As time wore on, more and more executives were being killed in inventive, imaginative ways using Obsidian Corp and LM Lymer Fleet technology. It was insane. One person was wreaking mass havoc, vigilante justice was rampant and although they were rich profiteers and not necessarily 'good' people, Anna could not just forget that these were people dying. Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, wives and husbands. People with real lives and feelings and blood pumping through their veins. Until the Ghost killed them all. And she knew who it was. Or at least, she had her suspicions. Blackburn was one of the only people she knew who would be capable of it. And she was sure he was capable of the hacking required intellectually. She wasn't sure he could cold-bloodedly calculatingly murder that many people, men and women, but she had a horrible feeling he might be capable of it. When Reuben Lloyd died in his yacht, the panic of the rich spread, and Anna decided enough was enough. She stormed off to his apartment and banged on the door, the sound resonating on the rich wood.

Blackburn opened it, raising his eyebrows in surprise. She was about to speak but he seemed to realise that whatever she was about to say was probably not something he would want being overheard. So he raised his finger in a gesture to be silent and leaned over her to look down the corridor. Then he stepped aside so she could go in. She did so but did not sit down. She waited as he shut the door, the bolts sliding across with an ominous sound. "Is it you?" she demanded.
Blackburn sighed exasperatedly. "Is what me?"
"Are you the Ghost? Are you killing all those people?" His deadpan stare bored into her, giving her his best pokerface. "Of course not" he said eventually.
"You know who it is?"
"If I knew who it was I would be at their side shaking their hand" he retorted. Anna narrowed her eyes, searching his, memorising his face. She knew him better than that.
"You're lying. It is you. You're a psychopath!"
Blackburn's face split into a rueful grin, and he shook his head slowly. "Go to bed Faeilr. Stop worrying about things that don't concern you."
Rage filled her. "Don't concern me? If you are killing innocent people I think I-"
"INNOCENT PEOPLE? Those people are not innocent! They are the reason for this mess! They-"
"FINE! They aren't innocent! But that doesn't mean you can just off them like ants!"
"Why not?" he challenged coolly. "They have no regard for human life. They see us as ants, workers to do their bidding. They are doing the world no favours breathing and you are wasting your breath defending them." His lip curled. "What did you plan to do? Come down here and persuade me to stop? Come and stop me?" Anna took a step backwards and folded her arms across her body. She wasn't sure what she had come down here for. The truth for one. In front of her stood a mass murderer. Someone for whom the ends totally justified the means.
"Don't do it", she whispered. "Stop!"
"No. You and I both know that isn't going to happen." He came forward. His eyes searched her's, looking to see if this new revelation would prompt her to do something drastic. He eventually seemed satisfied because he stepped back, releasing her from his glare. Anna made to turn for the door, she slid the iron bolts back, turned the keys but the door would not open. Panicking slightly she turned back to find Blackburn had silently closed the space between them. "What are you doing? Let me go!"
He rolled his eyes. "It is electronic. Only I can open it." He did so, she didn't see how but the door slid seamlessly open, its hinges well oiled. Startled, Anna rushed through, not wanting to be trapped in the apartment a moment longer. She felt his eyes on her back as she hurried away.

The next day more people died. Paranoia was mounting and she found it ironic that it was all happening just a few metres from where they were sitting. She felt dreadful, she hadn't slept and was chugging orange juice like crazy. All those people were dying, and she could stop it. But at what cost? Her own life. Tom's perhaps? And they might not even believe her. She was sure Blackburn could cover his tracks. She was a terrible, cowardly person. Xi Quinghong from Preeminent Communications was murdered, followed by others. Then the scandal erupted as the internet became infested with evidence that Vengerov sponsored both Obsidion Corp and LM Lymer Fleet, on opposite sides in the war.

Anna still had to accept a sponsor. Those being murdered were simply being replaced, although the Ghost certainly had everyone in fear. She ended up accepting Whyndham Harks. She didn't tell Blackburn, she figured he'd find out anyway and heck she had the upper hand, at least for now. She was still worried of course, she'd be stupid not to be. She now knew who the Ghost was for crying out loud! But she was sponsored! She was in the spotlight, deigned to fawn over the corporation. With a concerned grimace she remembered that despite Heather's disgrace, she had been in the spotlight too. Anna ignored the thought. It was too late to change things. She saw Blackburn over breakfast that day. His icy cold glare found her from across the room and she felt chills tingle down her spine. She bit her lip and was first to break the contact, eating her breakfast with her heart in her chest.

It was weird. Normally if she'd even slighted him, he'd be picking on her like crazy during Programming, using her for demonstrations and such. But since she'd accepted he hadn't said a word to her, ignoring her completely. She didn't mind, it gave her some peace and quiet but it was disturbingly unsettling. It was as if she didn't exist to him.

Then it happened. It was November, Anna had turned 23. Since getting sponsored Anna had been moved to Upper and was allowed to fight and practice controlling real machines in space! They were going to be heading towards Cruithne which was an asteroid rather large in size. But it wasn't there. The space twinkled ominously, blackness enveloping the distant stars. Wyatt went to find out what was going on, Anna's ship was hit by oncoming Russio-Chinese combatants who had surprise attacked, so she awoke in the room, lying down, and unplugged herself from the neural interface. She glanced around at the still bodies of the other combatants still plugged in. Wyatt returned, a frantic look on her face as she hooked herself in. Ten seconds later everyone was waking up looking confused. Wyatt had terminated the connection. The combatants sat in stunned silence as the news sank in. a five km asteroid was heading straight to Earth, and no one could stop it. This was the end of life on Earth. Gone. Over. "What do we do?" asked Clint.
"We die, Clint" replied Lyla. They had thirty-seven minutes. It was nothing. Not an hour even! She listened to the discussion of the other combatants as Tom plugged himself back in, probably to try and relieve his distress by blasting things in space she scoffed. Most of the others went to try and call family. Vik and Lyla were clearly going to have some 'apocalyptic' sex and Wyatt was hugging Yuri.

