#shadowfanfic

"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?

Fighting with long, brown-reddish hair consumed most of the precious time. Frank interrupted that battle with text messages. Asshole sent ten of them within a minute. Finally, she pinned hair in a bun, giving the final touch with a magnolia-shaped hairpin. Soon Laura was ready to go. With few books under her arm and a file in her teeth, she locked the door with the key. Miss Werner was an old-fashioned girl, a weirdo, they say. Going down the staircase, she heard the Newmans yelling at each other. The Cornwel family apparently had a party downstairs. Loud music was pouring out on the corridor, mixed with laughing and raised voices. Maybe she would drop by, but the track list wasn't really what Laura likes the most.

Before walking down the wide street, she looked ahead, admiring the Chiron apartment building for a moment.

„They have such a great life.” Thought with a heavy sigh.

On the way to her working place, she was passing by a dark alley, where groups of shady types were making the deals. The reek of weed, cigarettes, and spilled beer was terribly annoying. She always tried to avoid places like this one. You can't tell what those guys can be capable of. Prostitutes were leaning against the walls of gloomy skyscrapers raised on both sides of the road. People were talking about the weather, politics, and mostly about augs. Some of their chatting were muffled by passing cars. Laura looked up, longing for the blue sky, which was barely visible because of dense clouds.

„When I’ll be old I want to live in a small house with a garden, somewhere in the middle of nowhere. I will sit on the porch, drink cocoa, and stroke the cat occupying my knees.” Warm thought made her smile to herself for a short moment. Sadly, these are only dreams.

She hated all those blinding lights, neons screaming from every corner with advertisements, electronic books, and newspapers. Everything. Good old days are gone - That was the greatest sadness consuming her thoughts. What’s more, she’s alone here in Detroit and not eager to make any new friends. The mission must be completed, and after that, she’ll be gone for good.

Sarif Industries headquarters - The monument of a new era, a place where all of your dreams come true. If you have money of course. Laura passed by the wing-shaped installation lit with bright yellow lights and followed to the front door.

“Great world, here I come!” She almost screamed out loud when the glass door opened before her.

Sarif Industries headquarters. Lobby.

Two months, before the first attack.

Forget, disappear, do not exist. She wanted it so much at that moment, the moment that changed her life forever…

Nothing extraordinary used to happen on the way from the door to the escalator. And Laura didn't expect that something will today. Same as yesterday, and days before, she was passing by some workers busy with gossiping about unimportant things, security guards keeping order, and people coming to sign contracts to supply prostheses from Sarif Industries. Today, however, everything was completely different.

"Do not use this code!" She screamed at her colleague through the speaker of her smartphone. "Do I speak a foreign language? Didn't I make myself clear enough?!" She pressed. "Great!" She muttered, ending the call. "Idiot…"

At the same time, Laura felt like she was bumping into something or someone. A pile of books fell on the floor and scattered around her feet. She lost the grip on the paper coffee mug so it soared up high, pouring out the wet brownish content. She momentarily saw that big, wet stain on a dark brown, cotton turtleneck and part of a black coat. Her body seemed to scream an order to run away as far as she could and hide deep underground. But she couldn't. She was just standing like a pillar of stone, unable to move or say anything. She must have looked stupid at that moment, but the victim didn't seem to notice.

"From zero to zero cool? The code has you? The dark side of the code?" Laura heard his voice for the first time in her life and it was the sweetest melody she’s ever experienced. He was kneeling in front of her, mumbling book titles like nothing really happened. "Working with Pritchard is quite a challenge, miss…" He paused and raised his head up giving Laura a long careful stare with his hypnotic blue-gray eyes.

"Werner" She replied after a moment of silence. "Laura Werner. I am very sorry, Mr. Jensen. I really am. I'll pay for the cleaning, please send me the bill."

Adam was so formal and cold, but yet there was something that pushed her towards him. Luckily she did some research, and thanks to this she knew something about him.

"Nothing really happened." He replied with a rough tone of the head of security. "Was your boss the one you were yelling at?" Jensen asked handing over her books.

"No, not at all. After all, he's my boss, I'd get fired for such impertinence. I like my job so..." Hearing every spoken word Laura realized that she’s talking without any sense.

“So, you work in Cyber Security and I don't know you, but you know me. How is that possible?” Adam has changed the subject smoothly, and his tone has become colder.

“I insist, Mr. Jensen. Your coat is dirty because of me.” She just tried to spin around that stain and buy some time, but Jensen wasn't fooled.

“We’re not talking about my clothes Miss Werner. I asked you a question, so please answer.” Listening to him was almost the same as talking with a cop during interrogation at the police station. The only difference is that Adam is handsome as hell and most of those flatfeet not.

“It's simple." She shrugged. "Sarif Industries has many employees in the CSec, but there is only one head of security – You, Mr. Jensen.” Laura said without hesitation, looking straight into his eyes.

“Point for you, Mrs. Werner.”

For the first time, she felt victorious, but it’s only a false feeling. Jensen agreed with her what’s more, he must be tired cause making such a trivial mistake doesn’t fit his professional look.

“Miss.” She couldn’t resist and pointed to that mistake, though she didn't manage to baffle him. Adam was so determined, almost desperate to know the truth, and nothing could possibly stop him from doing so.

“Miss...” Jensen repeated slowly like he had realized his failure. “So how long have you worked at Sarif Industries, and why I know nothing about it?!” His voice changed from ice cold to thunder strike. Laura felt overwhelmed and cornered with one swift stroke. What if he already knows the truth? Impossible...

“I...” She started slowly, trying to choose her words carefully. There’s no place for a mistake. This is now or never.

“The clock is ticking, Miss Werner." He urged.

She felt that her legs are bending under the weight of his words like a willow tree. Laura didn't know what to say exactly, because no one had ever asked her about such unimportant things. He interrogated the suspect with a precision of an old cop, or maybe he used to be one?

“Since the simplest question remains unanswered, the rest of the conversation will take place at my office and I’m afraid that personal search is unavoidable.” It was hard to say if he just tried to scare her off or simply he was serious. Before she regained control, an unexpected rescue appeared.

She was more or less 5'2 tall, green-eyed brunette, wearing a fancy grayish tunic, black leggings, and high heels. With no doubt, she had a big impact on Adam’s behavior cause suddenly he smoothly transformed into a nice guy. If Laura was not mistaken in her evaluation, this is doctor Reed.

“Finally, Megan” Adam sighed with disapproval. “You said it would take you five minutes, and that was a quarter of an hour ago.” He complained.

“Oh Adam, you know that my research is important and everything has to be done perfectly before DC.” Megan tried to explain herself and her sweet talking made him melting like snow in the spring. “I’m free to go now, you must be starving.”

“Mhm, I am. But we'll drop by into my apartment on the way to the restaurant. I have to get changed.” After saying this, Jensen looked at Laura once more. „We’ll end this conversation tomorrow at my office, Miss Werner.” She wanted so badly to just stick out her tongue at him or say something stupid, but playing with this grumpy Cerberus was simply unwise.

She gazed at Adam until his silhouette had disappeared, then she sighed with relief, leaning her back towards the tall neon cuboid with an advertisement of Neuropozine. She’s been watching Jensen carefully since the beginning of their conversation. Without a doubt, he was a grumpy professionalist with a poker-face, who knew his job very well. He was rough in his relations with strangers and seemed to be inaccessible, but every firewall can be bypassed. All you have to do is take the right approach, and he will eat from her hand. If this is a "Song of Ice and Fire" then Laura is the fire that will melt the ice. She promised herself to destroy the wheel and break the chains. Adam won’t stop Laura from doing her job.

Yet with every second, a strange, unknown feeling was growing stronger and it was hard to fight with. She couldn’t resist it much longer, but the message codded in her mind reminded her that superiors don’t pay for fondness. She’s a hacker, the best one, and getting pieces of information is what she’s good at. Laura stood a while longer, looking at Sarif’s face smiling at her from another tall cuboid advertising this company. Finally, she considered that pushing the line further is very risky, and may evolve into an unwanted storm, so she stepped onto the escalator which took her to the first floor, straight into her boss's jaws.

"This piece of junk crashes again." He muttered as he kicked the metal case and regretted it immediately afterward.

"Can I have a look?" She asked with a raised eyebrow as the boss bounced in place on one leg.

"Suit yourself. Although I doubt that you are smarter than me." He replied with a poisonous smile.

"This blue wire should be plugged in here, and the green one is redundant." She spoke more to herself than to him. "Try to reset." She asked.

Frank unwillingly returned to his chair and typed a few commands. He almost wanted to say "Didn't I tell you ?!" with that proud tone of his when the message "Connection restored" appeared on the screen. Laura was standing right behind him but didn't say a word. The black leather jacket with orange inserts on the shoulders and white on the sleeves squeaked unpleasantly as he moved. Pritchard fixed his white turtleneck and grunted. He didn’t want to admit that she solved the problem, and simply thank her for that. Frank was too proud for this. An awkward silence floated in the air, repeatedly disturbed by the tapping of a pen on the desk surface. Finally, he tossed a new pile of papers on the desk.

"Why are you still standing here?!" He growled irritably. "Are you growing roots here or what? You have nothing to do?"

"I'm gone." Laura replied shortly with dissatisfaction, gathered the papers, and disappeared behind the door.

"You have to correct it for me by tomorrow, even if it may take you the whole night!" He shouted after her.

Walking along the long corridor, she passed by more offices surrounded by glass walls. Camera lenses followed her steps, making sure that she won’t break the law, but Laura had a few tricks to fool them if she wanted to. The escalator was already turned off, so she was forced to use the ordinary stairs. In addition to reviewing and correcting what Frank had given her, she also had to work out a strategy to fight with Jensen. Things were getting too complicated, and soon could jeopardize her mission, but that wasn't what scared her the most.

Detroit. Laura's apartment.

She got home early in the evening, but there was no time and place for resting. The pile of papers seemed to be bigger now than when it was on Pritchard’s desk. This means only one - she won't be going to bed soon. The Newmans stopped arguing, and from the party at Cornwells, she managed to pick out the lyrics.

There's something cold and blank behind her smile

She's standing on an overpass in her miracle mile

'Cause you were from a perfect world

A world that threw me away today, today, today

To run away

A pill to make you numb

A pill to make you dumb

A pill to make you anybody else

But all the drugs in this world

Won't save her from herself

"Their taste has improved." she thought, going upstairs. Stalker greeted her as soon as she crossed the threshold. Of course, she knew he was only interested in food, but she nevertheless stroked his head tenderly. He replied with a long purr as he walked slowly between her legs. Laura tossed the keys on a nearby locker, took off her uncomfortable shoes, and put on slippers. She placed the pile of folders carelessly on the sofa, then headed to the kitchen. She turned on the light and froze. An overturned jug was lying on the cupboard, and the water ran in streams, dripping onto the floor. The coffee mug, she had left when she was gone for work, now was shattered into pieces, and the culprit looked at its mistress with his usual innocent expression.

"Stalker, you little...! How many times do I have to remind you that mugs DON’T BOUNCE?!" Laura screamed with fury.

After confronting Jensen and an episode with Frank, she had enough impressions for today. Besides, she had some extra work, that her boss had ordered her to do and now that mess in the kitchen. Before she started cleaning, she slipped into a loose-fitting t-shirt and sweatpants. While sweeping the floor, Laura realized that her plan to defeat Adam turned out to be more difficult than she thought it would be. This guy was as cunning as a fox and nosier than her neighbour. Apart from Megan, she found no other weak points in his defence. When she was done, she prepared a bowl of Crunchy Pirates and sat down on the couch, leafing through the papers. At least half of them were useless and messy, but some gave her hints on how she could hack into Pritchard's database or even deeper into company servers. It was highly unwise to entrust such important things to anyone, and that observation made Laura even more curious. Despite his repulsive nature, Frank had to trust her, or he simply wanted to check her out because she did not consider him as a complete idiot. She dealt with the additional task extremely quickly, so before going to sleep she managed to take a hot shower and wash away the events of today. Laura always tried to leave things behind, but not every time she succeeded.

