Deus Ex Human Revolution: Shadow's Showdown

"Leave it on. I like this song," she said quietly.

So he had to continue to endure this torture but despite his desire, he did not protest. He bit his lip so hard that he immediately felt the sweet-metallic taste of blood in his mouth.

And we keep driving into the night, It's a late goodbye, such a late goodbye And we keep driving into the night, it's a late goodbye

When they reached the house, he helped her take off her jacket and shoes. In doing so, he expected a terrible argument, but Laura was calm. Too calm for what she had accustomed him to. She marched to the bathroom and then straight to bed before he had time to suggest it to her. Dressed in his pyjamas, he joined her moments later, handing her a mug of hot cocoa.

"Wounds bothered you a lot when we were at Rupert's?" he asked, turning a grey mug in his hands. For her, he prepared a blue one. He bought it on purpose, though he knew it would disturb the harmonies of the grey. Maybe that's not a bad thing? "Yes and no," she replied. "I forgot about the pain for a while, but then it reminded me about its existence."

Connor turned the mug in his hands again, giving by that an expression of nervousness, and looked at his reflection peering at the surface of the brown liquid. "I didn't tell you about Adam and the funeral because I saw the state you were in. I knew it would have killed you. I was afraid, so damn afraid. That's why I kept silent."

Honesty, a step forward, a step toward being a better person. Am I sure I’m still human? Where does humanity end? Maybe I am already a machine? - these questions have haunted him for many years. He set his mug down on the nightstand and wanted to go to sleep but when he turned his head he encountered Laura's green, sparkling eyes. They seemed unnaturally large and extraordinarily beautiful to him. They attracted him, hypnotized him, tempted him. He fought the temptation, although anyone else in his position would certainly have given up without a fight and seized the opportunity. He wouldn't, despite how close they had become in recent times. Despite how much events had brought them together. He trembled more and more overwhelmed with fear.

Your breath hot upon my cheek and we crossed that line

He did not know when it happened, but their lips joined in a long, passionate kiss. His struggle proved futile, and he felt bad about it. It went against all his principles, yet he couldn't break the moment. They had already kissed at Sarif's ball, but then it was completely different. It was just a game. At least that's how he explained it. He wanted to push Laura away, but his hands froze in mid-motion. The body stopped listening to commands. It gave up.

You made me strong when I was feeling weak and we crossed that one time Screaming stop signs, staring wild eyes, keep on flashing, flashing by (flashing)

Her lips were soft and sweet, perfectly balancing the bitterness ingrained in him. Laura was very forceful, perhaps even slightly insistent. He could have sworn she stroked his palate with her tongue, but maybe it was his imagination that was more creative than usual. They lingered like this in non-being, somewhere between waking up and dreaming, in a stagnant silence broken only by the hum of cars that passed by his house from time to time. When he decided to get carried away with the moment and accepted that he was lost, she cut the kiss by pushing him away slightly.

"I'm sorry, that was inappropriate. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm stupid." She looked away, embarrassed, blushing, beautiful. "We're just humans, and humans do all sorts of strange things. Apparently we both needed it," Connor replied calmly, though he did not know by what miracle he was able to put aside his emotions. Embarrassment came later and was even greater when he realized he had used the word "both." "I gave you unnecessary hope," she said. "Nonsense. We've known each other for a while. If there was going to be a fiery feeling between us, it would have happened long ago." He lied. The feeling had long since burst into flame, but only he knew about it. "But…" "Forget about it," his voice now took on a firmness, sounding almost like an order. He had to, otherwise things would get bad. "Fine," she replied, gaining a slight smile. "If you had told me about the funeral earlier, I would have bought flowers," she changed the subject, sensing that Dale was not at all easily distanced from her gesture. "I don't have anything suitable to wear." "Relax, there will be plenty of time in the morning. We'll drive over to your place and then to the flower shop." "Mhm…" she muttered.

Laura fell asleep before Connor had time to add he should change her dressing. He covered her with a quilt and a moment later fell asleep beside her himself. He should go to the other room but didn't have the strength. Besides it could look awkward in the current situation and negate his earlier statement.

The morning broke into Dale's sleepy reality with a loud purring and merciless scratching of his belly. He probably would have ignored this fact had it not been for the accompanying excruciating pain and the simultaneous feeling that the room was terribly hot. His sleepy gaze soon sharpened on the big cat eyes staring at him.

"Stalker…" he muttered quietly, not wanting to wake Laura.

He blinked several times trying to catch the focus of his vision and verify he was at his home. Moments earlier, he had been sitting in the cockpit of the spaceship, typing in the coordinates of the planet he was about to travel to on the touch screen. Master Pai Mei gave him an important quest to find socks. Not just any socks. One was to be right, and the other left, both in a perfectly harmonious grey colour. He visited plenty of empty planets, asked the locals, and was even in a nightclub where he intended to rest before departing but the place was uninteresting and only a few people were lazily swaying to the fast pace of electronic music so he decided to move on. After dozens of hours of travel he had about a hundred pairs of socks but none of them formed that perfect pair so he continued to fly aimlessly and the journey seemed endless.

As he untangled his legs from under the quilt, he noticed he was wearing jeans and a thick wool sweater. This was more ridiculous than his dream. He hurriedly took the cat in his arms and marched to the kitchen. Through all the commotion, he forgot refilling the food dispenser. In the process, he replaced the water in the bowl with clean water, while incessantly thinking why he slept with his clothes on. He was sure he had put on his pyjamas but maybe through fatigue he only thought so. The clock ticking on the wall announced it was about seven in the morning, so he was going to change his clothes, go back to bed and indulge in a little more sweet laziness. On his way to the bathroom he saw his pyjamas lying on the floor, his jacket right next to it, his cap carelessly thrown on the cabinet and his muddy shoes, one of which was lying near the door and the other standing by the pouffe. Once he had put all his things in order, he noticed a scarf hanging from a lamp. He pulled carefully at its end while sighing helplessly. He suspected it was Laura who had played a prank on him however he could not ask her about it. Having changed his clothes, he marched to the bedroom and, sitting on the edge of the bed, slipped his slippers off his feet, placing them perfectly evenly next to each other. The tip of the left slipper was already beginning to rub through, making it less grey than the other at this point, which irritated Connor immensely. That's why it was so hard for him to accept he could leave his clothes scattered and his shoes dirty. Unfortunately, in addition to further analyzing the bizarre event, he was quickly overwhelmed by new concerns about how Laura would behave at the funeral. He sincerely hoped nothing untoward would happen.

An hour later they were sitting together in the kitchen eating breakfast although it was more Dale who swallowed the prepared meal while Laura bit into her sandwich maybe twice. They didn't talk much beyond the necessary communication. When they finished, Connor went to the bathroom, while Laura returned to the room and prepared her clothes to go out. Dale, mindful of Laura's condition, tried not to rush her, but there was not as much time as he assumed.

"I'm sorry for being so clumsy. We'll probably be late," she sighed with resignation as she tried unsuccessfully to zip up her jacket. "We'll make it in time if you know what you want to wear and what flowers to buy," he replied, helped Laura deal with the zipper and corrected her cap, which was tilted to the right a bit too much.

A quarter of an hour later they were already outside her house. Connor wanted to go with Laura, but she assured she could manage on her own and it wouldn't take too long. Actually, she wasn't lying, although what she was wearing made his fears confirmed.

"I don't think you have any intention of…" "Yes I do," she replied in a firm tone, interrupting him in mid-sentence. "But…" "If you want to be on time, you'd better save the remarks for yourself," she added. "You've obviously forgotten we're going to a funeral, not a party," he didn't want to give up but if they were going to make it in time, he had to give in to her so he sighed, let out the air loudly and started the engine.

On the way, they stopped in front of a flower shop. Dale didn't want to know what she would come up with this time. She came out carrying a bouquet of forget-me-nots and an amaranth orchid. He had hoped for something more appropriate but it could have been worse. Connor drove the car as perfectly as he behaved every day, and that irritated Laura, especially today. If she had been the one driving, at least a few times she would have allowed herself to exceed the speed limit or speed up when the light changed from green to red. She had a feeling that even Adam wouldn't be so by the book.

Detroit. Cemetery.

The cemetery, placed near the church, was not large, making the gathered people crowd like ants in an anthill. Rectangular space was fenced with a stone wall, having not many gravestones on it and a few old trees. Laura recognized some of the faces she saw in the company corridor. There were those obnoxious whores, who saw in Jensen only a nice ass, and also those who would most willingly get rid of Laura. Her observations were interrupted by a sudden tug on her arm. The woman's gaze went straight to the source of the gesture.

"It's good you came. Otherwise, I would have torn you apart with my own hands," she heard Faridah's quiet but extremely aggressive tone. "Although I should for what you’re wearing." "Let her go," interrupted Connor firmly. "You don't even know what kind of hell she's been through." "Are you going to defend her now?" she snarled, stepping back and intertwining her hands on her chest. "We'll talk about it later and in another place. For example, at my house after the funeral," he suggested. "Be that as it may. Now follow me. After all, you are more important than half of these insincere colleagues."

Malik paved the way and soon they found themselves next to Pritchard, Athene and David Sarif. Frank looked odd, to say the least, in his black coat and panama type hat. There were also two people there whom Laura didn't know but guessed were probably Adam's parents. The man stood confidently on his feet, upright with his head proudly raised. He was tall, slim and athletic, bringing to mind a security guard or military officer. He gave the impression of someone of icy character as if he didn't care he had lost his son. He wore a perfectly tailored black coat and an elegant hat. Next to him stood a woman, rather slim and reaching the man's shoulder in height. She couldn't see the faces of both of them because at the moment they were standing with their backs to her, exchanging a few words with Sarif, who was so nice that if she didn't know him she would get caught in those business tricks.

Before the ceremony began, it started to rain, which momentarily turned into thick snow. Soon a sea of umbrellas spilled over the cemetery, and Connor looked triumphantly at Laura, who only sighed. Before they got out of the Aston Martin she had argued with him about the umbrella he now held over his head and hers. The anticipation was increasingly unbearable. She felt like she was hearing whispers, accusations and remarks. She wouldn't have cared so much if it had been about appearance. Unfortunately, they were talking about the fact that she was the one who contributed to the death of Adam and many other people. She wanted to run away, to disappear, to squander everything she had worked out during her visit to Rupert. The woman looked behind her trying to find the best route of escape, carefully planning every move. Her intentions were interrupted by the Scot, standing together with Demelza not far from the old oak tree. He was her salvation in this difficult moment. One look from him was enough to give her strength.

The ceremony, though it seemed long, flashed by in time, stopping at a question addressed to those gathered. "Does anyone want to say anything?" - rumbled in her head. A growing hesitation, uncertainty, and fear. Maybe she shouldn't, but after all, she wanted to. She had to.

"I'd like to say a few words," she announced in a loud, confident tone.

The crowd murmured, Connor looked at her in horror. Faridah shook her head, escaping with her gaze to the side. Sarif, on the other hand, remained unmoved, as if Adam was just one of his pawns to be replaced. Laura stepped forward and stood next to the pit where the coffin rested. It was cherry-coloured and had an ornate plaque with name, surname and dates. Adam Jensen - the inscription proclaimed. She still couldn't believe it. It still didn't occur to her that she had lost him as well. A rotten world, full of insincerity and evil. Unfortunately, this is not a movie. Here there are no superheroes with immense powers. There are only ordinary people, mostly indifferent to what is happening around them. Reconciled to everything that follows.

"I know most of you are outraged by my appearance, however, I think Adam would not like to see us depressed. Especially if it is forced by the situation. That's why I'm sincere and will say goodbye to him dressed in a blue coat, dress and wide-brimmed derby hat. I will say goodbye to him as he deserves, and in my memory, he will shine like gold, forever. I will smile and rejoice because he probably travelled to a better world. Free of lies and conspiracies. This is not goodbye, but only a fond farewell, because one day maybe we will meet again and you will greet me with that husky voice of yours saying "Good morning". I will miss you, though I hope you are happy."

The crowd murmured even more like a swarm of agitated bees. Laura walked closer and threw a bouquet of forget-me-nots on the lid of the coffin.

"I will never forget you, grumpy Cerberus," she whispered.

As she turned back to Connor, she could have sworn that Sarif's lips twitched in a smile of recognition or disdain. Faridah wanted to say something but only opened her mouth. Laura looked back toward Rupert, who silently clapped his hands, letting her know her actions were right. Soon the ceremony was over and the crowd slowly dwindled, walking through narrow gates. Malik still couldn't believe Adam was gone, although she was more surprised that Laura didn't shed a single tear unlike her. After all, they were already so close and she cared so much about him. What had happened beyond her knowledge? And why is Laura moving with such difficulty?

"Are we going home?" asked Dale, again shielding her with an umbrella. "I'd like to talk to Rupert for a while, and then visit one more place.

Connor guessed who the orchid was for and fear gripped him again. He followed the woman with his eyes until Faridah interrupted him.

"I can come at five o'clock today if you don't mind," she said in a cool tone. "Of course, you're welcome," he replied politely, though he knew it would be a difficult conversation.

"It's good to see you, my dear, despite the circumstances," Demelza greeted her with usual kindness, then wiped her eyes with a checkered handkerchief. "It’s good to see you too. Your presence has helped me a lot," she said looking at them.

Only now did grief overwhelm her and Laura realized that she simply was stressed. She felt the chill of the wind blowing and the cold snowflakes hitting against her cheeks. Rupert, seeing the state she was in, came over and shielded her with an umbrella.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "You're welcome. You were very brave today. I may question your choice of outfit, but you were able to push the boundaries. You will be remembered, that's for sure. Maybe even appreciated." "I don't care about recognition. I did it for myself, that's what my conscience and gut dictated. Adam was very principled, however, I know he wouldn't want me to worry. Besides, I often went against his principles."

Rupert smiled slightly, suppressing laughter due to the seriousness of the situation and respect for the place. "It's true, he was the complete opposite of you, and yet you understood each other perfectly," he admitted, nodding at the same time.

Laura wanted to say something more but was interrupted by Connor as if he didn't want her to talk to Rupert.

"Forgive me for interrupting, but we should get back," he suggested. "You can go back on your own, I'll stay here some more," she replied.

Dale didn't want to argue, not here. He didn't want to be overprotective either, but the woman needed to rest in a warm bed, besides, they were going to visit one more place and Faridah will visit them later.

"Faridah will visit us today."

These words electrified Laura, causing her to anxiously shift from one foot to the other. She had not expected this confrontation, not today. There seemed to be nothing left of the old friendship, only regret and hostility.

"You know you can visit us anytime you want," the psychologist reminded her. "Now I certainly know," she replied jokingly. "See you around. Stay safe." "See you, my dear. We'll be waiting," Demelza replied.

Detroit.

Connor knew which place Laura wanted to visit so he just drove while she silently held an orchid in her hands. The Aston Martin gently turned right and fit into the gap between the two cars. The woman got out on her own and disappeared into the alley after a while. He didn't even ask if he could accompany her. Maybe he should go there? What if someone is there? If she is in danger again? Doubts rolled around in his head creating surreal images. Still, he restrained his imagination before the creations escalated into something even more preposterous. He turned on the radio and immediately cursed quietly under his breath. Today he certainly has bad luck with his song selection.

Birds are born with no shackles Then what fetters my fate? Blown away, the white petals Leave me trapped in the cage

The endless isolation Can wear down my illusion Someday, I'll make a dream unchained

Laura looked around the yard. She had the impression that time had stood still here. The old, dirty mattresses, from which springs were sticking out, still remembered the events of that evening. The broken glass had not been cleaned up by anyone. The lamp post invariably looked on from above with the eye of a bulb hidden behind half-shattered plastic. Even the outlines of the bodies that the police had marked with white paint were still visible on the dark, cracked concrete. Everything was the same, except for the framed picture lying on the ground. The woman crouched down to take a closer look at it. It depicted a black silhouette trapped in a reddish-black lump resembling solidified lava. The figure had broken purple wings from which red liquid, probably blood, was dripping.

Laura's first instinct was to run away, she was overwhelmed with horror that once again Kratos was trying to dominate her life. She wanted to be as far away from this place as possible, to hide somewhere where he wouldn't find her. She was beginning to descend into madness again, and the madness consuming her was nothing but another victory for the enemy. Enough! - she shouted in her mind. So many times she had promised herself she would take up this fight, and each time she lost. Adam's life, Joe's life, how much more must happen for her to finally be hungry for vengeance? She hid the picture in her handbag and looked around the square once more, searching for something that could be a vase. She found a paint can, which she weighted down with a few stones and put the flower in it then went back to where Joe had died and placed an orchid on the ground.

"I will not run away again, Joe. Your wings will now be mine, I will fulfil my dream of freedom. I know I keep saying this, but I promise you that Kratos will pay for everything. Every our scar will be his scar. Finally, you will be able to be proud of me. You will always have a place in my heart, I will always remember your every smile, every bad day, our arguments and what separated us. Something that was supposed to be ours and never became real because of Kratos. I will always love you, Navras."

Let my heart bravely spread the wings Soaring past the night, to trace the primal light Let the clouds heal me of the stains Gently wipe the sorrow of my life I dream

The wind swept across the yard, hitting Laura with a piercing cold and almost snatching the hat from her head. She gripped it tightly with both hands, waiting for the wind to stop. She heard the sound of breaking glass and ringing metal. Her gaze momentarily went in the direction from which it came, but she saw no one. It was certainly the wind, so she ignored the incident, focusing her gaze on the orchid for a moment longer. Parting was something she couldn't handle at all, so she stood despite the biting cold and snow. The woman closed her eyes, and after a moment the feeling that she was not alone here overwhelmed her. She felt warmth as if someone was embracing her, and a warm breath right next to her ear made her tremble. She let the feeling carry her away. If only for a moment.

"I know you'd like to stay here a lot longer, but we should get back. It's getting colder," Connor's quiet voice made her jump slightly in place. "You scared me," she said a little angry that he had interrupted such an important moment for her by invading her private space. Nevertheless, he was right, the weather was getting worse, she was not feeling well, and the edge of her coat was gradually soaking up with water. Besides, Faridah was about to visit them. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to disturb you, but I had to," he tried to explain with a partial lie. Yes, they should be home by now however he was actually worried about whether someone had attacked her. "Give me a moment more, I'll be right there," she asked, though it was the kind of tone that doesn't like refusal. "Okay, but not too long," he muttered and reluctantly returned to the car.

Left alone again, Laura took the picture out of her handbag and took another look at it. She wondered who could have left it there. Was it really Damien, who had smashed glass while watching her, and tripped over a garbage trash can while running away? Her head spun but she managed to catch her balance and immediately moved toward the main street.

"Goodbye," she said, stopping for a moment and looking back.

What is meant by miraclе? A word outside my days Once again, with the bubblеs But how could I escape?

No further hesitation On those unanswered questions So now, I'll make a dream unchained

Connor breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her, but the expression on his face clouded slightly when he saw with what difficulty Laura was moving. He momentarily got out of the Aston Martin, helped her reach the car and take her place in the passenger seat. The woman was remarkably calm, even cheerful as if she got rid of the burden she had been carrying all along.

"Let's go home," she said quietly fastening her seat belt.

Dale merely nodded and started the engine.

The woman sighed. His empathy seems to have been eaten by a dog, she thought. Now she couldn't hide anything anymore. Besides, she had come here to talk, and by not being honest she was only hurting herself.

"About the fact that I wanted to kill myself. He'll think he's won again and has power over me."

Rupert furrowed his brow. He despised suicidal people, but his personal beliefs could not interfere with his professional ones. Remaining impartial and listening to what Laura has to say is part of his job. Being as tactful as possible was his key to success in building trust. Besides, she was starting to become more than just a patient. The psychologist realized how big mistake he was making but justified it by the fact that their meetings were unofficial sessions. She didn't even have her medical file.

"Will you tell me more, Evie?" he used her other name intentionally. "Your secrets will remain among the walls of this office," he assured with convincing sincerity.

The woman sighed, and fled with her eyes to the right toward a semicircular niche filled with bookshelves, where had probably been a fireplace in the past. Evie knew she could trust him. Though the feeling was strong, she still hesitated. Uncertainty concerned Damien and his willingness to take Rupert as a target. On the other hand, he could have done something a long time ago so what she says now doesn't matter anyway.

"Adam and Joe's deaths are solely my fault," she choked out. The words burned her throat and tongue as if she had eaten some of the hottest peppers in existence.

Rupert sighed, let the air out through his nose then reached into his pants pocket for a cotton handkerchief. He then took off his glasses and began wiping them. "Talk, talk, I'm listening all the time," he assured.

The man's behaviour threw her off balance. What was he trying to achieve with this? She thought.

"Why do you think that?" he asked, pointing the lenses of his glasses toward the light. "If I hadn't been in their lives, Damien would have had no reason to kill them." "How can you be sure he did it? Maybe he was just a pawn in the game, or your subconscious is connecting events in the wrong way?" "I was at the company when the attack started. Damien sent me a clear message. Besides, I made a serious mistake." The woman bit her lips and clenched the hem of her sweater in her hands. "While strengthening the company's cyber security, I used a code, a way… tricks?" she tried to explain. The Scot furrowed his brow. "I think I know what you mean." Evie nodded her head. Not for a moment did she look in the direction of the interlocutor. "Damien took advantage of this fact as if knowing I would do so, and paralyzed the monitoring. After that, everything was easy." "How did he know your methods?" The psychologist focused his attention on the woman. He decided to use the information he received in the best possible way. At times like this if someone is lying or wants to conceal certain things it is easy to make a mistake. The right words can lead to making one."He taught them to me himself. He thought Joe was too gentle when he tried to break security and use electronic components for his purposes. That's why Damien showed me more invasive and brutal methods, which very often involved killing innocents. I never used them myself, but among them were tricks to make it harder to break security or track someone down. I didn't even think about harming the company with these. I didn't think Adam would get killed because of me…" "You know, I can keep repeating to the point of boredom that it's not your fault but you have to see it yourself before it's too late. I noticed that Connor is close to you so you are not alone. Let yourself be helped instead of piling up silly ideas in your head about jumping off the roof. I have no idea at all how you survived that fall."

Laura explained everything to Rupert. She talked about Connor being an aug and that, all in all, her jump was just an unfortunate accident. The Scot only nodded, but she felt a strange distance and even hostility toward her. Never before had he been so distant and spoken in such a cold tone. He was firm, sometimes brutal in what he said, but it always had a therapeutic purpose. Now, however, something had changed in his approach as if he had lost all his professionalism.

"Tell me as honestly as you can," she decided to take advantage of his weakness and expose it. "Do you see me as an unperson now?" "I do," he admitted openly. "What you wanted to do is contrary to my views. However, I made a serious mistake and allowed my private opinions to stand out."

The woman fled with her eyes to the side. On the one hand, she had achieved her goal and learned Rupert was treating her differently from the rest of the patients, and on the other, it hurt that he despised her so much.

"It doesn't surprise me at all," she replied. "Let me remind you that we are not discussing private beliefs. You came here for a specific purpose, didn't you, Laura? Or should I call you Evie? I don't know who you really are, but that's irrelevant." "Currently I am Laura. Maybe one day I'll be Evie again. I don't know." "It depends only on you."

The Scot's cool tone gradually made Laura retreat and close in on herself again instead of opening up and talking about problems. Rupert sighed, he wanted to say something but Demelza had just knocked on the office door announcing it was time to eat dinner. For the psychologist, it was a temporary salvation, but he couldn't leave Laura like that. He was far too harsh on her.

When they entered the dining room, Connor greeted them with a broad smile while finishing setting the table. Soon after, Demelza brought a tureen of soup and everyone sat down to dinner. Laura, despite Dale's insistence, was unable to eat anything. She now felt like an unwanted intruder and would have been most happy to go home. Rupert was sitting across from her, although his seat should have been on the shorter side of the rectangular table. His presence made the situation even worse. However, she forced herself to eat at least a spoonful of soup out of politeness.

"Don't you like the broth?" asked the concerned hostess while wrinkling her brows. "It's delicious, I love broth. I just don't eat much now," she replied, trying to keep her gaze on Demelza.

For a moment Connor wanted to deny Laura was eating like a bird, but it occurred to him in time that clearly something had happened in the study, and the result of the event was now visible. The Scot could no longer stand the tension that had condensed over the table and hung in a thick, black cloud.

"Excuse us for a moment," he said, getting up from the table and at the same time placing next to his plate the, folded in half, white napkin he had earlier in his lap. "Allow with me, Laura," he said in a gentle tone, quite different from the one he had used earlier.

The woman nodded, stood up and, like him, put the napkin down. She felt that she was suffocating, and her legs were no longer obeying her. With difficulty, she left the dining room and followed Rupert to the study.

"Don't worry Connor. It's probably just a minor misunderstanding," Demelza tried to reassure, still wearing a polite smile on her face.

The man, who had reflexively pulled himself up from his seat in readiness to move after Laura, sat back in his chair.

The Scot paused at his desk. For the first time, he didn't know what he should say so he delayed turning to face her. "I shouldn't have come here. You probably have a lot of patients, and I'm taking up your time without even paying for it." The psychologist let the air out through his nose and leaned his clenched fists against the desktop. "Money doesn't mean much to me," he muttered, turning to face her and crossing his arms over his chest. "I made a huge mistake today. Not even one."

The woman looked at him intently still not knowing what thoughts were swirling in his head. "Well, you yourself condemn running away from problems. How about solving it here and now before it's too late and the broth gets quite cold?" Rupert could not respond other than to laugh but quickly became serious. "You see, until now I've been able to keep my distance between sessions with a patient, in this case you, and what happens in private. Yes, it's true that I don't tolerate suicidal people, but I still try to help them because that's what my profession requires. However, after realizing I might never see you again, the line was blurred. I began to see in you the daughter I never had and anger surged within me.""But I'm still here and am not going to the other side anymore. As I mentioned before, it was an unfortunate coincidence because I didn't want to jump at all. I mean not at that moment. Connor has an extraordinary talent for negotiating. Besides, I like coming here." It wasn't until the last of the words rang out that Laura recognized that the sentences that had been spoken created a kind of meaningless gibberish, and she felt terribly stupid.

"Then visit us whenever you want. Even without notice," he suggested. "In the meantime, we'd better get back because the broth will indeed get cold and Demelza will be angry."

Imagining an angry Demelza was beyond her power but she left her thoughts for later and followed Rupert into the dining room. They both took their seats without giving explanations. Laura ate two plates of broth, which Connor whined under his breath, "Eating like a bird, huh." Later, Rupert cut the roast, and although he didn't like it at all, he did it for the family atmosphere that accompanied this idiotic activity. It had been a long time since he had felt so good. Although he was a psychologist, he could not help himself, only Laura's presence managed to change something. It awakened in him a feeling of joy, which, however, was quickly extinguished by anxiety. He shouldn't let his personal emotions speak, but it happened.

"Rupert, would you like a second helping of roast?" asked Demelza. "Rupert?" she repeated the question when she didn't get a response. "No, thank you, dear. I'm already full," he replied when her voice was finally heard by him.

After dessert, which was a delicious apple pie, and a cup of good coffee, Rupert again took Laura to the study where he looked at the shelves of the bookcase for a while in search of a book. Finally, he took out the right one bound in soft brown leather and quickly found the page that interested him.

"Read this poem aloud," he asked, handing the book to Laura.

The woman looked at him in amazement, hesitating for a moment whether she was sure she had understood him correctly. The man gestured again, slipping her the volume. She carefully took it in her hands, fearing she might dirty the precious thing. She took a few breaths and looked uncertainly at Rupert, who nodded and began to read.

„So, we’ll go no more a roving”

So, we’ll go no more a roving So late into the night, Though the heart be still as loving, And the moon be still as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath, And the soul wears out the breast, And the heart must pause to breathe, And heart itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving, And the day returns too soon, Yet we’ll go no more a roving By the light of the moon.

As she read, she couldn't stop the tears from coming. At first, she thought it was deliberate abuse, but in time she understood the psychologist's intentions. She felt the weight carried on her shoulders begin to disappear, and although she finally let go of Joe’s hand held tightly, she felt no regret.

"Do you feel better after reading this poem?" "Yes. I'm surprised myself but by some miracle, it helped me more than anything else," she admitted quite frankly. "It helps me too when I have problems." "Then why don't you read it too?" she suggested. "You still look like something is bothering you." "You are very perceptive," he remarked and sighed. "Unfortunately, this is something I have to deal with differently."

The beating of the old clock standing in the dining room broke through into the study with a muffled sound. Laura calculated it was already six o'clock and time to go home. She reluctantly told Rupert about it, but the psychologist reiterated his offer to visit them whenever she wanted. Having said goodbye to him and Demelza, the two went outside where they were immediately greeted by a cold gust of wind. Connor opened the door of the Aston Martin, gesturing with his hand to invite the woman inside. Laura reluctantly took a step toward the car but immediately took two back.

"Why didn't you tell me about Adam's funeral?" she asked quietly, looking at the boot tracks left in the snow.

Thickening snow was biting the cheeks and nose of the woman, who was now looking at Connor waiting for an answer. He was sure Laura was about to cry, or react with rage as she always did, but she was calm. Her calmness hurt him more than any other reaction. It hurt because he knew how much hiding the truth did hurt her too.

"You should be in bed, not here," maybe a quarter of an hour had passed when she heard a still slightly sleepy voice behind her. "I can't lie in bed forever. I wanted to make breakfast," she replied, closing the fridge door. "Besides, we're going to Rupert's today anyway so I should remind myself how to walk."

Connor let the air out loudly through his nose and went to the bathroom. When he returned, Laura was just moving an omelette from the pan onto a plate.

"I don't know if you like omelette but…" "Why are you still scared of me?" he asked, pushing back his chair.

Laura blinked. Standing for a long moment, with the pan in her hand, she wondered why he asked that question and what to answer.

"For a long time I lived in confinement, and Damien caused me terrible fear and punished me severely when I did something against his will. Unfortunately, there is no easy way to forget." "I'm not Damien but Connor or if you prefer, Dale. So you don't have to be afraid of me. Besides, I like omelettes, although I liked the Lemon-Lime Cherry Pie best."

The woman smiled slightly, though the memory itself was very painful.

"That night I was afraid not only for Joe but also for you," she said, sitting down opposite him. "About me?" he asked surprised, holding up a fork with a piece of omelette impaled on it. "Yes," she said, slowly nodding her head. "We didn't talk for very long then, but you fell into my memory. I had hoped we would meet again, however, the fire changed everything." "Apparently destiny listened to your request even more than you expected." "I'm very happy about that, very happy indeed," she replied looking into his eyes. If he hadn't admitted he was an aug she probably never would have guessed. Joe's cybernetic eyes, apart from being violet, were immediately distinguishable from real ones. She had always associated them with a camera lens. Connor's eyes looked ordinary; she couldn't see anything unnatural in them. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he muttered, sipping tea from a dark grey mug. "Your eyes are…ordinary," she replied. "Ordinary?" he asked, wrinkling his brow. “What should they be like then?” "The cyber ones are instantly recognisable." Dale sighed. "We'll talk about it some other time. We should be leaving soon."

