A/N Many, many thanks to my lone, intrepid reviewer for leaving me behind feedback. It brightens my day. The long weekend means bonus updates, I might be able to have a chapter up daily.

Here, I must also tip my hat off to the film "The Prestige" for the imagery of the flashback scene. Dates are all in keeping with the historical Tesla's timeline.

THREE

Colorado Springs, 1900

Helen walked through the desert with a sense of trepidation. It was the dead of night and no one was about … but the air felt heavy. As if something could happen at any second.

She hadn't seen Nikola in sixteen years, and despite his promises to be available he had never once responded to any of her letters. The only information she had received about him had been through copies of American newspapers. And the headlines weren't encouraging.

She read of his brilliance, for certain. He had won the war of the currents against Edison, his former mentor. His own company now was the most sought after for inventions and patents. They were saying he would be able to wirelessly transmit voices in the future.

But the newspapers also spoke of his growing eccentricities, his isolation, his very public feuds with rivals and financiers. People thought he was mad, and now the world clamored to know where he was and what he was doing. For a year he had hidden away in Colorado Springs conducting experiments that sometimes made the sky light up.

Some whispered fearfully that he would tear the world apart.

Helen checked her compass. She couldn't be far from his laboratory, the needle was spinning wildly, disturbed by a powerful magnetic field. Climbing over a rocky outcrop, what Helen saw below her made her mouth fall open.

In a huge clearing Helen saw rows of glass orbs that burned with bright, white light. But … there were no wires, no cords! She saw some uniformed assistants drifting through the rows of lights. Sometimes they would pick one up, and detached from the ground they ceased to glow. Replaced to their spot nestled in the earth, they illuminated once more.

Helen carefully made her way down, sliding through sand and rock. She made her way to the field of lights. The assistants glanced at her curiously, but did not approach her and returned to their work.

In the center of the light field was the man she had been looking for. He was pale, almost ghostly from the glow of the lights. He seemed stunned when she saw her approach and immediately brought her hand to his lips.

"Helen! If I had known I would be receiving such distinguished company, I would have changed." He winked at her.

She was too in awe to play their games of banter, and instead swept her arm across the field. "Nikola, this is amazing. How are they alight?"

Nikola offered her his arm, and then guided her around the field as if he were showing off a prize garden. "It is the very thing I came here to discover. Helen, the earth, this very planet itself is a power source. The earth is a battery."

Helen clutched at his arm in awe. "So much power…"

He lifted an orb from its place in the ground and handed it to her for her to hold. She turned it over in her hands; the glass was still warm.

"This just proves my idea of wireless electric transmissions. The earth itself will carry these electric waves and you and I will be able to hear a voice speaking into a transmitter from across the world. I think I will call it a wireless telecommunicator."

Helen grimaced, and seeing her expression he laughed. "No good?"

"Try again," she replied with an apologetic smile. Nikola was brilliant … but he was never good at naming his inventions.

"Perhaps Teleradio waves…"

Helen passed the glass sphere back to him, and placed a hand on his face. He looked a little surprised, confused of the look of concern she wore.

"You fool Nikola … how much we've worried about you. Never answering any of my letters…"

Nikola looked a little ashamed as he placed the glass lamp back into the ground. "I didn't mean to worry you, Helen. But I've been too occupied to keep track of social exchanges."

Helen looked at him disapprovingly. "Oh, Nikola. Is that all we amount to?"

He put a finger to his lips to shush her, panicking slightly at how to respond to her and too proud to apologize. He decided to distract her instead. He brought out a small light bulb from his pocket.

"Watch this." He held it up so she could see the copper bottom, the filament it was attached to. Holding up a finger, she saw a tiny spark leap from its tip and arc into the light bulb. It suddenly flickered and then shone in the darkness.

Helen gaped, and he held up the offending finger. She could hear the mischievous glee in his voice. "Let there be light!"

John's return to the Sanctuary and his account of the missing knife was disturbing. They knew now that the message hadn't been a bluff. When Helen told him of the messages she had received, he looked stricken.

"Someone inside the network? What could they possibly want?"

"And if they could access that account in Switzerland … it's possible the Head of one of the Sanctuaries is behind this."

"Or someone using their name with access to their information," Kate offered. Trying to lighten the mood she nudged Henry with her elbow. "Someone like you."

That triggered an idea, and Helen looked to Henry. "Run the records on the activities of all the Sanctuary Heads."

Henry looked nervous, but nodded gamely. "Blank account?"

