A/N: I've got your update right here! There was a problem with the editing of documents, but it's been fixed and I'm back. You'll find out what happened to Gwen and DJ, and it will be elaborated on next chapter. But I'm psyched about the next two chapters, because the episode is my favorite so far. It was better than the bow-hunting scenario, but it contains a lot of religious content. Normally, I'd put it up regardless of what everyone thinks, but I'd still like an opinion or two. If you feel you'll be offended by the next scenario's religious content, I'll make up my own scenario. Just tell me in a review, 'kay? I don't think there's much to say, considering that cliffhanger I left last chapter, so remember to review, and disclaimer is in the first chapter.

Cody had just finished imprinting Bridgette with the same exact persona as Courtney's. Bridgette was now dressed in black everything, and Heather approached Bridgette.

"Hello Taffy. I'm Heather Greer, and I need your help."

"Blue skies."

"Most people would die to see this stuff. Now it looks like we're going to." Brad commented while Courtney examined the pieces of art.

"You shouldn't talk. How did you get that wound anyway?" Courtney asked while she looked at Sunflowers by Vincent Van Gogh.

"Don't you remember?"

"The last thing I remember is a blinding light. I was in my Honda Civic, leaving Harvard, and then—"

"Well, Peter, one of our accomplices, took off with our item, and he stabbed me with a sword."

"What was the item?"

"A piece of the Parthenon."

"Wow…where are we?"

"We're in a safe."

"No, where ARE we?"

"In Los Angeles."

"More specific please."

"In the Franklin Hotel." Courtney walked around the safe, looking at all of the pieces of art.

"I never thought I'd come to Los Angeles. I'm from Canada. I guess everything started when I got on Total Drama Island. 'It'll be great publicity when I run for office one day,' I thought. I was so wrong. Everything changed there. I met Duncan, Bridgette, all of those people. And then Chris. The bastard. And Chef Hatchet. It's been so long…what year is it?"

"2017. AGH!"

"It's been ten years? HURCK!" She collapsed to the ground in front of a Pablo Picasso painting.

"Courtney?!"

"Who's…Courtney? Is she here with Bonnie and Clyde?" An unforeseen side effect had occurred from the remote wipe: Courtney's personality was switching between her mind wiped state and her actual personality.

"Taffy?"

"My name is Taffy. I can get us out of here." Courtney repeated with a dull voice. She then laid her eyes on the Picasso painting. "This one's broken."

"Look who's talking. On the inside…so, you like art?"

"It doesn't look right."

"It's not about looking right, it's about feeling right, and you have no idea what I'm talking about."

"Yes I do. Nice observation…uh…"

"Brad."

"Brad."

"Wait, Courtney?"

"Yes? Uh…who's Courtney?"

"Aw crap."

"She makes me feel…funny."

"Courtney? The art?"

"Art."

"Well, that's because these other guys, they painted what they saw. This guy, he painted—that's what art's for. It shows who we are. This one is saying how we start out whole, and somewhere along the line, pieces start to slide. We get broken."

"That's sad."

"No, it's weak. You either get broken or you're the one doing the breaking. No mystery which way you went." Michael got out a drill and a few other tools out of a black duffel bag.

"Excuse me? I don't think that's any way to talk to me."

"Taffy?" Michael turned around and asked Courtney.

"It's Courtney. And we need to get out of here. What do we have to do?"

"Ten months of research. Blueprints, security systems, police response time. The Parthenon job was supposed to be mine." Bridgette circled Heather.

"Well now it is."

"You're running two ponies all along."

"It was the client's decision."

"Hey, I figured out on my first job with a little creative thinking on my part that almost got me not paid—never second guess a client—and wear comfy shoes. But I learned how to lap dance." Harold almost snickered at Bridgette's last sentence, but he kept his cool visually.

"We'll pay double your usual fee to extract the team."

"Getting sidelined by some GIRL at the last minute? My feelings are hurt."

"I assure you that Courtney is not some girl. She and you are cut from the same cloth."

