"FUCK!" Adam Dawson bellowed, luckily for him having had the forethought to turn his head away from the microphone so as not to blow Derek's ears off. Lucky for him because otherwise Chancer would've killed him in a very slow, painful way. Not that he wasn't already considering doing just that, but this would've only made that desire stronger.

"Sorry Adam," he breathed. "I don't know what I can tell you. I can only go by what I've seen."

Dawson took a deep breath. Derek could almost imagine the little prick trying to reign in his anger. He smirked. He didn't like Dawson, that was no secret and part of him was glad the guy's plan had failed. Not because of Danielle, he couldn't give a shit about her besides fucking and killing her, but because it might show the arrogant idiot that not everything was about him. Bring him down a peg or two. He thought he was everyone's boss, not just women's. Chancer didn't like that at all. He was seriously considering just getting Dawson's money, then giving him a little… operation on his operating table. Newly restored with the prick's money, of course. After all, if he was paying for it, didn't he deserve to be the first to see what his money had purchased? All sorts of wonderful thoughts of what he could do to Dawson and then more women flashed through his mind, and he was grinning when Dawson spoke again.

"I'm not giving up, Mr. Chancer. I am going to get to Hayward if it's the last thing I do!"

Which it very well might be at my hand no less, Chancer thought. Except for paying me a shit load before you die of course. "Ok," he said, keeping his voice neutral, trying not to let any of the excitement he'd just felt come out in his tone. "Well, try and text me, ok? I can't speak for too long these days. In fact, guard's coming." He hung up.

…

Adam knew he should probably wait until morning, but he was too angry. He picked up his phone and dialled the number of Leach's organisation.

"Yes?" Said a voice, this time it sounded like a man, thank fuck. Maybe they didn't use voice changing software at night as the risk was lower or something.

"I need to see someone," Adam said. "Face to face, as soon as possible. I have a request which I only want to make in person."

"Sorry, that's not your decision," the man said. Adam felt his anger rise.

"Listen Sir, I'm the client in case you've forgotten. I'm paying you good money for this. Mr. Leach himself even said I give you profitable business, ask him if you don't believe me! Well, if you want to keep that business, then I demand to meet someone face to face!" There was a short silence. Briefly, Adam wondered if he was going to pay for that little rant with his life. But then the man spoke again. "When?"

"Like I said, as soon as possible," Adam said.

"Hang on," the guy said and hung up. About five minutes later, he called back. "Fine," he said when Adam answered. "Mr. Leach himself will meet you at your café in fifteen minutes. But don't be late, he won't hang around."

"On my way," Adam said and hung up. But as he dressed at top speed, he started to wonder why. Why was Chris Leach meeting him? The crime lord himself at past midnight? Didn't he have goons that did all that work for him while he slept soundly? Or fucked whatever whore he pleased? As Adam thought this, he started to feel a little uneasy. Was this a bad idea? But it was too late now. Picking up his car keys, he got into his car and drove towards the internet café, hoping his connection to life wasn't about to be disconnected as easily as a broadband connection could be.

…

Chris Leach was angry. This guy Dawson was starting to demand a little too much from them. To meet now? Face to face? If he didn't have a very good reason for this Leach might possibly finish him off here and now. Not by terminating his contract either, by terminating his life. Chris Leach knew twenty-six different ways to kill people which would look totally accidental and leave no marks. Some were quick, others hurt. A quick finger strike to the throat and that would be the end of Adam Dawson. But he decided he'd see what the guy wanted first.

Leach smirked to himself. Maybe he should've sent Tulip, his deputy. Of course, Tulip wasn't her real name that was Sharon. But very few people knew that except for the organisation high ups. Her alias was an inside joke, total irony. Flowers were delicate, vulnerable, and delicate and vulnerable were two things Sharon, Tulip, most certainly was not. She was hard as nails and could make even the largest man quake. Leach suspected even Michael Myers himself would think twice before targeting her. Adam Dawson would get a nasty surprise if he tried any of his misogyny on her. Maybe next time he would send Tulip. That'd teach the guy a lesson. Leach wasn't a misogynist, but he was also indifferent towards women. If the whores he paid gave him good sex, he didn't really care either way. But unlike Dawson he was quite happy to get his own food, wash his own clothes and so on. Women were just there to fuck. He smirked again as he thought about Sharon. Even though she was married; they did enjoy a role around in the sheets from time to time. Leach knew her husband and suspected the guy didn't care. He wasn't in Leach's organisation and Leach suspected he hardly knew what his wife was doing half the time. But he was one violent motherfucker. If Leach needed someone beaten up, Tulip's husband was a good number to have in his phone. Maybe he'd set him on Dawson just for his own kicks.

When Leach got to the internet café, Dawson was already there. Good. "I don't have hours," he said as he got out of his Mercedes. "What is it? I warn you now if you're here to cry about that incident again then…"

"No Sir," Dawson said quickly. "I promise you I'm not." Leach smirked. Dawson feared him. That was just fine with Leach.

They entered the unlocked and broken door, the owner giving them a brief nod before going up to his small flat above the place. Leach and Adam sat down at their usual table at the back, furthest from the door. Not that it was likely anyone would come in at this hour, but they were taking no chances.

"So?" Leach said. "What is it?"

Adam couldn't resist asking this question and suspected he was probably to use his father's words, digging his own grave, but he couldn't stop himself. "Why have you come yourself Sir? I would've thought you'd send one of your minions at this hour."

That is irrelevant to you," Leach replied smoothly, his tone quite clearly indicating for Adam to move on. "So, I suggest you just answer my question. I will not ask you again. What is it?"