Anna wasn't about to waste time calling her parents. No one would get through anyway. She wasn't sure what to do, she felt utterly numb. This couldn't be real! It was like a dream. Her feet were moving and she found herself going to Blackburn's lab. She had no idea why but if there was one person who knew more about her than any other, it was him. She didn't want to spend her last minutes surrounded by people who had no idea who she was. She heard voices and was stunned to hear General Marsh talking! He'd been replaced a long time ago by someone far more into military tactics. Not that she'd cared too much.
"I know what you've been doing, Lieutenant."
"You do?"
"Make peace with God. Look at some pictures of your kids…Do something other than fixate on that white wale of yours."
"There is nothing else, General."
Anna waited until Marsh had finished berating Blackburn: "that was no way to live, and it's certainly no way to die." She hid as he left the room and peeked through the door to see Blackburn burning a hole in the floor with his gaze, rubbing the scars on his face.

"Hey." She walked in nervously.
"What do you want?"
She bit back her retort and instead simply said "I'm not sure. I just didn't want to be by myself." She scoffed. "All that effort to keep myself alive only to die by a blinking comet!"
He frowned. "It's not a comet, it's an asteroid. And it's not an accident."
"What?"
He walked over to her and looked down at her. "Vengerov" he growled. "Who do you think has the resources to make this happen and make sure the sensors didn't alert us until it was too late? Who has no care for humanity?"
"But even he-" Blackburn placed his large, calloused hands on either side of her face.
"He is more than capable of it. Believe me." They stood there for several moments, utterly silent, breathing in and out.

Anna realised that although she'd spent so much time with him, she knew very little about the Lieutenant. Calling him a private person would be understating it to the extreme.
"You had a wife." It was a statement but partially a question.
He glanced at her curiously and nodded. "Esme."
"How'd you get a wife?" she joked. If you couldn't have a laugh at the end of the world, what could you do? He looked at her, distracted.
"Why wouldn't I be able to get a wife?"
"Well, you know, you're so scary and big and serious. It's a wonder she didn't run away screaming" she teased.
He chuckled. "What do you know? I'll have you know I'm smart, funny, powerful, witty, incredibly good looking and highly intelligent. I found it ludicrously easy to get a wife."
She smirked. "Now you're beginning to sound like Vik Ashwan." She'd never seen anyone look so offended.

He remembered meeting her all those years ago. Her dark hair and bright eyes had caught his attention immediately. He'd been a Private in the army, eighteen years old. He'd had his hair all cropped, his uniform polished until it was gleaming, and his muscles toned until he'd felt he'd looked the part. Ridiculous. He'd wandered over to her as she said goodbye to her brother, a large fella who never smiled. He was killed a couple of years later, an explosion. "What Division?" He'd begun talking to the other boy, hoping to use him as an excuse to speak more with the girl next to him.
"56th, you?"
"57th. Pretty close. Name's Blackburn. James. Blackburn". He grinned. The older boy didn't get it, he'd been alluding to the old books and films, James Bond. But the beauty understood, she returned his smirk and shook his hand. "I've been expecting you Mr Blackburn", her white teeth flashed in the sun as her curls filled out round her shoulders. "I'm Esme. This oaf is Frank."

So it had begun, they'd started chatting, he'd written letters whilst deployed, and she'd written back. A year and a half later they'd been married. He remembered proposing, atop the cliffs, looking down at the ocean. "It's so beautiful James" she'd muttered, dying sunlight clinging to her lashes. "So wild and free."
"It is. I can be wild too you know." He remembered swinging his arm round her waist and tumbling with her to the ground, the grass light under them. Later he'd proposed, heart beating, sweaty and terrified, he'd shown her the ring he'd saved up to buy, got his knee muddy and said the words: "Be my wife. Be my wife Esme." He rarely thought of it now. Of course he still had a reminder of her every day when he looked in the mirror and saw the scars on his face, after the children, his boys, had been blown up, she'd scratched him and left him with a permanent reminder. They'd divorced of course. He'd never seen her again. He wondered if she was thinking of him now. He'd only been twenty when Vengerov had taken him, their boys so young. But she had waited, stayed with him as he struggled with the paranoia and Schizophrenia. And the man who had caused all that. Who had destroyed his life and countless others – was free. In a bunker somewhere.

Blackburn came to and noticed the woman in the room with him. He'd been silent for several minutes, reminiscing. He snorted. It was so pointless all of it. Anna looked lost in her own thoughts as she sat, swinging her legs off the end of the desk. He touched his cheek, surprised to see his fingers come back wet. "What were they called?" She spoke, breaking the silence.
"Who?" His voice was gruff.
"Your boys. What were they called?"
"Callum and William, they were good kids. Energetic."
"I'm sorry."
He gave a harsh laugh. "Don't be. We'll all be dead soon. Don't be sorry."
She moved towards him, shifting her weight to his, and leant on him. He hesitantly put his hand on her leg. And together they waited out the minutes to impact.