Helen nodded, and Henry ran off to get started. Will rubbed his face, stunned. "Why would someone in the network, let alone a Head, do this?"

"I guess I'm not popular," Druitt commented dryly.

Helen worried at her thumbnail, trying to puzzle out the events when Henry suddenly yelped from his workstation. "Doc!"

Before she could ask, Henry turned the screen so she could see an alert posted through Interpol.

"This just went out five minutes ago…" He looked scared.

Druitt saw the alert that had been spread to every intelligence network across the world. A brutal homicide of a young woman, twenty-seven, in Brooklyn, New York. Her throat had been deeply lacerated twice in two parallel cuts. Evidence of strangulation. Her abdomen slashed, entrails dragged out to the right side of the body. Her uterus had been removed.

And his knife had been found on the scene. And fingerprints had been found on the handle.

Druitt had to fight every impulse not to sink to his knees.

Before anyone could truly process the enormity of the situation, one of Henry's screens flickered into a live video feed. It was Declan of the London Sanctuary.

"Magnus? What the bloody hell is going on?"

"I can vouch for John's innocence, Declan. He's been nowhere near America this past week."

Declan wasn't convinced. "The man can teleport anywhere in the world in the blink of an eye. Is it possible to keep track of all of his movements?"

"He didn't do it, Declan," Helen said through grit teeth.

"Fine, I'll take your word for it. But the other Sanctuary Heads are very disturbed by these events. If this information gets out to the Press, to the governments … that the Sanctuary network is harbouring Jack the Ripper…" Declan shook his head, unable to finish. "They're meeting as we speak to discuss your position as Head of the network and whether or not you've been compromised."

Helen's mouth worked furiously in incredulity and rage. "I thought we'd been over that already with the Kali incident."

Declan held up his hands in a token of surrender. "I'm compromising myself by even telling you this. Don't shoot the messenger."

Helen was still fuming. "On what grounds is my position compromised?"

"If Druitt's guilty, then it is in allowing such free reign for a dangerous abnormal without proper containment. If he isn't … then in allowing such evidence to slip through safe channels. We wonder if you're allowing your personal feelings to cloud your judgment."

"Cloud my judgment?" Helen could hear her voice rising and knew it wouldn't help her case, but she was beyond furious.

"I'm sorry, Helen. I have to join the conference call soon. Is there anything, anything you could tell me that might help explain this situation?"

Declan looked pleadingly at her, hoping desperately to help. Helen wanted to yell, "I've been set up" very badly, but she felt caution kick in. If this conspiracy had reached as high as the Sanctuary Heads … she couldn't trust anyone. Not until she had more proof.

Helplessly, she said, "I don't know any more than you."

Declan sighed, disappointed, but smiled at her encouragingly. "Keep your head up. I'll let you know what I can."

"Thank you, Declan." The screen went blank.

Druitt was staring at his hands, as if in some kind of trance. His voice was thick with shame. "I'm so sorry I brought this to your door, Helen."

"I already know what you're thinking – and don't do it, John. Going into hiding won't help anyone."

John looked ready to either weep or scream with frustration. "If I stay here then all of this is linked back to you."

Helen grasped his shoulders, forcing him to look right at her. She tried to project her confidence in him. "And if you run now, it will be the clearest admission of guilt. The Sanctuary is the safest place for you now. Besides…" Helen frowned, only now feeling safe to voice a suspicion she had. "…I think the true target is me."

Will folded his arms across his chest, his expression grave. "Someone wants to discredit you and depose you as Head of the network. But who?"

The team stood huddled in the small lab, all nervous and anxious. They were caught up in something large and sinister, with no idea of where it was taking them.

The phone rang in Helen's office. Wary, she started up the program Henry had installed to trace all communications, and took a deep breath before picking up the receiver.

"Magnus."

Helen heard a series of short and long tones, and realizing it was Morse code, she quickly found a pencil and began translating the message as she heard it. She shook with rage as each word was formed.

From Hell. Your life work or one man. Your choice.

Ire rising, Helen dropped the pencil and hissed into the receiver. "I don't know who you think you are, but I'm not intimidated by your pathetic threats. I've taken down people and organizations that would make you soil yourself. So if you really want to play – go ahead. Make your move. I'll be waiting."

She slammed down the receiver and crumpled up the piece of paper, tossing it halfway across her room. She might have lost her temper … and that might have been foolhardy – but she was not a woman to be cowed into a corner.

She checked the tracer program but only found inconclusive results. So, the dance continued.