Adam shut his mouth. Probing further would just be stupid and potentially deadly. So instead, he just took a breath before speaking again. "Apparently my letter plan has failed. Our inside man told me an hour ago that he saw the masked killer guiding the target back towards her cell." Adam had learnt from Leach's organisation early on never to use names in person unless necessary, as one never knew who was listening. Leach shrugged. "So? How's that our problem? It's yours."

"Yes, I know," Adam said quickly. "Sir," he added. "But here's the thing. Our man says his… device isn't working when directed at that cell. That he can't hear anything she says. It works everywhere except when pointed at the cell I need it to work for! I'm paying him a shit load of money and it strikes me a bit suspicious that suddenly, it's stopped working. I'm wondering if something's going on inside, he's not telling us. Maybe the masked killer has got wind of it and our man is too scared to listen for us anymore."

"Hmm," Leach said thoughtfully. "So, you think he might be lying about the device not working?"

"I don't know!" Adam said in pure frustration. "But I want to know why suddenly, it's apparently stopped when pointed at her cell. He said he can't see her cell from his so they might have modified it, but how do I know that's not just an excuse? He could see it when going out into the yard, couldn't he?"

"Not necessarily," Leach answered. "I've seen a layout of the block they're in and there are two doors leading out into the exercise yard. One at one end, one at the other. If our man's cell is nearer one door than hers, they wouldn't take him past her cell to get out. It's designed that way for security reasons, duh."

Adam nodded. He knew that much already. Though he hadn't seen Smith's Grove himself, Chancer had told him that once before. "But that's just it! Damn it! I want someone to go in there and make sure he's not bullshitting us! Make sure he's not lying."

"But what if he is?" There was a slight grin on Leach's face now. "What if he is lying? What? Do you plan to join forces with Michael Myers after all and ask him to kill him for you?"

Adam knew Leach was once again mocking him. Join forces with Michael Myers? When was the killer protecting Adam's own target? The idea was indeed almost laughable. "Not fucking likely," Adam gritted his teeth.

"Well, it's not like we can just send one of ours in to kill him for you," Leach said. "Security is way too high. Especially given your uh… previous stunt with the dwarf. They'll be on high alert now, I'm telling you. Anything which looks remotely like you're doing, they'll stop before a person or package gets anywhere near the hospital, never mind your target!"

Adam knew the crime lord was very probably right, but that didn't mean he had to like it or give in. He lowered his voice, even though they were the only ones there. "Can't you send in your man who gave our man the iPod? I obviously don't know who he is, but if our inside man trusts him, then he won't suspect we're suspicious of him will he?"

"Interesting play on words," Leach said with a chuckle. "Hmm. Maybe I could, but why? What are you hoping to achieve? He can check the device itself is working, but he won't be able to get anywhere near to the target's cell. You should know that if you're not a complete idiot like I suspect you are!"

"Yes, I know that Sir," Adam said quickly. "Then do you know any other way I can find out if her cell has indeed been modified in some way to stop the equipment working?"

Leach shook his head. "Nope, too dangerous. I don't even think it's a good idea to send the target one of our tiny cameras concealed in a packet of sweets or something. One, she won't know who it's from so probably won't open it if she's not stupid and two, the guards might check it before it even gets to her. Like I said, any person or package near your target will be intercepted. Plus, do you really want to take even more risks if your letter plan has just failed? If our masked killer friend is indeed protecting her? I'd say give up now while you're still alive."

Adam realised the crime boss had just quoted his father word for word. "Give up now while you're still alive." Were they right? But… "God damn it!" Adam tried not to shout. "You sound like my father, Mr. Leach Sir. I visited him in prison just today, well yesterday now and he said the very same thing. Give up now while you're still alive. He thinks it's too dangerous too! But damn it the bitch is mine! If I just give up, she'll think she's got away from me and I'm determined not to let that happen, Sir!"

Leach sighed. The man really was a stupid, arrogant prick. "You might not have any choice," he said evenly. "Sometimes you just must let the fish off your line, Adam. Some of them are too heavy and dangerous to hook and reel in. I'd say she's one of them. Your bait has just failed to work, and she is too heavily protected by guards and now a masked killer. I think your best bet is to just give up now, as your father and I have said, while you're still alive."

Adam gritted his teeth again, so hard he tasted blood from his bottom lip. "Can't you send your man in?" He asked. "I'll pay whatever you ask for it Mr. Leach. But I must know one way or the other if the iPod is working. Ok he won't be able to test her cell, but at least I'll know if the iPod itself is working?"

"That's as maybe, but how will it help you? It still won't solve your problem, Adam."

"No, but at least then I'll know for certain it must be the cell and not our inside man bullshitting or lying to us."

"Why does it matter so much to you if he even is lying, Adam? He won't be leaving Smith's Grove, until the time comes for him to go to old sparky once the Lawyers have stopped trying to appeal it."

"That's definitely on the cards then?" Adam asked. Leach shrugged. "Looks likely, which is why I ask you why waste your money on finding out purely if the iPod works? Are you wanting it for a Christmas present to someone afterwards? Leach smirked to himself.

Adam wished the man would stop mocking him, but he couldn't deny there was also truth in what he said. "Please," he said eventually. "Please Sir, just humour me?"

Leach hesitated, then shrugged. "Hmm whatever. It's your cash and if you keep going down this path," he stood up and stretched. "It'll also very probably be your funeral."

"Can't I use my other target?" Adam asked Leach as the crime Lord turned towards the door. "Like I did with the letter? Send the blind bitch a package of sweets with a hidden and tiny camera and maybe even one of your hard candy bugs in and say it's from the sighted target? She won't think twice about opening it then! She loves that bitch! I'll be able to see for myself then, or rather you or one of your men will Sir and can tell me whether her cell has indeed been modified and if so how. Maybe then we can come up with a way to get past whatever they've done to it. Stronger microphones or something. Our inside man told me the blind target phoned the sighted one in floods of tears about the letter. So, if nothing else this will distress the sighted target all over again. She's mine too you know, I also intend to show her who is boss, Mr. Leach."