"I've never had amnesia on the job, but whatevs."

"Three of your peers are locked in that vault with nothing between them and a SWAT team but you. There is no balm for a bruised ego like saving the day." Heather smiled.

"I'll need to see the cash."

"We're a little pressed for time—you under—" Bridgette's smile fell. "But of course. Harold, go and get the money. Now would be preferable." Harold bowed and left the two women.

"This remote wipe, it's not about creating five seconds of noise, he had to break into our system, which is impossible, get Courtney's cell number, he uh…"

"Or she." Blaire coolly responded while unpacking items from Cody's shopping list. "Tawny, don't eat that." Tawny was about to open a package of Neapolitan ice cream flavored bites, but set it down next to Blaire.

"Or they." Tawny added.

"It has to be a they. I mean, look at this build. It's not even science, its art!" Blaire put away the ice cream bites and closed the fridge. Both girls went to Cody's side to look at his computer. "You saw the firewalls!"

"Yeah, there's many Cody, we know." Tawny laxly dismissed.

"I defy another programmer to put that much neurotrophic factor in each and every personality component. This isn't a lone gunman. This is a conspiracy. A giant multi-pronged conspiracy."

"You need to take something." Blaire coolly commented and left to get some food for herself.

"You know, I heard Chase and Beth saying that Tyler might be alive." By this time, Cody was fed up.

"That's a fucking load of shit and you know it."

"Why don't you ask them? Then get back to me." Tawny left Cody to steal some ice cream bites from the freezer. He picked up his desk phone and started calling Chase.

"Yeah Cody?" Chase picked up his cell phone and answered, still keeping an eye on Peter, who was on the floor of the van.

"When you took Courtney out tonight, did she seem normal?"

"Thanks for the ice cream bites Cody." Tawny said muffled from the 10 bite size cubes in her mouth.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP TAWNY!"

"Jeez, sorry."

"Don't talk to my girlfriend like that! Cody, what the hell's wrong with you?! You know better!"

"Wait a minute. You don't know." Inside the van, Chase stood up.

"Cody, what the fuck is going on?"

"Courtney's been wiped—remotely."

"WHAT?!"

"It's not my fault!"

"I have to call you back." Chase started dialing Heather's office number and left the van. Peter couldn't hear this conversation, lest Chase wanted to be jobless. "Heather."

"Chase."

"I talked to Cody." Heather sighed in response.

"If there were anything you could do, I'd have you doing it."

"I didn't even think remote wipes were possible."

"Neither did we. You've retrieved the target item?"

"Yeah, I got it. So how are you planning on getting Court out of there?"

"We're working on it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I'm hopeful for a happy outcome."

"And if the outcome isn't happy? What then Heather?"

"Then you should prepare yourself, okay?" Heather hung up on Chase. Chase hung up when he heard the dead tone and walked back into the van to talk with Peter.

"The crew's access point to the vault, where is it?"

"It's in the security office." Chase picked up a pad of paper and a pencil and threw it to Peter. "OW! WATCH IT!"

"Do you think I care?"

"The place is a maze; do you think I'd remember?"

"Try."

"How?"

"As if your life depended on it, which it does. Get drawing." Peter was scared out of his mind (after all, Chase had shot him), so he started writing down directions and drawing a map for good measure.

"We believe with the right equipment you can get inside the building through the roof."

"Sweetie, equipment's not the issue. Gray hour ends in nine minutes. We won't even make it out of the parking garage. But, if this Courtney chick is as good as you say, brain fry aside, I don't need to get inside. All I need is a phone."

"I like sky." Courtney and Brad were slumped on the floor next to each other, looking at a landscape painting with snow capped mountains and blue sky.

"The blue kind. Yeah, I remember."

"That's a mountain."

"Yup."

"What's my name?"

"Taffy…Courtney. I really don't know."

"I think I'm…Courtney. Out there, in the mountains."

"Hand me that bag. Up on top of the crate." Courtney found a bag and gave it to Brad.