Laura was troubled by his behaviour. He suddenly started avoiding the subject even though it didn't touch on the overly personal areas of his life. At least that's how it seemed to her. The woman stood up and took the plates. She wanted to put everything in the dishwasher, but Connor told her to leave the cleaning for later so she obediently left the kitchen with him. Dale’s behaviour seemed odd according to his usual meticulousness.

They separated in the hallway. The man walked right down the long corridor, on the way taking his car keys from a crystal bowl standing on a low cabinet against the wall on the left. He slipped them into his right jacket pocket. Dale looked in the mirror, noting with displeasure that an unruly strand of hair was falling across his forehead. He took a comb from the same jacket pocket and tried to tame the strand of hair. He didn't notice the keys, which were now lying on the carpet completely as if they didn't want to be found. Laura stood for a moment looking at his being thorough with a mixture of admiration and horror, then marched off to the bedroom.

"I'm going to the garage to get the car," he announced from the hallway when he decided the strand would not obey him for anything in the world. "Be ready," he added as he finished tying his black leather boots, put on a graphite jacket and then a Beanie cap. "Connor, wait…" Laura moved from the bedroom to the hallway wanting to stop him but the piercing pain slowed her down just enough for the man to close the door behind him. All she heard was a quiet squeal as he validated the code.

She sighed resignedly and trotted down the narrow corridor towards the bedroom, passing the bathroom, and kitchen on her left and the living room on her right. She wanted to look for something to wear, but her attention was momentarily caught by the ajar door to the room at the end of the hall. The distance of a few steps suddenly stretched into something incredibly distant. The forbidden door tempted even more than usual today. Her knowledge of this secret room boiled down to the fact that Connor usually slept there on the sofa although she insisted he would rest better in bed. He never mentioned it, but she had a feeling it was the only place she couldn't walk into. She called it his cave where he hid when he needed solitude. After a short peek backwards at the front door, she slowly moved towards her destination. As she placed her hand on the cool doorknob, she felt her heart beating faster and faster with fear and emotion.

The room was not large, being in the shape of a horizontally arranged L letter. Judging by the furniture, it was an office. To the right of the entrance was a desk made of dark wood, probably beech, with an armchair by it, upholstered in dark grey fabric. Two bookshelves stood against the wall. Laura looked to the left at the sofa and the perfectly stacked bedding on it. Against the opposite wall stood a low, long cupboard. Lying on it were several books about hacking, and next to them stood a crystal vase. Laura picked it up smiling to herself. We had a similar one at home, she thought. She was about to drop it when a white panel on the wall began to lift revealing a large screen, which after a moment turned on showing the login screen.

"Welcome Agent Cooper. Please enter your password."

She stood staring at the blue writing on the screen and the blinking cursor, still holding the damn vase in her hand. For a moment she was tempted to try and guess the password but Connor would surely find out. If he was so protective of the room, she suspected he made sure about the security of all communication devices. One question was vivid in her mind; Who could he talk to? The only person who came to mind was Damien. Laura shook her head, wanting to get rid of that thought. It was most likely that Dale was talking to Pritchard about company matters, and sending important information required the highest possible level of security. Especially now after the attack. Having put the vase back in its place, she looked at the laptop left on the desk but did not dare even touch it. Leaving the room she heard the click of the lock as the panel covered the screen. She had time to return to the bedroom and open the top drawer of the dresser when she heard Connor's voice from the corridor.

"I'm a butterfingers. I lost my car keys. They must have fallen out of my pocket," he announced as he looked around for his loss.

Laura felt her whole body paralysed with nervousness. She had barely avoided making a huge mistake. Through carelessness and excessive curiosity, she could have been caught rummaging through his private space.

"Still not ready?" he muttered, seeing her searching through her clothes. "Sorry! Wounds don't make things any easier," she replied taking out navy blue jeans and a woollen beige jumper. "Idiot of me," he sighed. "I should help you." "No need," she protested. I’ve got everything under control. If I'm careful I can do it painless." She lied, of course. While getting dressed, his help would be most useful. Although Connor had probably seen many incompletely dressed girls in his life, she couldn't get over her embarrassment and the thought didn't help her at all. "I won't insist, but you've known me long enough to know that I'd take care of your comfort and certainly not stare like some horny simpleton. Besides, if memory serves me right I've seen you without a blouse before." "Go now or we'll be late," she urged him. The man laughed, nodded and left. After a quarter of an hour or so, Laura managed to finish the uneven struggle with her clothes and her hair, which refused to obey her will. Connor returned when she tried to tie her shoelaces so, despite her protests, he helped her.

"You'd better put your cap on. It's cold outside," he suggested.

They didn't have time to argue now, so she listened to his advice and took a blue Bobble hat. Soon they found themselves in a street full of passers-by marching back and forth, muffled in winter coats and jackets. "Where did you park?" she asked, looking around and trying to guess which car belonged to Connor. "Here," he replied, pointing ahead. "An Aston Martin DB5? No kidding," she muttered, wrapping her hands together on her chest. "A car like that costs a fortune." "The price was a bargain. I advise you to leave your thoughts for later."

Dale opened the door for her and helped with get in the silver car.

"By the way, from where do you have such a good knowledge of cars?" he asked while fastening his seatbelt. "About this particular one yes. Joe and I have watched all the James Bond films a dozen times each." "Well, yes, that explains everything," he replied, correcting the cab mirror and starting the engine.

The car slowly moved, flashing its right indicator. Connor turned on the radio to somehow kill the silence. He didn't want to forcefully start a conversation, that was never good.

In life, in love, this time I can't afford to lose For one, for all, I'll do what I have to do You can't understand, it's all part of the plan Broken pieces of the night Sing like hollow lullabies You and I, always in disguises

Laura listened, gazing at the changing world beyond the glass, which was slowly being covered in a milky white layer of vapour.

Lover, hunter, friend and enemy You will always be every one of these

She knew these words by heart. They were engraved in her mind in capital letters. Damien, with his scheming, had led her to hate Joe. He had then become her worst enemy, a nightmare and a hunter wanting her to become his trophy. To this day, she still couldn't forgive herself for how she had treated him. She had hoped they would talk, scratch and heal old wounds, that something would end and something would begin. Unfortunately, she couldn't foresee Joe would die. The car stopped at the traffic lights. The indicator ticking quietly and rhythmically expressed the driver's desire to turn left. The time she spent thinking passed so quickly that she didn't notice when Connor parked outside Rupert's house. It was a good thing that when she gave him the address he knew immediately where it was otherwise, knowing her orientation in the area, they would have been wandering around Detroit until the evening. As usual, they hadn't time to press the doorbell and already Demelza had opened the door, inviting them inside with a broad smile.

"You look awful," she said, looking at the woman. "You've gotten terribly thin, but after my dinner and dessert you'll gain strength." "You really don't need to," she protested. "We're not staying for…" "Nonsense!" she interrupted her. "And don't you worry about the vase," she turned to Connor. "What vas…" he wanted to ask, but a bumped object interrupted him mid-sentence. "Exactly with this," Demelza muttered wrinkling her eyebrows. "Unbelievable," she said to herself as she saw Dale deftly catch the vase before it shattered on the floor. "Rupert is waiting in the study," she turned to Laura. "I'll take care of your friend."

Dale felt fear overpower him as if Demelza possessed supernatural abilities. He had the feeling that she was reading him like an open book and none of his secrets were safe anymore. The feeling grew when Laura disappeared behind the study door and he was invited into the living room.

"Make yourself at home," the hostess said kindly. Connor found it really hard to believe she could have been a witch from children's stories. He had an equally hard time deciding to soil the carpet with his dirty shoes. He wanted to take them off, but Demelza firmly protested, thus subjecting him to the torture. The green carpet was decorated with a grid embroidered with gold thread, and its cleanliness was something almost sacred to Connor. However, when he crossed the threshold of the living room, all his fears disappeared. He felt as if he had stepped into another dimension. He walked past the antique oak table straight to the piano standing against the wall.

"Rupert liked to play it but it has been standing forgotten for a long time. It probably needs to be tuned to bring it back to its former glory," you could hear the sadness and longing in Demelza's voice for something that was long gone. "I can give it a try," he offered while looking at the instrument. "I know a thing or two about it."

"You're very welcome. Even if you damaged it nothing bad would happen," she assured him. "Now if you'll excuse me for a moment, I have to take care of dinner. If you need anything I'll be in the kitchen. It's right over there almost in front of this room." "Thank you, that's very kind of you," he said. "Spare yourself the courtesy. You are among friends." the woman waved her hand carelessly, bestowing a motherly smile on him. "And do not, under any circumstances, enter the study. Rupert dislikes it very much." "I'm not going to disturb them unless I'm needed for something," he replied.

Oppressed with remorse, triggered by an analysis of the tone of his statement, he wanted to apologise to Demelza, but the woman had already gone. Dale closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them his gaze wandered to the left towards a bookcase filled with books. He slowly walked over to it and, reaching for one of the books full of disappointment, found that it was written in a language he didn't understand at all.

"I think it's Gaelic," he muttered to himself putting the book back in its place.

Connor went back to the piano and looked at it more closely. It was probably made of hornbeam and had no ornamentation, so he judged it had more sentimental value. He carefully lifted the keyboard cover and extracted a few sounds from the instrument. To his amazement, they were exceptionally pure, perhaps not so pure as to convey the nobility of classical music, but for killing time while waiting for Laura to return, they were enough. Having sat down on a low stool upholstered in cherry leather, which creaked quietly when he moved in search of a comfortable position for his body, he began to recall a melody from memory. His fingers themselves pointed the way, which he followed without hesitation.

Search for your love...

You have always been shining so brightly Your smiling face is just like a tiny star I have been treasuring it (Eternal starlight) On that day I could not come and protect you I just held my tears of regret inside I am still feeling the pain (I won't forget you, sweetheart)

Laura did not know how she should behave. Immediately after closing the study door, she was overwhelmed with doubts that coming here had been a mistake. Rupert sat behind his desk pretending to be busy filling out paperwork, but not even the slightest twitch escaped his attention. He could read everything from the woman's body language. The restless looking around, the nervous intertwining of fingers and the readiness to run away. He didn't want to guess how much must have happened in her life since they last met. He just wondered if she would shake off the burden.

"Don't just stand there, you're my guest," he muttered, putting the pages aside. "We know each other well enough that you should feel comfortable here. You could go to the other part of the study, sit down, or search the bookshelf while waiting for me to finish." "First of all, I should say hello," she replied quietly. "Paying attention to such trifles is not in my nature." The Scot corrected his glasses, stood up and, with a hand gesture, encouraged Laura to come on in.

As they both took their places in the armchairs, Rupert lit a pipe. He didn't ask questions, instead, he let her decide what she wanted to say and when. They could even sit in silence. Besides, phrases like "How are you?" or "Is everything going well?" he regarded as forcing a conversation.

"You must have heard about the attack?" she asked, to which the man merely nodded. "And about Adam too...?" "They were talking about it everywhere. There's a funeral ceremony the day after tomorrow but I don't think I need to mention it."

Laura's green eyes were large and full of tears, looking at Rupert, who seemed immune to her sadness. He realised she didn't know about the funeral, which surprised him immensely given her relationship with the Security Chief.

"Detroit has long been full of lunatics, but the attack on Sarif Industries was too much. In addition, not long after, a woman tried to lay violent hands on herself by jumping from a skyscraper. Apparently, someone saved her, they wrote something about a flying Superman but it sounded too unbelievable."

The woman twitched upon hearing that her actions had been noticed. Surely she wasn't the only would-be suicide, why did they have to take an interest in this one? What if Damien already knew? Her heart began to pound like a herd of galloping horses. Her breath tore like a guitar string tugged too hard, and pain spilled through her body reminding her of unhealed wounds.

"Damien...Damien knows...He knows...He..."

"That's him," growled the bodyguard and kicked the man who was now lying on his back.

The man cringed and shrieked.

"Did he confess?" asked Damien when the young man stopped screaming. "Of course he did."

Blood was pouring from the stranger's nose and a cut eyebrow arch. He also had a black eye and, judging by his face contorted with a grimace of pain and his arm wrapped around his torso, probably one or more broken ribs. Evie opened her eyes wide and covered her mouth with her hand, paralysed with horror.

"Here is our arsonist," Damien announced. "Now he will suffer the consequences of his deed!"  

The kick aimed at his abdomen was so strong that the man cringed in pain, and a wet spot blossomed on his pants.  

"See? He peed himself out of fear. He's about to shit himself next," the bodyguard reacted and kicked the young man in the back. "Damien, tell him to stop!" squealed the girl.

Damien had so far watched dispassionately as his bodyguard bullied his victim. However, he had to maintain at least some semblance of not being so cruel after all. Evie had to trust him for his plan to work without problems. The man nodded and the subordinate reluctantly stopped further beating and kicking. The victim was already barely alive anyway. His face was so swollen that he was almost unidentifiable.

"You're right.” Damien turned his head towards the girl. “You're the one who should punish him," he said, snatching the gun from the bodyguard's holster, pressing it into her hand and unlocking it.

Evie didn't want to tighten her fingers on the cool grip, but Damien forced her to do so. She felt the rough surface under four fingers, and the fifth index finger touched the trigger. The weapon was heavy, it seemed to her that it weighed a ton.

“Hold it with both hands,” ordered with a sharp tone. “Yes like this.” "Damien, please stop, we've already scared him enough!" she screamed after realising he was not joking. "For the fuck’s sake! He burned Lemon-Lime! Because of him, Joe is dead, and you want to take pity on him?!" "I can't kill him! Besides, that's what the police are for!" "You can," he convinced her, assisting in holding the gun putting the barrel to the kneeling man's forehead and squeezing the trigger.

The girl closed her eyes and pressed her lips together. She did not want to see his wide-open eyes begging for mercy. She breathed hurriedly and her whole body trembled. The roar of gunfire spread through the alley, drowned out by sirens and general noise. No one reacted. The head exploded like a watermelon, splattering blood, brain fragments and bones. The body slid inertly to the ground. Damien didn't wait for Evie to say or do anything. The bodyguard handed him a handkerchief soaked in sleeping remedy, with which Kratos covered the girl's mouth. Once her body was numb, he threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and together with the bodyguard disappeared into the depths of the alley where a black off-road car with tinted windows stood parked.

Despite his detailed plan, Damien could not have foreseen that the entire incident was being watched by an unwanted observer.

Detroit. Connor's apartment.

The man continued looking at his socks. The left one was invariably gayer than the right. He had said far too much, but Laura left him no choice. The hope remained alive in him that there would not be too many questions and suspicions, that everything would remain as before, and that they would continue to be friends because, in fact, in this shitty world, Laura had become someone very close to him. So close that it pained him to keep every secret he had from her.

"Thank you for telling me about this. At least you're the only one being honest with me."

Connor bit his lower lip so hard that he felt the sweet-metallic taste of blood in his mouth. Honesty was far from his mind. Lack of choice forced him into it. The only thing he had for her was a lie, followed by another and another. The man looked at Laura and forced as sincere a smile as possible in response.

"But why didn't you tell me about it earlier?"

He expected questions, but he didn't have ready answers to them. He had to come up with something plausible in a split second. The best way was to play on emotions, to show remorse. That always works.

"Because I knew Damien was looking for you, and I have the evidence from that day. If he used you to get it, I wouldn't forgive myself." "Since you have something that can be used against him, you should have used it long ago!" "Don't shout," he said calmly. His gaze moved from the socks to the wall. "Damien is too cunning and has extensive connections. This is not as simple as ordinary cases. You have to act with caution." "You're right, I'm sorry," she replied quietly, crumpling the quilt in her hands. "I had already forgotten how dangerous he is." "Don't think about it now, you need to gain strength. I'm sure Pritchard misses you," he joked.

Laura laughed, wrapping her hands around her belly. She clenched her teeth in pain and closed her eyes. "Unfortunately, I can't laugh yet."

Connor made sure she didn't lack anything. He changed her dressings, made sure she took her medicine as prescribed, cooked and took care of the cat. He helped her once she started getting out of bed. Laura saw this as an attempt to suppress guilt, to soothe her conscience, but she quickly got rid of the thought. Although her physical condition was improving day by day, her psyche resembled a post-war field, strewn with corpses and soaked in blood. Connor, as much as he wanted to, could not help her. He was busy preparing dinner when he heard the sound of a chair being pushed back and a protracted gasp brought on by fatigue.

"You were supposed to be in bed. You're still weakened," he said with displeasure, stirring the chicken in the pan.

The meat sizzled when he added a bit of broth, a cloud of steam raised almost under the grey cabinets hanging on the wall. He shook the pan and added the chopped vegetables.

"I need your help,” Laura stated with a firm tone. “You can see the state I'm in, and it's not the fault of the wounds. I have thought about this for a long time and I think that only talking to Rupert can help me." "I can call him, maybe he will agree to come," he suggested. "No. I have to go to his place, only there I can open up. The atmosphere of his house is...magical if you understand what I mean." "Of course I understand. There are places spreading auras we can't explain. However, that doesn't change the fact the journey is risky. Your wounds still haven't healed, and you have difficulty walking..." "That's why I need to see Rupert," she interrupted him, and the tone of her voice was still firm.

Connor set the pan aside and turned toward the table looking at Laura intently and thoughtfully. Her green eyes looked at him almost pleadingly, they were unnaturally large and sparkling. He knew that if he refused her now, everything they had built so far would collapse like a house of cards. It was a form of unintentional emotional blackmail. Another possibility Connor didn't even allow into his mind.

"Fine, I agree but we'll go there in my car. Only then I will be calmer." "Thank you," she replied.

The man noticed that her face brightened and for a moment he even saw a smile. Maybe this idea isn't quite so bad after all.

Laura returned to the room, lay down on the bed and reached for the phone. She hesitated for a long time before dialling Rupert's number, withdrawing her finger from the green handset showing on the phone screen. Finally, she made up her mind and touched the icon. After a few beeps, she decided that probably no one would answer the phone. The woman sighed with resignation wanting to end the call but heard Demelza's invariably polite voice, which always made her feel better. Unfortunately, Rupert was not at home at the time, but she assured Laura that he would want to meet with her. Laura already wanted to say goodbye and end the conversation, but the woman stopped her at the last moment. For a while she only heard a quiet conversation in which she could not distinguish the words, only Rupert's voice saying with full conviction "But of course I will, even today," she heard clearly and felt the fear completely disappear. She made an appointment for the next day and hardly managed to stop the conversation because Demelza kept saying how happy she was to see her. Laura was also looking forward to tomorrow when she would return to Rupert's secluded and elegant office, where she felt safe.

Connor brought her the dinner he had just finished and handed the woman one of the plates. Surprisingly, he was beginning to get used to the combination of food and bed. All those overwhelming scenarios about the types of stains on the bedding and how they were formed disappeared from his mind as if they never existed. Laura convinced him to sit next to her, rest his back against the pillow and just enjoy the moment.

"Connor?" the woman tried focusing his attention. "Co-nn-or?" she repeated, poking him lightly in the side with her elbow. "What's the matter? Are you feeling bad?" he asked, jerking his whole body restlessly.

By the skin of his teeth, the remains of the chicken would have landed on the bed sheets.

"I'm fine, but you've been in another dimension," she muttered, finishing eating. "What were you thinking about?" "About nothing in particular," he answered evasively and put his plate down on the nightstand. "If you don't want to explain, just say it straight out. I'm not a child."

The man sighed and once again began to observe his socks. The less grey one was starting to wear through.

"I can't remember the last time I felt free," he said. "What do you mean free? You are all the time unless I don't know something," the woman furrowed her brow.

Connor shook his head. "Ever since I agreed to participate in the program and became an aug I never really felt free, much less human."

"Joe also tried hiding who he was. He often wore gloves and rarely walked around in t-shirts. I can't imagine how hard it must have been for you." "Personally, I did not expect such hatred. I was told all the time that I would be special, but the world at the time was not ready to accept enhanced people. When I first showed up at the police station, everyone looked at me like I was a freak. My partner Hank Anderson expressed his dislike for me by making biting comments or refusing to use my help. It took us a long time to establish a friendlier relationship. At least his dog, Sumo liked me right away." Connor's laugh was forced. "Gavin Reed, on the other hand, never accepted me. He wanted me to brew him coffee because clanks are only good for that. He always questioned my observations and conclusions even if I was right. He thought the machine could not be reliable. He took all the credit away from me and attributed it to himself." "And what about your superiors?!" Laura raised her voice and jerked her body nervously. She immediately hissed in pain. "Be careful," the man muttered. "Show the dressings," he ordered, wanting to lift up her shirt. "I'm fine, really," she tried to reassure him but to no avail. "Well, okay," she said, letting the air out loudly through her nose.

Connor inspected the stitches carefully, letting his enhanced synthetic eyes reach deeper under the skin. Although his medical knowledge was rather rudimentary, in this particular case he was given precise guidelines on what to look out for and what should concern him.

"Fortunately, everything is fine," he said. "After all, I said I'm fine. So what do your superiors say about it?" she insisted. "I see you won't give up," he sighed. "The truth is hardly anyone wanted to cooperate with the augs. The police got a lot of funding in exchange for taking me in, but the fact that I'm not human was carefully hidden from the public. Everything I did or said went through Gavin's mouth. Hank, though he had no sympathy for me, at least had the remnants of dignity not to participate in this circus." "But he also didn't stand up for you," Laura interjected. "I can't blame him for that. Hank knew that corruption in the police has deep roots and long thorns so it's better to pretend you don't care or that you're too stupid and don't focus attention on yourself." "All in all, you're right. Hank alone wouldn't change anything and would only make things worse. It's better to wait and gather evidence."

Connor nodded slowly. "Unfortunately, I didn't have time to do that. I was careless, so they decided to get rid of me. They fired me within a week on the pretext of reducing vacancies, so I started acting on my own. Hank helped me as much as possible without drawing attention. Unfortunately, soon all the leads were gone cold except one, leading to you."

"And now you're probably cursing the day you met me because I'm a walking factory of problems." "You know I actually like it?" he muttered quietly, then yawned. "I'll keep that in mind."

Dale fell asleep, not even knowing when it happened. Just like that, in his clothes, next to Laura. According to his rules, this was something reprehensible. But rules are there to be changed, bent or even broken.

We've made a choice, go fight against your fate! Pain will come with the blade Pain will wake up the despondent crowd In this dormant world somehow Unsheathe a sword not to kill Unsheathe a sword to rend those clouds above the ground Wake up, it's time to gather now

"Don't you want to avenge Adam and Joe? Are you going to run away again? Are you just going to give up like that?" he tried appealing to her ambition and resolve.

"They don’t care now and so, am I. I'm tired. go home Connor I won't change my mind anyway," she replied. "You think you're the only one who suffers?!" Connor changed his tone of voice to a rougher and firmer one. "The world doesn't spin around you, you know." "Because of me, Kratos attacked the company!"

Connor laughed. "And you believe that?! Do you think he would throw himself to all that hell only for you to fall into his hands? You're ridiculous."

"Then why did all the show happen?" "He wanted to scare you, that's all. Since you can't be his at least he will stalk you..." "As long as I don't jump..." she finished the sentence for him. "Come to me, only slowly. We'll go home, you're very weak and freezing."

The woman took another step forward but immediately took a step back.

"No, Connor. For me, there is no more hope. There is no forgiveness. Let me go. Please." "No!" yelled the man.

She had never heard him be so resolute, never seen him so desperate with his fists clenching nervously again and again and his muscles ready to react.

"I killed a man! I put the barrel of the gun to his forehead and fired! I saw his head explode, and blood coat my body. Now, what do you say?!"

Connor looked at his shoes dirty from the mud and the puddle he was standing in. He closed his eyes. He so badly didn't want her to play this exact card because now he has to show his. Her life is more important than secrets. He has to protect her at all costs.

"You didn't kill him," he replied shortly.

Laura furrowed her eyebrows and looked at him more closely, not understanding what he meant.

"I was in Berlin at the time. I was standing across the street. Lemon-Lime was on fire, the flames were raging and even all the firefighting units in the area couldn't stop it. Sparks were shooting into the air, and you were standing with Damien. A man was kneeling in front of you, begging for mercy. You then said, "Damien, come on, we've already scared him off." Immediately after that..." "I pulled the trigger," she finished for him.

She was completely calm, not at all thinking about who Connor really is or how he knows the events of that evening. She should flood him with questions and doubts. Torpedo him so hard to leave him no way to avoid answers. Meanwhile, she blindly trusted him and took a step toward the man again. She wanted to take another but at the same moment, the police appeared on the roof. It seemed strange to Connor that for such an action they arrived in a group as if they were about to catch some dangerous criminal. They always send a negotiator and a psychologist. They were so loud that they scared Laura, who again increased the distance between her and Connor. She felt the solid ground disappear under her feet. She began falling into a bottomless, dark abyss disturbed by the flashes of police car lights and the pale light of neon signs. Connor turned his head away from the edge of the roof only for a moment, and when he looked again Laura was gone. All he heard was her scream. His reaction was immediate. He sprinted ahead. It was a perfectly coordinated movement, trained by years of practice, almost robotic. There was nothing random about it. Behind his back, he could hear the shouts of police officers dressed in winter polyamide jackets. Confused, they didn't know whether to shoot or wait to see what would happen. RK800 bounced off the concrete edge stretching out in a leap like a cat. He knew he would reveal his next cards too soon, but that wasn't the most important thing now. He arranged his arms along his torso to reduce air resistance and plunged further and further into the abyss. He fell like a meteorite, cutting like a katana blade through the air wheezing in his ears with an unbearable cacophony.

The hitherto narrow line of the street became wider and wider, and more and more details appeared on it. He could see Laura's petite silhouette, inertly falling into the darkness. Connor clenched his teeth, his heart galloping unnaturally fast in his chest. His mind was filled with fear that he would not make it, that he was too slow. The rush of air grew stronger when he decided to use his energy reserves. With this, he managed to catch up with Laura. He stretched out his arms catching her and wrapping her in the strong embrace of his arms. He was very lucky, but most of it was due to his skill. In flight, he turned his back toward the ground to soften his eventual fall if he ran out of energy. "Shield," he issued a command in his mind. "Glide," immediately followed by another. They visibly slowed down, flying now over the heads of onlookers. Some of them were horrified, others were in disbelief. Some drunk looked at the bottle held in his hand. A mother held in her arms an overjoyed child who had just seen a superhero. Connor wanted at all costs to be far enough away from the gathering. He hoped the police wouldn't be looking for them. They landed in one of the side alleys on an old mattress lying among a pile of garbage bags. The man tried to revive the unconscious woman with a few pats on the cheeks but in vain.

"Fuck," he growled, realizing that her blood was everywhere.

RK800 reached into his pants pocket. Fortunately, the phone was working so he sent a message from it.

"Code 7481. Status RED."

Location - Unknown. Time - Unknown.

"Fuck!" thundered the voice. "How could you screw up this task?! You were supposed to protect her, and she’s dying again!" "I couldn't predict..." replied Connor. "You're supposed to be one step ahead! I should gut you for that!" "It won't happen again," said Connor. "In addition, I have to clean up the whole mess after you. The local police are turning Detroit upside down. They ask many questions." "I will bear all the consequences."

The interlocutor wanted to respond but was interrupted before he could open his mouth.

"Everything is ready, we can begin," announced another voice through the loudspeaker.

The two walked down a narrow corridor, bathed in semi-darkness, to a small room towering over the operating room.

"It's good the signal arrived in time. There's a big chance she'll survive," informed the stranger, already somewhat more calmly. "Really, I'm not screwing up anymore." "I know. I'm sorry."

Connor had probably already anticipated every scenario, but not this one. In moments when someone's life was at stake, especially Laura's, the boss was unpredictable. He had also heard many opinions that he could be cruel, but it was hard to believe that when looking at the person standing next to him.

"They had to warm her up first, gradually, so she wouldn't go into shock. Now they're stitching her up again, but it's unclear what will happen next." "Maybe we should let her go?" asked Connor. "Out of the question!" the tone of voice changed again to stern and ruthless. "She has to live."

She was blinded by the white light seeping in under her eyelids. The image swam in her eyes, blurred and returned regaining its shape. Square panels on the ceiling, beige in places as if scratched with white. A wall with a panel hanging on it illuminating X-rays. Several cabinets, and a movable table at the foot of the bed. Soft sheets smelling of disinfectant, a piece of plastic on a finger, tubes going into the nose to allow breathing, a peripheral IV catheter in the right hand with a drip bag on a nearby hanger. This was not Connor's home but a hospital room. How did she get here? The woman turned her head to the right. On the nightstand stood a pitcher of water and a glass, and right next to it a vase with a white and pink magnolia flower. Someone came in and shone a flashlight into her eyes as if the harsh light coming from the ceiling was not enough. He checked the drip bag, then the card hanging on the bed rail, and left. Shortly after another person came in with a quite familiar scent of bergamot, ginger and sage. Laura blinked her eyes wanting the image to come into focus. The grey jacket, it had to be Connor's.

"You're finally awake. I was starting to panic," he said, carefully sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Where am I?" she asked, trying to raise herself to a sitting position. "Lie still. You're in the hospital." "But they will ask questions, after all, the police..." "Everything is fine. When you were unconscious, I took care of all the matters and gave an explanation. As soon as you're released, we'll get back to my place." "How did you accomplish this? After all, I fell off the roof." "You will get answers but after returning. Agreed?" "Agreed," she replied reluctantly.

The next day Connor performed another miracle because Laura was allowed to go home. She was still very weak so other than getting up from bed and getting dressed she doesn't remember anything else. On the one hand, she was not at all worried about this, but on the other hand, it was very strange. The feeling that Connor was hiding more from her than the average person was strong and vivid. Maybe she really shouldn't trust him? When they returned home, he did not bring up the subject of her suicide attempt at all, which awakened even more questions in her mind. Instead, he brought a bowl of hot broth and made sure she ate it.

"Will you finally explain to me what happened on the roof?" her words sounded more like a command than a question or a request.

The man sighed, intertwining the fingers of both hands together, and looked down at his feet. He noticed one of the grey socks was a tad less grey than the other.

"Let's start with the fact that I'm neither a programmer nor a hacker."

Laura furrowed her brow but decided not to interrupt him. Nervous knuckles cracking was apparently a sign that what he wanted to tell her was something difficult for him.

"I am an aug who was taken to work for the police as a prototype special unit. I don't know the details of this project except that I joined voluntarily. Before I left, I had investigated the Damien case."

Berlin 2017.

"Evie hurry up! We have a lot of work to do," Toby shouted from behind the bar. "I'm coming! The customers were terribly inquisitive," the girl excused herself. "Take it to eight. Just come right back with no delay."

Evie looked toward the indicated table. Seated at it was a man with short-cropped dark chocolate-coloured hair with a strand falling unruly on his forehead, which he kept correcting, and it still returned to its original place. He was wearing a black turtleneck sweater and was busy reading the newspaper. The girl approached the table setting a cup of black coffee and a plate with a piece of cherry pie on it.

"I'm sorry you had to wait. The terrible crowd today," she said smiling kindly. "That's okay," the man replied, closing the newspaper and folding it perfectly evenly in half. "For your delicious coffee and pie, it's worth the wait."

