Together they pulled the shutter open, and Abby watched as it clicked into place at the top, exposing a large open space that was mostly dark beyond a few feet. The Clone eagerly took a step forwards, oblivious to the possible dangers in his haste. Abby grabbed his sleeve and held him back. He looked at her in confusion.

"What? Are we not going in?" He asked, a soulfully puzzled look in the eyes that matched Connor's exactly. She couldn't help the smile at the clone's expression. She was feeling almost... fond of him.

"Yes, but we don't want to just run in there blindly, yeah?" She pulled two miniature torches out of her jacket pocket, handing one to the clone, who flicked it on and aimed the beam at the dark entrance. Abby did the same, sweeping the beam across the walls. "Okay, now we go in, but don't run ahead, alright?" The Connor Clone nodded.

"Right. Your Connor is waiting for us." He added.

Abby nodded in response, and entered, striding into the relative darkness, her torch held aloft so that the light cast its narrow beam along hallway. The clone paused a moment before following, and he sped up until he was walking alongside her, his own light aimed at the floor in front of their feet.


"Jess, is the ADD's signal okay?" Matt's voice fizzed through the coms. Jess scrunched her face in confusion, pushing off so her chair swiveled and slid over to the main screen.

"Yes, why?"

"The handhelds're acting up. I'm not sure why but i-s no-" fzzzsfsz. The coms fizzled, and then fell silent. Jess stared at the screen, eyes wide in concern.

"Matt?! Matt Anderson, do you copy?!" Absolute quiet greeted her words. A single moment of panic before Jess forced herself to take charge of the situation. She swiveled and hopped out of her chair, locking the terminal temporarily with a few taps on the keyboard as she walked swiftly towards Lester's office.

"Lester-"

"Oh yes, you do know I have a door for a reason, miss Parker, do you not?" Lester turned around as she entered his office, dry wit softened by his fondness for the field coördinator.

"No time! Matt and Becker split up the team to deal with the anomaly alert and rescuing Connor, and I just lost contact with Matt!" She told her boss, biting her lip. Lester seemed to focus on her.

"What? Did he say anything before you lost contact?"

"Yes, he said that the handheld detectors were acting up, but I can't see how the two things could be related..."

Lester frowned contemplatively, pacing around his office.

"I would say Helen, as the Professor once said that anything unexplainable was most likely Helen's fault. Only she's concentrating on her imprisonment of Temple..." He paused. "Unless she can be in two places at once as well as back from the dead, I would surmise that it's anomaly interference. Why don't you run some of your analysis things on that infernal machine of yours, and i'll go alert the special forces in the wings, alright?" Lester soothed her, gesturing towards the ADD. "Go on, shoo."

Ever since the events of Phillip's attempt at Doomsday, Jess occasionally needed that sort of reassurance. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he was fond of the whole team. He watched Jess as she nodded, having gotten herself under control again, and then made her way back to the ADD. He left his office, but Jess turned to look at him and then called over her shoulder,

"Actually, Lester, I'll just contact them over the PA system." He raised his eyebrows, let out a long-suffering sigh, and went back to his own office, where much less interesting papers and forms awaited him. He was concerned for Matt, of course. From inside his office, he could hear her calling the standby team of SFs together.

Why couldn't they have a calm day, where people didn't come back from the dead, his employees didn't get kidnapped, and there weren't clones of them running around?


Connor tugged at the chains again, harder this time, and grinned as more plaster fell. The bits of plaster falling onto his hands and lap had gone from little flakes to larger pieces about an inch long. The grin definitely had a triumphant air to it; there was progress. Connor knew that even if he managed to free his wrists, there was still the heavy door to his cell to get through. But at least it would be something towards freeing himself.

Another yank and he had to let go and flick away the plaster that had scattered across his hands. They were coated in white, and he rubbed them on his trousers, leaving dusty off-white handprints on the fabric. He hardly noticed, turning back to the wall with the same focused determination, though he kept an ear out for the sound of booted feet.