"Morning always comes too soon." She thought as the alarm clock rang and echoed loudly among the bedroom walls. The cool sheets still reminded her about the unexpected dream, the one about someone who shouldn't even be there. Laura felt as if her software had been attacked by a virus, breaking through all defence lines. Stalker jumped on the pillow and dabbed his tail against her cheek. She pushed him away with a little dissatisfaction, slowly scrambling out of bed. She slipped her feet into the soft cat-shaped slippers, stretched with a loud yawn, and that was the end of her nice, lazy morning. She jumped out of bed at light-speed when she realized what time it was.

"Frank is going to kill me!" She screamed so loudly that the frightened cat scuttled under the bed. The shower took her 5 minutes instead of 10. Dressing up 15 instead of 30, and she didn't even touch her breakfast. She left Stalker a full bowl of cat food and poured water into the second one. She grabbed her backpack and ran out of the house. Halfway she turned around because she forgot to lock the door. Along the way, she bumped into a nosy neighbour, who didn’t stop cursing even when she already disappeared from his sight.

Fate did not spare Laura today, she was terribly late and a heavy downpour welcomed her outside. She put on the hood, which at least gave her apparent protection, and rushed down the street. Water splashed from under the soles of the shoes with her every move. The almost entire way she was on the run, pausing only for a moment to catch her breath. By the time she got to the company, she was already soaked to the bone.

"Adam got mad. That was to be expected. Many unkind words were said about whores and such. I wanted to hit him, but I didn't succeed. Then I walked out and that was it," she finally shrugged her shoulders. "You two are acting like kids," Connor sighed sitting down next to her. "And what are you going to do now?" he asked looking at her carefully. "I'm going back to Detroit," she replied in a firm tone. "You'll take over my duties. Everything has already been done anyway so this is just a formality," she stood up and went to get her suitcase into which she began carelessly throwing clothes. "This isn't a solution just an escape," he stated, walking up to Laura and grabbed her arm in a firm motion."Let me go," she muttered, trying to yank it away. "I've already decided, and you won't be able to stop me." "How are you going to get back there? On foot?" he snarled taking a few steps back. "By foot, by bus, by hitch, by plane, by whatever," she enumerated as the panties, the dress from the party, and Adam's shirt, she'd accidentally had to take, landed in her suitcase. "I'll call my pilot and ask him to take you. I won't let you go back alone," he said grabbing her shoulders. "Thank you," she quietly said escaping with a sideways glance. The man reached for his phone in the back pocket of his grey jeans, scrolling through his contact list for a moment until he found the pilot's number. He walked around the room with the smartphone held to his ear and his free hand wrapped around the chest. "Hi Markus, are you free today?" he asked hoping for the answer he expected. "Yeah? That's great. Listen, could you fly down to D.C.? I'd like you to take Miss Werner to Detroit," Connor listened nodding slowly. "That's great, thanks I owe you one."

When he ended the call, he immediately met Laura's angry gaze and sighed hiding the phone.

"I don't like those squinted eyes, furrowed brows, and furiously twisted lips. What is it this time?" he asked completely calmly, he was even amused. "You owe someone a favour because of me. I don't like it," she replied, intertwining her arms across her chest. "It's not my problem any more, miss spoiled," he retorted smiling cheekily at the same time. "You..." she broke off without finding the right word. She threw the first thing she had at hand at him, but the man caught it without much effort and examined it closely. "Tampons Miss Werner? That's unreasonable, you may need them and quite soon," he commented clearly amused throwing back the box. "You’ve got an hour!" he announced while playing with the coin, slowly disappearing behind the door.

Life had taught her that nothing was free so all the while she searched for a reason why Connor was helping her so much. Unfortunately, she couldn't find one. His comment, surprisingly, didn't cause anger at all, more embarrassment.

Adam was furious, it had been a long time since anyone had brought him out of balance as Laura had done. But until now he had felt rage in a completely different way. If the hacker had stayed a moment longer, their argument would have ended on the desk among the papers, pens, and empty paper coffee cups. Between "Oh Mr. Jensen" and moans of ecstasy. Fortunately, it didn't come to that. He promised himself that if they ever got to this stage he would do it right. The man collected the papers in an even pile, slipped them into his bag where his laptop was already, and left. He was terribly hungry, but he did not stop at the restaurant. He wanted to talk to Laura first, calmly and without any bad emotions. They were both overreacting, and he was sure she felt the same way. He left his bag at his place and knocked several times on the door of her room but no one answered. He figured she probably didn't want to see him, which didn't surprise him at all.

"Laura's not here," he heard Connor's voice behind him. "She's on her way back to Detroit."

Jensen turned around in a split second, grabbed the man by the shirt, and impetuously pushed him against the wall.

"Idiot! You let her go back alone?!" he yelled clenching his teeth.

He wanted to punch him but stopped his fist in mid-air.

"You're way too nervous, Adam," he muttered. "Of course I wouldn't let her go alone. I called for my pilot, so she's probably boarding the VTOL by now."

Adam didn't reply, momentarily letting go of him, and rushed down the corridor towards the stairs. He ran down, hopping a few stairs at a time, bumped someone of his subordinates in the doorway, but didn't have time to apologize. At the roar of car honks, he ran across the street, jumped over the barrier at the gate to the Conference Center, and rushed to the landing pad.

"Laura!" he shouted as he saw her putting the last piece of her luggage into the cargo hold. "Wait! Please!"

Jensen didn't know if she couldn't hear him or was just ignoring him. He kept his distance because the VTOL was just taking off. The ex-SWAT watched as it dwindled on the horizon and his pain grew and swelled bursting him from the inside out. Adam cursed not once, not twice but a dozen times. He reached into his coat pocket for his phone and dialed Malik's number.

"Hi, Adam. How's the progress with Laura?" she asked immediately and her directness squeezed him monstrously by the throat. "Laura will be in Detroit soon," he announced quietly. "What do you mean she'll be in Detroit?!" Faridah shouted so loudly that Adam had to move the phone away from his ear. "It's a long story," he sighed. "Anyway, it's even worse than before I left." "I don't happen to have flights, so I'll hang around the helipad. Maybe we manage to talk, although I'm still mad at her after... you know." Malik dropped the subject, not wanting to make their mood even worse for both of them. “Bye!”

Jensen had to get back to work, he had an awful lot of it today. He couldn't focus on what others were saying to him for anything. Every try of reading the mail ended in getting stuck on the first word. Adam blamed himself for Laura’s running away, even though it was unprofessional and irresponsible. He had pushed her to make that decision with his own hands. Surely they could have explained everything if he hadn't started the conversation by yelling. He slammed his clenched fist against the table and hissed in pain. The Head of Security looked at the bandage wrapped around his sore hand wondering why he hadn't told her the truth. Two days was a hell of a lot. He already knew he would be haunted by the recent events and memories they had created together. In the evening he went for a walk in the Zen garden that Laura had shown him as if it would change anything. He wanted to smoke but didn't out of respect for the place. He walked over to the island and sat on a bench for no particular reason. At that moment, his whole life suddenly made no sense.

Detroit.

The VTOL was slowly losing altitude and gracefully descended onto the helipad. Laura felt she could finally breathe because no one was walking behind her with a set of good advice. The woman breathed deeply as soon as she was outside. She wanted to grab her luggage, but the pilot helped her out.

"Thank you," she said as nothing else came to mind and smiled slightly at the tall man with beer-color eyes and short-cut dark chocolate-colored hair. He was dressed in a gray and red corporate jumpsuit. She estimated the man might be Adam's age or not much older.

"A trifle," he replied courteously, nodded sparingly, and was about to return to the pilot's seat. "Sorry for the inconvenience, I wasn't planning on coming back," Laura tried to explain, she felt she should. "It's no trouble at all. I enjoy flying, and I have extremely few flights today," he explained. "Markus Manfred," he introduced himself by extending his hand to her. "Laura Werner," she replied, reciprocating the gesture. She wanted to continue the conversation but a call from the flight control station sounded from inside the cockpit.

Markus looked at her apologetically. "I was just complaining about being bored," he laughed and helped her with the luggage.

When Laura entered the company the VTOL was already in the air. She hoped she didn't run into Faridah because she would have to answer dozens of questions which would end in another war. Laura risked stopping in her office to leave the drone, she wouldn't need it anymore anyway. She wanted to pick up Stalker on her way home and a box under her arm wouldn’t make this simpler. The hacker dashed towards the stairs as fast as she could, ran downstairs, and was outside in a moment. The gloomy streets of Detroit did not improve her mood. She stopped for a moment by one of the bus stops to catch her breath. As Laura crossed the street, she heard her phone demanding attention so she reluctantly pulled it out of her jacket pocket while already on the other side of the street.

I heard you were back, but I didn't catch you at the company. Call me back. We need to talk. ASAP! F.

Laura sighed already knowing that Adam had to tell her everything. She definitely did not want this meeting and was going to push this moment away for as long as possible. Immediately after picking up the cat, she thought an evening at Crann Tara would help her mood, so she quickened her pace. Her gloom grew with every step the woman took. Laura knew she would never see Adam again after this, much as she wanted to. She ran away, just like that. It was the only thing she had mastered to perfection. All the time she made excuses for him and forgave every bad word. All the time she was the one to blame.

The hacker threw her keys on the hall closet, set the cage on the ground, and let the cat out. As she removed her jacket, Stalker left the cage with some caution, looking around. As she took off her shoes, the cat announced with a loud meow his desire to eat. Laura shook her head and went into the kitchen to fulfill the cat’s wish. She immediately stripped off her clothes on her way to the bathroom, reflexively looking out the window toward Adam's apartment. She closed her eyes and let out a loud mouthful of air, realizing how idiotic she was acting, after all, he was in D.C. The woman went to the shower, trying to keep it to a necessary minimum. Laura dried her hair and tied it into a ponytail, though she knew it would look terrible later. The woman dressed in clean underwear, as if she was about to go on a date which would end up with unforgettable sex. She found black jeans in her closet, worn through at the thighs, and a honey-colored sweater.

Stop hiding! Our meeting is inevitable! F.

She read another message with displeasure. Unfortunately, Faridah was right, if fate favors her they will meet on Monday. By that moment she should have a solid line of defense. In the meantime, Laura abandoned thoughts of what she would tell her. She put on her boots, wrapped a scarf around her neck, and put on her jacket. When Stalker came out of the kitchen Laura was already gone.

Crann Tara.

Half an hour later, she was greeted by the bartender's smile coupled with the question of whether she was ordering her usual. The woman nodded affirmatively, paid, and with a glass of whisky, walked down the stairs to the basement. The hacker had already forgotten that in this place she could have met Rupert and was horrified to find him sitting against the wall. Only after a while did she hear the subtle sound of a guitar coming from the other end of the room. She walked closer and sat down at a table near the left wall next to a bookcase.

You stood at the edge last night The dark came in A need for closure Crept under your skin You planned it for days Simple and clear Struggling was over Past the point of fear Did somebody's prayer get to The will to live in you? You pulled through You pulled through So this new morning Trust in your heart

Rupert's voice was so calm and the choice of the song seemed to be no accident as if he knew she was coming and had prepared for this meeting. She wanted to get up and leave, to run away but his gaze found her. Laura couldn't back out anymore.

And know that your life Is your great work of art With respect to the light And the darkness above May the root of this day Be love Be love Be love Did somebody's prayer get to The will to live in you? You pulled through You pulled through You survived You survived You're here another day Of precious life You survive You survive You survive

She listened to him, clutching the glass in her hands, from which she did not even drink a sip. Rupert spoke to her through the lyrics, reaching into the darkest parts of her soul. She felt as if someone carrying a light had found her huddled and frightened in a corner of the room. It was as if someone simply reached out a hand to her and she grabbed it. Laura didn't know when the tears flowed down her cheeks. She couldn't control it.