"What are you looking for?"

"A way outta here." Courtney picked up a gas bomb that Brad had inside the bag.

"What are you doing with this?"

"Courtney—Taffy—I wouldn't pull that pin."

"For the last time, it's Courtney. You know what, take it. There's no hope for us anyway. Not at the rate your buddy's going." Brad took the gas bomb from Courtney's hand and put it in his jacket pocket.

"We're not getting out. He's not getting us out, I'm not getting us out, and you're definitely not getting us out."

"I'm…not?"

"Aw crap, how do you keep changing like that? Whatever. They're going to open that door, and they're going to take us to prison." He pointed to his touchpad tracking the guards inside the complex.

"What's prison?"

"A place with no sky. We're bad guys. When bad guys get caught, they don't get to see sky."

"I'm a bad guy?"

"You are a talking cucumber—for now. Bye Taffy—Courtney—whoever the hell you are." Brad had been fiddling with some knockout liquid for quite some time now, and he was about to inject himself with it when Michael came to the two of them and took the syringe of liquid from Brad.

"Oh no, you're not taking the easy way out. I'm lifting the no kill order. When those doors open," Michael cocked a small machine gun. "We're shooting our way out."

"Imio Takahashi." Cody was sitting down, hanging his feet over the platform and forehead against the cool stainless steel railing.

"You think he's one of the prongs in the multi-pronged conspiracy?" Blaire asked him while she got out a red apple for herself from the fridge and two packs of barbeque flavored potato chips, one for Tawny and one for Cody. She threw the first one to Tawny, who was sitting next to Cody, and gave the next one to Cody when she walked up to him and sat down on his other side.

"Thanks Blaire."

"Yeah, thanks." Cody opened the bag of chips and buried his face in the opening.

"I'm not that addicted to these chips." Tawny opened her bag and popped a chip in her mouth. "However, you shouldn't entertain yourself with Cody's ramblings. How about doing something more productive, like getting me a juice box?"

"Get it yourself Tawny." Blaire sharply snapped.

"You two are so touchy today!" Tawny got up and went to the fridge to get herself an apple juice box. Cody lifted his head from the bag opening.

"He's always gunning for my job. He loves the beach—"

"Okay, you really think a programmer in Tokyo is going to remote wipe Courtney in LA just to steal your job?" A loud slurp interrupted Blaire and Cody.

"This Takahashi dude must be pretty stupid to do that." Tawny commented, and in a flash, she was sitting back in her original spot.

"He shows Heather his mad skills, suddenly, the Codemeister's not number one." Cody commented while eating a potato chip.

"Courtney could die. Not a good idea for career advancement." Blaire added.

"Anyway, Takahashi's a hack. There's only one person I know who could achieve a remote wipe—and he's dead."

"I told you, ask Chase or Beth. They know something, like, say, the fact that TYLER might be alive!"

"Tawny, that's impossible. Heather—" Blaire was cut off by Tawny.

"You know Heather's a lying snake in fashionable clothes! Always has been. Tyler…he's out there. And Cody's denying it."

"It's impossible! Those multiple imprints—"

"They mesh, remember? It means that Tyler has been planning this for three years." Tawny concluded a rare moment of her genius.

"Why? Why would Tyler do this?" Cody banged his head against the railing.

"Maybe to rescue Lindsay. Or, to rescue all of the Mankins." Blaire offered.

"No…he's out to destroy us. He's going to break this company; he's going to send all of us to jail." Tawny concluded. "I'd hate to be alive when that day comes."

"You do realize this only works if she picks up, right?" Bridgette asked Heather after trying to call Courtney's cell for the umpteenth time.

"Don't be smart with me."

"And don't be smart with me. That money's appetizing, but if you try to command me, I'll let your precious girl and the rest of the team die in that safe. I can always get new crew members and you know it."

"Just…dial again. Keep dialing—please."

"Can we go over the plan again?" Harold asked the two women.