His brown gaze fixed on Evie's face. The man reciprocated the smile then raised his cup and inhaled the aroma of the coffee before taking a sip.

"Excellent," he murmured contentedly, setting the cup down on the saucer. He rolled up the sleeves of his sweater to elbow height and wanted to reach for the newspaper, but stopped in mid-motion. "If you would like anything else, I am at your disposal," he said. "Thank you for now, but it's possible I'll have two pieces of pie today," he announced, smiling broadly.

Evie returned to the bar and immediately got another order, so she had no time to think about the strange customer. He, in turn, reminded about himself a quarter of an hour later when he approached the bar. The girl was replacing Toby, who had gone to restock.

"I'll have another piece of cherry pie and green tea, please," he said in a consistently pleasant tone. "Of course, I'm already serving. You could have waited at the table and called me." "A walk hasn't hurt anyone yet," he replied. "Besides, I'm Dale, Dale Cooper," he added extending his hand toward her. “I’m Evie. Just Evie.”

The girl shook it, although his friendly behaviour seemed rather strange to her. Especially after Joe had warned her at least a few times to be careful when dealing with strangers. The man took his order and returned to his table, but left a distinct mark in the girl's mind.

Half an hour later, a monstrous bang of an explosion shook the entire club. The fire spread in the blink of an eye consuming room after room. Smaller explosions shot off fireworks of sparks from time to time. A crowd of terrified guests fell out into the street, and their screams could be heard in the distance. Lamps and square plates fell from the ceiling, raising clouds of dust into the air. Cables sizzling with electricity hung like snakes, and water gushed from broken pipes. Shattered glass and discarded purses, jackets or hats lay on the floor. Soon a thickening cloud of smoke made it hard to see anything. Evie, paralysed with fear, stood in the middle of the main hall, bumped by those fleeing. She didn't know where Joe, Toby or Alex was; she searched for them with her eyes but in vain. Smoke entered her lungs more and more intensely, irritating her eyes and leading to tears. Her gaze moved from point to point more and more nervously. She moved abruptly as if pushed by a premonition, toward the emergency stairs when she suddenly felt a sudden jerk and a robotic hand clenching tightly on her forearm. The first person she thought of was Joe, but her joy was quickly extinguished when she turned her head.

"Get out of here or you'll burn alive," Damien said in a firm tone.

The smoke didn't impress him in the least. His implants filtered the air he breathed, and the model of synthetic eyes he had could not produce tears.

"I have to find Joe!" shrieked the girl, pulling out. "We're leaving."

The grip was so firm that it caused her pain. The man pulled Evie along and soon they were outside. Only now did she hear the unbearable howling of the sirens of the fire department units, ambulances and police. Suddenly the strangest of thoughts nestled in her mind; Did Dale manage to escape?

Toby examined Navras, checked how his implants were working and watched the monitoring machine's charts carefully.

"The implants are working better than I thought," he said with satisfaction. "Now the hands. Grab this," he asked, handing him a paper cup.

Joe crushed it almost immediately, which definitely made him feel worse. It's a miracle he didn't crush Laura's hand.

"This is something we need to work on," Toby said in a completely calm and upbeat tone. "Just rest. If anything happens, let me know, now I have to take care of the club."

When they were left alone, Laura sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed Joe's hand. He withdrew his hand so she grabbed it again. The man gasped with displeasure, and the girl laughed.

"It's not funny at all," he muttered.

"Yes, it is. After what you've been through, you're in excellent shape anyway. I'm sure that in a few days, you'll be able to move your hands like you used to. You'll probably even start walking."

Her optimism was something he really needed right now, so he responded with a smile.

"I know you want to be nice. Thank you," he replied, then carefully brought her hand close to his lips and kissed it.

Laura's words were like a prophet's prophecy because Navras's condition was indeed improving very quickly. He insisted on going back to his room, but Toby was not at first convinced that this decision was right. Eventually, he agreed, but Joe had to endure all the necessary and less necessary tests.

After a few days, he was already able to take a few steps without assistance and hold a glass in his hand without breaking it. When he tried to drink from it, his hands trembled, but it was still the holes in his stomach and Laura's over-protectiveness that bothered him the most. However, upon further reflection, the latter was very pleasant. The first time he decided to get out of bed without help he will remember for a very long time. At that time he knocked down a pitcher standing on the nightstand, ripped the peripheral IV catheter from his neck and burst his stitches. Laura wanted to help him but he yelled at her, and a little later Toby at him when he stitched his wounds back together. The girl took her things and went back to her room. Joe was then left alone and it was damn annoying that he couldn't do anything about it. He had to try very hard to get Toby to help him.

The door slid open with a quiet hiss and after a moment he saw Laura. The girl wanted to take a step forward but hesitated. Joe noticed the subtle movement and reflexively jerked his body, wanting to stop her. Laura mastered her emotions and entered the room more out of fear that Joe's wounds would reopen than out of a desire to be here. The girl betrayed nothing in her demeanour; she was completely indifferent, even cold.

"Sit down, please," he said as gently as he could."

Laura knew he was trying to be nice by force, but she decided to listen to him.

"I know I screwed up... again," he said. "You should have thought before you destroyed everything."

The coldness of her voice hurt even worse than the holes in his stomach, of that he was sure. When he needed the right words, none were present in his mind.

"I'm just not used to having someone take care of me. I'm not used to getting help or having someone clean the bathroom for me because I'm so infirm that..." "You think I'm used to seeing someone close to me in this condition?" she interrupted him. "You think it's easy for me?" "I make it difficult for you myself, I know. But I feel extremely uncomfortable that's why I react with anger." "Be glad you are alive, it could have been worse. Be glad you have someone who cares at all. I didn't have that luxury for a while and believe it or not but I missed moments which you consider awkward. So be glad that now someone will hand you a glass of water because there may come a moment when even that will be gone and you will damn well regret it."

Joe didn't know what to answer, looked away, then closed his eyes and twitched nervously.

"You're right and I want to change it but I need time. It won't be easy, but don't take it easy on me. Being with someone isn't just about kisses and affectionate words. I've simply gone feral like a cat that suddenly ended up on the street."

Laura smiled and lay down on the bed next to him. Joe hugged her and kissed her forehead.

For the next week, Joe rarely saw Laura and began to worry that things were starting to break down between them again. She would come over for a while, mostly bringing him food and asking the usual "How are you feeling?" or "Do you need anything?" questions. Many times he wanted to go looking for her but had not yet regained full power in his legs. He could still only take a few steps, and getting to the bathroom was quite difficult. His patience was rewarded the next day. The girl entered the room in an exceptionally good mood. It had been a long time since he had seen her smiling so much.

"What's going on that you're in such a good mood?" he asked when she sat down on the edge of the bed. "I have something for you," she said mysteriously, taking out a laptop from her bag. "Did you find an interesting movie and want to watch it with me?" he tried to guess. "That's a pretty good idea, but no," she shook her head negatively and turned on the computer.

The girl took a moment to find and open the file, then turned the computer with the screen toward Joe. The man furrowed his brow and began to read.

"Everything is going according to plan. Violet will be very surprised, but it doesn't matter anymore because these are his last hours of life. I'm waiting for further orders. H."

Joe rubbed his chin in thoughtfulness, which was interrupted for a split second by noticing his beard had been badly neglected for the time he had been bedridden. The mysterious "H" had nestled in his mind for good. He was sure it was him he was talking to via Infolink. He should have at least tried to track him down then, but he was too focused on unravelling the mystery and almost ended up dead because of it.

"Alex did a great job deciphering that file," Navras acknowledged appreciatively. "Yes...That's right," Laura replied quietly, turning off the computer and tucking it into her bag.

It suddenly came to Joe what a huge mistake he had made. Laura had not visited him because she had spent all that time deciphering the message.

"Oh boy..." he muttered under his breath, seeing her despondency mixed with embarrassment. "It's not his job, it's yours." "Let’s say ours. I took only a small part in it," she clarified. "Alex corrected my mistakes and broke most of the protection." "Speak of the devil," Joe interrupted her as the door slid open. "I see you've already read the message," he said, barely entering the room. "Laura did an excellent job," he said. "She said it was your joint work." "Nonsense!" snorted Alex. "I gave her some tips and corrected some mistakes. Laura locked herself in her room, opening it only to eat something." "Alex, stop," muttered the girl, covering her face with her hand. "When it's true. You sat up all night to break security. Several times you fell asleep in the kitchen reading books. I personally carried you to bed."

Joe laughed listening to their bickering.

"She has great talent and learns very quickly, but she lacks patience," the bartender stated.

Laura wanted to answer him but only opened her mouth.

"Toby needs me to help at the bar. I have to go," the man said apologetically. "Infolink is a blight," he muttered as he left. "I'm proud of you," Joe admitted when they were alone and kissed Laura on the lips long and tenderly.

When I hold you close to me I could always see a house by the ocean Last night I could hear the waves As I heard you say, "All that I want is to be yours"

Falling in love Falling in love Deeper than I've felt it before with you, baby I feel I'm falling in love with all my heart

Back when you were far away We would go on dates to watch the same movie And you were imagining sitting next to me Holding my hand for the whole thing

Detroit, 2027. Connor's apartment.

Connor listened to her story to the end. He was beginning to understand how deep the feeling was between Joe and Laura, and how hard it was for her to accept he was dead. All the more reason he had to protect her from the truth that Adam had also died. He wanted to say something, but the phone rang so he looked apologetically and left to answer it. Laura, wanting to kill boredom, turned on the TV.

"Emergency services have completed the search for survivors after the attack on Sarif Industries headquarters. Unfortunately, no one survived. I remind you that the unfortunate day saw the deaths of Security Chief Adam Jensen and Chief Scientist Doctor Megan Reed. This is Eliza Cassan, reporting to you live, from Picus."

Laura froze as she held the TV remote in her hand. She rewatched the news several times to see if she had misheard. Connor had lied to her, in a despicable way, telling her that she needn't worry. Meanwhile, the truth could still remain hidden for a long time.

Instead of waiting and asking, the woman took advantage of the moment when he was talking on the phone in the kitchen to get dressed and run away. She still felt immense pain from her wounds but managed to leave before he returned.

Connor ended the call and returned to the bedroom. There he found only an empty bed. Under other circumstances, he would have immediately corrected the crumpled pillows and carelessly thrown quilt, but Laura's absence aroused his anxiety, which at first he tried to explain somehow. He went to check if she was in the bathroom. She might have fainted, after all.

"Laura, are you there?" he asked, standing at the door.

Silence answered him, so he repeated the inquiry, and then knocked. Opening the door and going inside was a last resort, but he had to be sure.

"I'm entering," he announced before pressing the handle.

The bathroom was empty. All the things were in their places, even the hacker's cosmetics. The man was beginning to panic. After all, he had a task to complete otherwise the boss wouldn't forgive him. Otherwise, he would be dead. Code 1408 - Protect at all costs. He hastily checked the rest of the apartment until finally his attention was caught by the TV in the bedroom. With a quick and skilled movement, he set the program to where Laura was watching it.

"Unfortunately, no one survived. I remind you that the unfortunate day saw the deaths of Security Chief Adam Jensen and Chief Scientist Doctor Megan Reed. This is Eliza Cassan, reporting to you live, from Picus."

Connor threw the remote control, which hit the glass table without shattering it, and then fell to the ground. If he could have, he wouldn't have put on his shoes or jacket. He ran out of the house into the street. Panic was pulsing under his skin, invading his mind. He ran exceptionally fast for a human being, ahead, toward Laura's house. He tripped over people huddled in the cold, trying to defend themselves from the thick snow. Connor did not feel the cold, he felt absolutely nothing. There was only the order, the duty he has to fulfil.

Laura entered the apartment, her whole body ached but in a moment she would feel nothing. She took out of the closet a dress and shoes. The same ones she got from Joe. She changed her clothes and carefully tied her hair up in a loose bun. Nothing, there was nothing left. She cursed quietly when her hand twitched while painting her lips. Just before leaving, she put on her orchid necklace.

The icy air pierced her thoroughly. People looked at her indifferently or in disbelief. Some moved away as if from a mad woman. The hacker walked upright looking ahead and ignoring the quiet comments. It made it very difficult for her, but she wanted to be remembered. Bright blue lady among the darkness. After a few steps, she looked up but not at the sky. She searched with her eyes for something else. Finally, she stopped her gaze on one of the skyscrapers, to the top of which a string of fire ladders led. Adam is dead and so is Joe. She has no parents or friends. To Connor, she is just a burden. Laura turned into a narrow alley, where she was immediately struck by the memory of the attack. Everything was happening because of her. Jensen's leg, the attack on Sarif Industries. She began a strenuous climb that seemed to go on forever. Several times her foot slipped off the metal step of the ladder. Her wounds hurt, with a monstrous, piercing pain. She felt the stitches bursting and her dress getting wet with blood. She was already halfway up when the image in front of her eyes began to blur.

Connor entered Laura's apartment. It wasn't locked, so she must have been there. He saw clothes lying on the floor and an open closet. Wasting no time, he went out into the street. The man thought she go to Crann Tara to meet Rupert. Unfortunately, he didn't have a phone number for the psychologist, so he set off in the direction of the pub. On the way, he passed people gathering under one of the skyscrapers and completely reflexively looked up. There was someone standing on the edge of the roof, but the building was too tall for him to clearly tell if it was someone familiar.

"She's going to jump! Someone call for help!" a woman shouted. "Why do you care about some crazy girl?" an older man answered her. "Maybe she has some problems, and there was no one to help her?" interjected another man, about forty years old.

The only thing that puzzled Connor was the unequivocal statement that there was a woman on the roof. He could barely judge it himself, but perhaps someone had seen this person before. His next move was an impulse, a reflex not preceded by thinking. He approached the woman, who was screaming to call for help, and pulling his phone out of his pants pocket, he found a photo of Laura that he had once taken.

"Excuse me, did you see who climbed onto the roof?" he asked kindly. "Yes. It was a woman, she was wearing a dress I think it was blue." "Is that her?" he asked another question, showing a photo. "I think so," she replied, not very sure of her answer. "That's her! That's the crazy woman," the older man confirmed.

Connor stood as if paralyzed for a moment. He didn't think she could do such a thing, and the very thought that she was about to jump filled him with great fear. He moved toward the building, pushing through the thickening crowd. He heard voices of discontent, someone even fell down but that was the least important now. He ran into an alley spot-lit by a street lamp. He bumped his hip against a garbage pail, hissed in pain and rushed up the fire stairs. Metal rumbled under his boots. The rough railing cut his hand, but he kept walking. "At all costs," he repeated in his mind. A few seconds later he ran up to the roof and was not even sweaty or out of breath.

"Laura! Don’t move!" he shouted from the other end of the roof to the woman in the blue dress.

A flock of pigeons soared into the air fluttering their wings. The falling snow swirled and hit Connor's cheek biting his skin with cold. His heart was beating like crazy. The woman standing on the edge wobbled, leaning toward the street, looming somewhere down, where a crowd of casual onlookers watched the sensation in silent anticipation.

Standing outside the door of Joe's room, she hesitated for a long time to knock. When she gathered enough courage she was answered by silence. It seemed that he wasn't in the room or didn't want to see her. Her innate pessimism told her to choose the worse possibility, but she still wanted to check all the places where Joe could be. She looked everywhere, even in the VIP rooms, but he disappeared without a trace, same as Toby. Resigned, she sat at the bar waiting for Alexios to return. Lemon-Lime didn't have many visitors today, but on some Fridays, the place used to be almost empty so no one was surprised. Moments later, four people entered the club, two girls and two guys, followed shortly after by two more. Alex almost materialized behind the bar as if knowing when someone would come in. He smiled kindly and took the order.

"How did you know the customers were coming?" Laura asked, wrinkling her brow. "A reservation for the evening," he replied, getting down to preparing the drinks. "Where are Toby and Joe?" she asked another question.

Alex bit his lip clearly hesitating on what to say. "Toby left early and Joe went for a walk," he replied hoping the girl would accept such an answer and not pursue the subject further.

"I'll take it," she offered to help when he finished mixing the drinks. "Go rest I'll take care of it," he said. "I won't be able to concentrate on anything anyway. Which room?" „VIP 1,” the bartender replied.

The girl took the tray before Alex could stop her. Joe will kill him if he finds out he let her go there.

Laura entered the VIP room where four people were sitting. They were all smoking marijuana and having a very good time. Her attention was caught by a tall, well-built man. The sides of his head were shaved, and the black hair on top was pinned back in a short ponytail. His penetrating grey gaze met her gaze. She would have almost dropped the tray had the stranger not stood up and helped her. He was wearing a dark red shirt with two buttons undone at the neck, black jeans and sports shoes.

"Let me help," he said, smiling kindly.

Laura handed out drinks and asked if she could serve anything else, to which everyone gave a negative answer so she nodded and headed for the door.

"Damien, when will you take us to the yacht?" one of the girls asked. "Maybe next weekend?" suggested the grey-eyed man.

Damien, she repeated in her mind and left. She didn't hear everyone laughing at her "Can I serve you something?" giving the words a sexual context. Laura returned to the bar where she picked up another order. This time for a pair of lovers occupying the second VIP room. She wanted to serve some more new guests, but Alex's firm insistence forced her to go back to the room. Accentuating dissatisfaction with a loud sigh, Laura headed back to her place. She lay down on her bed and returned to pondering and staring at the ceiling. Only a noise coming from the hallway managed to tear her away from this passionate pastime. With great reluctance, she looked outside and could have sworn she saw Joe lying on a stretcher. Toby pulled her by the hand, saying something to her, but she couldn't focus. The words merged into one long cluster of sounds. She followed him completely unaware of what was happening.

They found themselves in a room she already knew. Toby opened the door in front, the same one she had tried to force through some time ago. Behind them was a large operating room filled with medical equipment. Alex and Toby moved Navras onto the operating table, cut his clothes then went to prepare themselves. Laura was left alone, overwhelmed by panic, from which she was quickly shaken.

"What are you still waiting for?!" shouted Toby. "We need your help."

The girl found herself in some kind of nightmare dream. She could smell a disinfectant and gran soap. They made her scrub her hands thoroughly, then dressed her in a green doctor's uniform, cap, gloves and mask. She had many questions, but no one wanted to answer them. Alex took his place at the monitors checking heart rhythm and breathing. Toby, meanwhile, took over the role of a surgeon. Until now, Laura had thought that the only person who knew anything about medicine was Joe, but apparently, she was wrong. Navras was laying on the operating table, looking as if he had long been dead. His skin was full of bruises, and he had three holes in his abdomen on the left side that looked like someone had stuck a drill into him. Next to her on the table were all the necessary tools so she could guess why she was there. Feeling that everything she had eaten retreated from her stomach into her throat was overwhelming.

"Get a grip, girl!" seeing her in that state, Toby rebuked her sternly. "Welcome to real life."

He blamed her for what happened to Navras. Everyone blamed her. That's how she perceived his shouting. No one is at the bar serving the customers, she thought. There's no telling if Joe will survive, and she's thinking about such silly things.

"You're going to hand me the tools," he ordered. "Take the gauze, just not with your hand. Use the forceps. Soak it in this liquid. Good. Now gently wipe the wound."

Her hand trembled more and more, but she had to be strong for Joe. She obeyed the command, then tossed the dirty gauze into the waste container and put the forceps away. Toby looked carefully at the wound through glasses similar to Joe's. The girl surmised they were not merely decorative, but also acted as a scanner.

"Fortunately, the internal organs are intact, but he lost a lot of blood. His implants are in much worse condition."

He already wanted to give another command preceding the suturing of the wound but the monitoring apparatus began to beep loudly.

"Toby, that hole in his abdomen is the least of the problems. His heart may be unable to take it." "We need to restore his implants or at least some of them. I told him to let it go, but he persisted. If he had a ripper or at least a hacker with him this wouldn't have happened."

Laura felt her legs begin to bend under her. She didn't take her hacking lessons seriously because she found them boring. She had been putting off the tasks Navras was coming up with for later. Now he was dying. Because of her carelessness and ignorance.

"Laura take two artery forceps. Yes, those two on the right. Now look here, just don't puke! Focus, girl! This is important. One goes here. Okay, and the other one about here," he pointed. "Make sure they don't come loose. If something happens, tell me."

The girl nodded. Alex opened the triangular panel on Joe's temple and plugged the cable into the small socket. Then they both walked over to a large screen that showed a silhouette with the implants marked on it, a three-dimensional model of the brain and lots of information regarding the status of the implants. Not much could be seen from where the girl was standing, but it wasn't hard to guess the situation looked very bad.

"Try another command," suggested Toby. "It doesn't work, I tried everything," announced Alex in a helpless tone. "Bypass the security features." "None of that worked. Every time, his defence system cuts off my access." "It's not his defence system. It's a worm," Laura pointed out coyly.

They both looked at the girl surprised by her observation.

"Toby, she's right. How could we have overlooked it?" "Hurry up or the worm will lead to irreversible rejection of augs," said Toby. "It worked. I cut it off the main driver, isolated it and threw it away." "Great. Now stabilize the control implant," the surgeon ordered. "No access. Withdraws my changes. It's been a long time since anything messed with the software like this." "Force a reset to factory settings and re-set up the parameters. Otherwise, he will die in a moment," Laura said quietly, trying not to cry.

Alex looked at Toby. "Try it. We have no other choice anyway."

"We have a backup system. We can use it," Alex said. "Great. Using it is always better than nothing. Delete the old one."

Laura wanted to protest, but Toby was angry with her anyway so she shouldn't interfere too much. Alex got up to find the right disk. He came close enough to her that she could convey her request to him.

"Make a copy of the old system if possible. Maybe there is something there that will be helpful." "Not likely, but I'll try," Alex replied to her. He made it in time before Toby became interested in their conversation. Toby’s behaviour was surprising. He had never been so rude. "It worked," Alex informed after a moment when he returned to put the backup disk back. The man also managed to give Laura a memory stick with data stored on it.

A few minutes later, the red zones turned yellow and then green on the brain model.

"The control implant has resumed its work. More implants are starting up, but it will take some time before they return to their former level," Alex reported. "What does that mean?" asked Laura.

Toby returned to the table to suture Joe's wound. He was also given a unit of blood. The girl released the forceps when he connected the arteries, feeling her hands go numb from nervous clenching.

"This means Joe will have to learn many things from a certain level or from scratch. It depends on how advanced the backup is and whether Joe will be stubborn enough in wanting to get back into shape. By the way, you didn't have to hold the tools. They clamped on the arteries themselves."

When they finished, they moved Navras to an adjacent room, which was the recovery room. It contained a hospital bed, several cabinets and monitoring equipment. Meanwhile, Laura began cleaning up. Now the sight of blood was even more horrible than before. Alex wanted to help her, but she wouldn't let him so Toby, through the infolink, asked him to leave.

"Joe hates this kind of behaviour," he said in a cool tone. "You mean what kind of behaviour?" she muttered, dropping the scalpels and forceps into the disinfectant liquid one by one. "Making yourself the victim and the only one to blame." "You've done it yourselves already." "What the hell are you talking about?!" he asked, wrinkling his brow. "Those screams and harsh words," she said and with a nervous movement threw all the tools into the sterilizing machine.

Toby sighed. "Only discipline helps at times like this. Joe was dying, everyone had to be focused on what they were doing and not on regrets and guilt. Don't take it personally because none of us could have predicted what might happen or stopped Joe from making a mistake. Believe me, I tried to persuade him that he should rethink his intentions."

"He persisted because of me." "Nonsense," he snorted. "He's a selfish idiot sometimes. Like all of us, anyway."

Toby combed his fingers through his reddish-brown hair in a motion beginning at his high forehead and ending at the back of his head. It was neither long nor very short. When an unruly strand fell on his cheek, it reached roughly to the end of his ear. He looked at Laura with penetrating blue eyes that she sometimes dreaded.

"Come, let's rest a bit. We'll eat something good," he encouraged.

"I'll stay with Joe." "He won't wake up very soon anyway. We'll know when that happens." "I'll wait," she insisted.

The man was aware he would not win against her stubbornness because it was as strong as Navras'.

"Let’s have an agreement: First you will rest and eat something, and then you can be with him as long as you want. Deal?" "Deal," she muttered, finishing cleaning up.

When they arrived in the kitchen Alexios was just finishing reheating the stew. His shoulder-length brown dreadlocks twitched rhythmically as he bustled around the kitchen. The man placed the food on plates, and when he turned around Laura burst into laughter. Alex was wearing an apron with a picture of a muscular male torso.

"Do you aspire to be a hero?" she asked, taking the plate full of steaming stew. "Why not? Greece is the land of heroes!" he said, accenting the words with swipes of his spoon. "Delicious!” exclaimed Laura. "Happy to hear that," replied Alex and took one more slice of bread.

She thought she knew them, but in fact, she was just getting to know both of Joe's friends. When she finished eating, she left the kitchen leaving them alone.

Half an hour later Toby became interested in a bang coming from the hallway so he looked outside. Laura was massaging her leg, with books, a makeup bag and a blanket lying scattered around her.

"Are you going to Joe?" he asked, examining her leg. "Yes, I wanted to..." "Don't explain, after all, we had a deal. Fortunately, the leg is not broken or sprained. How did you do it?" "I got tangled in the blanket and fell," she explained. "I understand," he said, nodding.

Toby helped her up, took her blanket and books and escorted her to the recovery room. On the way, they stopped for decontamination, which for Laura took ages. The man did not try to make her abandon her idea. First of all, she wouldn't have listened anyway, secondly, he allowed her to do it himself, and thirdly, he admired her devotion to Joe. The girl spread a blanket on the floor and placed her books and makeup bag on it. Toby brought her a second blanket and a pillow. Only now has he noticed all those books were about hacking and programming. Laura sat down on a swivel stool standing by the bed, feeling sadness overwhelm her. She touched Joe's hand but immediately withdrew her hand hesitatingly. She looked at his wounded face still not believing what had happened. Again she closed his hand in hers. She felt her eyelids grow heavy as if they were made of lead.

She was awakened by a touch, a gentle stroking on the back of her hand. Her head rested on the edge of the bed, she didn't want to lift it or open her eyes.

"How long ... are... you here... Little Orchid?" asked a quiet voice, barely uttering individual words. She took a chance. She raised her head and looked in the direction from which the voice was coming. "Joe..." she cut the sentence. "Please... don't cry. After all... I'm alive," speaking was clearly difficult for him, during the pauses between words he tried to recall another which frustrated him immensely. "I'll call Toby," she said wanting to get up but he clumsily caught her hand, wanting to pull her closer to him. "First... kiss me." It was more of a demand than a request. "You're a complete idiot," she said with resentment in her voice. "I know."

Her sweet, soft lips were something he needed right now. Something he longed for. As they kicked him, and then he lost his sight, he realized that Laura was his beacon keeping him alive, allowing him to drift safely to the harbour.

They were interrupted by a loud grunt. "You should come and tell me Joe is awake," Toby admonished her sternly.

"I'm sorry," she replied, stepping away from the bed. "It's me... I wanted to..." Joe tried explaining. "You're the one to rest. A lot of work ahead of you. We had to load a backup of your main implant." "You could... leave me there...," he replied clearly angry. "Laura, leave us alone," the request sounded like a command, though Toby didn't want it at all.

The girl hurriedly moved toward the door. Her leg still hurt when walking but she pretended everything was fine.

"I have no... secrets from her. I want her to stay," Navras said firmly. His ability to speak was clearly improved. "Fine, whatever you want," he muttered.

Laura felt uncomfortable witnessing this conversation. They had their own matters that she shouldn't get involved in.

"I told you to turn back. I repeated it several times, but you decided to play the hero, which you are not. You could have died there." "That's true... but I'm here. Besides, I found... encrypted... data." "I'm afraid they were lost along with your old system," announced Toby.

The girl was almost sure she heard joy in his voice. She had nothing left to lose.

"Do you know... what you've done?! You... idiot!" shouted Joe still faintly. "Alex made a copy of the old system. I asked him to do it," she interjected.

Toby turned around. His gaze burned with rage.

There's a canvas with two faces Of fallen angels who loved and lost It was a passion for the ages And in the end guess we paid the cost

A thing of beauty, I know Will never fade away What you did to me, I know Said what you had to say But a thing of beauty

Berlin 2011. Lemon-Lime.

Laura and Joe's relationship, if what’s between them can be described that way at all, was like water communing with fire. There were days when they were able to communicate without words and the strength of the bond between them was evident. Together they formed a solid foundation that nothing could destroy. Then came a time which started with misunderstandings and quarrels over petty things. Conflicts gradually escalated, sentences were said that each of them regretted, doors slammed, glasses and plates smashed. When Joe forbade Laura to talk to some customers, he did so out of concern for her safety. Unfortunately, all sorts of people came to Lemon-Lime. Most of them he already knew quite well, and the girl couldn't understand his reasons. She let those people for too much, thinking she was attractive and they simply loved her. Besides, Joe resented her for giving up learning programming and hacking. Joe felt this would happen, but deep down he hoped he was wrong. He could use the time he spent on explaining and figuring out tasks for Laura to find the culprits behind his fiancée's death. Laura couldn't understand this either, but only because he didn't tell her directly.

It was Friday the thirteenth. An ordinary day like many others. Neither of them was superstitious and did not foresee something bad could happen. Joe, after another argument, locked himself in his cave with the intention of staying there as long as possible. One of the screens showed a map of the city and a red cursor point was blinking slowly. After about half an hour of piecing together facts and looking for clues, he was unable to find anything new. Joe had enough of wandering around in the dark. Everything was falling apart like a sand castle, even what he had started building with Laura.

"Listen carefully. I have information for you," he heard over the infolink when he wanted to leave already. "Visit the old warehouses. Maybe you'll find what you're looking for so much." "Who are you? Where did you get this frequency?" Navras asked.

The connection was lost.

Deep down Joe was enjoying this info like a boy who got a new toy. His mind was filled with hope that at last his efforts would become something real and tangible. He usually only visited dark alleys where gang members or social outcasts gathered. Joe hoped to get any information there. Soon his joy was drowned out by the voice of reason. He began thinking about what he should do. He didn't know who the person who gave him the information was, or if it was even true. The safest thing would have been to ignore the conversation as if it hadn't happened at all, but the thought that he might have missed an opportunity was stronger.

"Toby, I need VTOL. As soon as possible. There shouldn't be many visitors today, so Alex will take care of Lemon-Lime. Laura will help him, at least she won't demonstrate how angry she is with me," he said over the infolink. "Why the rush? It's not like you." Toby wanted to remind him that Joe wasn't blameless either, but gave up the idea. "I got the information," he said without going into detail. "Verified?" "No." "Joe..." Toby sighed. "I know, it's like walking into the jaw of a lion." "You need her. Despite everything." "Are you going to help me or not?" Another long sigh could be heard through the infolink. "I'll help. VTOL will be ready in a quarter of an hour." "Thank you, Toby," he said and ended the call.

