Nottingham had barely made it back into the lab undetected. As he had suspected, General Quarters was sounded. Everyone scrambled to be in his or her place, making it difficult for him to slip back into the Dragons berth without raising an alarm.

He had spent a long night waiting to hear anything of use, but by the time scuttlebutt reached the restricted areas, it had clearly been elaborated on too the point that the truth was difficult to discern.

Now it was dawn, and the shift had changed, bringing all new tidbits of gossip to dissect. The current version going around was that an elite squad of German mercenaries had infiltrated the base to perform espionage for the Russians, and had kidnapped several scientists and a full bird colonel. Knowing there was no help for it, Nottingham settled down to wait for Weis or Matheson to arrive. He would be able to get better, more accurate information from either of them.

Except, they never showed up. They were closeted, along with the rest of the staff, with whoever was in charge of investigating the incident. For three agonizing days, which he spent snarling like a wounded leopard, the area was under total lockdown. No one came in, no one went out.

When Ian found himself contemplating going out and beating the information out of someone, Mobius was there with a word or touch, and the Dragon receded to sulk in the back of his brain. Slowly, in fits and starts, Nottingham told his brethren what he knew about that night. He couldn't escape the fear that the attack on Moira had happened because of him.

On the fourth day, a much subdued band of scientists filed into the lab. They were tired, but it went deeper than the dark rings under their eyes. It was a weariness of the spirit that spared none, even Ellis was affected, and he had been no friend of Moira's.

Pym looked at the line of Black Dragons and sighed tiredly. "I'm sure you've heard the rumors. Now let me tell you the truth. Four nights ago Doctor Burke was attacked in her quarters. She dispatched two of her assailants, but was captured, tortured, and later executed. Her body was found yesterday."

At this point, Pym had to hold up a hand for silence, as the Dragons began to fire off questions, denial, anger, and fury coloring their voices. "We have no idea what, if any information she gave them before they killed her. As a result, the project will be moved to an as yet undisclosed location. Please pack your effects and be ready for the transfer. It should happen sometime within the week. A closed casket service will be performed at 0900 tomorrow morning. If you would like to attend, please see me this afternoon to make arrangements. That is all."

"She can't be dead," Ian whispered to himself in denial. It was as if the bottom of the world had dropped out from under his feet. He should never have come back in from the storm without her. Moira had needed him, and he had failed her. His head dropped in grief and guilt.

Mobius, standing at his brother's side, laid a supportive hand on his shoulder. He could think of nothing to say, knowing what Burke had meant to Nottingham, so he let his silence speak for him.

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Moira woke to the quiet sounds of hospital monitoring equipment. She had vague memories of collapsing in the snow, being carried like a sack of potatoes, and death. It took her a long time to shake the cobwebs from her brain enough to string together a coherent thought. 'Where am I?' She tried to sit up to look around, but it was too much effort. She fell back into the drifting reverie.

Some time later, although how much she could not say, Moira stirred again. This time she was truly awake. She turned her head from side to side, taking in her surroundings. She was in a hospital bed, but it wasn't a hospital. The room was windowless, the door had no handle, and she was tied to the bed.

A cautious shifting of limbs under the restraints showed that everything was working, but hands and feet were both swathed in bandages. Given the shape of the wrappings, Moira knew she had guessed right in the snow. She had lost more toes, and both pinkie fingers appeared to be gone as well. Not pretty, but it could have been worse.

Knowing that being bedridden would take its toll on her muscles, Moira began to tense and relax her legs and arms, doing her best to exercise in the restraints. Eventually they would realize she was awake, or just come to check on her. When they did, she would know just how far up Shit Creek she really was. Until then, she would do what she could to minimize the damage done.

Sure enough, after her exertions elevated her heart rate enough, the door opened. A tall blonde man with icy blue eyes walked in. His suit was a lightweight grey wool, and impeccable. She recognized the cut; all those years living in New York had given her an eye for designers. It was definitely Agassi, and hand tailored.

"Good afternoon Moira. I may call you that, may I not?" His voice was smooth and civil, but she had the feeling he could speak in that tone of voice while stabbing you in the back.

"No, you may not. It's Doctor Burke." Moira was coldly correct. Her voice had the icy courtesy that she had perfected over the years of dealing with over-familiar males in the workplace.

"Ah, but you are about to make me a grandfather, three times over. How can I possibly call you Doctor Burke? It would hardly be fitting," He was so calm and urbane that it took a moment for the statement to sink in.

She was pregnant with triplets, if she understood him correctly. Considering who the father had to be, this would make the blonde Nottingham's father. This was the same man who had mentally and physically abused Ian, and was now going to have access to her offspring. Moira suddenly understood what Ian meant about the time he had attacked Beck, as her own vision clouded over with a red mist.

She strained against the bonds holding her to the bed. She was going to get out of this bed and kill that arrogant bastard. Her whole universe centered on her need to feel his throat collapse under her hands. One restraint snapped, then another, as she drove her will against the straps.

His face paled and he stepped back and to the side as dark haired orderlies spilled into the room. They forced her back down on the bed, someone pressed a needle to her arm, and then darkness began eating into the sides of her vision. As if from the end of a well, she could hear the man talking to another.

"Perhaps you should drop the dosage. She appears to be responding even more quickly than the men did."

"No senor, it is just the pregnancy. Her body is secreting a great deal more hormones, and is naturally out of balance. The injections are giving her more strength yes, but if you want the offspring to have the same abilities as the original subject, we must continue to..."

Then all was blissfully silent.