Leach turned, walked back to the table, and slowly sat down again. "I suppose we could," he said slowly, and Adam's heart leapt. "But it'll cost you a shit load for a hard candy bug to be posted. Someone will have to activate it once your target opens the package it's in."

Adam thought of another question and almost laughed as he asked it. "How will we stop her eating it?"

Leach smirked, acknowledging the question. "Hmm. Good question if I do say so myself, Adam. We could always attach it to the tiny camera, so she thinks it's just part of it. The wrapper is a wind shield on the tiny microphones, so it works wrapped or unwrapped. We could even put it in the little secret compartment on the back of the camera, so she won't even," he laughed. "See it. Pun intended. All being well, nobody will. But it'll cost you a very heavy price, Adam. Those bugs are very expensive and require one of us to manually activate them."

Adam knew what Leach was, but at the same time wasn't saying. It won't be you, you're not in our organisation so you won't have that power. Adam knew better than to mention this though. "How much?" He asked instead. "I'll pay whatever you ask Sir."

Leach told him it would cost him one thousand dollars to get the bug in and Adam nodded immediately. "Plus, another five hundred for the second visit to our inside man," Leach added. Adam nodded again. "Yes Sir, of course." Just one final question Sir," Adam said as Leach stood for the second time. "I'd heard through the grape vine that the dwarf was on tag. What happened to the tag? Otherwise, the police would've identified him immediately. I saw on the news they were asking for an ID."

Leach nodded. "Ah, yes. That slight little… Problem. We cut it off and threw it in a river. They'll never track or find it again."

Adam laughed. "Brilliant, Sir."

"Why I thank you, Adam. But now if you'll excuse me, I'll wish you good night."

When Leach left the café, Adam remained in his seat, thinking over everything he and the crime boss had just discussed. Maybe, just maybe, he'd get to Danielle this time. Michael Myers or no Michael Myers. The killer would have to reach him first before he could kill him and there was no way that would happen. Finally! Adam thought as he finally stood up to drive home. Too bad bitch, I've got you this time and you quite literally, won't even see it coming!

…

Derek Julian Chancer, DOB 03/18/1970, is one of if not the most feared killer in the United States. Well, apart from perhaps killers like Michael Myers. But as Myers is now locked in a Psychiatric hospital for life, Chancer occupies that spot on the list. His crimes are almost legendary. He killed no fewer than forty-two women before his capture, gloating at and tormenting the police. His methods were so Suttle, no women thought twice. He'd take them out for wine and a meal in a restaurant near his house, discretely drugging the wine with a slow acting sleeping pill, before taking them back to his house. Chancer, being a good-looking man (see photograph above), the women never hesitated. He would then lure them down to his basement, on the pretence he had something to show them. Perhaps in a sick, ironic way he did. Once in his basement, Mr. Chancer would tell them to lie down on what he called his "operating table." Which is indeed exactly what it was. However, this table was covered in straps and manacles. By now of course, the sleeping pill he'd given them would be kicking in and they'd be too groggy to resist. Mr. Chancer would then tie them up, remove their clothing, rape them then kill them in a wide variety of very violent and bloody ways.

This much is only known from one terrified witness who managed to survive Mr. Chancer's Psychopathic plan. She told the police the very same story, so it is widely believed every woman he killed went the same way.

The details of his killings are considered too gruesome to be shared on this page. But suffice to say they consisted of torture most of us would never even think of let alone carry out. Mr. Chancer is now locked in Smith's Grove Psychiatric hospital, the same one ironically as Michael Myers. But while Myers will be there for life, it is very likely Derek Chancer will face old sparky, (the electric chair) once his Lawyers have exhausted all appeals. When Dr Loomis, one of the head Psychiatrists at Smith's Grove was asked why Chancer was facing electrocution and Myers was not, Dr Loomis replied, "Michael Myers kills, full stop. Thereby giving us reason to believe insanity. He doesn't care who he kills, why, or when. Mr. Chancer on the other hand deliberately and calculatingly targets women, planning each kill meticulously before executing it. I therefore cannot pronounce this man insane." Although of course nothing has been revealed to the press about what Chancer might've said if anything in his therapy at the hospital, we can reveal evidence from his trial. Derek Chancer had a troubled childhood. His father left him at the very young age of 3, running off with another woman. Mr. Chancer therefore blames this unknown female for his father's leaving and has since made it his mission to target, rape and kill women in punishment, believing they are all to blame for this. He said in his trial it was to, "Stop other men from falling under their spells." Whether he is talking about some form of witchcraft which he believes this woman used is unknown. But his mother was heartbroken, and Mr. Chancer appears to have chosen to kill women as his way to settle the score.

His Lawyers are using this evidence to keep him out of old sparky. Arguing he was hurt at a very young age, and it had messed up his mind. Whether it will succeed remains to be seen. But either way he'll remain locked up for life if it does. Doctors at Smith's Grove have of course declined to comment further as he is currently still undergoing treatment.