Joe pushed his back against the backrest of the armchair so hard that it began to spring back slightly. Today's destination was an old warehouse complex, not the dark alleys of Berlin. Something far more dangerous, requiring all-around action, awaited him. He took a sip of red grape juice, then got up from his armchair and got back to his feet. A quarter of an hour is not much time to prepare. He wanted to meditate before departing, but that's not possible today.

"Locker," he commanded, and a panel in the wall opposite the entrance slid open revealing a safe. Navras put his hand to the reader and waited a moment. His robotic hands had fingerprints, although he knew of models that do not. He took two sword hilts from his locker and placed them on the bed, then immediately took a tight black sweater, grey military pants and lightweight athletic shoes from his closet. Usually, he didn't wear anything else but today he decided that something more sturdy would come in handy. At the bottom of the closet, he kept his old armour, which looked more like a bulletproof vest. He put it on, taking a moment to adjust the fastenings so the armour wouldn't restrict movement or be too loose. Joe grabbed the swords, which, aligned with his hands, blades unfolded in a fluid motion almost like a lightsaber. He took two V-shaped objects from a drawer and attached them to both of his temples. His eyes were covered by shields resembling glasses.

"Everything's ready, we can go," he heard Toby's voice over the infolink. "I'm on my way," Joe replied, before leaving he picked up a dark purple duster jacket hanging on an old-fashioned hanger standing by the entrance.

I see your eyes, I know you see me You're like a ghost how you're everywhere I'm your demon never leaving A metal soul of rage and fear

That one thing that changed it all That one sin that caused the fall

Berlin 2011. Lemon-Lime. Old Warehouses.

Joe walked down the corridor, passing Laura's room on the way until he reached the double doors. He entered the small hall, put on his coat and climbed the stairs with a quick pace, then pushed open the heavy metal door.

Navras was greeted by a cold February evening and the wind tugging at the leafless branches of the trees. Fortunately, Joe was immune to the cold. Thanks to his implants, he was able to mute the sensation of pain, heat or cold. The man tried to use this as infrequently as possible and with extreme caution because he clung to humanity that had largely already been taken from him. A metal elevation that was a helipad was located in the courtyard. Joe made sure that it was as secure as possible against visits from uninvited guests. The man boarded the VTOL and was soon in the air. Toby was silent the whole way which, on the one hand, was a good thing, but on the other hand made Navras uneasy.

Maybe twenty minutes had passed when the VTOL began a gentle descent. Joe couldn't concentrate, and kept thinking about how he had been too rough on Laura and said way too much.

"I won't be able to land too close. The area is well-guarded. I'm almost certain there's something suspicious going on here," the pilot informed him. "Maybe you should let go? At least temporarily?" "Out of the question. Land where you can. I'll take care of the rest myself." The man's voice was cold and firm.

Toby gasped but had to obey the boss. The VTOL landed about a kilometre from the target. This was the safest distance. Joe left his coat behind, got out and walked toward a large, fenced-in plaza. The first thing he noticed were lanterns, spotlighting the space. Right next to the fence were bushes and trees that provided temporary shelter. As Joe got closer, he found that Toby was right. His haste was reckless and driven only by his reluctance to meet Laura.

Two robots were patrolling the yard, and cameras bolted to the walls of the warehouses followed them. Of course, with the help of a few EMP grenades, he could at least immobilize the robots for a while. The problem was that all he had with him were his swords, a few doses of a substance that regenerates the power of his implants and some bandages. Joe should turn back, but admitting his mistake was beneath his dignity at the moment. Joe walked around the yard along the fence, looking for an entry point. He found a hole in the mesh, just behind the garbage containers. What surprised him most was that there were no people there. It's possible they were sitting in one of the buildings, and his sensors were unable to detect them from this distance. On the plaza stood two one-story rectangular warehouses built of red brick and five of rusting, ribbed sheet metal reinforced with wood and concrete. Railroad tracks ran through the middle of the square, on which stood an open freight car.

Navras walked closer using the piled-up crates, barrels and cardboard boxes as cover. The patrol robot was similar in appearance to a dog, following a marked path along the wagon. Halfway along the path, it would stop looking around to the side. The other walked in the opposite direction on the other side. There was a camera on the front wall of the building on the right. That did not make his passage any easier at all. When the robot disappeared from sight, the camera would follow him. There was a lamppost not far away, so he would be visible if he chooses to move that way. Even if he had a gun with the right kind of ammunition, the shot would have alerted everyone in the area. He could have used cloaking systems however he preferred to save his energy for later. Joe cursed his stupidity, but he needed names, and specific people, which the police were unable to give him. The entire investigation was closed for lack of evidence. Joe did not believe in the lack of evidence. He was sure they had covered the perpetrators, had been corrupted by them and rotted to the marrow. "What you're looking for," he heard from the mysterious informant, had to be a person or at least a note on a piece of paper.

Navras seized the moment when the narrow strip of land was in an empty field and sneaked straight into the open wagon. He made it at the last second. Joe used to be much faster even though sneaking is not his speciality. Joe looked out the other side, the camera just happened to be facing the opposite direction, but he almost got spotted by a robot. He waited a moment longer. Navras decided to start his search from the nearest building, one of two made of brick. "Blending in," he commanded, activated the cloaking system and ran to the door over which the camera was hanging. Hacking the lock went smoothly, although he was surprised to find that it had at most a second level of security. He cautiously stepped inside and made sure it was safe, turned off the cloaking system, and then scanned the room with his eyes. On the inside of the eye shields, Navras noticed the contents of crates, highlighted in violet, that piled up to the ceiling. They mainly contained prosthetic arms and legs, most likely smuggled in, packages of nerve implants and just a few crates of weapons. Other than that, nothing of interest to him. He activated his tactical armour again and left the building.

Hacking the door to the neighbouring warehouse was much more difficult. He had to use several tricks, most importantly slowing down the targeting by bombarding the system with spam. The tactical armour was losing power, and Joe now had no time to apply a renewal dose of energy. He managed to push through the defences and get inside almost simultaneously with the blending turning off. Joe hoped to find no one inside. Far too often today he relied on luck instead of skill and a solid plan of action.

This building was much more promising. It looked like an office where transportation was managed. Along the shorter wall stood desks, with two computers on them. Beside it, the desks were full of documents and folders. The middle of the warehouse was filled with closed metal cabinets and shelves with even more documents. Navras started with the computers, one of which was responsible for cameras and robots so he took the courtesy to turn them off, in addition to deactivating the invisible barrier that detects aircraft or drones. Joe already knew he needed to work on his skills because his attempt to break security was detected too quickly, and his defensive actions were far too slow. The second computer contained a lot of data, most of which concerned technical, logistical and, surprisingly, legal issues. Someone was trying to maintain a semblance of legality to his actions, but even in the e-mails, no names were mentioned. Some of the messages were encrypted, but he managed to copy them to his brain implant. Joe was about to open another e-mail when he felt a dull pain spill under his skull and the image blurring before his eyes.

"Play with him a little, then take the intruder to the gas, but he's supposed to still be alive," Navras heard before he lost consciousness. The voice was unfamiliar to him.

They stripped him of his armour and dragged Navras into one of the ribbed sheet metal buildings, which, although not very airtight was enough to make the gas concentration high enough to suffocate the man. By the time Joe regained consciousness, he had already been severely kicked in the back and abdomen. After waking up, he couldn't suppress the sensation of pain, so he wheezed throatily. He clenched his teeth to keep from screaming, trying only to hiss. Any loud announcement of suffering mostly ended in even more acrimonious and severe abuse. At first, he tensed his muscles to soften the blows somewhat, but now he no longer had the strength to do so. Joe kept repeating in his mind that Toby was right and that he should give up, but it was too late. Several EMP charges paralysed all systems. Navras strained, arching his body. The pain was unbearable as if someone had used a stun gun. Immediately afterwards, he felt more neuroprostheses shut down. Someone had remotely hacked his implants, and he was unable to prevent it. Joe wanted to find the culprit but the room wasn't well lit and the perpetrators were silent so he couldn't even tell if he could know them. Besides, all he could see in front of his eyes was a disturbance, then he lost his sight. It reached him what kind of shit he was in. Joe was beginning to fear they were about to tear out his arms and legs, which they would later sell on the black market. Fortunately, when he started to lose consciousness again, the kicks also stopped.

Gas filled his lungs, making him unable to breathe. Joe vomited twice while lying on the floor. He was blind and deaf, crippled and humiliated. Someone grabbed him by the neck with a firm grip. It was no ordinary human hand. His inert body flew a meter, maybe two, and hit the wall of a freight car. The blade like an auger pierced his abdomen. Once, a second and a third time. After that, everything stopped. Under his back, he felt the gravel sharp as spikes. Navras did not get his answers, instead, he let himself be trapped. His mouth was filled with the unpleasant taste of earth mixed with gasoline and blood. He still couldn't see anything. He was deaf, and his limbs remained numb. All he had left was a muffled sense of smell, and this in turn hinted there was a fire somewhere. A moment later he thought he felt the heat, but maybe it was just something he remembered, now randomly evoking the sensation. He was getting weaker from the flow of blood. Joe couldn't even judge how serious the wound was.

A thing of beauty, I know Will never fade away What you did to me, I know Said what you had to say But a thing of beauty, I know Will never fade away And I'll do my duty, I know Somehow I'll find a way But a thing of beauty Will never fade away And I'll do my duty

Connor stopped and turned around. He heard no footsteps, only the hiss of broken cables and sizzling flames. He looked around some more and waited a moment, hidden in one of the offices. He wanted to be sure that no one was chasing him any more. In the meantime, he got rid of his Belltower uniform, the wearing of which filled him with disgust. He came out of hiding after a few minutes, then returned to the place where he had left Laura. There he found a fire, the fumes of a choking gas that had yet to subside, and a hole in the wall. He was afraid to look at what was on the other side but had no choice. He covered his mouth with his jacket sleeve and cautiously walked closer. What he saw he did not expect even in his most ghastly imaginings. Laura and Adam were lying unconscious on the ground. The man had a hole in his temple, and glass bristled with sharp spikes covered his entire body. The woman's head was leaning against his torso. Blood was everywhere. Connor took his phone out of his pants pocket and typed a message.

"I have failed. The subject is dead. C." "Are you sure...?" After a few seconds of silence, another message came in. "Code 9136 - Begin Operation Death and Rebirth."

The man bypassed the systems lockout and sent a looped S.O.S call to Pritchard.

"I didn't like you, Adam. But I hope someone finds you."

Sarif Industries. David Sarif's office. Fifteen minutes past two in the morning.

Frank picked up the call for help and immediately ran to Sarif's office. He was never in the habit of rushing, but the situation was exceptional. The elevator was far too slow but it was better than running up the stairs.

"Boss!" he shouted, barely opening the glass door. "Someone survived. I got an S.O.S. signal. It came from the labs." "There's nothing we can do," Sarif replied in a rough voice. "No one from the outside can know, and we don't have the right equipment." "But after all, that's where Adam is," he pressed.

The fact that he hated the Security Chief did not mean that he wished him death. He hoped that Jensen and Megan were alive.

"What about Megan and her research?" he tried to use another argument. "Frank, tell me why do you care so much about the police coming here? After all, it was you who triggered the alarm. You said it was just a drill, and then we were attacked," Sarif's tone was measured. It was hard to hear in it what he really felt. "Boss, you don't think I could do something like that, do you?" asked outraged Pritchard. "I have to consider every possibility, and you temporarily have no explanation," he replied, looking toward the glass wall behind which the outlines of the skyscrapers were visible. "I don't have one, and I won't have one. However, if it is as you think, would I be standing here now? Would I come running with the desire to save anyone? Yes, I could try to divert attention from myself with this, but the investigation would still point to me as the guilty one. If it were me, I would be sitting on some exotic island at the time of the attack. Meanwhile, I myself demand to call for help and save everything we can," Frank explained while catching a few short breaths. His nervousness was perfectly reflected in his words. David rubbed his temple. "You're right, Pritchard, and I believe you. I've known you too long to find you guilty. But this is me. The police will say otherwise. People in the company will talk about it." "I don't care," he growled firmly. "I can be a pain in the ass, but I have my moral backbone."

Sarif was surprised by his candour. Francis had always been rude and narcissistic. He was treating others with superiority, taking advantage, and demonstrating his skills. Meanwhile, he now showed that hardly anyone actually knew him.

"Okay, I'll call in outside help. Most of our people are probably dead anyway, and besides, we don't have the equipment to get to the labs." "We evacuated who we could, but Malik is nowhere to be found."

Sarif Industries Lobby. Twenty-five minutes past two in the morning.

Faridah got off the VTOL in a particularly foul mood. She entered the company slamming the glass doors. Good thing it wasn't so easy to break them. She walked straight to her colleague's office with the intention of telling him where he could shove his stupid jokes, especially on a day like this. Fortunately, Sarif flew on another flight, and the speech isn't until tomorrow so she'll have time to get Megan and Adam to their destination. It wasn't until a long while later that she heard the alarm wail, immediately followed by a flash of blue and red lights pouring into the lobby. At first, she thought maybe someone had fainted, so an ambulance was called, but the din was too loud. She decided to check what had happened. Paramedics and police officers passed her by. She saw the injured and the dead people. Silhouettes kept passing by her, and voices mixed in a cacophony. She suspected maybe there had been an accident. Maybe there had been some kind of explosion in the laboratories. On one of the ambulance stretchers was Adam covered with gold foil. Then she realized it was something very serious. Still, Faridah couldn't believe what she saw, so she pushed the image to the deepest recesses of her consciousness. It could have been someone similar. Everything was happening so fast. She tried to find out what happened but no one answered her. She ran to the elevator and nervously pressed the button. The waiting, as well as the whole way to Sarif's office, were like the worst torture. Athene was not at the reception desk so she entered the office without asking. There she found Pritchard and the boss.

"Faridah! Where have you been?! We've been looking for you everywhere," Frank said.

The woman would have given her head that the head of Cyber Security was glad to see her.

"Some joker ordered me to fly to D.C. He said they had a problem with the plane and needed someone as a replacement. You supposedly agreed to it yourself, boss," she said with anger in her voice.

David's eyes grew unnaturally large. By now he was standing wrapping his side with his left hand and rubbing his chin with his right robotic hand. Hearing her words, both his arms straightened along his torso. The gold ornamentation on the black prosthesis flashed in the light of the spherical lamp hanging from the ceiling.

"I don't know anything about it," he managed to say in just one short sentence. "Holy shit," muttered Malik. She couldn't ask the question, but she had to know. "I thought I saw Adam. They were carrying him on an ambulance stretcher."

They were interrupted by the phone vibrating on the top of the graphite desk. Sarif picked it up, looked at the displayed number and answered.

"David Sarif, speaking," he said in his usual boss tone.

There was not even a hint of sadness, anger or preoccupation with what had happened in his voice.

"Yes, I understand. Thank you for the quick notice. Until we speak again," he ended the call, putting the phone down on the desktop. "Adam died in the ambulance. They didn't manage to get him to the hospital."

Malik felt her legs refuse to obey her. With difficulty, she walked over to the armchair and sat down heavily on it.

"Fuck..." she said quietly, cupping her face in her hands.

Stories of danger, fearless attack, Spectres of plague and pain. All of these ghosts of our own delusions come back; And we'll be haunted again, haunted again.

For though the storms are over and past, Though the thunder's rage is quieted at last Well this nightmare's laid me down in the rags here to mourn, Here to mourn. The night has left us crippled with grief As we strive to keep alive our belief, But a loss so great, it clouds all our hopes for the dawn.

Location - Unknown. Time - Unknown.

She sank into the darkness as if into a bottomless void. There were whales floating around. She had always wanted to see a whale. A ribbon of blood disturbed the blackness rippling toward the surface. She was falling. Oily shadows coated her, invading her nose, ears and mouth. She could feel them swarming her brain. The unbearable ticking of clocks which suddenly began to ring. A whirling ballerina shattering into shards of golden glass. A meadow of broken orchids. Falling petals of magnolia flowers on a withered tree. The pain. Loneliness. Death.

"Artery forceps! Faster, damn it!" "Pulse is weakening!" "Defibrillation!" "No heart rate." "Again!" "Still nothing."

Silence and darkness. The smell of cinnamon and ginger. No, it’s cigar smoke and the smell of cognac. The stench of sweat, burnt skin and acid. The screams. The crying. Despair.

"I won't give her up so easily! Again!" "No response." "Again!" "She's dead." "Bullshit!" yelled a voice. "Give it to me and move away if you don't want to help." "Let her go."

The body jerked like a marionette moved by its strings. Closed eyes, half-open lips, tousled hair streaks stuck with sweat and blood. Breath. Sudden, nervous and uneven. Flocks of hummingbirds froze in space, whirring their wings. The light breaks up the darkness. It is bright and warm. It explodes into the void with a thousand colours.

"It worked, the heart is beating again." "I knew she would choose life."

Hidden so deep in veils of deceit, Imprisoned in twisting spells - Are we the plaything of fiends, or merely the dreams That we're telling ourselves, telling ourselves?

Stories of danger, fearless attack, Spectres of plague and pain. All of these ghosts of our own delusions are back; Have we been fighting in vain? Fighting in vain?

Location - Unknown. Two days after the attack.

The pleasant coolness of silk bedding. The light irritates the eyelids. Eyes can't accept the brightness. Breathing hurts with life. The whole body hurts. The pain flows with the blood, it's everywhere.

"You are awake. I was beginning to worry," she heard a familiar voice. "What, where am I?" she asked. The words were quiet and clumsy.

An attempt to raise her torso upright resulted in a piercing pain in her left shoulder and abdomen. The woman hissed and sank back against the pillow. Gasping, awkwardness, and being dependent on someone. Something she never liked, but accepted for Joe's sake.

"Don't move or the stitches will burst," commanded the man's firm tone.

She knew the voice, but her mind was too slow, unable to attribute it to a person.

"Who are you? Where am I?" the questions came one after another. The fear could be felt in them. "Calm down. It's me, Connor. You're at my house," he said in a measured tone that was a mixture of friendly concern and matter-of-fact explanation. "A-ha," she wheezed, carefully taking a breath in. "Adam is safe, right?"

He dreaded the question so much that he had several answers ready. None of them was satisfactory.

"Yes, he's in the hospital but he'll be fine."

A necessary lie, for her sake. The truth would kill her, but after all, she should know.

"That's good. At least I didn't screw it up," she muttered. "Will you get me a glass of water? I'm terribly thirsty." "Of course," he replied, reaching for a crystal pitcher standing on a white cabinet by the bed.

He filled the glass halfway and sat down on the edge of the bed. Supporting Laura's head, he slowly slid the vessel to her lips. The woman drank greedily to the last drop.

"I remember almost nothing. How long has it been?" "Two days. The doctors at the hospital gave you strong sleeping pills and sedatives. They had a lot of severe cases, so they agreed to discharge you. Of course, if something were to happen, I am to inform them immediately." "I have to see Adam," she demanded and wanted to get up already. "That's out of the question. You have to recover first and so does he."

The woman gasped. Connor was right, but pride wouldn't let her say it out loud. She wanted to ask about Stalker but the cat came and jumped on the bed.

"You even thought about him. What about Vanilla?" she asked, stroking the cat's head. "Faridah took her. I wouldn't have been able to take care of two cats."

This was acutely true, although he really wanted to take both of them, he didn't have enough room for them to feel comfortable here. His apartment was small, carefully laid out and perfectly clean. Stalker disrupted the order of things only because Connor loved cats as much as dogs. He was even able to forgive him for scratching the sofa and knocking over a flower pot.

"I'll stay until tomorrow and go back to my place," she announced. "We've already abused your hospitality anyway." "Laura, listen carefully because I'm only going to say this once. I have no intention of listening to this self-pity. If I couldn't or wouldn't, you'd be lying in the hospital right now or I don't know where. So be so kind and save this nonsense for someone else."

The woman tried to twist to her right side, but the wound was making itself known too much. Somewhere in the back of her mind stuck the thought that Connor hadn't told her everything.

"I'm going to go prepare breakfast. What would you like?" he asked. "Cereal is enough." "In that case, I'll make toast with salami and melted cheese."

A quarter of an hour later, the man returned to the bedroom with a tray on which stood a large plate of toast, two mugs of hot tea with lemon, a bottle of ketchup, two plates and paper napkins. He took a seat on the bed next to her and immediately got down to eat. Cold indifference is effective in most cases. This was also the case this time. At first, Laura only glanced as more triangles, topped with ketchup, disappeared from the plate. Later, it began to occur to her that Connor wasn't joking at all, and if she didn't hurry, she would be hungry. The hacker took two toasts at once in a quick movement. Managing to bite a piece she heard his laughter.

"What are you laughing at?" she asked with her mouth full. "With you, of course," he replied, still laughing.

The woman furrowed her eyebrows ominously. "Have I become a court jester?"

"Not at all, but I knew this was the only way to get you to eat anything. I don't suppose you're angry about that?" "On the contrary. You're helping me a lot in dealing with all that happened. It was so sudden and precise. Who could have done it?" she wondered. "Don't bother with it now. You'll have time for that during your testimony." "Well, yes, I forgot that the police would ask about everything," she sighed.

At the mere mention of the police station, her mood worsened.

Laura stepped into a pool of blood. At the mere mention of all the missions, she had done with Damien, a wave of involuntary convulsions and an attack of nausea went through her body. Their tasks always ended the same way - a mass of corpses piling up and blood flowing on the floor. Stumbling over pieces of metal doors lying on the ground, she tried to find Adam. All she knew was that he might have been in subsection six. Along the way, she met someone who was still alive. She tried helping but he died before she could make a makeshift tourniquet from a piece of cloth. Blood coated her hands, despair and guilt overwhelmed her thoughts. If she had been more vigilant, this would not have happened.

She looked into empty rooms but found only more blood and corpses. The rest of the corridor was blocked by rectangular containers stacked vertically up to the ceiling. One of them was tilted and leaned against another, creating a triangular gap. The woman grabbed a dead hand and pulled out the corpse lying in the passage. Apparently, the man wanted to get out that way but had been killed before he could. She squeezed through to the other side wiping the blood from the floor with her clothes. Laura passed the glass-walled room in which the dilapidated machine stood, walked past the overturned flower pots and went down some stairs. An illuminated image of clouds and strawberries flashed on the screen of the vending machine, and several cans lay on the ground. She already wanted to turn right but heard voices so she pressed her back to the wall, cautiously peeking around the corner. Her passage was blocked by two mercenaries armed with automatic rifles. She had no chance with them, so she had to find another way to pass. There was nothing on the ceiling to climb on and help her to walk over their heads. Only partially broken lamps and cables. She backtracked a bit, then entered one of the offices and moved a box standing on the desk. Behind it, she found another ventilation tunnel that led her straight to where the mercenaries were standing.

"Did you hear that noise?" a man of muscular stature asked his colleague. "What noise?" asked the other, surprised. "Something like a rumbling noise." "Sure, in your empty head," he sneered.

Damn, thought the hacker. She tried thinking of something that could draw them away but to no avail. She wanted to turn back, to find some other passage but something started to happen.

"Rogue One, do you read me?" the muscular one heard on the communicator. "Rogue One, over," he replied. "Give me a status report," "Quiet and calm. Everyone is dead. We are waiting for further orders." "Move your arses, both of you. We need you guys. I got a report that someone is massacring ours." "We'll be right there. Over and out."

Laura carefully opened the hatch and stepped out into the corridor. She decided to follow the two because they could lead her to Adam.

Sarif Industries Underground and ventilation tunnels. Subsection six of the laboratories. Thirty minutes past one in the morning.

Connor ran down the fire stairs all the way to the basement. The door wouldn't open so he first kicked at it and then pushed with his shoulder. Down a narrow corridor, he moved to the right, passing a hole in the wall on the way. So this is how they got into the company unnoticed, he thought. One of the pipes hanging from the low ceiling was cracked, and he didn't manage to avoid the stream of cold water. He cursed silently. The man didn't have a map of the area, so he followed his instincts a bit. He followed the trail of mud until he reached the end of the corridor. For a moment he lost his orientation. The footsteps broke off but didn't turn back, so they had to find the exit. The hacker looked up at the pipes. They looked solid so without much thought he climbed them and then jumped across straight to the open vent grate. It was wide enough that he fit in without a problem and still had plenty of room to move around. The tunnel ended in a cleaning supplies storeroom, and the door to it was open so he cautiously looked out. There was only one mercenary in the corridor. Connor recognized immediately that he was one of the Belltower Spec Ops. He was alone and wasn't expecting anything. Such an opportunity he could not miss.

In the room, he found a piece of sturdy rope, the ends of which he wrapped around his hands. Again he peeked down the corridor to see if his target hadn’t turned around. Slowly and quietly he stepped outside, sneaking toward the man. When he was close enough, in a swift motion he wrapped the rope around the man's neck tightening it around. Belltower grunted and tried to scream but Connor's grip was strong, surprisingly as for his slim figure. As he slumped inertly to the ground, the hacker dragged him into the storage room. Having taken off his uniform, he decided to take on the role of mercenary himself, hoping this will give him a way to move around the labs without any problems and maybe even hear their plans. Before he went looking for Laura, he had checked what weapons and ammunition he had at his disposal. One never knows when it might come in handy. In addition to the FR-27 SFR, a modern fully automatic combat rifle, he also had a Zenith 10mm polymer framed semi-automatic compact pistol and a combat knife. Along with that, he found in his belt pocket three spare clips for each of the guns. Through the communicator, he heard talking about regrouping and orders of heading immediately to the main laboratory room. He took this as a good sign since the corridors would be less guarded. Connor tried to move like a military man, with a confident pace and his head raised high. He had passed several rooms before he heard screams that didn't sound like cries for help. They were fiery curses, the kind that only one person he knew could use.

Laura struggled fiercely with two mercenaries who were holding her hands and tried to push her into one of the offices.

"Where are you taking this woman?" asked Connor, trying to be firm. "She works at Cyber Security. She may have something interesting to say, so we want to get her to cooperate," explained the taller, muscular one.

They both laughed, looking at each other. They knew what “to cooperate” meant.

"I'm taking her over. You guys should go to the main hall." "But we have..." they tried protesting. "That's an order!" he growled, taking advantage of the fact that he was higher in rank. "Yes, sir!" they replied and reluctantly left. "You want to urge me to cooperate too, flatfeet?!" shrieked the hacker. "Let your dick wither!"

The man could not contain his laughter.

"Why are you chuckling, you idiot?!" "You're cute," he replied, taking off his balaclava. "Connor! What are you doing here? And in this disguise?" "I came to save you." "You're short for a stormtrooper or even a mercenary," she concluded, to which the man merely shrugged his shoulders. "We'd better hurry before those two realize I lied to them," he urged, covering his face again.

Together they followed down the corridor. Wanting to bypass the main hall. They tried to find another passage but always encountered some obstacles on the way.

"Damn, we're at a dead end," growled Connor." "Stay here, I'll go through the main hall," decided Laura. "Out of the question!" he protested. "I don't want any demonstration of female strength and stupidity in one." "I'm not stupid. Besides, this is not the time to argue! We still don't know where Adam is." "I'll distract them, and you'll pass by quietly."

The hacker was not at all happy with this idea. Another person might get hurt because of her.

"Are you going or not?" he urged so she had to agree.

Just before the entrance to the room several dead mercenaries were laying, which immediately hinted to them that Jensen must have passed this way. They both pressed their backs to the wall on either side of the open door. There must have been a fierce exchange of gunfire inside. Connor noticed many bullet marks and even more bodies of people from Belltower. Unfortunately, new ones had come in their place and were patrolling the room. It would be uneasy to pass through quietly. To the left of the entrance was a covered area with standing cabinets arranged in a horseshoe shape. The entire space was filled with research stations, with bored mercenaries armed with rifles walking between them, and the stairs opposite were occupied by snipers. When the nearest patrol man wasn't looking and the laser beams were pointed sideways, Connor ran out the door and nimbly hid behind one of the cabinets, ordering Laura to wait. He decided to put everything on the line. After all, he was wearing the uniform of one of them, and besides, he could lie quite well. He slowly came out of hiding, pretending he had to tie his shoe.

"Hey, you there!" shouted one of the mercenaries. "Yes, TK421, I'm talking to you!" "TK421 at your service, sir!" said Connor. "Why aren't you at your post?" "We have a... leak of flammable substances there. We had to evacuate. Need a few minutes to lock it down," he explained. "I don't know anything about it. I have to check it out."

The hacker cursed in his mind. "Negative. Uh, large leak, very dangerous. The area is unsafe. Besides, Berlin won't like you bothering him with bullshit," he tried to save his arse.

A moment's hesitation gave hope that the bluff had worked, but the mercenary proved to be more clever.

"Password!" he ordered, putting the barrel of the gun to his temple.

Laura couldn't wait for Connor to die before her eyes. She felt her heart thud. Her pulse quicken and her breathing become uneven. She was paralysed with that old dormant fear. By sheer force of will, she moderated her ragged breathing and concentrated on calming her racing pulse. Just as Joe had taught her. She took advantage of the time Connor gave her to get into a comfortable position. The place of fear was taken by the desire to fight, to protect the other person and to survive at all costs. She picked up the rifle lying on the ground, checked the magazine and reloaded. She did not disdain the combat knife either. If they are to die, it is together.

The man could already hear the roar of gunfire in his head. He knew he had not been able to protect Laura or help her. A series of gunshots caused the mercenaries to panic, scatter in search of the enemy and find cover, taking up positions.

“IDF, get to cover!” an order was heard.

Connor managed to jump off to the left and hide before one of the snipers targeted him. The shots were very precise, so he reflexively looked in the direction from which they came. He expected it was Adam who had come to help them. There was a surprise on his face when he saw Laura with a rifle in her hands. It looked as if she knew perfectly well how to use the weapon and did nothing by accident.

“Suppressive fire!” another order.

The rest of the Belltower opened fire. The sound of breaking glass mixed with the swish of bullets and screams. A fire extinguisher exploded, and a lamp hissed. Connor joined the exchange of fire. One of the snipers leaned over the railing and fell to the ground with a clatter. Laura found a smoke grenade and threw it at the place where most of the enemies were grouped. Taking advantage of the cloud of smoke, she moved closer to Connor. On the way, she killed two mercenaries with a knife.

"Are you crazy?!" he growled when she was next to him. "Possibly," she replied, leaning out from behind the cover and firing a series of shots. "I could use more of those grenades," she said. "I have two more, but I don't like what you did! That was..." "Shut up. We have to survive. Then you can spank me."

They fired alternately, using the magazines found near the corpses. They understood each other without words and complemented each other in every move. While she was looking for ammunition, he was covering her and vice versa. It seemed as if they danced in a cloud of dust and pearls of blood. They slowly moved toward the stairs. The rumble echoed under the ceiling, spilling out into the corridor with the scream of metal, the ringing of glass and the hiss of lamps. They clung to life, fiercely tearing out every breath, but soon they were black on ammo and the number of enemies was dwindling all too slowly. Fatigue crept under their skin and tightened their muscles.

"I only have pistol magazines left," the man said, panting. "We must try to escape, or we will die here." "I still have some ammunition for the rifle. Take it and cover me," she said, barely catching her breath.