"Don't be ashamed of it. Tears cleanse," she heard his warm voice as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

He reminded her so much of her father, though she didn't know Rupert at all beyond what Adam had told her. The man returned to his table and tucked his guitar into its case. Laura felt as if the imprint of his hand had torn through her clothes and left a warm mark on her skin, which was now beginning to cool, turning into an icy breeze. The woman looked back, MacKenzie grinned and invited her to his table signaling it with a polite hand gesture. Laura hesitated for a moment, but subconsciously felt she wanted to talk to someone, or at least to sit.

The Scot didn't urge Laura to do anything. He just sat pretending to be immersed in reading. The hacker did not know how she should behave. If Adam or Connor had been now in his place, she would have made a fuss about them ignoring her. She had the impression that the psychologist was waiting for something and was being patient to the limit. His quietness was downright annoying.

"Don't you like silence?" he asked with amusement in his voice. "I hate it," she muttered, at which the man put down his book. "Too bad. You can learn a lot from it." The woman frowned, she had never heard such nonsense in her life. "Then what did you find out?" "First, I suggest we forget about the formalities. Rupert. Rupert MacKenzie," he held out his hand to her. "Laura Werner, but you already know that anyway," she muttered reciprocating the gesture. "I do, but I prefer to get to know others personally," he explained. "Back to the silence. I've learned you're impatient. Someone's silence drives you crazy because you don't know what comes from it. Silence acts as a catalyst for your mind. You begin to ponder why not a single word is spoken. Am I boring? Unattractive? Not worthy of attention? What am I guilty of, because it's my fault? For when you're alone in the midst of silence, everything is fine, you feel safe, cut off from the world, you don't have to explain anything."

The hacker lowered her gaze, focusing it on the honey liquid filling the glass. It was still untouched.

"You wanted to drown your problems in a glass of whisky, but you discovered that it wouldn't change anything. For a moment you will feel the obstacles are gone, the chains have broken and you are free. When the alcohol wears off, reality will return and it will be even more cruel than before."

The woman twitched slightly when the phone in her jacket pocket rang out with a protracted vibration. She knew it was Faridah again demanding answers.

"Ignoring friends and acquaintances is not a good solution either," Rupert was merciless as usual. Laura wanted to tell him to get stuffed and stop meddling in her private affairs, but she couldn't. He was damn right in every word he said and he didn't sound at all like the freak psychologist she thought he was. "I didn't mean to be rude, which is why I didn't reach for the phone," she tried to explain.

MacKenzie only smiled knowing full well that the woman was lying. However, he decided to disregard the remark with a deep silence. After all, he wanted to encourage Laura to talk, not scare her away by prying too much. Besides, he was the one who spoke the most. He was glad Adam wasn't here, he noticed the woman was less nervous than when she was here with the other man. "Go ahead, feel free," he encouraged her to check the message. The hacker woman had no other choice. She had to at least pretend to read, and if it was Faridah she'd stop at pretending.

We should talk when I get back. Please. A.

Rupert caught that nervous movement, that off-balance, and fear in Laura's eyes. He didn't have to think long about how much two plus two was.

"I had a fight with Adam that's why I went back to Detroit."

Scot just listened and watched her lips tremble as she nervously turned the glass in her hands.

"He has different ways of solving problems, and I have different ones. He's so monstrously formal, rigid, and thick-skinned. A lot of unkind words have been said. I don't know if he regrets them, probably not. Who cares about some dirty rag?"

MacKenzie straightened up in his chair, slowly beginning to understand what the woman was trying to convey to him in this twisted, cryptic way. He could hear her desperate cries for help like an SOS signal sent by a lone boat battling a raging storm on the open sea. He wanted to help her, not out of medical obligation but just out of pure human sympathy. Unfortunately, she was the one who had to take that first step.

"Even a dirty rag can be clean again, as it was before," he said calmly. "Whatever took place, I'm sure it can be explained. You just have to be able to listen to the silence and find it in the midst of the screaming." "If only it were that simple," she muttered, only now taking a sip of whisky. "I assure you it is simple. If you don't try later, you will dwell on why you missed the chance. If you decide to try then, you will tell yourself that you did everything you could but it didn't work out."

"I should go," she said, drinking the rest of the whisky at once and stood up. Rupert knew it was a symptom of panicked escape and immense confusion, but he couldn't do anything, he didn't want to. "Of course," he nodded slightly. "If you want to talk about anything, give me a call," he added handing her a rectangular business card with an address and phone number.

The woman hesitated, she could feel the deceit in it and at the same time the fatherly concern. Rupert was not urging or forcing her to do anything. He was simply being polite but showed no mercy. She took that first step by taking the business card, said goodbye, and left.

Laura's apartment.

At home, she read Adam's message a dozen times but didn't dare to write back. Lying on the bed she played with Rupert's business card. After a moment's hesitation, she sent a reply and put the phone back on the nightstand.

We have nothing to talk about. L.

The bedroom was drowning in darkness. The unpacked suitcase stood against the wall, reminding her of everything. She left one shoe in the living room and the other by the bed. Her jacket was barely hanging on the back of the chair. Laura had fallen asleep in her clothes, and Stalker curled up in a pretzel right next to her.

"I hope you like rare steaks," Adam muttered uncertainly as he returned to his seat. "Do I like it? Well not very," she said slowly, watching his nervousness grow over the fact that he had chosen poorly. "I love is a better term," she reassured him.

Jensen afforded a sparing smile and poured wine into glasses. He felt uncomfortable the whole time and couldn't relax one bit. Laura paused eating while looking intently at the man. She noticed a drop of sauce at the corner of his mouth and decided to take advantage of it. She didn't know why she was doing it. She was supposed to forget about the ex-SWAT. She was supposed to wage open war with him and wait for the moment when Adam will start to fight for her not against her. In the meantime, she was doing exactly the opposite. Adam reflexively pulled his head back when the woman moved her hand closer to him.

"Don't be like a child," she muttered displeased. "I don't bite. I guess." The man let her finish what she started. The gentle tinkle of her fingers made him tremble. He had kissed the inside of her palm before she pulled it back. "I'm sorry, it was..." he tried explaining but she interrupted him. "It was very nice," she finished. "For God's sake stop apologizing. This is getting boring," she rebuked him immediately afterward.

Adam reached for his glass and took a sip of wine. "I didn't even ask how you were feeling. You have so much work to do." "I'm a little tired, but otherwise I'm fine," she replied while playing with her fork. "It's good Connor is helping you. At least you can count on him," Pressing her lips together in a narrow line, Laura put her fork down so firmly that it rang loudly against her plate. Jensen put his hand on her palm. "Sorry," he muttered at which they both laughed.

They finished their dinner in silence, but the silence which unites rather than divides. The woman looked at the watch on her phone and then apologetically at the man.

"It's late, I should go you're probably tired too," she quietly said rising slowly from her chair. "With you, not a bit," he muttered leaning back in his chair slightly. "Stay for the night, of course, if you want," he offered.

Stay for the night. I won't feel so damn lonely.

The hacker hadn't expected this proposal. Adam had always been so formal, and now he openly wanted to spend the night with her. She didn't know what to do. If she refused him, she would hurt them both if she gave in she would show weakness and allow herself to be drawn into a toxic relationship. But why did she assume Connor was right? Maybe he's deliberately trying to pull her away from Jensen?

"Fine, I'll stay," she replied, smiling. "But I need to bring some things from my room. Like pajamas because I could distract you by sleeping naked."

The Chief of Security choked on a sip of wine. This was definitely something he hadn't expected from her. He just nodded as he watched her leave. He hoped she would be back. While she was gone, the waiter came to take the dishes knocking Adam out of his reverie. A quarter of an hour had passed when Laura returned with her morning clothes, make-up bag, pajamas, towels, and laptop. He was not very happy with the latter, but he did not say a word. He stood leaning with his back against the tabletop.

"Of course you can sleep in those prudish pajamas but in this, you will effectively distract me," he muttered pulling a t-shirt as blue as a cloudless sky from behind him.

Laura didn't know what to say for a long time. Jensen was not at all as innocent and introverted as he looked.

"You surprise me, Mr. Jensen," she finally managed to get herself to make any kind of comment by taking the t-shirt from him. The whole time since she had come here, she had been thinking about Stevenson and MacDowell and whether the new security measures would be effective enough. She hadn't expected to be so disliked at the company. "I like to surprise people. You, on the other hand, look nervous, and I'm unlikely to be the reason," he said with concern in his voice looking at her carefully. "It scares me to think I left something out when writing the code. I've checked it dozens of times, but still..." she narrated, nervously walking around the room. Adam interrupted her by grabbing the woman by the shoulders firmly but not too hard and turned her to face him. "I'm sure everything will be fine. You're talented, you know what you're doing. Remember when we fixed that camera together at the company?" Laura nodded slowly but didn't speak. They sat on the bed. Jensen put his arm around her drawing her slightly closer. "You're actually worrying about those two idiots completely unnecessarily. I'll take care of it, I promise. No one has the right to treat you like this. Nor anyone else," he assured, but there was not a hint of formal Head of Security in his tone only genuine concern. "No," she protested briefly but firmly, rising from the bed. "As a Chief, I have to resolve this matter myself," she added, sitting down again. "I understand, but if they wouldn't listen, turn it to me," he insisted. Laura sighed. "A slut who fucks the Chief of Security runs to him for help. Tell me, how would you take that?" "It's true the case is pretty awkward, but Frank certainly won't do anything, but I will." "All right," she raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. "If my actions prove ineffective I'll let you know." The hacker's phone demanded attention, but she was not very eager to reach for it to see what it was about.

Hello. How are you holding up? I heard about what happened, a nasty case. C.

The woman read the message and put the smartphone down on the top of the nightstand, then lay down on the bed. Adam frowned, guessing that it was probably the idiot writing to her. What puzzled him was why Laura hadn't written back. Out of sheer decency or perhaps because she preferred his company to Connor's?

"Let's go for a walk," she said suddenly. "At this hour? It's almost dark," Adam raised his brow in surprise. "If you're afraid of monsters then I'll protect you, I promise!" she laughed. The man didn't have the heart to protest. However bizarre the idea was she wanted to go just with him. "Okay. Do you have a specific place or are we going ahead?" he asked getting up from the bed. "I wanted to show you one place. It should look just as gorgeous now as it did in the daytime," she explained as she got her shoes on.

Adam put his coat over his shirt hoping he wouldn't get cold. He didn't really want to change. A few minutes later, they were already on the street. Instinctively, he put his arm around her but the woman did not protest so he did not withdraw his arm. The evening was unusually warm for the time when Christmas was nearer than far and he did not even have to button up his coat. Laura was so radiant and carefree which pleased him immensely. When they reached their destination, Adam felt as if he had entered another dimension. He was amazed at how skillfully modernity was combined with the beauty of a Japanese garden. He immediately noticed the pond overgrown with water lily leaves, which begged to be sailed across by boat. Rows of LED lamps stretching along the gravel paths surrounding the pond illuminated the area, creating an intimate, romantic atmosphere. Adam's gaze was caught by a tree-shaped structure that stretched like an umbrella over an island in the middle of the pond. He knew it was Connor who had shown her this place but that was irrelevant now. Laura had a reason to come here with him.

"It's beautiful here," the Chief of Security admitted as he looked around. "I knew you'd like it," Laura smiled. "You know, I've been dreaming about being here," she added. She walked to a bridge made of hexagonal slabs leading to the island. "I was walking on this bridge wearing a dress holding a Japanese umbrella in my hand, which fell into the water. You appeared suddenly, dressed almost as you are now but you had no coat on. You picked it up, shook it out of the water handed it back to me, and then…"

The woman squealed quietly when the ex-SWAT took her in his arms. "And then I carried her in my arms right under that tree," he finished nimbly stepping over each slab.