…

Adam looked up from the page he'd found on Google, having typed in the woman killer's name. Hmm. So that was interesting, a troubled childhood was why he killed women. To blame them for his father leaving him and his mother. Adam felt no sympathy for the women he killed as he himself hated them, but for his own reasons. His mother had probably deserved it, though of course he'd never dare say that to Chancer. Not if he wanted to live anyway. So, chancer was almost certainly going to the chair then. Adam didn't care either way if he got his answers. Sure, he respected the woman killer, but he couldn't do anything to stop the execution so why worry about it? Adam just didn't like being lied to by anyone. He was starting to distrust Chancer and right now, while he was still alive, the killer was getting a lot of his money. Probably into a secret bank account Leach would give him when, if, he ever got out of there. Or perhaps the crime Lord was keeping it for himself? Adam didn't know. But his earlier offer to give Chancer money when he got out would be completely forgotten if it did turn out the man was lying to him, the reason be damned.

…

BANG! BANG!

Mark Sarcozi woke with a start. What the fuck was that? He glanced at his watch. It was 6AM.

BANG! BANG!

There it was again. Someone was trying to break his door down. Or at least, that's what it sounded like. With a growl of annoyance, Sarcozi dragged himself out of bed and pulled on his jeans over his boxer shorts and t-shirt. He then walked to the door before the person could hammer on it again.

"Hey tube!" Said a cheerful voice Sarcozi didn't recognise, still half asleep. "Need to talk. It's Spliff!"

Mark inwardly groaned. So, it was one of Chris Leach's men. He'd sincerely hoped he'd never see them again after he'd delivered the iPod into Smith's Grove. He sighed. "What is it?"

All of Leach's men had aliases, even him. Though his had been given to him very reluctantly on his part. It was the first thing Leach had told him when he'd unwillingly let them recruit him. Mark had just come out of prison for small time drug stuff, but what Leach was offering he couldn't turn down. He'd just have to be very careful and cover his tracks better in future. Maybe with Leach around he'd be able to do just that. He'd heard a lot of Aliases since he'd joined. The man at his door now was Spliff but he'd also met hammer, joint and unbelievably, cornflake.

Now the man called Spliff entered his house. Mark didn't even know his real name and suspected "Spliff" didn't know his either. That was fine with Mark. "What is it?" Mark asked, closing his door.

"Now tube." Spliff said, sounding almost disappointed. "That's no way to treat an old friend. Can't we start off with a nice hot drink?" Mark sighed. This might be his house, but Spliff was already dictating the terms of this meeting. Mark didn't like that fact at all. But it was just a drink, he could cope with that demand. Spliff followed him into the kitchen and on his request, Mark made him a strong black coffee, and a sweet tea for himself.

"What is it?" Mark repeated, once they were sitting in the living room with their drinks. Mark didn't like how Spliff had almost instantly made himself at home either. He was now lounging with his feet on the sofa, looking around the living room. Mark didn't trust him as far as he could throw him.

"Well," Spliff said, looking completely at ease. "As you've probably guessed, the boss called me and asked me to come over to see you this morning. As soon as possible was what he said. We have a… situation."

Mark felt his heart sink. This did not sound good. "What situation?" He asked, unsure whether he even wanted to hear the answer.

"Well, you see," Spliff continued, his every word casual, unhurried, as though they were discussing where they were going to meet for lunch the next day. "It's to do with the man in SG who's undertaking some work for one of our clients. The one you visited. You know, your old school friend, I believe?"

Mark looked away. Damn. He'd hoped that wouldn't be common knowledge, his and Chancer's old school friendship. But if Spliff knew, then God knew how many more did. Spliff wasn't exactly known for keeping his mouth shut. Even if he only knew on a need-to-know basis. Mark looked back at him suspiciously. "Yes," he said reluctantly after a moment's pause. "My old school friend. In that case you must be referring to Derek Chancer."

"Unless you have any other killers as old school chums," Spliff chuckled. "Yes, one and the same."

Mark sighed again. "Just because I took him the iPod and we used; I repeat used to be friends at school why does that mean I have to go back in there? I already know that's what you're building up to asking me to do!"

"You are correct," Spliff nodded. "Well, you see Tube, its business. Mr. Chancer of course knows you and the quacks in that nut house have no reason to distrust you. If we sent just anyone in there it would raise suspicion and issues around our client and security are rather…" he paused. "Tense at the moment."

"Let me guess," Mark rolled his eyes. "He screwed up, our client and now he's alerted the quacks to what Chancer was doing. Right?"

"Almost," Spliff said slowly, choosing his words carefully now. "It's actually more a case of…" he paused again. "Let's just say someone tried to enter SG to speak to our client's target and… did something he shouldn't."

"Who? Our client?"

"No, Tube. The man who went in at our client's request. He tried to warn the quacks about what was going on. Tried to protect our client's main target. As he has two, but the one in SG is his main priority."

Mark whistled. "Jesus! So, what happened?"

"Well let's just say this man had a little… accident when he left SG. He somehow encountered a hammer to the head on the highway back home. He was pulled out of his car and beaten to death."

Mark winced. What a horrible way to go. He remembered his own thoughts when Leach had first asked him to take the iPod in. Tricking a blind woman, causing her harm didn't sit well with him either. So, he in part sympathised with the now dead stranger. He then remembered Leach's words to him that night. Ching-Ching! Had this unknown stranger heard those words in the last hours of his life? A promise of money beyond his dreams which made him walk to his death? Mark felt sick. "So why do I need to go back in there?" He asked after a moment. "What does our client want from me?"

"See Tube, this is why I had to come here. It's too dangerous to discuss this over the phone, sure you understand." Spliff smiled. "Great coffee, may I have another?"

Mark gritted his teeth but went and followed the request. The man was keeping him waiting, making it quite clear who was in control, in charge, even in Mark's own house. This was typical Leach and his men. He passed Spliff his fresh coffee, then retook his seat. Spliff took time sipping before he spoke again.

"Ok. Our client thinks our inside man your old friend is lying about the iPod. Or should I say he might be. He has told us and our client that it works everywhere apart from the target's cell."