Her face was dirty and scratched, and her hair was tousled. She tore up her pants at the knee and her blouse over her left shoulder. At this moment Laura looked like a real video game or movie heroine. With fire in her eyes and a strong will to fight to the last drop of blood.

"Out of the question! You are not Lara Croft to play heroine," he said. "This is not playing the heroine. It’s teamwork. It’s us or them, and I don’t want to die here. We have two grenades left. I'll take one with me, and you throw the other when I come out from behind cover." "There are two snipers out there," he reminded. "I'll take care of them but you have to help me." "Agreed. Move before they shoot us like ducks."

The grenade soared into the air and splattered with a cloud of thick smoke. Laura stepped out from behind the cover and ran to the next one. She picked up a pistol from the ground and shot two enemies on her way to the stairs, trying to aim for the head as Joe had taught her. She threw a second grenade upstairs and ran up the stairs. She stabbed one of the snipers in the neck, using the corpse as a human shield. She waited until those downstairs ran out of ammunition and had to reload.

It went a little harder with the second sniper because the smoke curtain was starting to fall. She kicked him in the knee, but in response, she received a blow to the head with the rifle barrel. She groaned in pain, froze, and saw in the shreds of her vision that Connor had been wounded in the hand. Soon blood dripping from her temple covered the vision. At the last moment, she dodged a kick to the abdomen, then pushed the sniper toward the railing with all her strength. The man hit it, lost his balance and fell, bouncing off the railing below. Laura grabbed his rifle and tracked the target. Her hands trembled terribly which made it difficult to shoot accurately. Taking a deep breath, she fired. Blood flowed from the head of the mercenary who was close to Connor. The hacker ran to the next cover, taking advantage of the protection Laura provided. He used the rest of his ammunition to defend himself. He killed maybe one or two. When he joined the woman, he was able to breathe and relax, at least for a while.

"You're treating this like a game," he snarled, taking off his balaclava. "I almost died here!" "Almost makes a difference," she muttered and fired.

Connor picked up the other rifle, but the wound made it nearly impossible for him to hold the weapon steady, so he leaned the barrel against a horizontal part of the railing.

"You didn't say you knew how to shoot. After all, you are afraid of guns." "When a friend's life is at stake, you stop feeling fear."

More shots eliminated several enemies. Fortunately, this time those below preferred to sit in hiding rather than try to reach them.

"A woman with a sniper rifle looks very sexy," he muttered while reloading his gun. "I like long barrels," she replied, and the hacker laughed. "You know how to handle them," he admitted amused. "An innate talent." "In that case, tell me how this talent could have ended up in the hands of these arseholes?" "Bad luck. I wanted to follow them, cause maybe they would have led me to Adam. They noticed me because I kicked the bucket." "A-ha," he said trying not to laugh.

The last two enemies were killed by Connor. They gave themselves a moment to rest, feeling the fatigue growing. A few minutes later, RK800 got up, wanting to go, but the hacker stopped him.

"Wait, your arm," she said. "It's just a scratch," he protested, but Laura returned with a first aid kit that was lying on one of the stands. "A scratch indeed," she stressed the last word as she dressed the wound. "Quite a duo of us, anyway," she admitted. "You don't think we could go around murdering like that, do you?" "Why not?" she shrugged her shoulders and laughed. "Done, we can go on."

Before they moved on, they took weapons from the fallen. Laura felt her fear of firearms slowly returning, but now she couldn't let it prevail. She took the pistol, and the man took the automatic rifle. The corridor on the other side was empty, and Adam was still nowhere to be found.

I feel like I'm losing hope In my body and my soul And the sky, it looks so ominous And as time comes to a halt Silence starts to overflow My cries are inconspicuous

Sarif Industries Subsection six of the laboratories. 10 minutes to 2 a.m.

Jensen shot several mercenaries while struggling with a sore leg. He thought he saw a woman who looked more like a robot than a human, but she disappeared before he could get a better look. Megan was nowhere to be found, which didn't make him feel any better at all, and Pritchard still didn't answer. The only thing he was sure of was the non-accidental target of the attack. The destruction was done only in the laboratories so whoever was behind it must have cared about research or prototypes.

"Pritchard, can you hear me? Laura! Connor! Anyone!" he tried connecting once again but to no avail. "Damn it," he growled under his breath.

Adam checked the cylinder and searched his belt pocket. The state of spare ammo did not fill him with optimism, so he started looking around for a second weapon on the way. He found only a pistol, which he slipped into a holster on his right hip and a couple of magazines. That had to be enough. Hearing gunshots, he intended to turn back and find out if it was mercenaries killing Sarif Industries employees or if someone had come to help. Everything went silent before he took a few steps so he abandoned that idea. His leg was hurting more and more, and he had one last Vicodin pill left. He searched through first aid kits on the way, but the pills he found there wouldn't help him at all.

"Megan!" he yelled because he had nothing else left. "Megan, where are you?!" "Are you looking for someone boy?" he heard a female voice behind him.

He turned around but saw no one.

"You're lost, aren't you?" again the same voice, again he saw no one.

The Chief of Security wabbled as if he were drunk and leaned his shoulder against the wall. Vicodin raged through his mind with ghastly visions, eating away at his consciousness piece by piece.

"Let's have some fun with him," interjected a rough male voice.

Tell me God, are you punishing me? Is this the price I'm paying for my past mistakes? This is my redemption song I need you more than ever right now Can you hear me now?

Someone grabbed him by the neck and lifted him above the ground high enough that he was unable to touch it with the tips of his shoes. It was a strong hug, crushing his throat, taking away his breath. He wanted to at least try to fight back, but the fingers of his hand could not match the strength of the robotic hand. The opponent was tall, about two meters tall. Adam tried to remember what he looked like, but the image rippled, blurred and lied. The hair was probably light, but maybe it was just the light that gave a false portrait. The bull-like nose piercing, he wasn't sure about that either. He wasn't sure of anything, not even whether he was still alive.

"Woof woof! The dog doesn't bark?" he laughed throatily as he watched the life escaping from Jensen like air from a perforated ball. "End this game, Barrett. Dispose of him," he heard through the infolink the angry voice of Namir, who was not far away, burning a corpse. "When I'm just getting started," he replied in the tone of a disgruntled child. "Asap!"

The security chief felt the grip tighten and all that was left was the air stored in his lungs. His eyes darkened. A shot, a second and a third cut through the air with a swish. None of them managed to injure Barrett, but they focused his attention enough to make him let go of Adam. When Tyrant turned his head, he saw a puny woman aiming a gun at him, the barrel of which was still smoking. He laughed.

'Cause we're gonna shout it loud Even if our words seem meaningless It's like I'm carrying the weight of the world I wish that someway, somehow That I could save every one of us But the truth is that I'm only one girl Maybe if I keep believing my dreams will come to life Come to life

Laura recognized the laughter, recognized the massive figure and face. All the memories merged into a single point named Damien. Her blood almost froze in her veins, but her heart seemed to thud.

Barrett moved straight for Laura. In a split second, he grabbed her by the neck and threw her against the wall. Connor appeared only now. His aching hand slowed him down, and the woman didn't want to wait. Without thinking, he shot Barrett with a series of rifle shots, but the bullets did nothing to him. They only distracted him, and that was enough for him. He threw himself into a run, intending to drag him away from Laura and Adam.

Jensen tried getting up but couldn't move his leg. He only managed to sit up when someone grabbed him by the neck again.

"Fucking hell! Do I have to do everything myself?!" yelled Namir, then threw Jensen like a puppet.

The Security Chief flew across the corridor and through a small office. The sound of breaking glass vibrated in his head. He almost didn't feel the splinters piercing into his hands, face and stomach. On the other side was Megan. She sat hunched over in the corner. Her panicked scream echoed through the adjacent office as Jensen's body flew right past and collapsed to the ground.

"Barrett, leave him alone. You've fallen for an old trick," Yelena ordered.

The light-haired man stopped, and Connor disappeared from his sight. "I'll get you, motherfucker, you'll see," he growled under his breath and turned back.

Laura regained consciousness and raised herself on her hands to a sitting position. The focus of vision was slowly returning. She was alone. Her gaze went back to the hole in the wall. She forced all her muscles to cooperate and stood up. Before Barrett had time to catch her she was already on the other side. Adam was leaning with his back against a low cabinet. He was covered in blood. A man in a bulletproof vest, black military pants and heavy boots was pointing a gun held in a robotic hand at him. The muscles from which the skin had been torn off looked ghastly even though they were not real. Laura didn't hesitate for even a split second. She found herself between Adam and the gun pointed at him. The roar of the gunshot echoed around the room, the bullet hit the woman in the left shoulder and then in Jensen's temple. The woman fell to the ground losing consciousness. She wanted to die so badly. So much, because living with the knowledge that she couldn't protect him is worse than it.

After all the laughter fades Signs of life all washed away I can still, still feel a gentle breeze No matter how hard I pray Signs of warning still remain And life has become my enemy

Tell me God, are you punishing me? Is this the price I'm paying for my past mistakes? This is my redemption song I need you more than ever right now Can you hear me now?

'Cause we're gonna shout it loud Even if our words seem meaningless It's like I'm carrying the weight of the world I wish that someway, somehow That I could save every one of us But the truth is that I'm only one girl Maybe if I keep believing my dreams will come to life Come to life

Sarif Industries Underground parking lot. 10 minutes past midnight.

Five black armoured vans impetuously broke the railings prohibiting access to the parking lot. A security guard fell out of the guardhouse armed with a pistol, seeking to respond to the intrusion. A single shot hit the concrete ceiling, and the man's body shook with spasms. A short burst from an automatic rifle perforated him like a sieve, spraying pearls of blood into the air. His bulletproof vest did not help. The bodyguard fell inertly to the ground next to his baseball cap with the Sarif Industries logo. His dead stare was frozen on the wall of the watchtower, partially stripped of paint. The roar of engines filled the space. Another series of shots were fired. A woman's scream, a man's terror. Several guards fell lifeless before they could reach for their holstered weapons. The faint lights of the ceiling lamps blinked rhythmically. Almost 50 people poured out of the vans like a sea. They were dressed in black military-style body armor with red elements and balaclavas. One of them, probably the squad leader, ordered his subordinates to split up with a hand gesture. Half moved down the fire stairs, while the other moved through the double doors of the warehouse, which were blown up almost without any sound.

Sarif Industries David Sarif's office. 15 minutes past midnight.

Another message appeared on the screen in Sarif's office. This time it came from the lobby. Adam was beginning to have doubts, but if something had happened, he would know about it.

"Boss, I'm going back to my office. I need to make sure it's still Frank." "But, son!" David tried to stop him. "Please secure the office. No one but me is allowed to enter!" he ordered.

Sarif was far from believing that someone could have attacked them, but he followed the order. After all, that's what one has a Security Chief for.

Adam fell out into the corridor, and his body was immediately paralysed by pain radiating upward from his knee. The man clenched his teeth, cursing in his mind that this was happening just now, and with a nervous movement took out a Vicodin from his pants pocket. He took two pills at once. Athene was not at the reception desk. Apparently she took the alarm seriously. The elevator was upstairs so he rode it down to his office, from which he took his gun, the Colt revolver that had been his faithful and reliable companion for many years, and some spare ammo. He also put on a bulletproof vest over a brown turtleneck sweater.

After leaving the office, he looked down at the lobby. There were only guards there ready to take action. He wanted to speak to Pritchard in person, but protecting the boss was his priority at the moment. Adam was afraid for Laura, but if Connor was there, he was sure he would be better protection. Jensen returned to Sarif's office and used the code to go through a door covered by an shell-proof wall. He was surprised to see David pointing a gun at him, which he lowered as soon as he saw that the newcomer posed no threat to him.

"I checked the Lobby. Only our guards are there," he informed.

Another wave of pain almost dazed him. With difficulty, he managed not to show anything afterwards.

Sarif Industries Chief of Cyber Security’s office. 25 minutes past midnight.

Pritchard was pleased to see everything going according to plan. The video surveillance showed perfect tranquillity, even all too beautiful. Laura felt a growing anxiety. Every alarm had the same effect on her, so she partly tried to control that unbearable feeling of fear. No one suspected that what they saw was far from the truth.

"The area is clear. Sarif's dog returned to the doghouse. Whaler's squad can enter," one of the guards heard in the earpiece.

Everyone left the lobby, heading for the floor. A hand could be seen in the ajar door of one of the restrooms, and the interior of the room was filled with corpses of real security guards. Cameras mirrored the hallways, but Frank didn't really have control over any of them.

"I think we can cancel the alarm in about 10 minutes," Pritchard muttered. "See? I have everything under control. You'll make it to Washington in time for tomorrow's speech."

Sarif Industries Sewers and ventilation tunnels. 30 minutes past midnight.

Three people reached the right manhole, which was supposed to be in the station that provides water supply to the building.

"Fuck, Namir! You're fucked up for this shit walking!" growled a man with light hair and the posture of a bull. He looked down at his heavy boots in disgust. "Shut the fuck up, Barrett!" replied a thin man with a body that looked like muscles stripped from the skin. "Calm down, both of you!" the only woman on the team tried to bring order. "We have a job to do. The Whalers have already entered, the Belltower too, so move your fucking arses."

A foreign accent, probably Russian, could be heard in her speech. The left half of her head was shaved bald, and the right half showed shoulder-length dark hair. She had an earring in her nose, similar to those which bulls had.

"Holy shit, didn't they have smaller hatches!" complained Barrett once he managed to get out. "It's a good thing we're talking through Infolink, otherwise the whole fucking company would already know about us," commented Namir.

Yelena opened the metal door and looked out into a basement corridor full of pipes, fuse boxes and cables. It was illuminated by a pale, yellowish light. All three of them found the place where the wall was weakened in a split second. They seemed to know exactly what they were doing and where to go.

"Smash the wall Barrett," ordered Namir. "Smash it, knock it down, kill it," he said with displeasure. "I'd rather fuck some nice, tight arse. Like that one which the girl with blue hair had." "After all, you didn't like her because she squalled like a butchered hog," Namir reminded. "True, but once she quieted down it was great."

Lawrence clenched his robotic hand into a fist, which he effortlessly turned a piece of concrete into rubble. They passed through a hole from which metal bars protruded, and tight corridors led them further down. Through thick pipes, they climbed higher up to a square ventilation grille. Barrett could barely fit through the rather cramped space and made it almost impossible for them to get out. They found themselves in a storage room with cleaning supplies.

"Subsection six of the labs," Namir said. "We are in place. You know what to do."

They all activated their cloaking systems, then stepped out into the corridor. Yelena moved nimbly on her robotic black limbs, which looked like the legs of a ballerina. They didn't fire a single shot. They were here to settle the matter quietly, hitting a specific target without making a mess. Of course, they couldn't vouch for the Belltower squad or the Whalers, whom they didn't even know and didn't know why they were here.

Sarif Industries Subsection six of the laboratories. 35 minutes past midnight.

"Berlin reports that Delta squad has taken position. We are waiting for further orders," the Belltower mercenary informed through the communicator. "Roger. Do not fire without order. Prague out."

A man in black armour with red elements and a balaclava looked out the door into the corridor as soon as he heard the explosion.

"Fuck, this wasn't in the plan," he cursed under his breath. "Who the fuck is responsible for this mess?!" he yelled through the communicator. "It's none of ours. Maybe the Whalers? Besides, it was nothing big, it looked like some sort of diversion. Berlin out."

A group of people dressed in scientists' uniforms ran out of the room from which the noise came. Several Sarif Industries guards directed them to the emergency exits, but they never reached them. They were killed along the way and it was done quietly.

"Knife of Dunwall reports that the Whalers are already in the labs," said new voice. "Great. Those explosions are you guys?" "Confirmed. Actions necessary during a fire drill. Moving on to the next point of the plan. Starting looking for data." "What about the cameras? I don't want to have all the security on my neck." "We have full control over security. The boys are keeping an eye on everything. Knife of Dunwall out."

Sarif Industries Subsection six of the laboratories. Forty minutes past midnight.

Five people sat on the floor in one of the empty offices. They were all dressed in black pants, tucked into knee-high leather boots, grey shirts and navy blue coats. Their faces were covered by masks resembling those protecting them from gas. Attached to each person's head were two cables. The end of one was in a computer socket, while the other was plugged into a data storage disk. Their eyes blinked with dizzying speed, opening wide after a moment. Then it was possible to see strings of numbers and letters scrolling through them. The Whalers were unaware of what was happening outside. They were locked in a room and had only one goal – find and copy relevant data, then destroy the original one. Their brains scanned through millions of files, filtering them piece by piece. They knew that what they were looking for was in the server room G.

Sarif Industries Subsection six of the laboratories. 45 minutes past midnight.

After the alarm was called off, everyone returned to their tasks. Only a few felt some strange anxiety, but they explained it by nervousness before leaving. In the main hall, they were finishing packing the necessary things and verifying data. The order of speeches and their text were being checked.

"I hope this alarm hasn't disturbed you too much in your preparations?" said Dr. Reed, who was just coming down the wide staircase.

She observed all the research stations full of microscopes, test tubes, containers and boxes. On the walls of the huge room, occupying at least two floors, between which the ceiling had been removed, hung screens with X-ray images. From the shorter sides protruded rooms reaching from the ceiling to halfway up, storing toxic substances.

"Just in time Dr. Reed!" shouted one of the scientists. "We couldn't start without you." "Begin what?" the woman asked in surprise, rolling her eyes at the faces of those gathered. "Celebrations. I know it's still early, but I think a little toast wouldn't hurt." "Out of the question," protested the woman firmly. "We don't drink alcohol before the DC." "It's just a cup of lemonade. Please do not deny us," urged Nia. "All right, but we don't have much time." "In that case, let's drink to the success of our research!" suggested Eric.

Everyone raised their plastic cups in a toast gesture. Megan was about to say a few words at the urging, but was called back to the office. Nia and Eric also left to check carefully if they had done everything they should. The rest decided to spend their free time talking with friends. There were jokes and a huge amount of laughter. Someone climbed up on one of the research stations to make a few more toasts.

The eyes of the five Whalers stopped moving, freezing in a ghastly goggle. Everything they were supposed to get was on a disk lying on the ground, and all of the original data was destroyed. A moment later, the door to the office opened. A man in a red coat, black pants and knee-high boots materialized, then took the disk with him.

"Delilah," he said, and the heads of all five exploded. Immediately the rest of their bodies disintegrated to make identification difficult. "Knife of Dunwall reports that the Rat Plague operation has been successfully completed," he said into the communicator. "Roger. Prague out," he heard in reply, and the connection was cut. "Berlin, begin Operation Harvester." "Yes, sir. Berlin out."

The scientist who had entered the research station was just about to make another toast.

"Let's drink to our friendship and..."

The man didn't have time to finish. He wobbled and fell over onto his back hitting his head against a container made of hard plastic-like material. His body rolled inertly onto the graphite floor. A bullet hole was visible in the middle of his forehead. Someone screamed, someone froze into immobility. Chaos reigned. No one knew what had happened. At first they thought their colleague was joking. Someone brave enough checked the heart rate and shook his head sadly. Soon the room was filled with Belltower mercenaries. They murdered without blinking an eye, without a shadow of mercy they killed those lying down with a shot to the head. They knocked over bottles, threw down equipment, started fires. One of the scientists managed to run to the wall and hit the alarm button. He sank to the ground with his arm outstretched, and the room was filled with red flashing lights and wailing sirens. Soon Belltower had most of the area under control.

The Tyrants after receiving the report about the data takeover, proceeded to destroy everything they could. A symphony of gunfire rang out in the corridors and offices. Fire extinguishers exploded, people screamed, documents burned. Chaos reigned.

Sarif Industries David Sarif's office. Ten minutes to one in the morning.

"You unnecessarily panicked," Sarif complained. "Those are the procedures, boss," replied Adam. "Yes, yes, I know son," he cut the subject, not wanting to hear about the details. "Since everything is in order, we can already fly to Washington." "Let's wait some more..."

Another alarm interrupted their conversation. This time the previous message was joined by another about fires and explosions. Jensen knew that this was not a fire drill. He also knew that Megan was in the labs. Panic paralysed him.

"Can't this day be normal?!" growled David. "Adam, check what happened, maybe it's just some kind of malfunction, a misreading of the situation." "I was just about to do that," he replied, heading for the exit. "Wait. Use my elevator. It will be faster. Do you remember the code?" "0451"

The boss nodded his head. He looked like he wasn't worried or afraid at all. He looked like he was sure that his company was like a fortress that no one could destroy.

Sarif Industries Office of the Head of Cyber Security. Nine minutes to one in the morning.

"Laura, check sectors L1-L4. Connor, you take care of L5-L7, and I'll check the rest," Pritchard ordered.

At the moment there was no time for discussion and argument. The situation looked serious so they had to hurry. They sat down at the computers that stood at the back of the room and tried to figure out what might have happened.

"I don't have access to the cameras in the labs," Connor informed them. "Frank! Someone hacked the cameras in the lobby! We saw a false image the whole time," the woman said. "Fucking hell!" "Connor, let's try to take over at least one camera. We need to know what happened there," Laura said, although deep down she already knew the truth. All she needed was confirmation and she felt it wouldn't make her feel any better.

Together they launched a simultaneous attack, pushing out the enemy hacker.

"Frank, you need to see this," Connor ordered.

The woman was unable to utter a single word. She sat in front of the monitor, covering her mouth with her hand. The frame showed the scientist's body perforated like a sieve. The walls were smeared with blood. Moments later, music flowed from speakers throughout the company.

Boom boom boom boom Gonna shoot you right down Take you in my arms I'm in love with you Love that is true Boom boom boom boom

The message was obvious but only Laura knew it. She felt herself suffocating as if someone had pumped all the air out of the room. In a split second she realized what she had done - she had murdered innocent people. The woman knew Damien was unpredictable, but not to that extent. She herself opened the gate for him, which was a piece of code, the one considered safe, but about which Connor had doubts. She had lied to him. Unknowingly, but she lied.

"Pritchard, where's Megan. Did she report in yet?" Adam's voice spoke through the office speaker. "Her G-P-L implant shows she's moving through micro-chem labs," the Cyber Security Chief replied. "Do you have a camera view?" "No, something from outside is interfering with it. Laura and Connor managed to take over one of them but not for long. We saw a dead scientist. It's not good, Jensen. You need to hurry up."

Sarif Industries Subsection six of the laboratories. One o'clock at night.

Adam was somewhat reassured by the news that Laura was safe. This allowed him to focus on his task. During the elevator ride, he checked the cylinder of his Colt. He involuntarily clenched his hand on the grip so tightly that it went numb. Subsection six greeted him with the stench of burning, gunpowder and spilled chemicals. Most of the rooms along the corridor he patrolled stood in flames. Scattered pieces of paper, containers and destroyed doors lay on the ground. Glass crunched under the soles of his shoes as he walked forward. His hearing was sensitive to every sound. Fluorescent lights and severed cables dangled from the ceiling, hissing and crackling in an abrupt manner. Jensen crouched by the man's corpse he encountered, turning it over on its back. In addition to multiple bullet wounds on his torso, he found one on his forehead. Such methods of execution were used by mercenaries or special units. There were many of both so he couldn't clearly pinpoint the perpetrator. He needed more clues. When he stood up and looked in front of him for a split second he had a feeling as if space had curved. It seemed to him that he saw someone. Shaking his head, he looked again. This time the corridor was completely normal so he decided that it was just an illusion. He should hurry, but in addition to finding Megan, he also wanted to know the culprit. The leg spoke up at the worst possible moment. The Security Chief opened the Vicodin package tossing the pills onto his palm. There were only three left. It had to be enough. He took one and moved on.

"Help! I'm begging! Is there anybody out here?!" he suddenly heard a call so he quickened his pace.

The corridor turned right and continued straight ahead, but the way was blocked by a bulkhead. A scientist standing on the other side was pounding his fists on the thick glass, which showed bullet marks.

"Please help me. This is a slaughterhouse. They're all dead!" he yelled, and panic burned in his eyes. "You'll be free in no time," he assured, though it was insincere.

Adam pressed the button on the wall responsible for lifting the partition, but he knew perfectly well that it would do nothing. He tried to call for help through the communicator he had in his ear but no one responded.

"I don't want to..."

Another body slumped to the ground. Adam spotted a man. Unnaturally massive, but he disappeared too quickly. He wade further ahead, trying to call Pritchard, but the communication was broken.

"I figured you'd need a solid dose of sweetness, so I ordered them right after you left," he said. "You always think of everything," Laura said, sitting down on a sofa upholstered in brown linen.

The woman set her mug and croissant plate on the coffee table. She took a laptop out of her backpack, placed it next to the mug and turned it on. Connor took his computer, and then took a seat next to Laura.

"Not all people think only of themselves. Besides, I know Pritchard can be an arse most of the time." "It's not because of him," she muttered, trying to log into her account.

Connor had expected such an answer. Frank never made her feel that way. It was always a short-lived anger that passed on its own. This time she was stuck in some strange state that was hard to describe. She looked sad, angry and lost. He watched her making a mistake every time she tried entering her password. He surmised who was to blame but preferred not to ask.

"I met Adam. He yelled at me because he's jealous of you and still thinks I should stay away," she sighed. "I've had enough of that." "You shouldn't be venting your anger. You're both stressed about Washington. When you return, try to talk to him and explain everything." "Why should I..." "See, you're doing it again. You are floating with pride. Why you? Because you are more reasonable and mature. That's the overtone this move will have." "You're right," she sighed. "As usual." "I don't mean to be right. I'm just trying to suggest a solution." "We'd better get on with what's important first. We don't have much time, and I haven't even packed my suitcase."

Connor nodded in agreement. He momentarily dropped the topic he had started and turned on his laptop. Laura still couldn't log in to her company account, so without asking Pritchard, he restored her old privileges. For several hours they checked the company's security code, applying fixes in some places.

"Look, this part is kind of weird," the man remarked.

Laura stretched and yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. "Yes, because this is a rarely used form of coding. Few people know about it," she explained.

"I think it can be left that way. Anything that's not obvious can be helpful," the man shrugged.

Connor wasn't entirely sure of this decision, but he trusted Laura. The clock on the computer announced it was lunchtime so, after much protest, he managed to persuade the hacker that they should eat something and rest. Although the Camarilla Club was further away than The Jackdaw, they went right there. It would be better to avoid another meeting with Adam.

Sarif Industries. The Jackdaw.

Jensen spent all his time in the office reviewing the backlog of cases and accepting new ones. On top of all that, he still had to give orders before leaving. He felt like the stack of files wasn't diminishing at all, and his eyes were starting to sting from looking at the computer screen. Pushing off lightly with his heels, he moved along with the armchair almost under the cabinet leaning against the back wall. Lighting a cigarette, he stood up and with a determined step paced the distance separating him from the door. Faridah was his only hope for at least temporary salvation. Of course, he reckoned she might ask about Laura, but if he had to be honest, he needed this conversation. The crowd in the corridor was still large, so it took him longer than he thought to reach Malik's office. With a quiet knock on the glass door, he pulled the woman away from her work.

"No, thank you. We don't want any more visitors, well-wishers, or distant relations!"

He heard her disgruntled voice, but that didn't deter him at all. "How about a very old friend?" he asked, swinging the door open.

"Adam? What are you doing here?" she asked surprised, furrowing her brow. "I came to take you for lunch. Don't refuse, I'm tired of paperwork. Because of this Washington thing, the whole company is standing on its head, and Pritchard seems to feel like a boss," he sighed, finishing smoking a cigarette. "All in all, why not? I've been hanging around here all morning with no visible chance of a break," she said, saving what she had managed to do so far and turning off the computer. "We'll pick up Laura on the way, too, won't we?" Jensen twitched nervously, hearing her suggestion. "No," he replied reluctantly. "I'd like to talk to you." "A-ha. This tone of yours means it's something serious," she muttered, dressing her orange jacket over a black wool turtleneck.

Fortunately, the euphoria was slowly coming to an end and the people heretofore crowded like ants in an anthill had managed to disperse so the way to the exit was less troublesome.

On the street, they inhaled the frosty air and went straight to The Jackdaw. Although he had said earlier they would not take Laura, he silently hoped for the opposite course of events. As usual, they were greeted by the bartender and took their favourite corner seat. Malik ordered a Tortuga Soup, as did Adam, and a salmon filet in puff pastry. The Head of Security chose the rare steak.

"What did you want to talk about? How's your leg, anyway?" "My leg, it's fine," he lied, because he still had a lot of trouble with walking, and against the doctor’s advice he didn't want to use a cane. Adam was killing constant pain by taking more Vicodin than he should. "It's all about Laura. I have a feeling that we're starting to distance ourselves from each other again," he said quietly as if he wanted Faridah not to hear it. "I'll say frankly I find it hardly surprising. Joe was her friend. Probably the only one she had at the time." "Faridah," he interrupted her in a rough tone. "I think it's more than just a friendship. Maybe I'm exaggerating, but my gut tells me I'm right." "Talk to her. Lately, the conversations have been coming out better and better for you. Didn’t they?" she suggested while sipping green tea. "Not really," the man muttered, sighing deeply at the same time. "Has Laura done something wrong again?" "This time the fault lies with me," he admitted openly. "After our week together Laura was supposed to move in to my place but apparently Rupert said something that influenced her to change the decision. I accepted it. I thought she needed a moment alone after what happened. Meanwhile, she kept meeting Connor, despite my warnings." "Wait a minute, because I don't think I understand it correctly. Are you jealous? You?" she said surprised. "I'm not!" he protested. "Connor's files were not in the database. They appeared there suddenly, right after I discovered their absence. I'm sure of it. I told her about it, but she didn't believe it. I did it out of concern, and Laura ignored it. During that week, I haven't heard from her at all." "Adam, I know how you feel but she doesn't know it. When you return from Washington, you will explain everything. And stop being so suspicious because she will think you are controlling her and the effect will be even worse."

The Security Chief slowly nodded, after which they both busied themselves with their meal.

Camarilla Club. Sarif Industries. Laura's apartment.

"He wants to control me!" growled the hacker, stabbing a piece of apple pie with her fork. "He thinks he can dictate what I can do and with whom I can meet." "Hey, hey, slow down. Adam is not like that. Although I don't know him that well I think he's more the type of person who protects rather than imposes his own will." "Are you suggesting I'm misjudging his intentions?"

"I think so," he risked exposing himself to her fury.

Laura closed her eyes, looking down at her cup of earl grey tea. "Maybe you're right," she admitted.

Connor was surprised by her reaction. However, he couldn't tell if it was a sign of a mature approach or if the hacker had just given up.They finished their dessert in silence and then returned to the company. Adam was not around so they avoided another confrontation. For the rest of the time, they finished the security check and wrote a report.

"I didn't even ask him how he was feeling," she said quietly, putting on her jacket. "You can always call or visit him at home."

The woman nodded and left. Being in the lobby, she noticed the Security Chief's office was dark. It didn't look like he had lowered the blinds so he must have already left the company. Enriched with this information, she returned home.