"It didn't quite look like that but this version is much more interesting," she admitted embracing him by the neck. "I did say, after all, that I like to surprise." "But you won't suddenly disappear?" she asked once they were on the shore. "I'll think about it," he muttered smiling slightly. "And what else was in your dream?" he inquired when they sat down on the bench. "I don't remember, I woke up," she lied nervously intertwining her fingers together. "Oh. Then I'll demonstrate to you what usually happens in dreams," he said. "I don't know if I'm ready for that," she tried to defend herself when his lips came dangerously close to hers. "I'm sure you are," he replied with conviction. Laura hoped he would kiss her, but he only feigned intent, picked her up in his arms, and carried her to a boat moored nearby. She felt a little disappointed, which was only apparent for a brief moment when Adam stood with his back turned to leave his coat on the bench. As they sailed away from the shore, she found that Jensen had a great idea. Sitting in the boat, she dipped her fingers into the cool water that slid between them gently tickling her skin. All she could think about was here and now, the rest was no longer relevant. "If you keep leaning over like that, Miss Werner, you'll fall into the water," he muttered with amusement. "I am sure you will come with help," she replied. "Of course. A very professional one," he assured her.

The hacker wondered if Adam was flirting with her or if it was just a figment of her imagination. However, she preferred to live in ignorance and enjoy the fact that they were here together. It was just a shame that she was dressed so plainly spoiling the magic of this moment. Jensen, on the other hand, thought she looked lovely because it was unimportant what she was wearing. She exuded an inner glow, a calmness, something that was hard to see every day. When they got back to shore the man helped her get off and moored the boat.

"We should get back, it's getting late," he said slipping his phone into his coat pocket. "One condition..." she didn't have time to finish because Adam picked her up again. "Miss Werner, I'm not the one to whom you make terms," he replied as they walked back over the same tiles. "I'm sure we can come to an agreement somehow..." "Could this be an attempt to bribe an officer on duty? It looks bad Miss Werner, very bad," he muttered still holding her in his arms. "Suppose I agree, hypothetically. What then?"

This time it was she who kissed him, long and tenderly, slowly, non-greedily with longing. She felt his hands embrace her more tightly, felt his fingers clench, felt the dormant desire grow within him to break through, to be like before again. Slowly, with great reluctance, he set Laura down, but he didn't want to go back to the hotel at all.

"Laura... I..." Adam found to his horror that he couldn't squeeze out the simplest request. "I'd like to spend Christmas with you. No matter where it would be."

The hacker was shocked by this confession. She knew it cost him a lot, that he feared her refusal, humiliation, rejection. The last Christmas she remembered she had spent with Damien. She wore a Swedish collar and nothing else. Kratos thought the clothing only disfigured her, and besides, he liked seeing her cut and bruised skin. He said she was a priceless masterpiece and therefore everyone should be able to see it. And they did because his friends and acquaintances showed up at the lavish party. He even invited Joe, threatening to kill Laura if he ignored the request. He arranged a private performance during which she was raped in front of him. He made sure Joe could do nothing but absorb her suffering. Kratos simply let Navras’s fury grow smiling impudently. Laura shook her head, dismissing those nightmarish memories. Now she had a chance at new ones, completely different ones.

"At your place as long as you also let me take Stalker," she replied without much thought. Jensen had been prepared for a refusal, even an argument, and she agreed just like that. "Of course, it's no problem. In the meantime, we really should get back."

Adam went to take a shower as soon as he got back to the hotel, and Laura turned on the computer. The man was unhappy to see her busy at work, but he refrained from voicing his displeasure aloud. The woman raised her head slightly as she watched a half-naked Jensen from above the computer screen. "Miss Werner... You're staring at me," the ex-SWAT muttered amusedly. "As if there was anything interesting to look at," she muttered while pretending to be very busy. The Chief of Security was putting on a t-shirt but stopped in mid-motion, put it down, and walked over to her. "Maybe there is? Don’t you think you should check?" Laura froze with her eyes fixed straight ahead. She knew she couldn't look to the right at any cost. "Could it be an embarrassment, Miss Werner? After all, you've seen everything," he didn't let up as he sat down on the tabletop. "You are smutty, Mr. Jensen," she muttered pretending to be outraged. "Oh, really? But peeping is not a bit smutty?" A cluster of sounds came out of the woman's mouth from which it was hard to put any words together. Adam just laughed and walked away. After that, it was hard for her to finish what she had started, but she had to. Tomorrow was the big day.

When Jensen woke up in the morning, he felt the strange weight on him again. This time he knew it was Laura who had fallen asleep in one of her bizarre positions. This time she was lying perpendicular to Adam with her head snuggled into his belly. Everything would have been fine had it not been for her hand resting freely in a strategic place. With every slightest movement, it caused a tingling in his loins that under other circumstances he would have found pleasant and desirable. Now he felt very uncomfortable. He did not want to wake the woman, so he bravely endured the torture praying that it would end quickly. He breathed when Laura stopped wriggling and tried to fall asleep again cause it was still an early hour. A sudden strong shudder pinned his entire body pulling him out of his half-asleep state. Barely able to catch his breath, he felt like a teenager who too much fantasized in his sleep about his naked girlfriends trying to get into his pants. Fortunately, the hacker woman was no longer lying on his belly, so he got up and went to the bathroom. It had been a long time since he had been this close with a woman, he was beginning to forget how intense the sensations of a simple touch were, he was beginning to forget how pleasurable they could be. He was focused on the daily routine like getting up, brushing teeth, getting dressed, going to work, eating lunch, and coming home. Laura made him realize how much he had lost. He wanted it back, wanted to feel her closeness, the smell of her skin, her hot breath. He wanted to hear the subtle moan of pleasure, to fall asleep with his face snuggled into her neck. But not like this, not so primitively and accidentally. He cooled off in the shower enough to leave the bathroom maintaining an expression on his face that was saying: Nothing had happened.

Laura was already awake, sitting on the bed looking around. "Something wrong?" she carefully asked studying his face and demeanor.

"No, not at all. I couldn't sleep. I usually don't sleep much," he explained trying to remain credible. "You forgot to dry your hair," she pointed out seeing trickles of water running down his arms onto his bare torso. Before he had time to respond she returned with a towel and began gently wiping the man's hair with it. "Stop it,” Adam tried to dodge her next move. “I'll do it myself. I'm not a child," he muttered with displeasure. "You are or you aren't, it doesn't matter. I just wanted to... Anyway, never mind," she sighed pressing the towel into his hands, then went to get dressed. "Laura, wait. I didn't mean…"

The woman left without waiting for his explanation. She was fed up with them. Laura regretted every moment she spent with Adam. Right after returning to her place she took a quick shower and went for a Jog. Fortunately, she did not meet Connor or even worse, Adam in the park. It was about eight o'clock when she returned to the hotel, picked up her laptop, and went downstairs to the restaurant. She ordered tea and a sandwich with tomato, lettuce, bacon, and fried egg. She checked her project knowing that today they were going to test the LED displays. Everything was ready and her excitement was growing. Around nine o'clock she was sitting in the Control Room on the ground floor setting her plan into motion. She could hear employees gathering in the lobby, and she looked outside pleased to find that even Jensen and Connor were already in place.

Showtime!, she thought as she confirmed the file uploading.

A few minutes later, the black screens hung on the walls and lined up on the lobby floor lit up. At first, they showed only a collection of pixels of different colors, but soon the gathered people’s attention was focused on something much more interesting. Laura couldn't miss seeing this for anything in the world.

"It serves you right, slut!" Stevenson's voice had flown from the speakers in the lobby, and a picture of him was shown on the screen. "You thought if you fucked Adam you were better than us?!" the gathering heard MacDowell immediately afterward. "We're supposed to be the main specialists, not some whore who came here recently!"

After this presentation, all the screens showed an animation consisting of the words "Mess with the best. Die like the rest." in blue and red. Immediately after, "Game Over" appeared on a background made of binary code, with a skull above it. The audience was shocked, to say the least. Murmurs of disgust, of anger, tickled Laura's ego. This is how you get things done.

"Great job, bravo," she heard a comment of appreciation from Connor's lips. A few seconds later someone tapped her lightly on the shoulder to get her attention. It was Adam with that classic look of an exemplary officer on duty. "We need to talk. Now," his tone didn't sound the least bit friendly and didn't bode well.

The woman nodded and together they began to clear their way through the crowd until they reached the elevator. During the ride, Adam remained silent, but she could almost feel his fury on her back. Still, it was all the same to her. All she could hear in the hallway was the clatter of their shoes against the stone slabs. It wasn't until behind the closed door that the first words were spoken.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" yelled Jensen, slamming his fists against the desktop.

Get a grip or your vein will rupture, she thought.

"What was I thinking..." she muttered walking around the office. "That the bitch who fucks the Chief of Security isn't going to sit around and listen to their insults." "I made that clear. I'm the one who resolves conflicts. I'm the one on the highest position here, and you..." "Yes, I know I'm a zero who had choked by power. Well, no!" she growled. "I'm the head of my group, and that's how I solve problems whether you like it or not." "Don't forget where you belong and where you came from. Also, don't forget who appointed you to this position. Your rights end where I decide." "You know what? Fuck yourself! If your dick still can get hard," she said. "I wanted to be polite, but you asked for it yourself," he warned. "Only a whore would say words like you just did." Laura wanted to leave however she did the instant u-turn only to slap Adam in the face. The man anticipated her move and grabbed her arm firmly. "You dare trying to hit me again, and we will talk differently."

Navras just stood there and let her vent her anger. "Beat me! Humiliate me! Say dirty things to me. Oh yes, that's just the way I like it," he muttered with amusement while removing his black gloves and tucking them into the pocket of his black fancy-cut coat, which glinted purple in the light. With that gesture, he revealed his cybernetic prosthetic arms. "A little more on the back, please," he said with sarcasm in his voice.

The man hoped that in a moment she would get over it as she usually did, but not this time. He sighed in boredom, seeing that Laura wasn't going to stop beating him at all. Fortunately, he was an aug, so her furious blows were barely a tickle to him. Navras’s dermal armor was absorbing each successive blow, but it was also becoming gradually depleted in a process. Well... Not this time.

"Control yourself, dammit!" he always tried being calm when dealing with Laura, but there came times like this when his patience was abused. "Instead of wasting our time and your strength you better tell me what's going on here."

Laura, tired of blowing off steam at Joe, looked at him with the gaze of a spoiled brat, then suddenly she wrapped her arms around his waist tightly and snuggled in. The man sighed again, put his arms around her, and tousled Laura’s hair, now tied in a high ponytail. He was about twelve inches taller than her, but that didn't bother him at all.

"Unfortunately I don't have much time. Coming here was very risky anyway, but I had to do it," he said in a bass-baritone voice that could be deep and after a while makes her shiver with its lightness. Laura loved listening to him in every version, and he knew it perfectly well.

In silence, they walked together to the living room and sat on the violet sofa close to each other. Joe didn't want her to turn on the light. Laura had a gut feeling he was as afraid of what was coming as she was, but he didn't say it out loud because he wanted to be strong for her. He had always been like that – steadfast, concealing fear, mysterious. She had known Joe for so long, and knew very little about him, while Joe knew all of her secrets. The woman cuddled up to him quite freely, inhaling the oriental-spicy scent of the perfumed water with the top note of ginger. He had used it since they met. Navras leaned comfortably against the backrest of the sofa tilting his head slightly back. Laura noticed he was still pinning up the dark brown hair on top of his head into something resembling a bun, leaving a few loose strands that fell freely, accentuating his well-defined cheekbones. He hadn't given up the braid on the left side of his head either. Joe was just as she remembered him, completely as if time had stopped for him. Navras gave himself and her some more time because he didn't know when or if they would ever see each other again.

"Kratos is hunting me," Laura said quietly. She hoped he would care about what she said, that he would at least be interested in this fact. Miss Werner was aware of his cold indifference which was only apparent.