Mark raised an eyebrow "Eh? So, the technology within it works everywhere else just fine except for the target's cell? How can that be?"

"That is as yet unknown," Spliff said. "But I think the boss is working on something for our client who desperately wants to find out. He's a determined son of a bitch our client, I'll give him that. He must really hate the blind woman, that's for sure. He told the boss he isn't giving up. Crazy if you ask me not to mention fucking expensive, but…" Spliff shrugged. "His money, our pockets Tube."

"But I won't be able to get to her cell," Mark reminded him. Spliff nodded. "I know, that's why our boss is working on something which can get to her cell. All you must do is check the iPod is working. Our client wants to be sure your old chum isn't lying to him."

"Um, so let me get this straight. Mr. Leach wants me to go in there to check the iPod is working, to make sure Derek Chancer is telling him the truth? Why does that make any difference? I can check it works sure. But I can't get anywhere near her cell to prove it doesn't work there."

Spliff shrugged. "Fuck knows. Apparently, the boss asked our client the very same question. Asked him if he wanted to give the iPod to someone as a Christmas present when this is over and Chancer's been fried," Spliff smirked. "What do you care? I say again, his money, our pockets."

Mark looked at him for a long moment. "So," he said at last. "Basically, our client simply wants to know for a fact the iPod is working, regardless. Right?"

"That's about the size of it," Spliff agreed.

"Pointless," Mark muttered. "What a fucking waste of time. It won't solve his problem."

Spliff shrugged again. "Not our problem, we just take the cash at the end of it. So will you, do it?"

Mark sighed. He didn't want to do it, but he could feel himself getting dragged in to it whether he wanted to or not. "How much will I get paid?" He couldn't help himself but to ask. He needed money; he couldn't lie there.

"Considering the risks you'll be taking," Spliff replied. "The boss has said you'll get 700 bucks."

Mark whistled. 700 just for if he was lucky, an hour's work tops? In which case, he realised with a sinking feeling, he could not refuse. "Fine," he said at last, very reluctantly. "But just one thing, how will I get Chancer to give me the iPod? I can't exactly say "hey Derek, I'm here to check your iPod's working," can I? I'm not a fucking iPod maintenance man!"

Spliff grinned. "The boss is getting one of his men to programme the iPod today, so it makes a high-pitched buzzing sound and stops showing Derek his precious porn," he laughed now. "That'll make him hand it over, if he can't get his pussy on screen!"

"But won't it seem a bit suspicious if the day after that happens, I suddenly appear asking him if it's working? He'll know I'm on it then!"

"That's the point." Spliff looked at Mark as if he were stupid. "Chancer will probably contact Leach on it immediately and tell him. So, you are being there so quickly will be perfect. The idiot will think you've been sent there purely to fix it. He won't be able to wait to get his pussy back!"

Mark nodded, unable to stop himself marvelling at Leach's thought processes and technical abilities. It made perfect sense. He looked back at Spliff. "So, then what do I do?"

"Then all you must do is listen with the iPod for a few seconds, verify it is indeed working and leave. When you confirm this to the boss, he'll get the buzzing and whatever jammer he's used taken off the iPod again. Bingo, working perfectly. Chancer will love you! That's all you must do. Piece of cake!"

But as Spliff left the house a few minutes later and Sarcozi was alone, he began to think that a piece of cake was something it certainly would not be. It smelt very strongly of danger and risk as far as he was concerned. But the money. It was too good to refuse. With a groan, he went back to bed, knowing Leach had him just where he wanted him. Mark's plan had been to have a lie in that day as he didn't have work. But when he got back into the bed, he'd reluctantly left on Spliff's arrival, he knew sleep would not be coming back to him that day.

…

At first when Charlotte woke the next morning, she wasn't exactly sure where she was. She glanced around her. Was she staying in a hotel for some reason? Then it all started coming back. The letter, Adam, Danielle, Michael… Thinking of the latter two she smiled. She wondered what'd happened between them the night before. Maybe she'd ask her when they met up. She had plans with her friend before she finally did drive home.

The previous evening, Dr Stark had been true to her word and given her as much time as she'd needed. It was two and a half hours before the Psychiatrist left her, during which Charlotte insisted on making her a hot drink. They'd sat and drank them, while Charlotte said everything she wanted to say. A couple of times during the session, Charlotte had stopped herself saying what she really wanted to, conscious of the Psychiatrist's need to get home to her own life. But both times Dr Stark had seemed to read her mind, given her that stern glare once more and Charlotte had surrendered. But she'd do something to say thank you, whatever Dr Stark said. As she got out of the huge bed and headed towards the shower, Charlotte found her mind going back over her session the night before.

…

"I don't really want to be in a refuge if I'm honest. Not for much longer."

"There's no shame in it you know," Dr Stark said.

"Yeah, I know," Charlotte nodded. "But there's women out there who and I don't mean this the wrong way, I know abuse is abuse, just like you said earlier. But there are indeed women who are much worse off than me. They need my room and I'm taking up space which really should be theirs.

"But that's not your decision, is it." Charlotte knew it wasn't a question.

"Well, no," she admitted. "But I'm starting to question why I'm still there. Does someone want me to stay there until Adam is arrested?"

"I believe that's what judge Spinner said wasn't it?"

"I think…" Charlotte thought back. "I can't remember her exact orders, but it was either until Adam was in prison or there were sufficient security measures to protect me. If I'm honest, I'm still not completely sure what that means. Dr Clarkson is the one in charge of my case and she's the one who decides when I can leave."

"Have you spoken to her about how you're feeling?"

"Not yet. I was supposed to have a meeting with her yesterday before all this shit happened. I phoned her last night; the doctors don't finish until eleven each night and luckily, she was still on duty. I told her the outcome of what'd happened, and that Danielle was ok."