Laura stood on the sidewalk for a quarter of an hour with the Chiron apartment building in front of her. She lacked the courage to go inside, and when she finally gathered it, she couldn't put together in her head what she wanted to say. She stepped into the elevator, and her fear grew as she approached her destination.

"Good evening Mr Jensen. Sorry to disturb you..." she repeated quietly.

Her finger trembled but she managed to control herself and pressed the bell. Silence answered her so she repeated the action two more times. Adam wasn't home, or he didn't want to see her. She sighed straight at the closed door and took the elevator down to the first floor. With a quick pace, she crossed the road and in a split second, she was at her door. She took off her shoes, jacket and hat, then yelled at Stalker just because he came to greet her. From the living room window, she saw that the blinds were down in Adam's apartment. She didn't have the strength to speculate. She packed the most necessary clothes in her suitcase and her laptop along with two phones in her backpack. She took a quick shower, fed the cat, and then went to bed even though it was only seven in the evening.

Confusion will be my epitaph As I crawl a cracked and broken path If we make it we can all sit back and laugh But I fear tomorrow I'll be crying Yes, I fear tomorrow I'll be crying Yes, I fear tomorrow I'll be crying

Crying Crying Yes, I fear tomorrow I'll be crying Yes, I fear tomorrow I'll be crying Yes, I fear tomorrow I'll be crying Crying

One day before leaving for Washington. Laura's apartment. 6:15 a.m.

The sound of the ringing alarm clock made her furious. She didn't feel like getting up. While still in her pyjamas, with her hair tousled, she went to the kitchen and forced herself to eat at least a few spoonfuls of cereal. The next sound that disturbed her was the doorbell. The woman furrowed her eyebrows, surprised that someone was visiting at six in the morning. The hope that it was Adam was extinguished as soon as she opened the door.

"Good morning! Ready for the big day?" "Connor, it's you," she muttered without enthusiasm. "Come in." "Oh no, my dear. That's not a way to start the day," he protested, setting down his bag and backpack in the hall. "I went to see Adam yesterday, but he wasn't there. Or he's avoiding me." "Today you will definitely meet," he assured, but Laura was closer to tears than joy so he gave her a friendly hug. "I know you won't listen anyway, but your attitude is also important in achieving success." "A-ha." "Get dressed, because we don't have much time," he urged.

When the woman went to get dressed, Connor fed the cat again. No doubt they had a good relationship with each other. She returned a quarter of an hour later, reluctantly put on her shoes, jacket and hat, then left dragging her suitcase behind her as if she were going to a beheading. The man was clearly amused but made a serious face whenever she looked at him.

"Don't worry," he broke the silence, recognizing it was taking too long. "We'll fly there together. It's already been decided. Adam is flying with Megan and Faridah. Sarif has a separate flight."

When they stepped out onto the street, Laura reflexively looked up at the Chiron building. It was dark at Adam's place, so he is definitely already in the company.

Sarif Industries. 7:20 am.

Laura was sick of hearing about Washington, D.C. Nearly everyone they passed on the way to the office talked only about it. Some were excited because they would get the honour of being there, while others regretted it. The hacker really wanted to approach one of these people and tell them to fly instead, but Connor kept her close. Right after she left her suitcase, Francis called. They had to show him the report and assure him everything was fine. In fact, he envied them this trip.

Connor was more patient during the visit with the boss. While waiting to hear what Pritchard would say, he stared dispassionately at the wall. The hacker nervously stomped her shoe on the floor with what apparently annoyed Frank, because the latter wriggled in his chair.

"This looks pretty good," muttered Frank looking at the computer screen.

Connor and Laura were happy to be about to leave the daunting place, but their joy was premature.

"There's a mistake here. Another one here. You must correct it immediately. Then we'll check everything in practice, and then we'll see." "We don't have time for that," protested the hacker. "Remember that you are here only because Adam helped you. I won't be so kind, and if necessary I'll kick your sorry arse from one end of the company to the other."

Grabbing Laura’s hand, Connor signalled her to let go.

"Okay, we'll correct that right away," she replied reluctantly, yielding. "You still have to go to server room G. There's something strange going on there, so you'll plug in the computer and check the drives. One of them is malfunctioning, but from here I can't tell which one. It looks like it was heavily used by someone recently." "Maybe someone from Dr Reed’s team is copying the test results?" suggested Connor. "Possibly, but we need to be sure."

They both left Frank's office in wicked moods. They had hoped he wouldn't be so demanding today, but he was clearly jealous of their departure.

"We won't make it in time with everything," the woman complained.

The man looked at his watch. "We still have plenty of time before departure. If we hurry, we can make it."

Again, that calmness of his was infecting her as well. Thanks to the RK800 agility, they quickly reached his office.

"This morning you said we didn't have much time," she noted. "I said so because you would go back to sleep. We fly late in the evening or even at night. The whole puppet theatre doesn't start until tomorrow, but I don't know what time. Everything is top secret." "Great," she sighed. "We'd better fix what Frank ordered because he won't give up. Do you still have no doubts about that line of code I showed you?" "No, I don't. I'm sure it's correct. But I am puzzled why Frank has doubts about something we don’t." "You're kidding. You've known him longer than I have, so you should know he wants to keep us busy with something by force. He can't stand the fact that he won't always be a star of the show." "I think you're right. Let's leave it as it is and check what's going on in the server room. I've got bad feelings about this." "Come on, it's probably another Pritchard paranoia. At worst, the drive is breaking down, or the power cable has come loose," he tried to reassure her. "Let's hope you're right," she replied, zipping up the backpack into which she had stowed the laptop."

Connor took the necessary things, then they left the office and after a while took the elevator down to the underground, where the servers were located. The hall was huge, divided into sectors separated by glass walls. It took them quite a while to find sector G. They were even about to give up, but Connor saw a large letter taped on the door.

"This is here. I hope Pritchard isn't wasting our time."

Hundreds of LEDs flashed green and blue, like Christmas tree lights, all over the rectangular structure made up of disks. Cooling fans hummed loudly and unbearably. Laura first looked at everything carefully but didn't notice anything strange. Only after a while did one of the LEDs turn red.

"Connor, I found it," she called out. "We need to isolate it," he suggested. "That may not be necessary," she replied, pulling the disk from the rail on which it lay. "The cable has come loose, that's probably the cause. We'll check it anyway just to be sure the wire is the only problem here."

While the hacker dealt with the faulty disk, Connor decided to check the rest as well. If any of them are infected the entire sector will have to be cut off. He really wished it wasn't because he had planned to take Laura to lunch at Camarilla but fate had other plans.

"Unfortunately, I have bad news. The situation is more serious." "I beg you, don't tell me we're going to sit here longer than we intended," she said. "The disks are infected. Apparently, someone in the company forgot the security rules or the worms were smarter than our antiviruses. We need to secure the sector." "And check the data piece by piece. Later, isolate the defective fragments, move them to quarantine and see if they can be salvaged. Great!" "We'll do as much as we can. The rest must be handled by Frank."

The hacker prepared a laptop and her phone for special tasks, while RK800 pulled out and booted up his laptop. Later, they divided the work into several stages. They started by scanning everything, piece by piece, with HAL 9000 helping them a lot. Laura was unsure about showing the phone so openly, but in the end, she trusted Connor. Isolating and trying to repair the infected pieces proved to be the most time-consuming. The hacker didn't know how much time had passed since they got here, or even what time it was when they left the office. She could have checked it on her laptop or phone, but that didn't occur to her either. She was hungry and monstrously tired.

"Another hour and we're out of here. We'll have some time left to drink coffee." "Some time? You mean what time is it exactly?" "Half an hour left until 9 pm." "You're kidding! We're sitting here all day?!" she yelled, and her voice echoed. "I'm going to murder Pritchard." "You can start scanning. This will go fast."

An hour later they were back in the corridor with the elevator. Unfortunately, too many people were using it today, so Connor suggested they take the fire escape stairs and try another floor.

Sarif Industries. Labs. 10:35 pm.

Adam was sitting in an armchair and had been having a conversation that he thought was going nowhere for a long time. From time to time he glanced at Megan sitting on the sofa and at how she was nervously playing with a pearl necklace loosely hanging around her neck. The room was full of screens with diagrams and models of prosthetic arms, glowing with a bright blue light.

"Major, I expect the entire area of the Conference Center to be covered by at least two groups of people," the Security Chief insisted. "I've already said we won't enter with the others through the main entrance, because the security will be hindered," his voice was increasingly exasperated. "Yes, that's what I meant. I'm glad you understand. Goodnight," Adam ended the call and tossed the phone back on the desk. "Idiot," he muttered.

He looked again at Dr Reed, who had turned off the news transmitted live from Picus by Eliza Cassan.

"If you keep pulling that necklace, Dr Reed, you'll tear it," he tried to joke.

The effect was different than expected so he stood up and walked over to the woman, who was now standing facing the large screen that had previously displayed the news.

"You'll be fine. After all, this isn't the first time you've had to defend your research," he assured, placing his hands on her shoulders.

The grey material from which the fancy tunic was sewn was slippery and cool to the touch. For a moment he wanted very much to kiss the side of her neck but, apart from the high collar, he was stopped by the thought that, after all, Laura was still present in his life.

"Previously there was only a theory. Now it is different. This new discovery is something big. Kepler big. Rosetta stone big." "Forgive me, but I still don't see where the problem is." "They will want to know the details. To know how I came to it." "So..." "Megan, we're leaving for Washington in two hours," they were interrupted by a video call from Sarif which appeared on a screen. "Good evening, boss." "Adam, you're there too. Good, because I'd like to review the security plans one more time." "Of course, boss."

David nodded. "Megan are you and your team ready yet?"

"Almost. We still have to check the data," she replied, avoiding looking at the screen. "Hurry up. If you want to shine and dumbfound these smart arses, everything has to be perfect." "I hate it when he does that," she sighed when Sarif had already hung up. "Come on, I'll walk you part way."

They both walked out of the office into the corridor and then cut through one of the laboratories where the scientists were collecting and checking all the data. Megan was stopped several times and had to clarify any doubts with team members. On the way, they met General O'Neill, interested in the Typhoon prototype, but Dr Reed avoided the conversation, leaving it to Vasili.

"Adam, you can't be so closed to modern technology. This is our future," she tried to convince him. "Teachers certainly dream of using Typhoon during lessons at school," he replied with sarcasm. "That's not the point. Contracts with the military provide us with the money with which we exist and can expand the company. Neuroimplants are something else, they help people. They improve their reflexes, improve their thinking. David has been talking about this for a long time. He's a good man, and I know you like him." "Mhm, just like everyone else," replied the Security Chief reluctantly.

Megan did not respond. She was interrupted by the elevator doors opening.

"Where are you going?" "To Diane's office. I have to leave her the keys to take care of Kubrick. He's not so little anymore. He knocks over all the flower pots." "He broke a vase yet?"

The woman shook her head negatively. "I moved it and made a fence. The one you were supposed to make yourself."

"I'm sorry it turned out that way," the man admitted regretfully. "Me too...And not only because of that. Adam...I...I have to tell you something..."

The elevator unexpectedly stopped. They heard laughter.

"We made it at the last minute," Connor said. "I told you not to take the damn stairs," growled Laura at him. She already wanted to get into the elevator but saw Adam and stepped back. "We'll wait for the next one." "Nonsense," RK800 replied and pushed her inside.

The hacker felt herself getting hot, Jensen feigned cold indifference, Megan looked depressed, and Connor whistled under his breath.

"This is my floor," muttered Dr Reed. "Faridah is already here. We should hurry up," she added and left.

Laura felt her hand go numb from holding tightly her backpack. Fortunately, they got off at the next floor leaving Adam alone.

Sarif Industries. David Sarif's office. 11:15 pm.

Jensen got off the elevator and, trying not to limp, approached the reception desk behind which Athene was sitting. Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long for entering the office. Good thing he just happened to have the documents he needed with him.

"Adam, son!" he was greeted by Sarif's cheerful voice. "How are the moods? Everything ready? Tomorrow's the big day." "Yes, boss. I brought everything regarding security," he informed, handing over a file. "The Capitol Police will secure the whole area, and as soon as we leave VTOL, the Federal Protection Service will take over." "Great, great. And our star?" "She's terribly nervous." "Nonsense. She'll just show them her research, and that's all," Sarif said tossing his favourite baseball. "Did she tell you about them?” "Yes," nodded the Security Chief. "But I don't understand much of it." "Purists accuse us of disrupting the natural order of things," snarled the boss. "Megan merely exploited our DNA. She unleashed the dormant power within it. That's something better than Darrow did."

Sarif Industries. Francis Pritchard's office. 11:50 pm.

"I see you've already returned. Somehow you were in no hurry," Pritchard complained. "Sector G was infected with the virus. We had to isolate particular pieces of data and recover what we could," Connor explained. "Give you a simple task, and you're about to screw something up."

Laura wanted to say something, but RK800 stopped her.

"Probably someone didn't follow the rules. Even if we had a list of authorized people, we won't be able to find out who it was." "Holy shit. Why does everything have to go to hell just today?" growled Frank. "Anyway, we need to check the security systems. I'll raise the alarm right away," he announced and, without waiting for their response, carried out his plan.

Sarif Industries David Sarif's office. The 0 hour.

The screen in Sarif's office, which had previously displayed a broadcast of a baseball game, now showed a map of the laboratories highlighted in red. An alarm vibrating in their ears sounded, and a robotic, female voice repeated in a loop: Environmental malfunction, laboratory sub-section six. All lab chiefs, please report in.

Knowledge is a deadly friend If no one sets the rules The fate of all mankind I see Is in the hands of fools

Laura took a few breaths, but thoughts of Joe losing everything because of her were still swirling around in her head.

"I asked Toby to send you here. It was part of a plan that didn't quite go as it should," the man sat down next to her on the sofa. "I wanted to surprise you," he said. "So there are no special guests?" "No." The man shook his head negatively. "It's just me. Everything is under control so don't worry anymore." "Then why don't we start again?" she suggested, and before he had time to answer, she was already out the door. "Crazy girl," he muttered laughing, but he let her repeat everything over again so he took his place.

"I'm going in, and then you..." he heard her voice.

The man slowly turned around, and the dim light gradually brightened, illuminating his face. "You can see that in this establishment they take care well of the guests."

"Joe? What are you doing here?" she asked, feigning surprise.

The man couldn't stand it and laugh. "It will be better if we skip the introduction. Aren't you curious about what's next?" he asked, walking up to the girl and embracing her around the waist.

"Not a bit," she muttered. "As you wish," he replied, withdrawing his arms. "Wait," she stopped him and placed the man's hands where they were. "However, I am curious."

Navras smiled, then walked over to the dresser. From one of its drawers, he took out two rectangular boxes wrapped in blue paper and tied with a purple ribbon. One of them was flatter and larger.

"This is for you," he said, handing her a gift. "For me? But…" "There are no 'Buts' today," he murmured, placing his finger on her lips. "I'd like to spend Christmas with you and make it special. As special as you are."

The girl blushed. She sat on the sofa holding the boxes in her lap. She put the smaller one aside and unwrapped the larger one. Then carefully unwrapped the thin paper to reveal a delicate fabric in a sea blue shade.

"Joe...This is…" "Silk. Don't you like it? I can…" "It's gorgeous, but it must have cost a fortune." "It's unimportant. Let me lay the world at your feet for once. No protests or guilt."

Laura nodded. "I'll go get dressed. Give me a moment."

"Take your time. We have plenty of it," he said turning away. "You can watch. After all…" "Today you are a lady. There will be time for the rest."

Don't let yourself be hurt this time. Don't let yourself be hurt this time.

The dress had no back, was tied at the neck and consisted of three layers. The sea-blue one reached just a little before the knee, the middle one with a violet hue ended behind the knee, and the last one, sky-blue, ended at mid-calf. Laura tied her hair up in a low bun, but due to it wasn't as perfect as she wanted. She fastened the sandals that were in the second box around her ankles. They had a heel but fortunately not very high.

"How do I look?" she asked, drawing attention to herself. "You look phenomenal," he admitted. "But one little detail is missing." "What detail?" she said surprised.

Navras came closer and pinned a pin with a purple orchid in her hair. "This detail," he murmured, kissing her on the forehead. "You must be hungry?"

"Not at all," she denied, but a quiet rumbling in her stomach immediately exposed the lie.

Joe pressed the button calling the waiter and after less than a quarter of an hour, fried carp with bread, cabbage with mushrooms and a tureen full of borscht appeared on the table. Laura had no idea how Joe knew how much she liked carp and borscht, but it didn't matter. The man, sitting at the shorter side of the table, watched her all the while. He looked like he wanted to ask something but didn't have enough courage.

"The food is delicious," she admitted. "You hired a good cook."

Joe smiled slightly, still unable to say what he wanted to.

Then I saw your face Then I saw your smile

"Is something wrong? The girl asked with concern. "I'm the one who prepared tonight's dinner," Navras finally managed to squeeze the words through his throat.

Laura didn't know what to say at first, so she took advantage of the fact that she was sitting close to him and placed her hand on his palm.

"I'm not going to say how wonderful you are because I know how you don't like it. But you made this Christmas magical and special. Not because of the gifts but because we can spend it together."

Navras leaned over and kissed her long but softly. "You are my light in the darkness, little Orchid."

The sky is still blue The clouds come and go Yet something is different Are we falling in love?

Don't let yourself be hurt this time. Don't let yourself be hurt this time.

Then your kiss so soft Then your touch so warm

Laura saw Joe for the first time so vulnerable and intimidated, like a teenager who had never been with a girl. She wasn't any better herself, because although there were many boyfriends in her miserable life, none were really the one. Each of them was just for earning some money. Navras is handsome, which she could not deny, but she valued his character more. Though often rough, firm and brutally honest, she knew he was doing it for her good and would never hurt her. It didn't bother her he was something like eight years older. Age is just numbers. However, Laura still carried the fear she would do something wrong.

"Will you dance with me?" he asked. "I can't remember the last time I danced," she tried to tell him “no”. "I know you can do it. And if you lack confidence, just let yourself be led," he encouraged and extended his hand to her.

The sky is still blue The clouds come and go Yet something is different Are we falling in love?

A dancer who can't dance, what a tragic irony. After the accident, along with her leg, the girl also lost her self-confidence. She didn't trust the prosthesis one bit, and treated it like an enemy kept close according to the saying “Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer.” Maybe this is the moment to take that step and move forward? The girl smiled, gently grasped Joe’s hand and stood up. Again the air was filled with the oriental-spicy scent of his perfume water. As usual, ginger was dominant in it. She knew this was not going to be the usual slow dance with cuddling that dominates at discos. Navras decided to be a gentleman or simply wanted to test her. She didn't consider the third option, that he was trying to rebuild her confidence. Slowly and patiently like a parent teaching a child to walk. He wrapped his arms around her waist gently without the pushy groping. She, in turn, placed her hand on his left shoulder and let her right hand close in a confident yet not a firm grasp of his robotic, dark purple hand. He guided her with such skill that her mind was immediately filled with questions about where he learned to dance like this. Laura figured that since he opens the evenings at Lemon-Lime that's where he got his skills from. She wanted to hug him so badly, but he kept her at a distance while dancing.

As much as she wanted to, she couldn't lie and deliberately make errors in steps. Besides, after all, he knew she was a ballerina. He knew more about her than she knew about him. Joe didn't mention much about his life, and she didn't ask. Sometimes she felt surrounded by secrets, lots of doors to which lock she didn't have a key. Or wandered in a maze with no way out. All she knew was he had lost someone close to him.

Suddenly she felt him embrace her more tightly around the waist, pulling her close. His cheek touched her temple. She wanted to look at his face, but he wouldn't let her.

"Her name was Emily," Joe said with difficulty. "We were planning to get married. She was..." his voice faltered.

Laura felt Joe trembles and then fights with himself because, after all, he must be strong. A real man doesn't know what tears are. At that very moment, she got an unequivocal answer. Cybernetic eyes can cry.

"She was pregnant. They stabbed her in the stomach. Neither she nor the baby could be saved. I have been seeking my revenge ever since."

The girl felt helpless. No words were appropriate so she remained silent. She let him speak.

"I'm sorry. This was supposed to be our evening, but this time I ruined everything," he said reproachfully.

He wanted to move away, to flee, but Laura sensed his intentions and embraced him as tightly as she could. "I won't let you just run away now," she said.

"Let me go," he said with exasperation in his voice. "We'll get through this together. Slowly, step by step, but together. Like friends, if that's what you prefer." "I love you," he muttered hugging her. "I know."

Falling Falling Are we falling in love?

Joe marvelled that Laura at only sixteen could be so mature. At times she was more rational than he was.

"Don't give in to the world, Evie. Never. Always be yourself. Whatever happens, be strong."

His words sounded like an attempt to prepare her for something that might happen in the near future. Something only Joe knew about and he didn't want to drag her into his dark world.

Camarilla Club.

"Let me take it," he said, taking her cup of under-drank tea. "It went cold a long time ago. I'll brew a new one." "I should get back to my place. I have to be at the company tomorrow," she tried to explain. "Nonsense. You shouldn't be alone now. You can stay here, there are a few rooms for guests at Camarilla. Not many, but they are currently vacant. If you prefer we can go to my place or I'll drop in on you." "Connor…" "Don't Connor me." "Stalker was left alone, besides, I don't have clothes for tomorrow." "We'll get up early, eat something and go to your place."

The man had a ready answer for everything. She had to give in. On the other hand, he was right, she needed company. Joe's death made her acutely aware of how much she had lost, and Adam's inability to fill that void.

Connor took care of her as best he could. He gave her one of his shirts so she would have something to sleep in and led her to the best room. Laura only now had time to reflect on the day's events. As she took a hot shower, she realized Connor had heard her real name, but he didn't react with even the slightest twitch of an eyelid. Maybe he thought Joe had called her like that? Or he just didn't pay attention. The last possibility scared her to the marrow. Adam may have been right to say that Connor was suspicious. The spectre of Damien is still present, perhaps in the person of someone pretending to be a friend.

The owner of the club came to say goodnight to her and brought a mug of milk with honey instead of tea. He tried reading from her reaction whether she noticed with what indifference he treated the fact that she had used the name "Evie" in front of him. Unfortunately, even if she noticed, she remained unmoved. The mistakes he began to make could cost him a great deal. As soon as he stepped out into the hallway, he reached for his phone in his pants pocket and typed a message.

I have my eye on her. Everything is going according to plan. C.

She didn't know whether she should drink the milk or pour it down the sink. She was monstrously stupid eating and drinking anything. Now she is like a deer that has become separated from the herd. There is no Adam or Joe by her side. She should get out of here immediately. Reason told her that there were already so many opportunities to kidnap her, and he didn't take any of them. Maybe he wanted to lull her vigilance? She reflexively took a sip from her mug. The milk was so terribly good that she drank it in one gulp. Laura went to bed where she almost immediately fell asleep.

She saw herself wandering around the Camarilla Club, looking for an escape route, but the corridors wriggled like snakes. Whenever she reached a door, opened it and stepped into the bright, blinding light, it occurred to her that she was at the starting point, and her escape would begin again. After several attempts, she wanted to press the handle one last time but heard Connor's ghostly voice.

"Evie? Where are you, Evie?"

The woman ran to the nearest door and opened it. She found herself in a room with a fireplace, the one she knew well. There was no more time to look for another hiding place, so she crouched behind the armchair placed near the table on which stood a bottle of True Blood brand whisky.

"You won't hide from me!" the voice intensified until finally, the door opened.

Until the last second she hoped he wouldn't notice her, but that didn't happen.

"This is where you hid," he laughed ominously, peeking over the armchair. "I'm sorry, but we have to go now. Kratos is going to be angry."

Connor unrolled on the floor red carpet with the gold crest of the Ventrue clan. Laura wanted to run away, to try to fight but couldn't move.

"You're silly and naive. I added a substance, inducing temporary paralysis, to the milk."

The man easily picked her up, arranged on the edge of the carpet and wrapped her up. When finished he took Laura on his shoulder and whistling paced the hallway, which was now all red.

"Fire walk with me," he repeated quietly, heading toward the exit. "We're going home, Evie."

They disappeared into the bright light as Connor opened the same door she had tried to escape through.

The woman woke up screaming. In a split second Connor rushed into her room like a hurricane.

"Laura? What happened?" he wanted to come closer, but she stopped him. "Stay where you are! Not a step! You won't wrap me up in this carpet!"

The man furrowed his brows, looking at the rolled-up object held under his hand. "What carpet? What are you talking about?"

"The one you're holding!" she pointed with her finger.

Connor laughed. "Silly one. This is a quilt. I remembered that the other rooms didn't have bedding, so I had to bring one for myself. I don't know what you dreamed about, but it must have been a pretty good dream."

The hacker sighed, and calmed down but only a little. RK800 insisted, so she told him her dream, which caused him to have an attack of laughter and her to be furious.

"You really thought I was going to walk out, with you tossed over my shoulder, into the hallway, saying: "Fire walk with me"?"

The man could not resist laughter.

"Stop it!" she growled, jabbing him in the side with her finger. "Well, I won't anymore." "What time is it?" she asked, rubbing her eyes. "It's getting to midnight, try to get some sleep. If something happens, I'll be next door."

Two days before leaving for Washington.

"Get up, sleepyhead, it's past six in the morning."

Connor's voice woke her up, but she didn't want to get up at all. "Five more minutes," she muttered.

"Not a minute longer," he said firmly and pulled the quilt off her. "You're worse than Stalker."

The man waited for her in the corridor, strolling back and forth. Surprisingly she was ready faster than he assumed so they went downstairs to the main hall. Laura was almost at the exit when he stopped her.

"And where are you going?" "You said we were going to my place. I need to change and pick up a few things," she said surprised. "We'll eat something first," he suggested, grabbing her hand. "Come on. If you won't like it, I'll buy you a dinner where you want." "All right."

Connor led her to one of the round wooden tables and pushed back a chair upholstered in red velvet.

"Be my guest," he said with feigned elegance.

After a moment, a waitress in a black shirt and red pencil skirt, over which an equally red apron with the Camarilla logo was wrapped, approached them.

"It is an absolutely beautiful morning," the man turned to her. "Yes, for the winter season," she admitted. "Trudy, two coffees, please. And griddlecakes, melted butter, maple syrup, lightly heated, slice of ham. For two. " "Already serving," she replied and left.

Unlike Laura, she was not at all surprised by this bizarre combination of flavours.

"Nothing beats the taste sensation when maple syrup collides with ham," Connor assured her. "Griddlecakes, slice of ham," he repeated dreamily.

Laura soon found out that this odd meal in fact tasted quite good so she ate it all. Connor gave his final instructions before leaving. In the woman's opinion, he was very good at managing the club. He was firm when necessary, but politeness prevailed in his dealings with the staff. He carefully reviewed order lists, sometimes even suggesting a change of supplier. Finally, he zipped up a black, down jacket with a bright blue band on the right bicep and a triangle of the same colour placed on the chest on the left side.

"I'm sorry you had to wait," he said, putting on a black cotton cap. "That's all right. I'm used to it, after all, Joe had a club too."

Detroit Sarif Industries.

The snow was falling very thick today and wasn't going to stop at all. After a quarter of an hour, spent on fast walking, they were at Laura's house. Stalker jumped on the sideboard and from it onto Connor's shoulder. The woman first packed her laptop, along with not-so-legal special tasks phone into the backpack. Then went to change into a navy blue Scandinavian-style wool sweater that reached her mid-thigh and jeans. Connor fed the cat while she tied her boots.

There was tremendous excitement in the company before the event, but neither Laura nor Connor seemed to care. They pushed their way through the thickening crowd toward the stairs and then down the corridor to the left trying to reach the man's office. They didn't even know Adam had followed them and even called out to Laura.

The hacker would have preferred them to work at her place but now Connor had all the necessary files and permits.

"I should go to Pritchard," she said with great reluctance and hung her jacket on a hanger. "Go, because he'll be even angrier if you avoid him. I'll brew us some coffee."

Almost as soon as she left, she ran into Jensen, who had suddenly sprung up in front of her. She felt her whole body paralyse with fear.

"To my office," he growled. "But…" "Immediately, Miss Werner."

That tone of voice did not bode well. She should have talked to him earlier. That was surely the point. She was in a no-win situation, so she had to go with Adam. No excuses about Pritchard would help.

"You stayed silent the whole damn week," he said with a mixture of reproach and anger in his voice. "I told you I wanted to be alone." "Alone, not with Connor," he emphasized his name. "Ah, so that's the point. You're just simply jealous!" "I'm not a teenager to be jealous about some idiot!" "If that was true, this conversation wouldn't happen." "I warned you that he was suspicious and could be dangerous. Since you know better than I do, from now on you can handle yourself." "I'd love to, Mr Jensen!" she growled and left, slamming the door behind her.

Adam lit a cigarette. He didn't want to be like this, but Laura had acted irresponsibly, and his patience had run out. Joe, whom he didn't even know, intruded on their peace and shattered it in the end. On top of that, there was Connor, who had already become someone he could call a friend. But suddenly he showed his real face. Maybe going to Washington will change things, but Megan's presence will be difficult for both of them.

Shaking her whole body turned out to be something that helped Laura decide to open her eyes after all. The blurry image slowly formed a coherent whole. The woman came to her senses in a split second and with a sudden movement slid towards the wall. When her back touched it, she knew there was nowhere to run so she tried to find something heavy enough to hit the intruder.

"Calm down! It's me, Connor," he said while holding a handkerchief under his nose.

The woman blinked her eyes. "Connor? What are you doing here? How did you get in here?" she inquired a bit more calmly.

"It's a long story," he sighed. "You'll tell it in a moment. I'll look at your nose first."

He didn't have time to protest. The hacker rolled across the bed and moments later was already in the bathroom.

"Unfortunately I had to break in again," he said when she returned with the first aid kit. "Nothing new. I'll have to replace the lock soon, although I can't afford it at all." "Sorry, I shouldn't have. I'll cover any costs, but it was urgent. On Tuesday we fly to Washington so Pritchard is going crazy. Another moment and he will bite the wires. Meanwhile, you don't answer the phone, you don't answer the door. I started worrying."

Laura sighed, holding a cotton swab, soiled with blood, in her hand. "I've already forgotten about this damn trip," she said.

"You should be happy, Adam will be there too," he said, deliberately mentioning that name. "It's true, maybe we'll spend some time together," she nodded, knowing the lie had worked out poorly. "Are you having doubts again? After all, you two have started getting along," Connor furrowed his brow."I talked to Rupert, he suggested I should think carefully because in his opinion I'm trying to replace Joe and I'm using Adam to do it." "And you believe all this?" "He's a psychologist, a damn good one. It's not about whether I believe him, it's about giving myself some time. Joe was important to me, even very important. I don't want to hurt Jensen, that's why I need to know if what I feel is true." "Joe was more than a friend, wasn't he?"

The hacker slowly, affirmatively nodded her head, tucking things into the first aid kit. Connor noticed those nervous gestures but reminds silent. He suspected there was more going on behind the scenes than he had thought.

After all those usual morning activities like brushing her teeth and combing her hair, Laura got dressed and made herself breakfast, urging Connor to at least have a cup of coffee.