"I know little one. He tracked me down too," he muttered, reluctantly taking up the subject. "I have to disappear once again. That's why I came." Joe felt her hand tighten on his loose, light violet  shirt. He knew he was causing her pain because Laura was hoping for something completely different. It was selfish, but he had to see Evie before leaving forever.

"Don't leave me... Please… Adam doesn't want me either because I'm a rag and slut. Kratos is threatening me. I've been raped, nothing makes sense, and you only came here to tell me that you’re leaving," she said in a voice full of regret, one that moved him to his core. Nevertheless, he had to stick to what he decided.

"Believe me or not, but of all the people you know, I understand your situation best. I've been there for you, lived through those moments, and shared your pain. Now I must disappear. If you care for me, you will let me go. I wouldn’t do that if it wasn’t serious. Trust me," Joe was able to adjust his voice perfectly to help him get the right message.

„We can solve our problems together as we always did. I will help you as much as I can. I…"

„No, Evie," Navras stopped her from ending the sentence. He knew the words that would come next. She would beg him, and that was something Joe didn’t want to hear.

"Say you'll come back at least. Please say it, promise me. I must have a hope I can cling to! I must have ANYTHING!" Laura’s voice was unbearable to him. That scream tore Navras apart, but on the surface he was indifferent, he had to. "I need to have anything to… stay alive," she said quietly.

"Evie..." he interrupted her firmly. "I would like to give you the whole universe, but that’s beyond my power. I would like to say what you want to hear, but that would be cheating. I don't know what turn events will take. Be strong, I know you can."

Laura hugged him tighter and began sobbing like a child. Navras looked at her with a violet gaze of synthetic eyes. After a moment his cybernetic fingers began softly wiping the tears from her cheeks, soon his fingers were replaced by his soft, warm, thin lips. The woman wanted to protest, but in the end, yielded to him. If this indeed is their last meeting, she won't take those few moments of happiness away from Navras. The man's lips slowly slid down her cheek then joined with her’s in a long, farewell kiss. His beard scratched her skin just as it had before, and had the exact same shape. It started under his lower lip just in the middle. The narrow, dark brown strip was reaching his chin and splitting in both directions along his jawline to curl up just at the corners of his mouth. Joe didn't have a mustache, though Evie had told him many times that he should grow one.

"Joe..." she wanted to say something but Navras put his index finger on her lips.

"I know, Evie. Forgive me for this weakness," he whispered.

She wanted to tell him she had decided to find Kratos and return to him for everyone's sake, but she knew he would want to stop her. Therefore, she remained silent. Navras was right, it was their last meeting, but he would not die, and neither would Adam, though she hated him now with all her heart. No one would ever die because of her again.

"And by the way, I'm not small at all," she muttered offendedly.

Joe smiled squinting. He regretted they had to end up in such dark and hostile times again. He wished he could change it, but he didn't have that power. Even all of the augmentations that were done to him in the past didn't make Navras a god. He was still a mere mortal.

"Remember when you said that someday we would go somewhere far away, to the other end of the world?" she asked, lying on her back and resting her head on his thighs.

"Mhm. It was a long time ago. We were young and..." he sighed in exasperation. "Evie, please don't be a child. You need to leave your dreams locked tight behind the gates of that fairy castle along with carefree life," his voice was now a rough, fatherly tone, the one that always brought her down to earth and let her endure anything.

"You were not the one sitting in the basement, chained to the wall. You were not the one being raped by Kratos and his fucked-up friends over and over again through… years. You weren't the one left alone in the world and you weren't the one abandoned by someone you started to trust," she pointed out mercilessly.

Each of those words really hurt him. The woman was right, she had been through hell, which is now claiming her again. But through all this time, she had not understood one simple thing; there were others in this world, not far away, whose lives were not all roses too. That's why it irritated him so much when she constantly emphasized her grievances. That was why he preferred to remain silent rather than argue with her.

"Yes, not me," he replied, choosing his words carefully to get out of this conversation without conflict.

Evie shifted uneasily. She wanted to get up, but he wouldn't let her, gently yet suggestively catching her by the shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Joe... It was selfish, I didn't mean..." she tried explaining herself somehow, but she had no adequate argument to justify her stupidity.

"Stop it, or I'll kiss you again," he threatened her, this time trying to joke.

She wanted to say: "Adam would punch you hard in the teeth for this," but remembered Adam was gone and he wouldn't come back. Laura remembered how fleeting happiness can be. One day it's there, the next it dies in an accident. One day you see it as breakfast, a smile, or a crazy party, the next it's killed by fire. This should have taught her to appreciate small gestures, but it made her run away from everything good.

"Do you like me a little bit at least?" she asked looking at his face when Joe intertwined his hands at the nape of his neck.

"No," he answered shortly. He knew what was about to happen.

"OK, whatever..." she burbled displeased, and turned her back on him.

Navras laughed out loud. He deliberately provoked her to such behavior because he liked to see her offended expression.

"You're asking stupid questions, you know?"

"Mhm."

"One good thing," he muttered amusedly.

"And don't call me Evie."

"Why? After all, that's your name," the man raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Here I am Laura. No one knows that's a fake name," she explained as briefly as possible.

"What have you gotten yourself into this time? Don’t you have enough problems with Kratos?" Navras raised his voice slightly. He had hoped he would be able to walk away from here with the peace of mind that Evie was doing well. Meanwhile, Damien was hunting her, and she still managed to find herself new problems.

"Nothing special, just a broken contract," Laura changed position back to sitting and pulling bent legs to the belly she shrugged. "The superiors will probably claim for their own soon, but I don't care," her voice was carefree.

"What are you talking about?! What superiors?!" he was furious now.

"They didn't introduce themselves, everything was a top-secret and hush-hush basis. I was supposed to gather intel from Sarif Industries, and that was it. I met Adam in the middle of the task and well…fucked it up," she explained as briefly as she could.

"Evie..."

"Laura!" she interrupted him. "Learn at last."

"I don't have to, but so be it, Laura. Why did you break your contract?" he asked, not really understanding what Adam had to do with all this.

"Because after a while I found it strange they wanted anything from me and didn't have specific guidelines. Besides, the Chief of Security was nice to me and I didn't feel right spying behind his back."

Her explanation did not satisfy him at all. "The hacker's job isn't like walking in the park and holding hand with your sweetheart. You have to be more resilient, otherwise, you will give up the task because of anyone who is nice. Then you expose yourself to someone on the top and then what?"

"You're right, Joe," she admitted with a quiet sigh. "This was an exceptional situation. You know I always get things done," she continued trying to defend herself.

"Yeah, I remember one of our contracts very well. Alex saved our asses back then because you insisted on stealing the data no matter what," he reminded her of the old days. "Police, half of the security, two local gangs..."

"And that mad butcher with his dog," she completed the list. "Come on… The big fuss of nothing," she waved her hand carelessly. "Only one little boom."

"Oh, of course. The tiny explosion that blew up a subway station, a chunk of the sewers, the bigger one, and an entire research facility. Everything looked like New Year's Eve fireworks in Dubai."

"Lovely view. It's not my fault that Alex likes to act with a flourish," she shrugged. "And do you have any info from him at all?"

"Unfortunately he went underground which is quite disturbing knowing his ideas," Joe stated, though it was hard to sense if he was worried. His voice masked his emotions well.

"Like that chain of grenades to stop an armored truck?"

"More like firing a bazooka straight into the wall, behind which they kept the tankers filled with flammable materials."

"Those were the days. Nothing could stop or separate us," she daydreamed under the influence of the memories. "Long live my lame hospitality. I didn't even ask if you wanted coffee or tea. Maybe you are hungry?" she asked embarrassed. "Although I can tell by your belly that you're not starving," she stated teasing him.

"Thank you for the offer, but I should be going anyway," he replied quietly. "Besides, I don't have a fatty belly at all, just well-sculpted muscles."

"Mhm, as soft as a pillow."

In response, he began tickling her mercilessly and didn't stop until she was out of breath from the non-stop laughter. Navras felt so comfortable in her company that he was in no hurry to leave at all. Anyway, he had to wait until the woman went somewhere or fell asleep. He already had the opportunity, but he missed it. The clock chimed midnight, Laura yawned.

"Get some sleep. You're tired," he suggested with concern in his voice.

"Not at all."

Navras didn't reply just started humming a song she knew well.

Sleep, sugar, let your dreams flood in Like waves of sweet fire, you're safe within Sleep, sweetie, let your floods come rushing in And carry you over to a new morning

After a while, the woman was already asleep as if he had cast a spell on her. Joe smiled as he looked at her calm face.

"Goodbye, Little Orchid," he whispered, stroking her hair.

Laura woke up as the clock chimed the full hour. She didn't have a phone near so she had to get up to check what time it was. She rubbed her eyes noticing that Joe had covered her with a blanket and made her lay comfortably on the sofa.

"Navras are you here?" her question remained unanswered. "Joe?!" she ran around the house looking for him but was left alone.

The faint lights entering the living room through the windows illuminated her depressed face. Everyone was gone, there was nothing left. Laura crossed her arms over her chest and lowered her gaze. She missed Adam, so damn much that her whole body ached. What he had said to her, all those words couldn't be what he thought. Evie didn't know him very well, but still, this sudden turn in behavior was strange. When she looked to her left, she noticed that the same flier she had gotten at The Jackdaw was lying on the coffee table. Suddenly she realized that the man in the hoodie who was sitting by the window and the one who had bumped into her was one person. The one who had just left. She was angry at herself for being unable to link such simple things. Laura let Navras go without the second thought.

It was only seventeen minutes to four in the morning when Miss Werner decided to return to Faridah. She changed into her jeans and the random sweater, swapped her shoes for comfortable boots, picked up her coat, and left. Closing the door, she thought about how Joe had managed to get in at all. When asked, he would probably reply that he had his ways. It was still dark outside, the lights of the lanterns barely illuminated the darkness, one of them was flickering on and off with a loud hiss and crackle. Instinctively she looked up, but the shutters at Adam's apartment were lowered. On the way to Malik's apartment, several drunken men passed her. One of them grabbed her arm, mumbling something unintelligible. She jerked away and quickened her pace.

Fortunately, Laura knew the entrance code, or else she would have been sitting by the door until morning. She typed it in and carefully opened the door. The woman quietly took off her shoes and coat, then slowly walked into the living room. Evie decided to sleep on the couch so as not to wake Faridah in the middle of the night. She reached the table where they were eating their meals when suddenly the light came on.

"Where have you been all this time?" she heard Malik's voice, not at all pleased. "I was worried about you! You are irresponsible and selfish!" she growled furiously.

"I left my phone at the company," she lied. "Then I went to my place," Laura replied with a depressed voice.

"And now you will tell me what happened between you and Adam," she insisted, not giving her friend the opportunity to retreat.

"Nothing," she muttered, wanting to go to the bedroom.

"Oh no. Come sit next to me. Neither of us is going to bed until I know the truth."

"Faridah..." she sighed.

"Don't Faridah me. This is a serious matter."

Laura reluctantly walked closer and sat down on the sofa. The mere thought of telling everything that had happened between her and Jensen made Laura’s hands began to tremble. And the memory of what Kratos was doing to her made her nauseous. Malik gave Laura no choice. Even if she tried withholding some of the information, sooner or later Fly Girl would find out everything. It would be even worse because she would break her fragile trust. The woman sighed loudly feeling her friend's urging gaze.

"Let's start with the fact that you should know what Adam already does. I didn't want to tell him, but he insisted," Laura didn't know what to do with her hands. First, she kept them bent on the knees, then she hid them behind her back, and finally intertwined them on her chest. "Damien was raping me," she said after a moment.