"Right," Dr Stark said slowly. "Did you discuss you and your situation? You're just as important in all this too, Charlotte. You seem to keep forgetting that."

Charlotte gave the older woman a genuine smile. "No, I don't forget it. I suppose I just can't let myself forget the fact she did go through a lot worse than I did at Adam's hands, and that's just the truth. Her abuse was still worse than mine. But I promise not to say it in a derogatory way again," she smiled again. So anyway, Dr Clarkson said we would talk when I got back. I told her I was staying here last night."

"So, when are you needed back for College?"

"Tuesday."

"Well, it's only Saturday now, so if you want to stay until Monday, you are more than welcome to do so. I am more than happy to authorise this and I'm sure she will be over the moon too."

"I couldn't ask…"

"You didn't," Dr Stark interrupted. "I offered."

Charlotte had quickly learnt that Dr Stark was not someone to argue with. "Thanks," she said quietly. "I did have the foresight to bring an overnight bag just in case, lucky for me I did then."

"Indeed," Dr Stark said. "So, tell me Charlotte. What are you studying at college?"

Charlotte opened her mouth but again, Dr Stark spoke before she could. How the hell did she do that? "No, come on, I genuinely want to know."

Charlotte blushed. "I'm taking accounts, I want to learn banking. Ever since I was a child, I loved banking. Dad bought me one of those digital money counting jars. You know the ones you put cash in, and it counts it for you?" Dr Stark nodded. "Well, I put all my pocket money in their most weeks and saved it," she grinned a little, seemingly embarrassed. "I also wrote down on paper every dollar I had. Whereas Colin would put his money in the jar and the thing would hardly have time to count it before it was gone again, spent!" Dr Stark chuckled. "Even before that when I had a good old fashioned piggy bank, I'd write down what was in it. Finance, outgoings, living expenses, all that stuff has always interested me. When I grew older, mom and dad allowed me to help them manage theirs. Colin was always hopeless," she laughed. "You'd ask him to save for a week and he'd manage about five days before he'd buy something! Game for his play station, CD, video, whatever. There was always something he was buying. He's a lot better now but he still comes to me for money questions and help."

Dr Stark smiled. "It's good you're doing something you're interested in."

Charlotte nodded. "Yeah, Adam tried to do what he did to her and get my money out of my account claiming it was his. But because I had too much bank knowledge, I didn't let him. He hated that fact. He took my bank card, but by the time he tried to use it I'd already cancelled it. I put every security measure possible on my account and he got nowhere near my money. I even asked dad to have power of attorney. Not because I didn't trust myself or couldn't manage my cash, but because I didn't want that little shit getting my money. Adam was so angry," Charlotte smiled in satisfaction. "I started a paper round just for a bit extra and Adam got nowhere near it."

"What about Colin?" Dr Stark asked. "What's he doing now?"

"He's training to be a Lawyer," Charlotte smiled proudly. "He's doing well too. He's a good guy, although I guess I would say that," she laughed. "But he's also fair. He'll make a damn good Lawyer.

Dr Stark smiled. "So, you're hoping to get into banking? Are you studying it for a lifelong career?"

"I hope so," Charlotte nodded. "I know there's a lot of training to do, but I'll feel top of the world when I get behind that bullet proof glass and help people with their finances. Even if I will be jealous if they're richer than me. But seriously, I'm not in this for the money, I'm in it because I love it. Mom's a taxi driver and dad works in government, civil servant. I'm glad though that the first thing I've been able to do is get our bank accounts protected. I know you guys have power of attorney for her because I set it up," she smiled. "I haven't taken dad off mine yet either. I don't intend to do that until Adam is locked up."

As Dr Stark finally made to leave, Charlotte spoke again. "Can I ask you something? There's something I really want to do for her, but I need your permission to do it."

As she got out of the shower now, Charlotte smiled to herself. Dr Stark was a genuinely kind and caring person, not just in it for the money herself either. She genuinely cared about her patients, that much was obvious. If she was a patient here, Charlotte would want to be treated by her. Dr Clarkson was just as professional and caring as Dr Stark was. The latter had stayed with her a lot longer last night than Charlotte had ever planned or intended, and she'd really appreciated that. It'd been almost midnight when the Psychiatrist had finally left. Charlotte had slept like a log. It was the best night's sleep she'd got in weeks. Before leaving, the doctor had told her that Michael had guided Danielle back to her cell and was now inside with her. Charlotte had smiled with genuine happiness at hearing that. Now she just had to convince her friend to tell the killer the truth. That she loved him. Now, charlotte pulled on her change of clothes and pressed the green button beside her bed. There were two. One green, one red. The green one alerted the guards on duty that she was about to come down and would need access back into Danielle's part of the hospital. The red one brought guards immediately to her suite. It was a panic button just in case. Sure enough, five minutes later when she followed the path, she and Dr Stark had taken the night before, one of the guards was waiting for her.

"Good morning charlotte," he greeted her with a friendly smile. "I'm Jack."

"Hey jack," she smiled back at him. "She told me about you."

Jack groaned. "Oh god! I bet she did!"

Charlotte couldn't help it and started to laugh. "She told me about how you showed her your equipment and that she asked you if your wife's name was Jill!"

The guard rolled his eyes as he opened the first door for her. "I get that all the time."

Charlotte grinned and followed him through one beeping door after another.

"How did you sleep?" Jack asked.

"Like a log thanks," Charlotte said. "I was more tired than I thought. I didn't see you hear yesterday though?"

He nodded. "This is my first day back so you wouldn't have done. Joanne was on overtime yesterday. I'm on the team with Rick, Ryan, Joanne, and a few others."