"I need your help. Since I'm alone in the company, Pritchard is monstrously nosey. Before we fly to Washington, he wants me to check the company's security with you. That's why he calls so often," he explained as they sat in the kitchen. "I know Sunday is not the best day to work, but..." "I'll help you, no problem," she interrupted him. She hid the dirty bowl in the dishwasher. "Let's go to the living room. It will be more comfortable there."

The man nodded, got up from the table and adjusted the chair as perfectly as he could. Later, he put his coffee cup in the dishwasher. The woman watched intently. She didn't suspect him of such thoroughness; he acted almost like an android.

"Don't look at me like I'm not human," he muttered. "That's just the way I am, thorough," he shrugged his shoulders and went to the hallway to get his backpack.

She led him away with her eyes, and almost immediately Adam's warning words came back to her. They barely sat down on the sofa, and Stalker jumped into Connor's lap. Laura wanted to take him, but the man protested. A cat's trust is something that can't be bought. It is not blind. It's a set of many factors. Maybe this is some kind of sign?

The black screen of the laptop brightened, and after a while, she already had the security code, or rather part of it, in front of her eyes. For obvious reasons, they couldn't copy files and take them off-site.

"How this file came into your possession?" the hacker became even more concerned. More and more details were leading to one conclusion - Damien. "I fought a war with Frank over it," he sighed, leaning his back against the back of the sofa and intertwining his hands behind his head. "I had to have something to interest you. If you want to call him and ask for confirmation, be my guest." "That's the last thing I want," she muttered. "In that case, stop questioning me. What is this really about?" he asked irritably. "About nothing," she muttered evasively. "Laura!" he growled, trying to get her to talk. "Adam told me to stay away from you. He thinks you're acting weird." "Because he couldn't find my files?" he snorted. "You yourself know very well that the database updates in certain intervals, but yes it's true, my data was not in it. I accidentally overheard the conversation and remembered that I had not fulfilled this duty, so I ran to the office where I quickly uploaded what was necessary and manually refreshed the database. That's why you were able to see them." "So there's no mischief, trickery or secrecy involved?" "Decide for yourself. I said everything." "Since I'm still talking to you this probably means something." "I don't know, but it was mean," he said with anger in his voice. "Connor, I'm sorry. You can see for yourself that I disobeyed him." "Because you want to spy on me." "No!" she protested. "Maybe I'll forgive you, I'll think about it," he muttered, intertwining his hands on his chest. "As usual I spoil everything," she sighed and wanted to get up already, but he stopped her. "I'll forgive you, but you'll bake me kanelbulle," he said, grinning his teeth in a wide smile. "You're teasing me! You cruel little...!" "But of course I am. And I’m not that little, at least in some parts,” he shrugged. “Quite seriously,” Connor’s voice changed into less joyful. “Adam had the right to suspect me. He is the Head of Security."

Laura became serious too and looked at the laptop screen. "So should I go to the company with you today?"

"No, tomorrow we'll go through the whole thing. Today I don't want to. In fact, it was just an excuse to visit you and see how you're doing."

She wanted to reflexively say he could have called but, after all, she didn't answer the phone.

"I feel great, as you can see," she replied without conviction. "Of course. Now feed your cat and get dressed. We’re leaving," he ordered, turning off the computer. "I want to stay at home. Where are you taking me anyway?" she muttered with great reluctance. "We'll go eat something good. That always helps for the mood," he stated.

His enthusiasm did not infect Laura at all. Tomorrow she would have to face the demons anyway.

"At the place where we’re going to, you won't meet Adam, Faridah or even Frank. I promise," he assured, zipping up his backpack. "Will you trust me?" "I will trust you." The tone of his voice was so gentle she couldn't refuse. Maybe fifteen minutes had passed when the hacker returned dressed in a blue wool turtle neck and dark blue jeans. As she tied her boots, Connor fed Stalker. His visit was something she needed. The man spread an aura around her that made her feel calm and safe. "Put on your cap," he suggested while putting his on. "I don't know if you know, but it snowed."

The woman nodded and found in the locker her favourite black one with a purple and blue pattern.

Streets of Detroit. Camarilla Club.

When they stepped out into the street, the frost immediately began pinching their noses and cheeks. Laura suddenly felt something hit her lightly on the back, and when she turned around, a ball of soft snow splattered on her hat.

"Blight!" she shrieked, paying back Connor with the same.

The hacker nimbly dodged the flying snowball and then hid behind the car. The woman did the same and after a moment carefully stepped around the hacker from the left.

"Take that!" he heard but didn't have time to perform a dodge and was hit in the shoulder.

Halfway to their destination, they were already all wet, but Laura's laughter was the best reward for all his suffering. Finally, they stood in front of the entrance to the Camarilla Club.

"And what do you think? Is it a good place to hide?" he asked, glancing at her obliquely. "I might have guessed you would bring me here. I had concerns about going to The Jackdaw or Crann Tara. This place is perfect." "After all, I told you that you wouldn't meet anyone familiar."

At that hour the club was almost empty and dimly lit. Most of the staff was still off so when they walked the corridors she didn't meet any of the butlers. Connor led her to a room she knew well and immediately lit a fire in the fireplace. He hung their wet jackets on the backs of the armchairs, which he moved aside. He spread a thick, soft blanket on the carpet in front of the fireplace.

"Make yourself at home, I'll be right back," he said and left before she had time to respond.

The room that had previously frightened her now became extremely welcoming, and when the man returned with two mugs of hot chocolate and a plate of cinnamon cookies she really felt at home. Connor set the tray on the ground and sat down next to her.

"How do you do it?" she asked looking at the blazing fire. "What’s on your thought?" he looked puzzled, reaching for a cookie. "You spread some kind of magical aura. Everything suddenly becomes simple, it's nice and warm." "That's just the way I am," he shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know if you like it, but I've fried some carp, and there will be cabbage with mushrooms and bread to go with it. I know that Christmas is over," he said embarrassed, rubbing his neck. "I love carp, probably the most of all fish."

Laura didn't feel like pondering now whether it was a coincidence or perhaps some secret conspiracy. She wanted to spend this time carefree, away from problems. The hacker woman even allowed herself two pieces of fish, which was delicious. After finishing their meal, they returned to their room with mugs of hot tea with a slice of lemon.

"The last Christmas I remember well was the one in Berlin with Joe," she said quietly.

Connor didn't interrupt her or insist to tell something that might be painful, but Laura herself wanted to, so he was glad for the trust she had placed in him.

Berlin 2010 Lemon-Lime.

"Is that okay?" asked Laura, standing on the ladder. "Move a little to the left," replied Toby."Better?" "Too much. Now half a millimetre to the right," he stated, finishing wiping the wine glass. "You pestilence! You're teasing me!" she exclaimed, turning around and losing her balance at the same time. "Watch out, crazy girl!" laughed Joe, who happened to be passing by and managed to catch her. "It's been a long time since he's been so cheerful," remarked Alexios. "Aha, Laura is a good influence on him," admitted Toby, watching the girl wrapping a purple Christmas tree chain around Navras' neck. "Lemon-Lime hasn't looked this nice in a long time. Great job," Joe praised. "Thanks, boss. Laura had a great idea with those lights," Toby admitted.

Laura looked at Joe, Alex looked at Toby, and he in turn merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Wait, is that..." "Yes, I'm the owner," he muttered putting the girl on the ground. "I've got going, I've got some work to do," he lied and moved toward the elevator.

The bartenders showed her with hand gestures to follow Navras, but she wasn't convinced about the idea so they pushed her forcibly into the elevator. She got off with the intention of returning to her room, but as she walked down the corridor, palely lit by the white light of lamps blended into the ceiling, she noticed the massive door was open, and she had long wanted to find out what secrets it guarded. She cautiously stepped into the small, rectangular room, and the door closed just behind her back, hissing quietly.

"Decontamination in progress, please stand still," she heard a robotic voice coming from the speaker. "Holy shit. Joe is going to kill me," she said quietly.

Once the process was over, she walked further in, looking around. The next room looked like a warehouse full of medical equipment and drugs. She tried to open the door in front, but it was locked. The girl leaned with her back against the wall. It looked like she was trapped. She closed her eyes with a heavy sigh, and when she opened them she looked to the right. The girl noticed a light on the floor lined with square ceramic tiles. Its source was under the door.

"Someone must be there. Even if it's Joe, better such a rescue than none at all," she said quietly to herself."

Laura approached the dark green door and carefully pressed the handle.

"Don't sneak around like that. I knew you'd come," she heard Navras' voice. He didn't sound like he was angry at all, but she couldn't see his face. He was sitting in an armchair, his back turned to her. Lines of code were scrolling on several screens. "So now I should call you 'Boss'?" she asked.

The man turned in his chair "If you want, but I'd prefer just Joe," he muttered, extending his hands to her.

The girl came closer, and his hands rested on her hips.

"Why didn't you say so right away?"

Joe sighed and tilted his head "At first I decided that I simply didn't have to. Later I had concerns that you would run away. As you can see, Toby solved the problem. I don't know if he did it by accident or on purpose, but it doesn't matter anymore."

"I see you're very busy and I'm probably disturbing you," she said with feigned seriousness, looking at the rows of numbers, letters and characters. "Mhm, someone is successfully trying to distract me," he replied with a long murmur, patting his lap.

Laura sat down on them and they both turned toward the monitors.

"Why don't you combine the two commands?" "Because then they are mutually exclusive and nothing will happen, look," he explained, doing as Laura suggested. "Interesting... What if you use this one?" she pointed her finger at the screen. "I'll delete the previous command." "Mhm."

For another quarter of an hour, the girl watched what Joe was doing. Although she didn't understand much of it, in a way, she was fascinated by those lines of text.

"Joe?" "Yes?" "Will you teach me too?"

The man laughed but became momentarily serious. He didn't want to offend her.

"Programming is not something that can be learned in a week. It takes several years to do it. At least several." "Could I at least try?" she insisted.

Navras was silent for a moment, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Well. We'll start with theory, if you don't get bored in a month we'll think about what to do next."

The man reached into one of the drawers of the graphite-coloured desk and pulled out several books. While doing so, he was careful not to knock Laura off his lap.

"From zero to zero cool. The code has you. One code to rule them all. Coding for beginners," she listed aloud. "In a month you're supposed to know them all by heart," he said in a completely serious teacher's tone. "Meanwhile, go help Toby and Alex." "Yes boss," she muttered, then kissed his lips long and fervently. "Don't think that this will help you with anything," he muttered. "I hoped so," she replied with a deep sigh.

Joe had a great deal of knowledge and skill regarding the management of Lemon-Lime. By the evening, the place associated with loud music and fun had transformed into an elegant restaurant where unexpectedly many people wanted to spend the holidays. On this occasion, a cook and waiters were hired to take and serve orders. Laura helped Toby and Alex, but felt unnecessary most of the time. Joe was lost like a stone in water. He wasn't either in his room or in that secret management centre. She didn't know if it was really some kind of the strategic point, but that's what she called it. She went back to her room to lay down on her bed with the intention of taking a little nap. She was already beginning to fall asleep, drifting off into that wonderful oblivion. The world disappeared, the sounds quieted, and there was only peace, unbroken peace.

"Laura!" a shout coming from somewhere in the distance became more and more insistent. "Go away, Toby! I want to sleep," she muttered as if speaking to someone in her dream. "I need your help!" he insisted. "What is it?" she asked in a sleepy voice filled with nervousness. She knew she wouldn't get rid of him so easily. "Our waiters can't keep up with everything, and the special guests just arrived," he explained. "And what about that?" she muttered, wrapping her blanket tighter around herself and rolling over onto her side. "Will you go to the VIP room and collect the order? Please. You're our only hope." "Out of the question!" she growled. "I look like a scarecrow. I'll scare everyone, and no one will come back to Lemon-Lime again." "Well, if no one collects the order on time, these people will give us such feedback that Joe will have to close the place."It was a very pertinent comment, although it bore the hallmarks of emotional blackmail. "Well, I'll go there," she replied with a heavy sigh. "VIP room number 1," Toby said and left.

Laura quickly found something better to wear, because the oversized Navras t-shirt didn't look very elegant. She dressed in jeans and a blue button-down shirt, combed her hair into a high ponytail and gently brushed her lips with lip gloss. Immediately after exiting the elevator, she noticed Toby wasn't lying. The waiters were leaving the kitchen and returning to the floor like ants. It was at this point that she realized she didn't have a notebook or pen with her. Only the phone she once got from Joe.

“Well, you can’t kill progress,” she thought.

The girl decided that, despite her hate towards inventions of the future, she would use these technological advances for her purposes today. She looked up at the green light glowing above the door, which meant it was okay to enter. These halls had already seen many strange and less strange things take place. Joe didn't approve of such behaviour, but he had to compromise to keep the club going. Laura didn't know what she would find upon entering. Nor did she know if she would be forced to do more than just write down an order. The light in the room was dim, so she couldn't see much except the shapes of the furniture and the silhouette of a man dressed in a tuxedo. Perhaps it was in black or navy blue.

"Welcome to the VIP area of the Lemon-Lime Club. We wish you a Merry Christmas," she said, trying to maintain a professional yet polite tone of voice.

The man did not speak or move. The girl felt fear overwhelming her. Her legs suddenly bent under her like dry sticks, and the image stretched and dissolved to become a uniform blackness. She fainted.

Laura felt herself getting hot. She was hoping for no answer, one of his jokes, or a refusal. Anything other than what she heard. The hacker turned on the TV but there was too much information about the arrival of the new year so she quickly gave up flipping the channels any further. She wondered what it would be like to live with Adam, and these thoughts overwhelmed her more and more. She started looking for a good excuse, an escape, but each time she hit a wall.

"What are you thinking about so intensely?" she heard the Security Chief's voice right next to her right ear.

His wet cheek brushed her skin causing her to shiver.

"About nothing in particular," she tried to avoid answering.

The seat of the sofa sank slightly when Adam sat down. She knew that now he was going to extract information from her like during interrogation.

"Well, okay," he sighed. "Don't talk if you don't want to." "The point is... I... I wanted to say..." she tried to turn her thoughts into sentences. "Damn it..." she muttered.

Jensen raised an eyebrow, looking at her but wasn't going to make it easy for the hacker to answer. He waited patiently for her to find the courage to do it herself, or take another dodge.

"I was thinking about what it would be like to live here in a foreign place. What it will be like to step outside the boundaries of something familiar to me. Something where every corner is friendly to me, I know what everything smells like, what it feels like to the touch." "I'm not that much of a stranger but I understand what you mean," he said putting his arm around her shoulders. "It was just a suggestion, if you don't want it, the world won't fall into ruins and you won't offend me with it." "You know very well that I just want..." "Laura, listen. If you think that coming to live with you, especially in this state was an easy decision devoid of fear, you are sorely mistaken. Many thoughts ran through my head. At first I felt uncomfortable, but then I regretted that I already had to go back to my place." "You always know how to convince me," she muttered. "That's what I'm for. Meanwhile, we should leave now. It's better not to be late."

Adam was already putting on his coat over a dark green woolen sweater when Laura finished tying her shoes. He noticed she was trying very hard not to trouble him, but bydoing thisshewas not acting like herself. Maybe there would be an opportunity to ask Rupert's advice, although he felt silly that he was using him for private affairs. On the other hand, he knew that the Scot was too proud to accept money from him. He did so only in the beginning when they barely knew each other, then firmly refused.

Half an hour later they were already outside MacKenzie's house. Demelza noticed them through the window so she opened the door before they could approach. Nothing in her demeanor indicated that she might be offended by the events of Christmas. It was as if it had only been a bad dream. She invited them inside, protested as usual when they wanted to take off their shoes, and then pointed to the closed door of Rupert's office. Only now her serene face clouded over, which meant that while she had let everything go, Rupert still held a grudge. Unfortunately, the Scot's pride was something solid like a mountain that is hard to move. Adam knew he had to be very careful with his choice of words, but Laura could spoil everything. The head of Security did not manage to stop the hacker so when she entered the office he was ready for anything.

Rupert raised his eyes, tearing himself away from the passionate reading that was the pile of documents and patient charts.

"Good afternoon. Did I interrupt you?" she said quietly. "On the contrary!” the man exclaimed. “It just so happens that you helped me end my suffering," he replied, smiling slightly. "What did it consist of?" she asked raising an eyebrow. "Well, I'm not fond of writing and reading reports, checking and filing documents and things like that," he explained, pointing to the sheets of paper spread out on the desk. "Maybe I could help?" she offered.

The Scot rubbed his temple in thought and corrected his glasses. Although the proposal seemed very tempting to him, he shouldn't let third parties into his patients' data and problems. On the other hand, he also had a lot of other secure documents that needed arranging.

"If you're so inclined," he replied after a moment's silence, rising from his chair. "I have several folders which contents need to be checked and arranged according to a pattern I'll give you in a moment."

Laura quickly learned how to catalog the various documents, and made up for any gaps in knowledge by asking Rupert for details. In a way, this offer of help was an attempt to rebuild a strained relationship, and she reckoned the Scot was well aware of that, but she still held out hope that he would appreciate her efforts.

"By the way, I wanted to apologize for spoiling your Christmas," she risked.

"You'd better tell me how things are going with Adam," he muttered without interrupting the note. "Quite well. We lived together for a week because of his leg."

The Scot furrowed his brow and looked at the woman from behind the lenses of his glasses.

"Can you explain what happened?" "In a nutshell, I was mugged when I was coming back from the ball. Adam wanted to help but they overwhelmed us and now his knee will never be functional again." "You feel guilty, don't you?" "Yes, because that evening my friend was also killed."

She didn't know why she said this so lightly and why she shared this information with him at all, but the psychologist was able to coax her into confiding in an unforced way.

The Scot furrowed his brow again and left the formalities for later. "Do you want to talk? Adam won't bother us, Demelza will occupy him until we're done," he assured.

Laura hesitated, but eventually decided that talking might help her overcome her pain. "I’d like to," she said quietly.

She was about to start the customary courtesy of explaining that she didn't want to cause a problem, but the man managed to lead her into an adjacent room. They both sat down in armchairs. Rupert waited in silence until Laura decided to start a conversation. He didn't want to rush her, but he always had a set amount of time, after which he would find a topic that naturally brought up a dialogue unrelated to the problem.

"As I mentioned before, I was assaulted. I'm sure they were mercenaries that Damien sent. Before Adam came to help me, Joe, my... friend, showed up."

The hesitation in the hacker's voice was subtle, but it still didn't escape Rupert's attention. He pretended not to notice anything, however. He listened intently as she talked about the fight, about how Joe died, about Jensen's leg. Later, Laura went back to the events of 2010, which took place in Berlin. She started with what she had written in her diary, and wanted to end there too, but the feeling that she needed to shake off the accumulated burden was stronger.

Berlin 2010.

The end of the year was approaching, Christmas time, the end of something and the beginning. Evie decided to stay at Lemon-Lime, although the first few weeks were not easy or pleasant. Many times she invaded Joe's private space, said something she later regretted, or their habits became a bone of contention. Toby helped ease the arguments, but he was not always successful. He also didn't want to decide for Navras but had to take some decisive action.

"Evie, let's have a moment, we need to talk," he stopped a woman who was just approaching the bar. "I've wiped down the tables, I'm about to wipe the glasses and plates. We'll make it in time for the opening, don't worry," she assured, sitting down on a high stool. "That's not exactly what I wanted to talk about. It's about you and Joe."

The girl puffed out her lips, letting out a protracted snort. "There's nothing to talk about, everything is under control," she tried to avoid the subject.

"Unfortunately it's not, and although I shouldn't, I have to explain something to you before he comes back." "I'll help you. I don't need good advice," she muttered, sliding off the seat of the stool. "Joe lost someone close to him, just like you. That's why he's so cold, angry and distant. He always takes the time before Christmas badly."

The chewing gum balloon shot loudly and coated Evie's mouth. "This photo... That's why," she said once she finished maneuvering her tongue to peel it off. "All the openings. But I was stupid not to see it."

"Now you know, but don't try to be nice by force. Joe will notice that." "I'll try to control what I say and do."

She wanted to say something else but Toby gave her a warning look that Joe had just returned.

"Evie, what are you doing here? The tables won't wipe themselves," he growled barely managing to reach the bar. "I already wiped them down. I was just going to take care of the glasses," she replied frigidly but without rude remarks.

Joe wanted to say something, to stop her, but only opened his mouth. He was ready for an argument, but not for a calm answer. Indifference hurt him more than he thought.

"Toby, I brought everything. Call Alex and unpack the supplies," he said after a moment to the bartender. "I'll go take a shower and eat something."

The man only nodded. He had known Joe for a long time and could tell by his behavior that talking to Evie was already having the desired effect. He smiled to himself, then went to find Alexios.

Navras went straight to his room, hoping that Evie would not get in his way. He rarely felt so out of balance. He took a quick shower, after which he intended to eat something just as quickly, and then get busy with the investigation he had been conducting for some time. Not too concerned about what he was wearing he went to the kitchen in just his underwear. Joe often did this before Evie moved in at Lemon-Lime. Today he forgot she was here. Fortunately, the girl was busy cooking and her back was turned to him so he managed to turn around in time. A few minutes later he returned dressed in a dark purple t-shirt and sweatpants of a similar color.

"I made spaghetti, would you like some?" she asked when he stood next to her to brew some tea. "You don't have to be nice. I can make dinner myself," he muttered. "Unfortunately, according to the schedule, I'm feeding you today so you're doomed to eat spaghetti or starve," she shrugged her shoulders.

Joe raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. He didn't feel like arguing, especially since Evie was avoiding conflict. They ate in silence and parted each in their own way. He wanted to tell her how much he enjoyed this dinner, but no words could pass through his throat. The reasons for the state he was in were unknown to him. At first he thought the upcoming holidays, but he had never felt it so strongly. He was absent-minded and muted, but never irritable or angry. Joe spent the rest of the day in the part of Lemon-Lime that only he, Toby and Alex had access to. He sat in front of a 32-inch monitor, the screen of which showed a map of Berlin with the locations he was checking. The adjacent 24-inch one displayed pictures of people he had probably killed, or was just planning to. But he couldn't focus his attention on looking for new leads, he kept thinking about Evie and how Christmas was as difficult for her as it was for him. Perhaps spending this time together is not as stupid idea as he thought until recently.

As every evening, a host of guests came to Lemon-Lime. At first Toby and Alexios had to take care of serving the newcomers, while Evie distributed drinks and snacks. Later, everything quieted down so everyone could take a breather. Joe was nowhere around which angered the girl. She felt like yelling at him for leaving them alone, but after talking to Toby she abandoned all forms of aggression. She even wanted to buy Joe some kind of Christmas gift but didn't have the money for it.

While the bartenders were busy with other things, Evie moved away from the bar and went to the floor. Amidst the crowd, she looked for someone willing to have quick sex in the restroom, as she used to do until recently. Surprisingly, in such a place it was so hard to find willing people. Only after half an hour did she find a willing man. Together they went to the men's room and occupied one of the vacant cubicles. The young man was extremely excited, it was possible that he had taken drugs which gave him a chance to extort a larger sum. He went straight to the point and was quite firm about it, at times even brutal. Evie pressed her lips tighter and tighter with successive thrusts. She felt the growing, throbbing pain but had to endure. Fortunately, he finished quickly and, without resorting to trickery, paid more than she wanted. She found the second willing almost immediately, then there was a third and a fourth. Everything was going so well that it was all too good.

Joe appeared out of nowhere, loomed over her suddenly and didn't look happy at all. Evie already knew that she was in for another fight, after which she would probably leave Lemon-Lime. With a firm tug, Navras pulled her out of the restroom, paying no attention to her protests that he had, after all, pushed his way into the line. On the way, he threw Toby a furious look and pushed the girl inside the elevator. The silence was boiling with rage, but Evie tried to drown out this feeling with another, friendlier one.

They entered her room, Joe pushed the girl with such force that if she hadn't fallen on the bed she might have been badly battered at best. He was out of control of himself, which reached his consciousness in a split second. It reached and aroused even more rage, which this time was directed in his direction. Under no circumstances should he treat her this way.

"What the hell were you thinking!" he yelled.

It was a good thing the rooms were soundproofed, otherwise their argument would have been heard by everyone present in the vicinity. Evie remained silent lying motionless.

"Lemon-Lime is not a brothel! Besides, you're underage. Didn't you think I could get in trouble?"

The girl slowly rose, clumsily helping herself with her hands. She corrected her tousled hair, which she tried to arrange so that it covered the shaved part of her head, as if how she looked was the most important thing now.

"I needed money," she said quietly, watching her hands, whose fingers she nervously snapped out. "After all, you could have asked. Surely I would have thought of something. But no, you had to make trouble, as always," his tone was still icy, and his words hurt her like wounds sprinkled with salt.

Evie took several deep breaths. Her body trembled, shaking all over inside shrouded in fear of what she wanted to say. "I needed money because I wanted to buy a gift for Christmas. It must be as hard for you as it was for me. Even harder, after all I am a walking problem. I destroy everything and everyone."

"Evie..." Joe sighed loudly, clasping his robotic hands in silent helplessness. "You wanted to do something good, and I appreciate it, but not like this." The man sat down next to her. "Didn't you think about the fact that I would rather not get a gift than live with the thought that you sold your own body to buy me one?" "Me and my body are not important. All that matters is your happiness."

Navras furrowed his brow. What he heard strongly disturbed him. Perhaps the girl needed professional help, but he could not provide it. She was staying here illegally, and he knew almost nothing about her. Despite how much trouble she had caused him, he still felt affection for her, which quickly began to turn into something that was starting to get out of hand.

Evie got up, started gathering her things that fit in her purse and didn't even have time to open the door. Joe was at her side in a split second and, typing in the appropriate code, locked the lock from opening.

"I don't want you to leave. I don't think you want that yourself," he muttered as he carefully turned her to face him.

The girl merely shook her head negatively. His violet irises seemed brighter than usual. Joe was as close as in her dreams. Clearly she was no longer unattractive to him.

"You act this way to keep me, nothing more," she replied reproachfully. "Never," he said the word with a firmness that could not be challenged by any argument. "I would never use false feelings and gestures for something like this."

His forehead touched hers, slowly and gently. Navras did not take another step, giving her time to decide. She could have run away at any time, but she didn't. He brushed the tip of his nose against her nose as if beckoning with palpable provocation. Then Evie decided to take the initiative. She touched his lips with hers, but immediately withdrew them for fear of doing something wrong again.

"You're a terrible coward," he muttered in his bass-baritone voice.

He finished what she had started. He found her lips and pressed into them with a long kiss. They lingered like that, the scene not remotely resembling those passionate and hot scenes straight out of the movies. Joe was still afraid of what would happen next, but who doesn't take risks doesn't have any. He did not forcefully prolong the kiss, he knew how to sense the moment when it should end.

"Do...We now...I mean..." Evie tried to put together a meaningful sentence, but couldn't.

"Yes, now it's 'We'," he added.

Rupert was silent for a while. He didn't like to give advice, preferring to give hints, but in Laura's or Evie's case, a hint was insufficient.

"So is your name Laura or Evie?" he began with a safe question.

The woman sighed loudly and looked at the Scotsman. "Actually both," she lied. "I changed my name after my parents died. It was too hard for me with the old one, but Joe used it anyway. He always said I shouldn't run away."

The psychologist took off his glasses, took a cloth from his pants pocket and wiped the glasses with it. "Losing someone you had feelings for hurts a lot. You should not suppress this pain by clinging to Adam. Give yourself time, think everything over a few or a dozen times. Otherwise what's between you won't be sincere, and you don't want to live behind a veil that's slowly starting to suffocate you, do you?"

The hacker didn't know what to say. Rupert's words hurt her terribly, but he was right. Everything looked like a perfect relationship, in fact she was clearly trying to replace Navras.

"I invite you to dinner," she heard Demelza's saving voice.

The Head of Security was already waiting for her in the dining room. He looked surprised that Rupert no longer showed even a hint of anger. They ate lunch in silence, then Adam had a glass of whiskey with the Scot, and Laura had a nice conversation with Demelza, and in the process took the recipe for her delicious cakes. It was after seven o'clock when they said goodbye. All the way Laura was quiet and absent, which worried Jensen.

"Adam, I've decided that for this week I'll stay alone. Maybe I'll go somewhere with Faridah. I think it will do us good." "Of course, no problem," he replied, but he felt something evil hanging in the air.

Dinner tired him out so much that he didn't have the strength to ponder the reason for this sudden change of mind, but surely it was Rupert who planted the seed of uncertainty in her.

Laura fed the cat, then went to the bedroom. From the drawer where she kept her clothes, she took out a small box locked with a combination. She opened it and took from it a silver orchid necklace.

"I was foolish because I spurned you at the best time of our lives, and now you are gone and nothing will ever be the same again."

"Where did you find my watch? I've been looking everywhere for it," he asked, focusing her attention on him. "I found it when I was at the Camarilla Club," she replied.

The Chief of Security sat down beside her, straightened his leg and leaned with his back against the wall. He waited to see when and if she would even understand what he wanted to convey to her in this question.

"Wait...Wait a minute..." She looked at the ex-SWAT. "Your watch?" the man nodded affirmatively. "I… Then..." "We danced together," he helped her finish. "I was in Crann Tara, coming home I saw you walking there. It was an impulse. I just wanted to be close, and a disguise is a perfect excuse." "How did you recognize me?" "Well, there was only one lady in blue. I ruled out being mistaken. Disappointed?"

The woman shook her head negatively. "On the contrary, subconsciously I was hoping to see you there. I thought it was you who asked me upstairs."

"It wasn't me. I left right after that waltz."

Laura handed Adam back his watch. "Unfortunately, it crashed."

"That's nothing. I'll have something to do. I like repairing old watches." "I'll make breakfast, it's late and it's probably today you have an appointment at the hospital?" she reminded something Adam didn't want to remember. "Wait. I wanted to thank you," he stopped her when she was about to get up. "For what?" she asked surprised by his words. "For being honest with me. Everything you wrote must have cost you a lot." "You're right, but you should know that. Even if it hurts."

Jensen leaned over and kissed the top of her head. After breakfast, Adam called a cab. Laura insisted on going with him, but he firmly refused. Less than an hour later, the ex-SWAT called to say he had to stay for additional tests and would only be back in a few hours. They agreed she would leave him spare keys at a neighbour's flat as if he had returned earlier and used the time to shop and look at The Jackdaw to see if Faridah was there.

Adam wasn't home when Laura brought the groceries so she unpacked them and left. She had just passed the cut-through leading to Augtasia, Camarilla Club and that third club, which still had no signboard or opening date. She remembered the man in the mask, and that alone pushed her straight to the door of the Camarilla. Until eighteen o'clock, it was an ordinary place where one could have a cup of good coffee or tea and eat something sweet without dressing up in Victorian costumes. She didn't count on meeting this mysterious man but hoped that maybe one of the guests knew him. Two girls were sitting at one of the tables, sipping coffee, eating apple pie and chatting. Laura approached them.