The words continued to flow on their own, merging into a stream of hot, black tar that seemed to stick to the entire room. Faridah hoped it was some kind of sick dream, and Laura was about to say: "It is just a fragment cut from a movie I had once seen." Malik already knew everything would change after that night. Miss Werner was very thorough in her story. She recalled what, where and how they did to her, she talked about the collar, the humiliation, blood, and the pain. They treated her worse than an animal so no wonder it was so hard for her to trust anyone now. Especially Adam, who at first is very rough with new people he meets and sometimes even with friends. The whole story overwhelmed the Chief of Pilots. She wanted to ask how Laura got out of there and who helped her rebuild her disturbed psyche, but she gave up. The rest of the story didn't get any better. Faridah flew into a rage.

"How could he say something like that after you opened up to him?!" she screamed waking up the cat.

"Faridah... Look at it realistically," she said quietly. "I'm just a regular slut. I can't compare to Megan. Imagine how Adam must feel and his shame when he introduces me to someone. I should have told him earlier," her voice broke and she started to cry.

"That doesn't explain him. He's not like that. First of all, if he wanted to break up, he wouldn't point out to anyone where he belongs. Try to talk with him tomorrow. One last time," she encouraged her and handed her a tissue.

"All in all, I have nothing to lose anyway. I won't fall any lower."

"Let's go to sleep. You'll be worrying tomorrow," she said, putting her arm around her.

"Go first, I'll be there in a minute," she replied, wiping her eyes.

Malik nodded and went to the bedroom. Laura didn't want to go to sleep at all, so she searched the fridge and all the cupboards in the kitchen. When she gathered everything that was needed, she thought about baking some kanelbulle. After finishing, the auburn-haired woman picked up her laptop and continued writing the security code for Washington until morning. A moment ago she was looking forward to this trip, and now it is the worst that could happen to her.

As soon as Faridah got up, she shouted at Laura, reminding her that she should take care of herself and not overwork as recommended by the doctor. Firstly Laura didn't listen to her at all, and secondly, the smell of kanelbulle calmed down Fly Girl immediately.

"Take some of these goodies and give them to Adam. They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Maybe then he'll tell you what's going on," she encouraged, even though she did not believe it would change anything.

"That's a good idea," she nodded completely indifferently. Laura sat with a bowl of Crunchy Pirate in front of her but ate barely two spoons.

The thought of going to the company terrified her and talking to Jensen unleashed the urge to crawl under the carpet and not come out until she died. Before leaving, Laura put some kanelbulle into the orange cardboard box where she had placed the napkin earlier. She closed it and tied it with a ribbon.

Malik didn't know what they could talk about, so they were silent the whole way. Washington, Adam, ball, all those topics were forbidden now.

"Laura, I just remembered something," she spoke up once they were walking down the street.

"Mmm?" she only muttered, looking straight ahead.

"I have a ticket to the cinema for Saturday's showing of ‘The Good, The Bad And The Ugly.’ I won't be able to go because Sarif has an important flight. Why don't you go instead of me?" she lied because she wanted to comfort her somehow.

At first, Laura didn't feel like going out at all, but eventually, she decided it was better than sitting at home and thinking. The woman squeezed the box tighter in her hands after each step she took as she walked through the lobby.

"Don't be so nervous, or you'll ruin your present. Have faith," she encouraged Laura and patted her lightly on the back as they parted on the second floor.

Miss Werner went up the stairs to the third floor and after a while down the corridor. She already saw Adam's glass office, so she slowed down. Once she was close, she noticed Adam and Megan coming out from the inside. They couldn't see her because she was approaching them from behind.

"So we'll see each other at the ball?" asked Dr. Reed.

"Yes, of course. I'll be very pleased," Jensen replied, escorting the woman to the elevator.

Laura stood motionless not far from the office entrance. When Adam turned around and walked closer, he noticed her. The auburn-haired woman was piercing him with an emerald gaze full of flowing tears. Jensen saw her trembling hands from which an orange box had fallen. He didn't have time to catch it. The ex-SWAT also didn't have time to react either because Laura immediately ran away. The Chief of Security crouched down and picked up what she had left. The ribbon prevented the content from falling out onto the floor. The smell of cinnamon made him immediately guess everything. She came to him after everything he told her. She came to see him with Megan and find out that he was going to the ball with her. It wasn't supposed to be this way, not at all. Jensen locked himself in the office, put the box on the desk, and brewed a mug of coffee. He sat in the armchair, wondering what to do. Finally, Adam slowly untied the ribbon, removed the lid, and gently took out one of the kanelbulle. After closing his eyes took a bite. It didn't taste as great as it did in Uppsala. It was bitter, more and more with each bite. Adam ate all four very slowly. He treated them like a punishment, like a lash of the whip on his bare skin. One bite – one scar. Something inside him was slowly dying.

"I never asked for this..." he whispered to himself and his hand clenched into a fist.

Unfortunately, Sarif hadn't given him the day off so Adam had to postpone his meeting with Rupert until the afternoon. Persevering for those few hours was extremely difficult. Fortunately, he didn't have to discuss anything with Laura today. Jensen had already been thinking about how he would manage to cope in Washington, but at the meeting, they had agreed they would work as two independent groups, so their contact would be cut to a minimum. That's just a small consolation. The mere sight of Laura triggers the impulses in him that he must restrain, strangle and kill for her safety. If only he had a clue, an anchor point, anything. Even while working as a police officer, he had never felt as helpless as he does now. Suddenly, like a pack of rabid dogs, the thoughts about whether he had done the right thing by listening to this psychopath caught Adam up. Maybe he had just opened the way for him to abduct Laura? Avoiding her in fact only makes the whole process easier, but how can he be close and yet keep the distance?

Miss Werner ran to her office. She was fed up with this company, the people, and most of all, Adam's lies. She had already made the only right decision. Laura booted the computer pressing the button furiously. She had the impression that today it was starting up exceptionally slowly as if it was doing that to spite her. Evie cursed under her breath a dozen times. She wanted to see Jensen dead at her feet. She wanted to see him bleed slowly and in agony. She wanted to see him suffer as she does. She wanted… She wanted everything to be like before again. Back then, when they slept in bed together, it was so magical and amazing. Yes, she would like to move farther if she had the opportunity if they both wanted it, but the most important thing was his closeness. Breath hot like a dragon’s breath on her naked skin, warmth as he hugged her, tickling of his beard. She even liked it when the scent of his perfumed water mixed with the smell of sweat. She remembered perfectly those sensual and mysterious citrus notes, a bit bitter and tart but broken with a hint of vanilla, there was also something spicy in them. Laura knew how it would all end, and yet she let herself be drawn in and enslaved by his gray-blue gaze and soft, wonderful lips. After a few deep breaths, she began to write what she should have finished long ago. Moments later, with a page of the paper, printed with rows of words, she was walking briskly to Pritchard's office. Evie was determined and was not going to back down. She didn't even knock, she did no longer care about it.

"Princess Laura forgot to knock?" Pritchard greeted her from behind the desk.

"I don't give a shit if I should knock or not," she growled. "I won't waste your time, so let's get it over with."

Frank got up from his armchair, walked over to the devices, the same ones she had once helped him fix, and checked the cables while mumbling under his breath. "You're already wasting it anyway by being here for some unknown reason, and better mind your tongue. You're lucky I'm in a relatively good mood today so I'll forgive you this impertinence. What do you want?" he got a little interested.

"No big deal," she shrugged. "Just read these few words," she said, handing him a piece of paper.

"Did you bring that corrected fragment which was fucked up by your subordinate?" Pritchard was almost happy, or at least his expression was different from the usual grimace of anger, disgust, and indifference.

Laura watched how Francis swallows the text, word by word, with his hungry eyes, frowning, squinting, and twisting his lips in a grimace of rage.

"No way!" he yelled. "I don't agree to any termination; you understand?!" Frank furiously tore apart the piece of paper. He nearly threw it on the ground and started jumping all over it.

"That's my right. I want to leave and that's it," Laura insisted. "I have to be here for three more months anyway."

"Listen to me, you brat! You have to stay at this company because I will not tolerate such bratty behavior! You WILL fly to Washington and get the job done. Then you WILL politely go to the ball even alone if Adam doesn't want to invite you," he hissed. "Well I don’t think he does," Pritchard added. "That is an ORDER! Understand?" It was a long time since he was as angry as he is today. Even Jensen had not managed to bring him to such a state.

Laura lost her temper and slapped him in the face with an open hand. "I will not go to any ball. Forget it," she ended the conversation, slamming the door behind her.

"Wait! I'm not done with you yet! " screamed Frank, rubbing his cheek.

The woman heard him perfectly as she walked along the corridor. She reached out her hand towards his office, showing the middle finger. Pritchard decided not to leave this matter and unleash hell. He knew who was responsible for what had happened and was going to take appropriate consequences. Hacker immediately went to Jensen's office and rumbled on the door for a good ten minutes before the ex-SWAT decided to give up and open the door.

"Listen, flatfoot, ex-cop, plague, and asshole! A moment ago Laura was at my office and handed me a piece of paper," he said in a raised voice.

"So what?"Adam muttered. He pretended to write something by tapping on the keyboard keys.

"It was her TERMINATION!" Francis yelled.

"Oh… Well, I am not surprised. Working with someone like you, Frank, is demanding. But it’s still not my concern."

"It IS your concern! You are the one responsible for all this, not me. So you will go to her now, say whatever you see fit, but the effect is to be as follows: Laura will stay at the company, take care of Washington as good as she can, and then politely go to the ball. Because that's the way it's supposed to be. That's all."

"You forgot about something," he said in an indifferent tone.

"About what, smart guy?!"

"Stomping your foot."

"Stop being cheeky! You know Sarif will gut us all out if anything goes wrong. Laura's trying to sabotage everything right now, and she's certainly doing it because of you."

In fact, everything that Pritchard said was the truth, but Jensen couldn’t admit it aloud. It wasn’t easy for him to just sit and listen that Laura is leaving because of his actions. Adam cared and care is not always fluffy and nice. If only he could predict Miss Werner's actions, he would try to prevent all of this from happening. It is very possible they will never see each other again. It won't be a few days, a week, a month. It means a whole life spent drowning in the midst of remorse. He wouldn't be able to live like this.

"She's your subordinate, do something yourself. If you can't control your employees then you're a lousy boss," he kept going, even though he now wanted to run out of the office straight to Laura and tell her to stay.

"You'll see I will. I won't leave it like that," Pritchard growled, and left, hitting Faridah who was just walking towards Adam’s office.

Malik decided she'd better knock because of screams heard before. Yes, both Jensen and Pritchard never got along, but the situation was extremely strange.

"I'm not interrupting?" she asked, ajar the door.

"Did you come to yell at me too?" he muttered.

"Depends on what you've romped," she tried to joke, but Jensen didn't look like he was in the mood for it.

"Don't pretend, after all, you already know that Laura gave Pritchard her termination, and he came to me with it."

"She did what?!" Malik raised her voice.

"Great, that means you're going to take it out on me too," the ex-SWAT sighed.

"I should because what you told her was, to say the least, inappropriate. If, on the other hand, I am not to play with choosing nice words; you acted like a motherfucker.

"It's still none of your business, much less Francis'."

Malik walked to the desk and sat down on it. "You know very well it's different. Uppsala changed us, carried us to a new phase, bound. Back then we were able to…"

"That was then, this is now. Past is in the past. If that's all, please leave." Faridah noticed the orange cardboard box standing on the cabinet behind him. It was empty. She wondered if they had been talking or if something else had taken place.

"Okay, but when I cross the threshold you might consider you just lost another person. If you can live with that, no problem," her tone was a mixture of icy indifference and reproach.

Adam knew she was not joking, and he needed help. He had to keep her at least, have Fly Girl on his side. Before he made up his mind, the woman was gone. Time was slowing down, torturing him and punishing him for what he had done. Jensen hardly survived until he could leave the company. He didn't go to lunch because of Laura, but he didn't feel hungry anyway. The urge to smoke grew more and more, but the Head of Security decided not to smoke before meeting with Rupert.

Detroit. Rupert MacKenzie’s house.