"Ah," Charlotte nodded back at him. "Got you."

They finally entered the patient's canteen and Danielle was sitting at the closest table. But Charlotte couldn't help but look passed her friend. Michael Myers was sitting opposite her, chained by ankles and wrists. Two guards stood either side of him.

"Morning," Charlotte said, trying not to sound nervous being this close to Myers without glass between them.

"Hey C," she smiled and stood, walking over, and hugging her. "How did you sleep?"

"Great thanks, you?"

"Yeah, not bad."

"Hi Michael," Charlotte smiled at the chained killer. He looked over at her, but Charlotte was almost certain his eyes had been on her from the moment she'd entered the room. "How are you?" The killer gave her a very slight nod.

"Hey, I spoke to Dr Stark last night and she's authorised this. There's a little café about half an hour from the hospital, I'm allowed to take you for some breakfast. You up for it?"

"God yes!" she said without hesitation. "I'd love to get out of here for a bit!" The two of them had moved away from Michael and the other patients and were speaking quietly so they couldn't hear. "I'm sure. Well, come on then, let's go."

…

It took the two women a little while to get out of SG, security was obviously high, coming from the maximum-security ward. But Dr Stark had contacted the gatehouse, given them Charlotte's car registration, and confirmed she had authorised this. Still, the guards checked the car to make sure no one was in the trunk and Charlotte's ID. Charlotte smiled at them and was only too happy to co-operate. Finally, they were through and heading on to the main highway. "Let's put some music on!" Charlotte said cheerfully and pressed a button on the radio. Tears for fears were soon playing over the car speakers. She smiled happily. She pressed the button to open her electric window and felt the cool air on her face. She sighed in pleasure.

They reached the small restaurant Charlotte had eaten at before when coming to visit. The food was gorgeous. Soon the two of them were sitting in a booth, waiting for their full English breakfasts, and steaming cups of tea.

"So," Charlotte said as their drinks arrived. "Spill! How did it go last night?"

She smiled and spoke in a low voice so only Charlotte could hear. "It was… Amazing. He held me beside the waterfall in the exercise yard."

"There's a waterfall out there? Nice! You love waterfalls, don't you?"

"Yeah, and I finally told Joanne that yesterday. We were sitting by it, and it just came out. You know I've always associated them with romance, I confided to her I'd have loved Michael to hold me beside it. But I was sure that couldn't happen, too many security risks and all that. But I was wrong. Eventually, Michael came out and did just that. I'd fallen asleep and my head touching his shoulder woke me up."

"Did he let you touch his ears?" Charlotte smirked.

She blushed. "Yes."

Charlotte whistled. "Then get in their girl! How many times do I have to tell you? Get in there, do it, tell him!"

"But…" she began.

"Listen!" Charlotte spoke over her. "Think about it. For one it'll be good for your therapy, showing you're recovering from that bastard, and second because it'll help Michael too."

"How?"

"Because he's never been loved before of course. He's a killer. Who would love a killer? That would be his frame of mind. But you could show him he's wrong. Yes, he's a killer, but that doesn't mean he can't be loved. If you really love him, then tell him. It could help him more than you or I could ever realise."

She considered her best friend's words. "Hmm. You might be right their C. I… well I didn't really think about it like that if I'm honest. Or at least, I didn't think about it that way."

"From your perspective? Or Michael's?"

"Either, if I'm totally honest with you. But mostly Michael's. This is going to sound… well maybe unbelievable, but when we got close I… almost didn't see Michael Myers the masked killer, I saw a caring man. I of course didn't forget he's a killer, I can't of course. I know what he did twenty years ago, not to mention his sister, but that wasn't the man I got to know."

"There you are then. That just proves my point! Tell him, Dan."

"But… I don't know if I can. What if I'm released and I never see Michael again? How can I tell him I love him, as in I'd love to be in a relationship with him but then I never see him again?"

"Do you really think that'll happen?" Charlotte lowered her voice further. "I don't think Dr Loomis or Dr Stark will let it, if you get what I'm saying. They'll reunite you somehow, I'm certain of this. I mean, think about it. You told me yourself. Jefferson was killed and what did the guards do to stop Michael? John Baker was killed and what did the guards do to stop Michael? They let it happen. All the while putting on a show for the cameras. I'm telling you; they won't let you not see him again."

"You think?" she sounded utterly amazed by her friend's words.

"You don't?" Charlotte asked her.

"I… I don't know," she admitted. "I guess I never even considered that!"

"Well," Charlotte said, still in a very low voice. "In that case I suggest you trust me on this one. Plus, let's just say hypothetically you didn't get to see Michael again. Would you want to part with him knowing you hadn't told him? It might be painful for you for a while, but you might end up regretting it if you don't. Not just for you, but for Michael too. He'll know someone loves him. Whether he believes it or not is a choice only he can make. But at least he'll know."

She was silent for a few moments, thinking over everything her best friend and good as sister had just said. Was she right? She didn't speak again until the waitress had brought them their breakfasts. "Hmm. I can't argue with anything you've just said C. I just hope I've got the guts to tell him."

"Ok, I understand that, but is that because you're just nervous? Like normal? Or is it because part of you is afraid to as he's a killer? But surely you know he'd never hurt you, right?"

"I'm almost certain yeah," she said.

"Almost?" Charlotte queried. "After you've spent nights in a locked room with him alone? After he's held you and let you touch his ears? Even after all that, you're afraid?"

"I know," she sounded embarrassed. "It makes no sense, and I don't like it, but yes, a little."

"Alright," Charlotte conceded. "I guess I understand that. He is still a serial killer. But why would he hurt you for telling him you love him? If you said you hated him then alright, I could see that. But for telling him you love him?"

