to run across the street and grab some coffee. You want anything?"

"I could use a cup of joe. Black, no sugar."

Dave or Phil, whichever he was, hopped out of the van and disappeared across the street. Boyd checked the monitors again and noted that Echo was on the move, heading up towards Cryer's penthouse. Boyd checked his watch.

Girl moves quickly, he thought. Hardly had time to order dinner.

A few minutes passed and Boyd took a quick scan of the street from his window. Dave/Phil was standing outside the café chatting up an attractive young woman. He hadn't even gone in yet. He checked the monitors again.

There was something wrong with the reading. The Dollhouse satellites continuously tracked Echo's movement, reporting her exact longitude and latitude to the second. Accurate within inches of her position, as well as her elevation in feet. According to her current position she was seventy feet above the buildings roof, and directly over the street.

Boyd grabbed the portable tracker and hopped out of the van, throwing his gaze upwards. Sure enough a small commercial helicopter, the sort used by the super rich to avoid ground traffic, hung in the air. It circled the building once, then took off to the west.

Boyd slammed the door shut and ran around the van, leaping into the driver's seat and revving the engine. He tossed the portable tracker on to the dash so he could see it's signal and took off after the helicopter.

As he drove he dialed the Dollhouse. Dominic answered the phone.

"What's Echo done now?"

"Was Cryer authorized to take Echo out of Los Angeles? I thought this engagement was strictly in-city."

"No, he wasn't. What's he doing?"

"He's got her in a helicopter, heading west. I'm following in the van, but he's gaining ground on me fast. Wherever he's going he's going to have plenty of time once he gets there."

"West? What's west?"

"The marina? Does Cryer have a boat docked anywhere in LA?"

"Hold on."

Traffic was getting heavier and Boyd had to toss the phone aside and take the wheel in both hands. He weaved his way through traffic at reckless speeds, mindful of the van's poor handling profile, and wishing it were a police cruiser. Or had a siren.

Luckily the helicopter was in no hurry, and Boyd only had to break every speed limit and most of Los Angeles county's traffic laws to keep its running lights in sight. As he followed it he became more and more certain that Cryer was taking Echo to the marina. Boyd hoped it would take longer for the boat to disembark than it would for him to find it.

The van crested a hill and came down hard on its suspension, which groaned in protest. The marina stretched out below him, tens of thousands of boats docked in moors. Boyd already knew he wouldn't have to search any of them. Cryer wasn't taking Echo to the marina. His helicopter was heading out into the bay.

Boyd pulled the van over and picked up the phone. Dominic was angrily demanding to know what was going on.

"I lost her. He didn't stop, just headed out over the water."

"Dammit," Dominic snarled into the phone. "Just get back here."