Adam closed the office and walked briskly across the hall. He ran down the stairs, entering the lobby in a split second. On his way through, around the desk, he answered Cindy's goodbye, not wanting to be rude. Jensen pulled up the left sleeve of his black coat and then brown sweater intending to check what time it was. He had a smartphone with him, but the old-fashioned part of his personality that was attached to traditional solutions spoke up. Another reason was that the smartphone remained turned off in order to limit any possible attempts to spy on him. Jensen decided to take the subway because Rupert lived in west Detroit, too far from the company, so walking was out of the question. When the ex-SWAT arrived at the station, he looked up at the electronic display, that informed which number was to come, which departed, and which would be in a few or so minutes. There were not many people on the platform, some of them standing, others sitting on a bench against the wall. The girl standing a bit behind Adam laughed when her friend told her a joke. Jensen was lucky because he reached the station just minutes before his line arrived. Keeping his hands in the pockets of his coat, he went inside and immediately headed to the very end of the wagon. There was no one there. Adam sat down, plugged earphones into the MP3 player, and closed his eyes. Soon the door closed with a hiss, and the Head of Security felt that they were finally on the move.

If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one Drying in the colour of the evening sun Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away But something in our minds will always stay Perhaps this final act was meant To clinch a lifetime's argument That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could For all those born beneath an angry star Lest we forget how fragile we are

On and on the rain will fall Like tears from a star like tears from a star On and on the rain will say How fragile we are how fragile we are

On and on the rain will fall Like tears from a star like tears from a star On and on the rain will say How fragile we are how fragile we are How fragile we are how fragile we are

For half an hour of the ride, he thought about what Laura had told him. He analyzed all the information again and sighed heavily. Miss Werner lost her parents when she was practically still a child. He didn't know who raised her, but he certainly couldn't replace her real family. Then there was Damien who kept her in a basement, raped her, humiliated her, and sold her like an object. Laura was most likely deprived of true love and care. Once she received it from him, she was again abandoned like a broken doll. He would not and could not justify himself. He had acted meanly.

He deals the cards as a meditation And those he plays never suspect He doesn't play for the money he wins He don't play for respect

He deals the cards to find the answer The sacred geometry of chance The hidden law of a probable outcome The numbers lead a dance

I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier I know that the clubs are weapons of war I know that diamonds mean money for this art But that's not the shape of my heart

He may play the jack of diamonds He may lay the queen of spades He may conceal a king in his hand While the memory of it fades

I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier I know that the clubs are weapons of war I know that diamonds mean money for this art But that's not the shape of my heart That's not the shape The shape of my heart

If I told her that I loved you You'd maybe think there's something wrong I'm not a man of too many faces The mask I wear is one

But those who speak know nothing And find out to their cost Like those who curse their luck in too many places And those who fear are lost

Three short bell-like sounds signaled that they had reached the destination. Adam got up from his seat and got out of the subway wagon. He crossed the platform, squeezing through the thickening crowd, and climbed the stairs. He found himself on a long street on either side of which stood rows of red brick houses with white windows and box gabled roofs. Jensen remembered perfectly where Rupert lived, although it had been some time since his last visit. After a few minutes of brisk walking, he arrived at number 101. Two low stairs led to a small, square, covered porch.

The man pressed the doorbell, and a moment later a cheerful female voice could be heard from the inside. "Just a second, Mr. Jensen!"

It still amazed Adam how Demelza knew it was him and not someone else. Yes, he had an appointment for an exact time, but that does not exclude the possibility that someone else could come at the same time. Mrs. MacKenzie, who had just opened the door for him, was a fairly corpulent woman, close in age to Rupert, who was in his mid-fifties. She had curly red hair tied up in a bun at the back of her head, blue eyes that seemed to be laughing, and full lips embedded in a face with a pale pink complexion. She was wearing a flowery green dress and was wiping her hands on a frill-decorated kitchen apron.

"Rupert is already waiting. I'm glad you finally visited us. I baked cookies. You can't refuse," she said in a singsong voice as she led him through the narrow, long hall along which were the doors to the rooms. The walls were made of gray stones of various shapes and sizes and covered with portraits of ancestors, clan coats of arms, and deer antlers hanging on them. Several dark wood cabinets stood there as well, with decorative vases and bowls on them. Adam took off his coat, already wanting to hang it on the coat rack, but the woman interrupted him in mid-motion.

"And don't worry about the vase, boy."

"What v..." he did not finish because while hanging his coat he had just hit one of them. The vase fell to the wooden floor, shattering to pieces just like his life. "Sorry, I'll try to buy it back."

"I told you – don't worry," she reminded. "I have to watch the cookies. You know the way, right?" she asked, staring at his embarrassed face.

"Yes, of course," he replied, walking slowly towards the door in front of him.

Above them was a wooden plaque with an inscription: Temet Nosce carved on it. Adam was pretty sure he saw a similar one somewhere before. After a while, he recalled it was at Laura's apartment above the entrance to the kitchen. Jensen hesitated for a moment before finally knocking.

"Oh come in Adam and stop with these games of politeness," muttered an offended MacKenzie in a Scottish accent when Jensen entered the study. He actually preferred the Gaelic version: MacCoinnich, but he had to get used to the more common one.

"Yes, I know, forgive me. It's been a while since I've been here. My habits from the company spoke up," he tried to explain.

"Adam..." sighed the man sitting behind the massive desk, removing his thin-rimmed glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "You'd better sit down before you come up with something stupid again," he said with a hint of playful annoyance, pointing an armchair upholstered in dark green fabric placed across from him. "Unless you'd prefer the standard session on the chaise longue," he offered, pointing the piece of furniture standing more against the wall by the bookshelves that reached up to the ceiling.

Rupert had gathered here an impressive collection of books containing some unique specimens. He was interested in history, geography, he read crime novels and horror stories, he reached for fantasy, but he did not touch psychological books for anything in the world. Of course, this concerned the non-professional sphere. Because when it comes to the professional part of him, he had read most of the literature about the human mind, behavior, or impulses that stimulate them.

"How was your day?" Rupert asked, which did not remind Jensen at all that he was visiting a psychologist at the moment. It always seemed to him that such a visit was mostly about answering a series of questions, looking at pictures of awkward shapes, and completing tests. The Scot completely changed his perception of this area of medicine.

"Fatally," he replied briefly but truthfully. MacKenzie could sense when he was lying so there was no point in concealing anything. Besides, he came to him for help, so he should be honest with himself first and foremost.

Rupert frowned, seeing that Adam wants to but cannot tell him everything. "I know a better place to talk," he said in a friendly tone in which even a shadow of a professional note could hardly be found. "Come with me, please," he encouraged with a hand gesture, rising from behind his desk.

On the left side of the study, was a narrow passage leading to the other part of the library where two armchairs stood, the same as the one Adam had sat in earlier. Between them stood a table and on it a lamp with a white pleated lampshade. MacKenzie walked freely, holding his hands behind his back. He was wearing tartan trousers having a green and dark blue pattern with white and red lines crossing each other. The man fixed the sleeves of a loose, light cream-colored linen shirt laced at the neck. Jensen looked at the brooch pinned to it depicting a flaming mountain surrounded by a belt with a gold buckle with the inscription: Luceo non uro, which meant: I shine not burn. When they sat down in the armchairs, Rupert reached for his pipe and lit it with almost ritualistic gestures. The ex-SWAT admired Scot for paying attention to such small things, which for him were common. Rupert did not smoke because he wanted to kill problems with it, he treated it as a form of art, celebrating the moment, savoring the aroma of tobacco. Before they started talking Demelza brought on a tray a plate of the freshly baked raisin and chocolate cookies, two porcelain cups, a jug with milk, a teapot of tea, and a sugar bowl. The not very tall woman did not say a word. She gave them both a cheerful smile once she had arranged everything on the table and left. This was another surprise for the Chief of Security. The woman knew perfectly well when she should enter in order not to disturb or hear something she should not know.

The Scot unhurriedly poured tea into cups. "Some milk?" he asked, to which Adam nodded affirmatively.

Jensen stirred the tea slightly with a silver spoon and set it down on a saucer, which he picked up along with the cup. He slowly took a few sips and closed his eyes. He did not know where to start and how to say it so that it was true, but at the same time not reveal everything. He was afraid he might expose Rupert as well, and he would not want that. "I doubt if anyone can help me," he muttered looking across towards the bookcase. The books were arranged thematically and then in alphabetical order. The most valuable specimens were enclosed in glass display cases, and copies took their place among the rest of the book collection.

"The lost boy doubts before he told me anything. Such little is your faith in people?" he asked with a note of indignation in his voice.

"It is all terribly complicated. I don't know what I should do. I care about someone pretty damn much, maybe even too much," he confessed quietly, leaning back comfortably against the backrest of the armchair. "Unfortunately for her sake I had to give up my feelings and stay away. I'm the only one who knows the truth, the others think I'm a monster."

MacKenzie mused for a long moment. He took a few sips of tea. "Try the cookies first, then I'll tell you something."

Adam wanted to say he didn't want those damn cookies, or tea, much less sitting around wasting time when Laura might be in danger. The Scot's narrow lips twisted into a slight smile, and his high forehead wrinkled lightly. The man ran his fingers through his red-gold short hair, which was always tousled. He knew Jensen was consumed with anger right now, that he was drowning in helplessness and frustration. He had to wait it out or else his story would just be words thrown to the wind like a handful of feathers, and he did not like to talk pointlessly. Rupert looked to his left towards the window, it was slowly getting darker, but not yet enough to turn on the light. The remnants of the sun were coming through the window in narrow streams, illuminating a few spots on the brown carpet. The neighborhood was unusually quiet as if Scot's house was in some other dimension.

Jensen reached for a cookie that instantly reminded him of the kanelbulle. He was unaware that the Scot, even by the way Adam held and ate the cookie, could read what he was feeling and thinking at any given moment.

"Sweets must be associated with pleasant memories," he stated in a measured tone that had the calmness and matter-of-factness of a psychologist. "At the same time, they cause you pain, why?"

"L... She..." he began, but Rupert interrupted him immediately.

"She has a name," his voice took on a roughness. "In this case it is important."

"Laura baked some kanelbulle while we were in Sweden. It was only two days, and I have a feeling that at least ten years have passed. It's been a long time since I felt so wonderful and alive," Adam began to open up to the therapist.

"And yet you fell and burned your wings," remarked the man while biting his cookie.

"I fell, but not of my own free will. I was forced to do this," he admitted openly, though he didn't want to.

"Listen to me, boy. I'm going to tell you something, and you will do what you want with it because I can't dictate to you how to interpret my words," MacKenzie glanced at the Chief of Security, who nodded slowly. "Not much more than thirty years ago there was a boy who was becoming a man. This boy soon met a pretty girl whom he loved with all his heart and soul. They met at every possible opportunity, celebrated every moment as if it were their last. They were planning a long life together somewhere in Scotland with a bunch of children by their side, beyond any civilization," he paused for a moment, taking another sip of the already chilled tea. "Everything was like a fairy tale, but when he came to her with the ring on which he had spent most of his savings, he saw her lovely pale pink, freckled face all in tears. In one moment he realized something bad had happened."

Adam listened attentively, casting all his problems aside. He focused his gaze on the framed photos standing on the shelf between the books. They looked like family photos.

"The girl was promised to be a wife, and her husband supposed to be some rich man over twenty years older than her. The boy was forbidden to see her. He wanted his beloved back, but he didn't know how to do that. He faced a force beyond his power, so he fell into the darkness. The boy raised sturdy walls around him and pushed away everyone close to him. When he thought all was lost, his friend came to him. At first, he furiously reminded the boy of how foolish and selfish he was, then they had a very long conversation. His friend told him one thing before leaving: United we stand and divided we fall," Rupert paused again, this time reaching for a cookie. "It was he who gave him strength. He had contacts, had unused favors with them, he pulled all possible strings, and thanks to that they managed to win the fight. The boy regained his beloved, but the rich man hurt her severely, so their dream of children was lost. Nevertheless, they are still together and have an affection that nothing can destroy."