"Thinks I'm lying?" she said, but it sounded more like a question than a fact. "Or that I have an ulterior motive? Or I'm tricking him? It seems like he believes we weren't responsible for… you know, yesterday, but is it too soon? Should I wait a while? Just in case?"

"Only you can make that decision Dan. No one else can for you. But if I'm honest, I wouldn't be surprised if your release is getting close. Would you?"

"I don't know. I thought about that myself a couple of days ago. But the fact we're here now is the biggest sign of that I've seen since I got there. Surely Dr Stark wouldn't have let this happen if it wasn't?"

"There you go then. You might not have much time. Or at least, not as much time as you think. Plus, why keep putting yourself through this? It's clear you want to tell him, so tell him! Don't keep your silence! You want him to know, he deserves to know. Look at everything he's done for you."

With that last statement at least, she couldn't argue.

…

…Derek lay in his cell, anger growing within him. Something had just dawned on him which he hadn't considered before. If his suspicions were right, Adam Dawson was a dead man! He'd kill him as slowly and painfully as he could. He would never have sex with a man, but he had plenty of tools he could stick up Dawson's… He took a breath and tried to reign in those thoughts. There was no point thinking like that. Not yet. He was nowhere near Dawson right now, first he'd have to get out of this hell hole. But by God he would! Adam Dawson deserved everything he got. He knew he'd have to pretend to be at least civil to him until then, hell the prick had promised him money. So, by God he was going to keep that promise! But once he had that, Derek would finish him off! He could hardly believe that for the first time ever he was very probably united with Michael Myers. Both wanted Dawson dead, all be it for different reasons.

Chancer wasn't stupid. He'd realised exactly what'd really happened earlier that day.

…

"Chancer," a guard approached his door. Derek couldn't remember his name. "Mr. Sarcozi is here to see you."

Derek had tucked the iPod in to a pocket of his uniform, and now allowed the guard to shackle and lead him out of the block towards a visitor's room. Once again, there was Sarcozi, separated from him by a thick wall of glass. Derek waited until the guard had removed his shackles and left, before looking through it at his ex-friend. "Mark."

"Hi Derek," Mark's voice came through the concealed speakers. "How are you?"

"All the better for seeing you," Derek drawled and saw Mark flinch. He knew Derek was being sarcastic. There was a moment's silence, before Mark spoke again. "I hear you want more music put on your iPod?"

Chancer recognised the code immediately. I'm here to fix your iPod. But of course, Sarcozi couldn't say that. The visitor's rooms were all audibly and visually recorded. So, he played along. "Yes," he said, sliding the small device through the gap in the glass which without its case, just fitted through.

He watched as Sarcozi picked it up on the other side and withdrew something from his pocket. Derek had no idea what it was. He plugged it in to the iPod and unlocked the device. Derek guessed Leach or someone had told him the password. There was silence as Mark did whatever he was doing. Eventually, he looked up at Derek.

"There you go," he said brightly, sliding the device back through to Derek's side. "Turn it on again and it'll be packed with even more stuff for you."

So, did that mean it was fixed? It would no longer buzz and have a screen which looked like shit? "Thanks," Derek said. "I'll look forward to listening to it."

…

Just as Derek had expected, Sarcozi hadn't hung around. He was gone five minutes later. Derek had been taken back to his cell and did as Sarcozi had instructed, turning the iPod back on again.

The first time he did it, it made no difference. So, he left it while he went for dinner. He'd try again when he got back.

So now here he was, turning on the iPod for the second time. Sure enough, it was no longer buzzing, and the screen was perfectly clear once more. It was then that he'd started thinking about what'd just happened, as he lay there on his bed.

Ok. So, the iPod had started acting up the night before. Suddenly out of the blue, Sarcozi was there to "fix" it. Derek had contacted Leach as soon as the thing had started playing up and by the next day, it was "fixed" again. Something about this didn't feel right to him. But what? Mark had indeed updated the content, there was now a lot more music and porn on it. But had that just been his cover? A way of disguising what he'd really been doing in case the guards had another look at it? It made no sense. Mark must've known the thing was broken. He wouldn't have just turned up out of the blue, like magic, to update Derek's fucking play list! So why? There was something he wasn't seeing yet, there had to be.

He thought back over his conversations with Dawson. About how the iPod wasn't working when directed at Hayward's cell. He stood up and pointed it down the corridor and immediately heard a door slam somewhere, as clearly as if he was right next to it. So, it was working now alright.

That was when Derek Chancer started to join the dots. He was many things, but stupid wasn't one of them. He knew he wasn't a very intelligent man; he'd taken no notice in school and had frequently played truant. His IQ was far from high. But right here, now, he was starting to realise what'd happened. He'd been tricked, tested. That little fucker Dawson was checking the iPod was really working! There was no other explanation for why it would suddenly "break." It hadn't broken at all! Dawson had got Leach or one of his fucking goons to programme the buzzing and crap picture on to it. Then the next day, Sarcozi turns up out of the blue to "update his play list," and hey presto! The iPod is working like new again!

Dawson hadn't believed him. He thought Derek was lying to him. Derek couldn't help but admire and marvel the prick's logic and thinking. He could very well have been lying to him. The fact he wasn't did nothing to soften Derek's anger. If anything, it worsened it. That little shit! The iPod hadn't been broken at all. It'd been programmed to act "broken." That little device Sarcozi had bought had updated the content sure, but Derek was certain his old "friend" had also listened with it briefly, making sure it was working. Then when he'd left, he'd contacted Leach to confirm Derek was indeed telling the truth and just like magic, the buzzing and screen problem was gone, as if it'd never been there.