"Excuse me, can I take a moment of your time?" she asked. "We're not buying anything," replied the woman with dark, almost black shoulder-length hair. "I'm not selling anything. I just wanted to ask you something." "Of course. If you'll excuse me, there's someone selling something all the time lately." "Don't you happen to know who the masked man is? He probably runs this club. I was once invited upstairs, but I have no idea who he might be." "We've been to his place a few times, too. I guess every new face is introduced to him. Unfortunately, the only one that came to mind was Vannevar Thomas. The same one who has a broadcast on The Masquerade radio. "You mean Rendezvous with V?" the hacker inquired. "Exactly," nodded her blond-haired colleague. "How do you know he's the one running these broadcasts?" "Well, it's just our guess, but on the carpet in his room is the crest of the Ventrue clan so we ruled out other vampire personalities," the dark-haired woman explained.

"Perhaps that was a mistake. There were rumours that Eric Northman also appears here, so we already have two leads," the blonde interjected.

Laura wanted to ask a few more questions but was interrupted by one of the strange chaps. She called them bodyguards, but they were closer to butlers.

"Will you allow me to take a moment of your time? Follow me please," the tall, thin man in a mask asked her to come up to the bar.

The hacker had no choice. If she protested she would lose the opportunity to delve further into the club's secrets. She was almost certain she would be politely asked to leave the premises.

"Our Sir is asking you upstairs," the man explained.

The hacker reflexively looked up. Standing on the balcony was a mysterious gentleman who responded to her gaze by elegantly raising his glass of red wine in a gesture of greeting. Laura's heart began to beat several times faster. She felt herself getting hot and starting to lose her breath. She suddenly found this brilliant idea most idiotic. Again she found herself in a room with a fireplace. This time only the host was elegantly dressed. He stood facing the quietly ticking antique clock. He did not turn around hearing the soft slam of the closing door.

"Curiosity can be deadly," he said in a calm tone. "Because of it, you have lost your anonymity, Miss Werner. But your secret will stay safe with me," he assured.

The woman trembled, and fear froze her entire body bringing up dozens of thoughts. Who is the man who knows her identity? How does he even know her? What are his intentions? Is it...Damien?!

Adam had probably already visited half the hospital and passed most of the possible tests. He was tired of these unsuccessful efforts of doctors. Once he had resigned himself to his fate, there was suddenly a pale light of hope, which was immediately brutally trampled. Finally, he was asked into the office of the attending physician, so he paced down the corridor, clutching under his arm dozens of cards, X-rays, other notes and electronic test records. He entered the room armed with cold indifference.

"Come in, Mr Jensen," the doctor gestured with his hand and indicated to him a chair facing the desk. "I'll ask for the test results," he said calmly once the patient was seated. "If I may ask, be honest with me and spare this artificial gentleness," Adam's tone was rough, balancing on the thin line of being rude.

The doctor nodded slowly, correcting his glasses in between studying more cards and reviewing the recordings. An unbearable silence rumbled across the ceiling, walls and floor. Muffled voices and a baby's cries broke through from the hallway.

"You wished for honesty so I will honour that request," the man looked at the Security Chief touching the fingertips of both hands together. "Your leg will never be functional. This has not changed. Any doctor will say the same thing. You will most likely have to use a cane and take Vicodin to keep the pain from dominating your life. On top of all this, you will also have drug addiction problems. Of course, one possibility will save you from suffering..." "That's out of the question," Adam interrupted him. "I know that behind these words there is only marketing. You try making people believe that augmentations save lives, but you don't mention how much evil they can bring with them." "That's how it is with everything. We have no influence over others. We can only decide our own actions."

Jensen thought about Laura and how his selfish attitude could harm her.

"If I were to consider replacing my leg with a prosthesis, what would the whole procedure look like?" the ex-SWAT calmed his tone of voice. "Well, installing a prosthesis is quite complex. First, you must recover, then we will amputate the diseased leg above the knee and replace it with an artificial leg. After that, an adjustment stage varies depending on the patient's condition. The second option is knee endoprosthesis, which means replacing the diseased bone fragment with a prosthesis. After the operation, you will face a long rehabilitation requiring patience. I do not have exact knowledge of the last solution because it is Limb that deals with augmentations, but in addition to the prosthesis, a control implant located in the brain is also implanted. As with all surgeries, there is a risk of rejection of the prosthesis, and if all goes well you will be taking Neuropozyne for the rest of your life."

Adam nodded slowly. Perhaps he should push aside his prejudices and consider augmentation if only for his own comfort?

"I'll take it under consideration. I still have some time. Besides, the procedure itself will probably take some time?" "That's true, for the first two options you have to wait several months. With augmentation I don't know, you have to ask in Limb. That's all for the moment. Until the end of the week, please still use a crutch, then start relying only on your muscles and joints. I invite you to come back in two weeks for a check-up." "Okay, I'll be there for sure. Thank you and have a good day." "Likewise."

Jensen wanted to hear something different, but he didn't know what he was hoping for. The leg wouldn't be functional by magic or goodwill. Nevertheless, he managed to cast the bad thoughts aside. On the way back, he stopped by a candy store to buy something good to accompany a cup of coffee.

Laura retreated until she finally felt a wall behind her back and already knew there was nowhere to run. For a moment she was comforted by the thought that maybe it wasn't Damien but Joe, who by some miracle had survived. However, she quickly came to her senses. She had to be ready for the worst, so her gaze began a panicky wandering around the room looking for anything that could help her. A bottle - too far away. A table - too heavy. The woman finally found the weapon she was looking for. She carefully moved closer to her target, and her fingers slowly wrapped around the brass object.

"One false move and I'll blow your head off!" she warned when the man turned to face her.

He laughed seeing her angry face and the candlestick held with both hands. "Relax, I won't do anything to you," he assured, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Shut up. Those sweet words don't work on me!"

The host sighed. Laura left him with no choice. "Okay, I won't scare you anymore," he muttered, taking off his Venetian mask.

"Connor?! Damn it, why are you doing this?!" yelled the hacker. "Don't be angry. I wanted to remain anonymous for a while longer, but you gave me no choice. Sit down, we'll talk for a while."

The woman hesitantly walked to one of the armchairs and sat down. She reminded herself of what Adam had said. Could he really be dangerous?

"I guess you won't need this anymore?" he asked, pointing to the candlestick resting in her lap.

Laura handed him the object, which Connor placed on the table, right behind the bottle of whisky.

"Sarif doesn't pay you enough that you have to play with these disguises?" she asked, feeling her muscles begin to relax and calmness return. "On the contrary! Thanks to my job at Sarif Industries, I have the means to cover the expenses associated with this club." "And where did you even get this club? It's an expensive investment."

RK800 felt like an interrogation, Laura was very inquisitive. The man sighed. "A friend of mine had to leave Detroit. He didn't want Camarilla and its traditions to be lost, so he asked me for help. He transferred part of the shares to me, so I'm a partner."

"So Vannevar Thomas, who has a broadcast called "Rendezvous with V?" on The Masquerade radio, is you?" "Yes, it's a great promotion for the club. People come here wanting to know the truth and leave with only assumptions and vague ideas." "Isn't that a scam?" "In a way. But just look at how their imaginations start working. Instead of sitting at home and staring at the TV screen, they come here, search, ask, have a nice time, and meet new people. Doesn't this little lie do more good than harm?" "Well, actually, yes," the hacker reluctantly conceded his point. "Did I disappoint you? You were probably hoping for someone else." "If anything, I disappointed myself. Somewhere deep down I thought that..." she broke off biting her lip. "That you would see Joe's face under the mask? He must have been very close to you," he aptly remarked. "That's true," she nodded. "After my parents had died, he was like a father to me."

Connor smiled. "Is there any news from the front? Well, you know if Pritchard continues to be more grouchy than usual."

Laura laughed. "I'm staying at the company, so Frank will take his emotions out on me."

"I won't let that happen."

The hacker picked up something strange in Connor's voice, making her feel anxious, yet reassured at the same time. She wanted to reply but was interrupted by the sound of an incoming message. She looked apologetically at RK800 and reached for her phone in her trouser pocket.

I'm on the way home. I'll be there in about half an hour.

"I have to go, Adam will be home soon. He had an appointment. I want to know what the doctor said." "Sure, you can go, but promise me you'll come here again sometime." "That much I can promise. If not with Adam then maybe with Faridah. She wanted to visit Camarilla. See you around." "Bye, take care."

When she went downstairs, she noticed that more people had arrived, but the women she had talked to were no longer there. As she walked past one of the tables, she accidentally heard two boys talking.

"Thomas, do you know anything about this third club? They were supposed to open it this week." "Haven't you heard? They put the premises up for sale. I doubt if anyone will be willing to buy the place. No wonder, Camarilla and Augtasia are barely making money for themselves so why would anyone invest in a sinking ship." "It's a pity, it promised to be interesting," he added."Besides, the location is not one of the most attractive. They recently killed each other in one of the alleys. Probably a gang scuffle." "Holy shit. This city is really going downhill."

Laura felt the air suddenly thicken, turning into tar filling her throat and lungs. She began choking. With all her strength, she pushed open the door and ran outside, catching a huge gulp of air as if she had just risen from the sea depths with her last strength. Everything reminded her of Joe through which she began to forget she was dating the Security Chief. The memories came back, the fieriest ones, awakening the senses, and making her shiver. She walked down the street, and doubts piled up.

Fortunately, she managed to get back before Jensen. Laura didn't want to explain to him where she was and with whom, and with his police interrogation skills she would have told him everything at once. A quarter of an hour later, she was no longer alone. A quarter of an hour later, there was no longer any doubt. The ex-SWAT had just managed to put his shopping bag on the chest of drawers top and take off his shoes when the woman unexpectedly pushed him gently against the wall.

"Laura what are you...?" he managed to utter not much more than her name before she interrupted him.

After that, there were only her sweet lips joined with his in a hot, passionate kiss. It was long, greedy and filled with longing as if she hadn't seen him in months. Adam embraced her around the waist without hesitation. Despite the surprise, she caused by this move, he did not protest. He wanted it so much that it tingled in the back of his mind. He wanted it now and here, long, deep and unhurried. Laura felt a warm breath on her cheek, and then Jensen's tongue gently brushing her palate. She responded the same way, slowly and without insistence. She was already used to his stubble irritating her skin. She liked it. They paused only to catch their breath, and then went back to getting to know each other again, in the course of which they clashed their teeth, or inadvertently bit their lip too hard.

"What did the doctor say?" she asked quietly as Adam hung his coat on the coat rack. "Let's have dinner first. Then we'll talk," he said, and his voice was rougher than usual.

Laura sighed. Jensen's behaviour did not bode well, but she could not force an answer from him so she had to comply. The Head of Security did not allow her to help with the cooking. He wanted to do everything himself which angered her even more.

The man looked at the hacker and her almost untouched steak, but it took a long time before he decided to speak up.

"Don't you like it? I forgot to ask what kind you like." "It's perfect." "But?" he finished her statement with this one word. "You have bad test results or..."

Adam sighed loudly. "So that's the point. I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd be so concerned about it. Everything is healing well, I'm supposed to be walking on a crutch by the end of the week, then on my own so it's time for me to get back to my place."

The fork Laura was holding fell out of her hand and rang loudly against the plate. She had been so afraid of the fact that they would be living together, and now an even greater fear paralysed her at the mere thought of her house becoming deserted. The head of Security grabbed her hand and wrapped it in his. "Don't worry so much, after all, I'm not going to the end of the world. Besides, you can stay at my place, just for a change."

"Just like that?" "Mhm, just like that."

Jensen was not entirely happy with his idea. He would have preferred to be alone, to think over what he should do, but Laura was very emotionally unstable at the moment. It was more important to make her feel safe than his personal dilemmas.

After lunch, he repeated to her what he had heard from the doctor. He did so because she insisted. The reaction was what he expected. First, she pretended to be tough and took his words in a manly way, then she began to crack like a surface of thin ice to finally cry. Adam put his arm around her and waited for her to calm down. Sometimes such moments are best passed over in silence, to let the emotions run free.

By evening they were determining if and when Laura would move in. The woman became apprehensive about whether she should take up his proposal at all, and whether this separation would be better for them, but Jensen had a pertinent argument for each of them. In the end, they agreed that he would leave as early as tomorrow and give themselves two days to think about it. The hacker didn't mention the visit to the Camarilla Club or that Connor was the owner. She decided that she would be careful when meeting him, and with the trust, he has in her, she might learn more. She and Adam agreed that they should visit Rupert not at Crann Tara but at his home. After all, they ruined his Christmas with their immature behaviour.

Despite Laura's protests, Adam packed up immediately after breakfast and returned to the Chiron Building. The woman stared at the window occupying almost the entire wall of the living room waiting for the light to come on in apartment 3434. She noticed how the blinds slowly lifted, soon the Security Chief waved at her, and her phone signalled the arrival of a new message. The woman reached for the phone lying on the table by the window.

Just don't write you miss me already.

Of course, I miss you.

Jensen disappeared from her sight for more than ten minutes so she reluctantly went to feed the cat and brew herself some coffee. She couldn't find anything to do. She would have been happiest in her office right now listening to Pritchard whine. Although, after a moment's reflection, that wouldn't be a good idea.

Rupert said we could come to his place for lunch at two in the afternoon today. Does that suit you?

Yes. You know very well I don't have plans. Can I come to you a little earlier?

No.

Then no. :(

Just kidding. Come whenever you want.

While exchanging messages, Adam felt like a teenager writing to a girl he likes. On the one hand, he liked the feeling, on the other, he thought he was too old for it. Immediately after unpacking his things, he tackled the broken watch. He took it apart, cleaned each part, oiled the cogs and put it back together again. Fortunately, he had a spare glass, so he replaced it. When all was finished, he put the watch away in a drawer. As he waited for Laura to arrive, he had the feeling that time was standing still or going monstrously slow. He laughed quietly at the very memory of their first meeting. The hacker had irritated him so much, and now he felt a longing when she wasn't near.

This was what she had hoped for, that she could enjoy this illusory closeness to Joe, hidden in the scent that permeated the fabric deeply. When he left, she took a solid shower and washed her hair. Wrapped in a towel, she walked over to the dresser, slid open a drawer and selected one of his purple t-shirts and boxers, which she clipped together with a safety pin found in her bag. Eventually, he offered his clothes himself. She left the room with the intention of looking for something to eat and looking around the club. By chance, she heard the conversation that was just going on in the corridor.

"I see you've taken a liking to Laura," Toby stated while picking up the forms. "You could say that. She seems quite nice," Joe replied. "I sense some unspoken 'but'," remarked the bartender. Aug sighed. "Well, those fancy earrings in her ears I can put up with, but the one in her nose I can't and then there's that chain. If that boy had pulled on it yesterday. It would have torn her nose and ear." "She's just a child, she'll find out after a while that it doesn't suit her," Toby assured him. "Maybe she'll change her hair colour and hairstyle in the process," he muttered. "You're too picky. After all, she's not your girlfriend." "And she won't be." Laura turned on her heel and ran into the room. They saw the kid in her, especially Joe. She didn't know why she cared so much about his opinion, but as soon as she returned she immediately removed all her earrings and went to the bathroom. She started looking for scissors but only found a razor blade. Looking in the mirror with tears in her eyes, she cut more strands of hair that fell into the sink. She wanted him to appreciate her, to say she was pretty. Despite her efforts, she looked even worse than before, and she didn't notice she had cut her finger and smeared her cheek with blood. She sat against the wall wrapping bent legs, bursting out crying. "Laura? Are you here?" She ignored Joe's voice coming from the room. She hoped he would go away, acknowledge she had left. "Here you are. I thought..." He broke off, seeing the hair in the sink and the girl sitting on the ground. He scolded himself in his mind, realizing she had heard everything. He should be more careful. Even if he doesn't like her looks, making such comments is inappropriate. "Why did you do that?" he asked sitting down next to her. "I'm ugly, aren't I?" she sobbed, covering her face with her hands. "I'm the one who's old and stupid," he replied, uncovering her face. "I shouldn't say that." "You're not old," she uttered. Joe managed to smile. "I'm twenty-four years old. You still think I'm not old?" "Still. I'm almost seventeen, and act like a child." "Being a child is a luxury, you should enjoy it as long as you can." "I don't want to be treated like that." Not by you. "So you need to grow up, start thinking, then acting and taking responsibility for your actions." His voice was rough and stern like a father lecturing his child. Laura sighed loudly. "Don't sigh just take action."

Joe was cruel, and she had hoped for something completely different. She saw him as someone he wasn't.

"I'll start by cleaning up," she muttered and walked over to the sink. "I'll go make breakfast. I'll call you when it's ready." Laura washed the blood off her face and bandaged her cut finger. About a quarter of an hour later Toby came in. She already knew that Joe was avoiding her for some reason, so she didn't want to stand in his way. She ate her fried egg with bacon and toast as slowly as she could while she waited for them both to leave the kitchen. When they were out of sight, she started searching through the cupboards. Fortunately, she found everything she needed to carry out her plan. No one looked into the kitchen for the next hour, so she had time before anyone noticed. It was late afternoon when Joe and Toby returned to the living area. DJ saw a plate with kanelbulle piled on it. It wasn't hard for him to guess that Laura had baked them, so he didn't hesitate to treat himself. The bartender also let himself be tempted. "Joe, there's a card here," he remarked when they were halfway through eating.

"Let me see. Maybe I accidentally left a form," he replied, unfolding the piece of paper.

"Thanks for everything but you're better off without me. L" DJ choked on another bite so hard that Toby had to pat him on the back several times. Kanelbulle suddenly became bitter, so he reached into his trouser pocket for cigarettes and a lighter. "You just let her walk away like that? That's not like you," the bartender commented. "She's..." He wanted to say 'grown up' but both in age and behaviour she wasn't. "Laura is entitled to her own decisions." Toby snorted and shook his head at hearing these ridiculous explanations. He wanted very much to say something cruel to him but restrained that intention. "Don't make the same mistake a second time," he said and left.

  The streets of Berlin.

Laura felt the cold penetrate her thoroughly. She was wearing only a cotton hoodie with a shirt underneath and worn-out trousers. In the blink of an eye, the rain had turned into thick snow, so she hid in the depths of a side alley, hoping not to run into that bunch of idiots again. She sat on a pile of rubbish bags, cringing to retain as much warmth as possible. The suffocating stench of decaying food made her feel like throwing up, but she had to endure. Time passed and with it her hope for survival dwindled, shrinking to the size of a thread, then a hair. The girl struggled to keep herself from closing her eyes. The image was blurring into greyish patches, she could barely move her fingers. The lantern lighting up was the last thing she saw. The night embraced her tenderly, welcoming her into eternity. She flew through the darkness, beyond time, slightly in stillness, carried by an indefinable force that did not belong to her. Then she drowned in the oriental, spicy scent of ginger. If this is what death looks like, she could die without end. Accelerated heartbeat, hot breath, reached her with fragments of sensations. Everything and nothing at the same time tallied up. She fell as lightly and gently into the cold, which changed into warmth in a split second. "...oby ...ring th... therm...ore. Hur... up!" Slowly she moved her toe, wanting to open her eyes but couldn't manage to do it. "You... ...ot ...ere ju... in ...me." "Hea... rhyt… ...etur… to ...rmal. Stay ...ith us Laura!" Inhale, exhale. Light begins to reach under the eyelids. It irritates the eyes, is intrusive and merciless. A blurry face leans in, a hand touches her forehead. "She has a high temperature. Prepare an injection." The sting was something that snapped her out of this strange state of suspension. It brought her down to earth with an intense thump. "Is that you, Joe?" she said barely audibly with lips dried and cracked from the cold. He wanted to yell at her, to say what he thought about all this. "I'm here. You'll feel better soon," he assured her with fatherly concern. "Why..." "Rest," he interrupted her more because he didn't want to explain. He left shortly after Toby returned, carrying an intravenous line with him. Laura rolled onto her side. "Hey, turn around for a second. I need to insert a needle, and don't want to sting you more than once," he said setting the stand by the bed. "I don't want to," she muttered. "No one asked him to look for me." "You really don't understand why he did it?" "Because he's stupid." Toby sighed. The girl did indeed have a difficult character. "He cares more than you think." "A-ha," she snarled. The bartender didn't have the strength to fight her, nor could he find an argument to convince her. "All right, if that's the way you want it let's..." He was interrupted by the hiss of the door opening, he looked to his left and saw Joe carrying a tray with a bowl of steaming broth. DJ nodded to him suggestively so he left. "Get out of here," she growled warningly like a cat ready to attack. He felt like telling her that he was actually at his place so she should be the one to get lost, but stooping to her level was a bad idea. He set the tray on the nightstand, moved the armchair near the bed and sat down. He found the secured needle from the intravenous line and then grabbed Laura's hand. She wanted to jerk it away, so badly with all her strength and from the depths of her soul but she couldn't. Joe's touch overpowered her. She didn't even feel it when the needle penetrated her skin. The man took the bowl and scooped up a spoonful of soup. "Now eat. You need to build up your strength. I propose for the grumpy, unfriendly, Joe." The girl looked at him for the first time since she regained consciousness. On the surface, he looked like an older brother caring for his sick sister, but there was something strange about him as if conflicting thoughts and emotions were fighting each other. Joe put down the empty bowl and rubbed his temples. "You said I was no prisoner, yet you brought me here. To the place, I left voluntarily." "To a place from which you fled for a reason unknown to me." "I left," she persisted. "If you had, you would have at least come to say goodbye in person instead of leaving a note," there was clearly a hint of regret in his voice directed sharply in her direction. "If you'd been more tactful, this wouldn't have happened," she retorted. Joe rose abruptly from his armchair and began walking around the room. Laura had hit home, he should refrain from such comments even if he thought she wasn't around. "You're right, it was inappropriate," he said turning back to her. "But how many times do I have to apologize to you?"

"I don't know," she muttered. Joe sighed loudly, took the tray and left. Half an hour later Toby came in. He disconnected the intravenous line, took her temperature and gave her a spoonful of some disgusting-tasting syrup to drink. He did not say a word to her, so the situation must have been very tense. After all the stuff they had put into her body, Laura felt much better so she got out of bed and wanted to find Joe. She thought he was upstairs but as she was walking to the lift she heard music coming from behind the door of his room. She wanted to knock but the photocell worked.

For you, for you I would bring down the heavens on this earth For you, for you I would even trust the devil for rebirth

Joe paused and looked to see who had appeared. He put his guitar aside and didn't look happy about the fact she was the one who had come.

"What do you want? You should be lying down," he said in a husky tone. "I wanted to talk. I'm sorry that..." "We have nothing to talk about," he interrupted her. "...I didn't knock but the door opened by itself," she finished. "I think we have a lot to say to each other." "It's a little late for that." "Give me five minutes and then I can disappear forever if that's what you want."

I don't want to.

"Well, come in," he agreed, letting out a loud breath through his nose.

Laura slowly entered the room, intertwining the fingers of both hands nervously. She stood next to the bed where Joe was sitting.

"Don't just stand there, I'm not biting," he said, trying to spark a pleasant tone out of his voice. "I acted like an idiot." "That I already know," he tried to provoke her. He wanted to see if she would really start to get over herself. "You've already helped me twice when you didn't have to. You gave me a roof over my head, and I'm still angry about some stupid earrings and hairstyle. Let's start all over again, shall we?" "Now you look even worse," he added. DJ couldn't continue being serious and laughed.

The girl looked at him frowning. "Wait, wait a minute. I'm trying to fix everything, and you're laughing?"

"Yes, because I forgave you ages ago. I can't stay angry for long," he shrugged his shoulders. "Especially at pretty girls with bad haircuts." "Joe!" she exclaimed and hit him with a pillow. "But seriously. You should go back to bed. You were in a bad shape when I found you, and the drugs you were given will soon stop working." "All right, Doctor," she joked walking to the door. "I'll come in a minute," he said. "Of course if you want." "It will be a pleasure," she smiled."

Joe still had to attend checking paperwork and picking up a delivery which he hadn't planned to do, but Toby had rightly pointed out the urgency.

"How's Laura?" he asked when the DJ put a piece of paper down on the bar top.

Joe moved restlessly on the bar stool. "Better, she's resting at her place. I said I'd look in on her in a bit but as you can see my plans have changed," he replied rubbing his temples.

"So you two have already reconciled and explained everything?" the bartender inquired.

If they didn't know each other so well, the DJ certainly wouldn't be so polite and calm.

"We've called a truce, but I don't know how long it will last." "Joe, stop pretending, you like her, and it’s not an ordinary ‘like’. But if it comes from the fact that she's a lot like..." "Enough!" growled the DJ. "Don't ever mention her!" "Interesting, because you're the one carrying on some sick private vendetta. You lurk through the streets of Berlin at night looking for clues. You pretend to be a knight of the night, an angel of justice, and where has that gotten you?" "I have to find these bastards. That's all I'm interested in. And I'll do it with or without you." "Just don't drag Laura into it."

It was far too late for that. Joe had already made a strong commitment and it was something deeper than just a simple human desire to help. Something he feared and couldn't prevent. Laura was too young, they could convict him under the law, but she had a light in her that could warm his cold soul and air that made him breathe again.

"I'll go check on her," he muttered and stood up. "I signed the delivery acceptance and checked the documents. I won't be at the opening today." "Joe, think about it some more. She's going to suffer, and it's going to be your fault."

DJ disappeared behind the shelves. During the lift ride, Toby's words tormented him. It was true, that Laura would suffer, but she would decide that for herself. Once he was outside her room remorse caught up with him. He had said he would come in a moment, and it had been over an hour. The door opened for him and he let himself in. The girl was asleep, but he heard her repeating the words "Mom", and "Dad" and immediately after that she started screaming. Joe was at her side in a split second. He held her in his arms when she woke up. He touched her forehead. It was inflamed with the fever, which he feared."Joe..." she whispered cuddling tightly into him and tightening her fingers on his shirt.

"It's just a bad dream," he reassured her.

The man wanted to get up, but she wouldn't let him. "Stay, please."

"I'll be right back, I have to go get some medicines."

DJ walked down the long corridor and stood in front of a massive door locked with a combination lock and access card.

"What about her?" he heard Toby's voice behind him as the green light came on and the door opened.

The room they found themselves in was a hospital room with glass medicine cabinets, a recliner and all sorts of medical equipment. It was white and green, reeking of disinfectant preparations with a dominant hint of spirit.

"Bad again," he said resignedly, opening one of the cabinets. "She's got a fever again, I'm afraid she might not survive until morning. I can't give her anything but pills," he sighed taking one of the packets. "Well yes, you can't give another injection until a day has passed since the last one. Alex and I will take care of everything. As you said, don't come to the opening today." "Thanks," he replied trying to smile.

Joe returned to the sick woman, picking up his guitar on the way. Music always helped, so he should try anything. The girl swallowed two pills, and the DJ covered her with some blankets. He sat down in his armchair and gently tugged the strings. He frowned, hearing the wrong sound and tuned the instrument.

When I feel so alone out here And freedom means I am lost When everyday seems a slow motion suicide You reignite my lust for life

Joe hummed softly, looking helplessly at Laura. He wished he could do more, use his enhancements to save her, but right now they were just a worthless bunch of wires wrapped in synthetic skin. He had never been someone who easily gave in to emotions and succumbed to feelings, now he was lost like a small stone tossed into the depths of the ocean. Toby is right, he should let go, stop looking for ghosts from the past, and dwell on what was four years ago. Unfortunately, he couldn't. He leaned his guitar against the nightstand, got up from his armchair and sat on his heels in front of the round bed so that he could see Laura when he finished meditating.

From delusion lead me to truth From darkness lead me to light From death lead me to immortality. Let there be peace everywhere

When the five senses and the mind are still, and reason itself rests in silence, then begins the Path supreme

He repeated again and again, trying to get the inner peace he needed now more than ever.

"Joe?" murmured a voice that he ignored. "Joe?!" came back with redoubled force, invading the recesses of consciousness. "JOE!" the inner calm cracked and shattered ringing like broken glass. The man opened his eyes. Laura was sitting on the bed with a furious look on her face. "Doggone it, I haven't died yet and you're already holding funeral ceremonies!"

DJ laughed. It was the only thing he could do now.

"Well, what are you laughing at, idiot?! You were supposed to come to me." "Sorry," he tried to reply but couldn't stop laughing. "Toby brought some urgent paperwork. We had to take care of it before the opening." "Wait, you were here with me the whole time?" "I was scared... You had a high fever, and I couldn't do anything." "But it's all right now. Unfortunately, I will continue to annoy you so don't sit on the ground." "Okay, I'll go back to the armchair," he replied standing up. "No," she protested. "Here, beside me," she commanded. "Out of the question," he muttered, intertwining his arms across his chest. "Then I'll go." "This is emotional blackmail." "It is. What's it going to be?" she asked tilting her head. "I give up," he said raising his bent arms in the air.

Despite everything, he was happy that his worst fears had not come true. He took off his shoes and sat down next to her on the bed, intertwining his hands behind his head. He hadn't even had time to make himself comfortable when he felt her head land in his lap and the girl begins to squirm.

"Not too comfortable for you?" he asked, glancing down at her. "A little hard, but manageable."

Joe snickered but didn't answer.

"Did I do something stupid or say something?" she asked looking at him closely.

DJ shook his head negatively. "No, but you called your parents."

"I miss them," she said quietly. "I remember that day like it was yesterday."

Uppsala, Sweden. 2009.

"Honey hurry up, we have to make it to the airport!" urged a female voice.

"I'm coming, mum!" "I've packed all the luggage, we can go," announced the father.

The girl came down the stairs holding the phone in her hand and the headphones wrapped around it. She slipped it into a rag bag slung diagonally over her left shoulder.

"I'm nervous," she said.

Her mother put her arm around her. "You'll be fine, you'll see. You've trained long and hard, you deserve to be Odette," she assured her.

Laura put on her jacket, grabbed ballet shoes and then they all left the house and got into the car. The winter day was actually a night in Sweden. They drove along a road winding through a dense forest. The girl was listening to Poets Of The Fall, wanting to calm her thoughts, to stop being so nervous. Their music always had a positive effect on her and helped during her worse days. She didn't know when it happened. There was a scream and a bang, and then darkness.

"You're in the hospital," she heard someone's voice. "Please lie still, no sudden movements." "How did it happen?" she asked with difficulty forcing her throat to make sounds. "You don't remember anything?" "A scream. Something like: He's driving in the wrong lane! Hold on!"

The blurred image was coming into focus, forming the face of a man in a medical coat.

"Where are my parents? They're fine, aren't they?"

This was the hardest part of being a doctor. To tell the truth or still spare the patient the shock.

"I'm sorry. You're the only one who survived." "That's impossible!" she jerked her body violently, but the nurse grabbed her shoulders. "Why can't I feel my leg! What the hell happened?!" "It was crushed by the force of the impact. We had to amputate it." "No. No! NO!!!" the girl began to struggle.

The doctor nodded to the nurse, who reached for a syringe. There was darkness again.

When I feel so alone out here And freedom means I am lost When everyday seems a slow motion suicide You reignite my lust for life

Though this ship's run aground You can still come around What is lost may be found Safe and sound And on this sorry-go-round Don't know which way we're bound What is lost may be found Safe and sound