"Nervous Nelly. He's actually kinda sweet—but not my type. The vault door contains a whole mess of glass wheel locks, if somebody, i.e. me drills through the door from the inside, the glass breaks. Presto, alarm goes off, whole other mess of locks are released. No getting out." Bridgette said while another unsuccessful call came about.

"You bypass the glass."

"Resin. Makes it crack rather than shatter—if you do it right. Well, this is about to be a giant anticlimax. Ten, nine, eight—"

"Dial again—please." Heather instructed.

"Fine." Bridgette started dialing Courtney's cell again.

Meanwhile, inside the safe, Gray hour had just ended.

"I don't like this room anymore. Where are the better rooms?" Courtney asked Michael and Brad. Then, she felt something vibrating in her pocket. "I have something in my pocket. Look." Courtney showed her phone to Brad.

"Pick it up already!" Courtney recoiled back and pressed the talk button on the phone.

"Hello?"

"If I can get the vault door open before the motion detectors reactivate, we're all good. Is this the Chowderhead?" Bridgette (unknown to Courtney) was talking with Heather and Harold just when Courtney picked up her cell.

"I don't know."

"Clearly, yes. Here's the deal: I can get you out of there if you do exactly as I say. Can you do that?"

"I think so."

"Underwhelming, but let's give it a go. You should be carrying a vial of resin. Bra's a good place." Courtney dug through her bra and took out the vial of resin she had stuffed into her bra two hours ago.

"I have it!"

"Good, then you've also got a nozzle thingy tucked into your boot, lipstick like." Courtney felt her leather boots, dug into each of them, and eventually found what looked like lipstick was actually something else entirely.

"Yes!"

"Screw one thingy onto the other thingy and you're going to need a drill."

"She says we need a drill."

"Who's she?" Michael asked Courtney from his position behind one of the walls within the safe.

"I don't know, but I'd give Court—Taffy the drill." Brad stuttered due to his failing strength. Michael rolled his eyes, but went to get his drill. Once he found it, he gave it to Courtney.

"Go to the door, you'll want both hands." Bridgette responded over the phone. Courtney set down the phone and walked with the resin and drill to the safe door. "On three, you'll want to start drilling into the door, doesn't matter where."

"Ready."

"I'm going to close my eyes and pray to God that when I say stop, you will stop. One…two…three…drill." Courtney started drilling into the safe door. After a few seconds, Bridgette started talking again. "Stop." Courtney stopped drilling. "Spray the resin into the hole, three squirts, count them out."

"One, two, three." Courtney sprayed the resin as Bridgette instructed.

"Put the drill in the hole, turn it on. Now this is the important part. Do not remove your hand. Don't think about it, do it." Courtney started drilling, and the drill sank into the door, and the alarm went off. "Chowderhead, talk to me. This wouldn't have happened if you didn't give my job away." Bridgette was now talking to Harold and Heather.

"What's the police response time?" Harold asked Bridgette.

"Seven minutes, guards inside less…six minutes and 15 seconds less."

"BITCH!" Michael yelled and crushed the phone against the safe door, and the line went dead.

"Taffy, thank you for your services." Heather wasted no time in business, everything went fast or people were trampled under everyone else.

"That's it?"

"Harold will take you down for your Treatment."

"Thanks for the cash. Good luck with the girl, if she's still alive that is." And Bridgette took the silver suitcase and left the office.

"I'll notify Chase. He may have to neutralize her."

"No, I'm beginning to suspect that Chase doesn't have the proper distance. Send out for Ramirez and Hutchinson. Put them online."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too." And Harold left Heather to think about the day.

"Guards are closing in." Brad said after looking at his touchpad. Michael had been moving pieces of art in front of the door as a shield against their impending doom. "Remember, your hands go over your head." Brad was instructing Courtney on how to surrender to the police.

"Okay, why?"

"Because you don't want the guards to put a bullet in your chest."

"Okay, listen, get up, and point this at the bad guys and squeeze the trigger." Michael was forcing Courtney to help him in shooting the guards down.

"Aren't we the bad guys?"

"Get down. Remember what I told you, you either get broken or you're the one doing the breaking." The door started opening, and there were a mess of guards waiting for them, telling them to come out with their hands up. "Start shooting, or I shoot you." Michael pointed his gun at her, and she was now scared out of her mind.

"I'd like to go now."

"Do it. DO IT NOW! What are you waiting for, DO IT!" Courtney eyed the syringe still filled with the yellow liquid.

"NO!!!" She picked up the syringe and thrust it into his neck and pushed the liquid into his system, which sent Michael down on his side shooting at the guards. "I said I'd like to go, but you didn't listen!" Courtney ran to Brad to help him get up. "Brad! Come on, do you know how to get us out of here?"

"Glad you're back Courtney. Around the corner, you can get out." Brad fished through his pocket for his gas bomb, pulled the pin and threw it behind him. Soon, there was a yellow gas in the air.

"I'M NOT LEAVING HERE WITHOUT YOU!"

"No, go, go now! They won't be able to see you!"

"I'm picking you up, let's go, and you're getting medical attention." Courtney helped a limping Brad all the way to their original entrance in the security office, where Chase had just arrived. When she saw Chase however, Courtney went back into her mind wiped state.

"Are you okay?" Chase asked the two.

"He's broken. Can we fix him?"

"We'll try." Chase hauled Brad onto his back.

"I'm not broken."

"No, you're not. Come on, let's get out of here."

"Gwen?" DJ quietly groaned. He had just woken up from his knocked out state.

"Why didn't you pick up your cell DJ? I've been trying to call you for so long. Do you know what I had to do to get a pass to your room? I had to ask one of the fucking maids."

"What happened?"

"Courtney…it's not her. She was planning a heist, and I don't know why."

"A heist? Forget it, I need some sleep."

"Fine, I'll leave, but don't forget DJ; we need to find Trent—and Courtney."

"Michelangelo believed his sculptures already existed inside the marble, waiting to be freed. We should get this to our clients first thing in the morning." Heather finished tracing her fingers over the frieze.

"And the antiquities expert?" Harold asked her.

"They can have him too." Heather went to pour herself a shot of bourbon. Harold left, and Cody entered, leaving Tawny and Blaire at his office again.

"So uh…I put Courtney through every test I could think of, which is a lot, and the remote wipe didn't do any permanent damage. Phew!"

"Whatever happened in Courtney's head in that vault, it's gone?" Heather left to her desk and sat down in her leather swivel chair and looked out over the Las Vegas skyline again.

"She's as fresh as morning dew. No pesky human evolution bits lingering around."

"Well done. I believe Nick has completed his debriefing. He's ready to be wiped. And Trent…get him wiped tomorrow morning. More are to be expected as soon as we can track them down."

"Cut the crap Heather. It was Tyler, wasn't it?"

"Don't talk to me like that."

"Hey, no one could come even close to pulling off a remote wipe. He's alive; he's out there, isn't he?"

"You'll need to sign and initial at the bottom." Heather handed Cody a paper and a pen.

"Are you firing me?!"

"No, I'm upping your security clearance."

"Does that mean…no, I'm right?! Tyler is still alive?! Out there?! But…after the incident, you told us security tracked him down and put out his lights. You know, killed him!"

"Our influence is substantial, Tyler with his…gifts, gifts we gave him, finding him…we're not gods Cody, and you know it."

"I'm scared, scared like a little girl. I am so close to wetting myself, and I'm long over that habit."

"Sign and initial at the bottom. I'll tell you what I know about Tyler, and you'll tell me how he did this and how we can keep him from ever doing it again."

A/N: So how'd you like it? Sorry for the abrupt ending, but it'll be continued next chapter. Don't worry about it. I don't think I'll put anything again for the sake of time and for you to review sooner, so just remember to review, and I won't pester you. Just joking! But it would be nice if you reviewed.