"You were talking about yourself and Demelza, right?" Jensen asked quietly when the psychologist finished telling his story.

"It doesn't matter, Adam," Rupert let out a long sigh, focusing on the Chief of Security's face. "If you have friends, go to them. If you love – fight for it to the end."

"The last person I could call my friend left me this morning," he muttered.

Rupert shook his head, intertwining his arms across his chest. "True friends don't just go away. They only give us signs that we are straying. They always are and always will be. They wait when we realize our mistakes and learn from them."

"You still don't understand, do you? That's what friends do – they help each other." Adam was stroke by a memory of Laura’s words. What did he do for her? First promised to move heaven and earth, hire the police, SWAT, FBI, CIA even the INTERPOL and in the end, he abandoned her. The man bit his lip hardly in grief.

MacKenzie looked at the Chief of Security in silence, but with a smile. That sadness and grief were a sign of catharsis, understanding, and moving on. The lost boy’s wings are healing and soon he will be ready to fly again.

When they had finished drinking their tea, the Scot walked to the key-locked cupboard on the far-right side of the room. He took out a bottle of Girvan 47-Year-Old whisky and two glasses. Rupert poured the beverage into both of them, raising his glass in a gesture of silent toast to what each of them wished.

"How are you feeling now?" he asked savoring a sip of whisky.

"Better. I think I've figured out what I need to do, or at least how to start solving the problem," there was some optimism and a willingness to fight in his voice now.

"You're finally speaking with sense," he admitted with a smile.

"There's something else I'd like to ask, but I feel obliged to keep it a secret..." he tried to explain, but Rupert interrupted him.

"Let's start with what your intentions towards this person are," the man tried to guide Adam to make his goal clear and specific.

"I care about her. I want to help," he replied, crossing his legs.

"You have a huge heart. You can't help yourself, and yet you care about others," the Scot admitted appreciatively and took another sip of whisky. "Okay, let's put that aside. Sincere intentions, in this case, may justify breaking a secret. Besides, you know very well that everything you say is safe with me."

"How to deal with a person who was..." Jensen paused, because saying this word caused him both pain and rage. "Raped, probably for an extended period, and yet I have a feeling that somewhere deep down she is defending the perpetrator? My knowledge is quite limited, but I know of such reflexes under the name of Stockholm syndrome."

"This is what it is called in the textbook, but you know very well I don't like closing anything into terms. It would be easiest if she came here. If you don't convince her or she finds it unnecessary, there's not much you can do. Of course, support and understanding are helpful too, but not always effective. Sometimes it takes a strong jolt for a person to realize they are doing the wrong thing."

"I see," Jensen nodded slowly in thought. "I will respect her decision, whatever it would be. Although personally, I would like her to accept your help, so I will offer her this solution if at all…"

"Enough!" MacKenzie raised his voice. "You haven't even left this place, and you're already using those awful words."

The ex-SWAT smiled with the corner of his mouth. "You're right, I didn't even try to fight, and I'm already giving up."

"The three of us can always meet on neutral ground. You will not tell her who I am, maybe she will gain confidence and decide to come by herself. I know it's a little cheating, but the intentions are good."

"We'll be in touch. I'll let you know when I know something, but in the meantime, it's time for me to go. It's getting late, I'd like to take care of one more thing."

"Perhaps we can meet soon for a game of chess at Crann Tara," he suggested.

"With pleasure, Mr. MacCoinnich," Adam replied, and Rupert smiled at the words.

"I'm glad you're leaving my place changed, Adam," he said as they shook hands.

"Thank you, Rupert. The credit is all yours," Jensen replied, managing to smile a little.

The Scot shook his head. "You're the one who helped yourself. I only showed you the way. Hold on to it, and you'll see everything will be easier than you think."

As the Chief of Security was putting on his coat in the hallway, Demelza came out of the kitchen and handed him a box of cookies.

"It's really not necessary," he said with embarrassment. "Thank you."

"Everything in this world has a purpose. So if I gave you these cookies, it would be definitely for a reason," the woman smiled and walked him to the door. "Do not hesitate to leap. It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly."

Adam decided he had to act and not allow to be intimidated by Damien. The subway trip was terribly long, he hoped Faridah would still be at the company. From what he remembered, she was supposed to stay longer today. As soon as the door slid open with a soft hiss, he moved with a quick step to the exit, squeezing at times quite brutally through the crowd of people.

As soon as he crossed the threshold of the company, he did not look around and did not let anyone stop him, cause at the sight of him several people already wanted to approach him with something. With a quick motion, Adam entered the code to his office and without taking off the coat he began to think how he should let Faridah know they needed to talk. He thought about asking Pritchard for help, but he would grumble too long. The box of cookies and Demelza's words began to combine into a logical whole. When telephones, the Internet, and all electronics were not known yet, people used letters for communication. Adam started looking for a scrap of paper and a fountain pen. When he found them, he wrote a few words and put the note in the box of cookies. Adam locked the office and headed to the second floor. Fortunately, there was light in Malik's office. He knocked, though he rarely did, and slowly stepped inside after permission was granted.

"What are you doing here? You should be sitting in a cozy apartment a long time ago," she muttered to him, still angry about what had happened in the morning.

"I came to apologize," he said completely calmly, handing her a box of cookies.

"Do you think you can bribe me with what's inside? Forget it," she snorted scornfully. "You acted like a simpleton and a boor."

"I did, but I'm sure you're curious about what's inside, like every woman," saying this, he looked at Faridah very suggestively, letting her know she should listen to him.

Faridah sighed. "You're such a pain in the ass," she replied, opening the box. Adam was a little afraid that the woman might pull out the card, but she didn't. "You brought me cookies. Do you want me not to fit into the flight suit?"

"You’re far from it," he muttered.

"Not bad," she admitted eating one. "But you'll have to try harder to please me," she replied, closing the box.

"I didn't count on you forgetting right away. You're probably tired and some boor is wasting your time. I'll go now, until tomorrow," he left pretending to be worried.

Adam might be paranoid, but he didn't really know how Damien worked. If he could somehow see and hear his conversation with Fly Girl, that way he would know everything. Adam hoped it came off naturally and if indeed this motherfucker had access to the cameras then he wouldn't get suspicious. Jensen had to take that risk, though originally he wanted to keep everything to himself.

A dozen or so minutes later he was at home hanging the coat on a coat rack. The man paced around the living room, smoking a cigarette. He turned on some music to calm the nerves a little. Adam sat down on the sofa and waited in the dark room, slowly losing hope. He got up. What if Rupert was wrong this time? A quarter of an hour passed, which the ex-SWAT had spent on further wandering aimlessly across the apartment. Ten minutes later an electronic voice announced he had a visitor. Jensen hurried to the door, beaming at the sight of the Chief Pilots.

"Come in, please. It's good to see you," he invited her inside and closed the door.

"Whether it's good remains to be seen," she muttered as she entered. Faridah took off her jacket and hung it next to his coat.

"No one followed you? No suspicious people? Did you turn off your phone?" he asked with a hint of concern.

"Just my shadow. No one but it. Yes, I turned it off," she replied shortly, shrugging. "You dragged me here for some unknown purpose. I'm tired so to the point please."

"Where is Laura? Is she safe?" Adam ignored her words.

"You suddenly care? Seriously? After all this?" Malik was outraged and had every right to be.

"Sit down and listen to what I have to say and then judge. Agreed?" he offered as calmly as he could.

"Agreed, but on the condition that I get a mug of coffee," she announced sitting down on the sofa. Why is it so dark in here? Do you have a power cut of some sort?"

"Safety reasons," Adam announced from the kitchen. After a while, he returned with two mugs of coffee. He handed one of them to the woman, then took a seat next to her.

"Adam please..." she began but he interrupted her.

"This is not a joke. The matter is more serious than we thought," he tried to explain everything as simple as possible.

"Of course it is! Laura was repeatedly and brutally raped and you...!" she didn't finish, she just let out a loud exhale.

"And Damien started threatening me!" he couldn't stand it and raised his voice, rapidly getting up from the sofa.

Faridah raised her eyebrows surprised by his words and blinked several times. "Wait a minute, wait a minute. What do you mean by ‘threatening’?! What are you talking about?!"

The Head of Security walked towards the window but instead of a view of the city, he only saw black shutters. "If you'd let me explain, we would have gotten this over a long time ago. Can I speak?" he asked crossing his arms over his chest and turning his head towards her.

"Yeah, sure," she said with a soft voice. "Forgive me for being so rude," Malik added apologetically and took a few sips of her coffee.

"It started with a lock of hair and a note that someone had taped to my door the same evening I walked Laura to your place. I determined that I wasn't going to give in to some blackmailer I knew nothing about. I've known similar cases. They always hit a sensitive spot hoping that the person will succumb." Jensen returned to the sofa, sat down, and rested his elbows on his thighs. "The next day passed calmly so I was convinced even more that it was just a clumsy attempt of intimidation, nothing more. Unfortunately, the last time Laura and I worked together at my office, he decided to show himself again. We call him Damien but we don't really know who he is. We were supposed to go out for lunch when I got the message. He ordered me to watch as Laura dies," the ex-SWAT looked at the woman who didn't know how to react. "I saw it with my own eyes. She fell lifeless to the ground," Adam said, trying not to raise his voice. He stretched out his arms slightly in front of him, palms open towards the ceiling, wanting to accentuate his words, emphasize their importance. "He told me to stay away from her. So I obeyed."

"You didn't have to tell her all that. Laura now punctuates that she's a slut in every spoken word. I know that doesn't help you at all, but I tell it like it is."

"Yes, it was mean, inhuman, and beneath my dignity, but I wanted to be believable, to push her away… Anyway, you're right, I don't have a good explanation for that. I don't expect everything to be like it used to be, I am aware of it. I just want you to know," his husky voice was filled with pain and remorse.

"You had no choice, you wanted to protect her," she said softly. "It must be awful living with this," she bit her lip, set the mug down on the coffee table, and ran her fingers through her cropped black hair. "I have no idea what to do. How is it even possible that he has control over her?"

"I asked Frank about it. I thought he could somehow control her through the prosthetic leg, but the hacker denied it. If that wasn't enough, Laura heard my conversation with Megan about the ball."

"I persuaded her to talk to you. She took a few... With her... Oh, fuck…" Malik cursed quietly, covering her face with her hands. "What have I done..."

They were both equally broken and helpless, but at least Jensen wasn't left alone with it all.

"Laura can't leave the company. I won't let that happen," the ex-SWAT growled. "And she has to be at that ball. I don't know how to do it, but I'm not allowing any other possibility."

"Apparently Pritchard is incredibly mad at her. He ordered Laura to be at the ball but knowing her temper... You know best yourself."

"I know. Laura is ready to leave me with all this Washington mess. Anyway, it is the least important. She doesn't even care that Sarif will close her doors to all companies with one nod." the man looked down blankly at the floor and carpet.

"Adam, look at me," she ordered him calmly. "This was beyond your power. You can't predict someone else's behavior," she tried to lift his spirit as he looked in her direction. "I'll try to persuade Laura to go to the ball, but I doubt she'll agree. How long are you going to listen to this psycho anyway?"

"As long as it takes," he answered shortly and firmly.

"You know... I'm not going to lecture you, after all, you worked in the police, but you have no guarantee that Laura will survive." Maybe you're just helping him carry out a sick plan?"

"I've thought about it for a very long time, but what choice do I have?" he asked irritably.

"Tell her?" Faridah suggested the simplest solution. "I can do it myself. Damien will suspect nothing."

"Out of the question," Jensen protested firmly. "Assuming Laura will believe and understand, she will definitely want to do something stupid, or at least tell me not to worry."

"So I have to remain silent until further notice, and you will wait for the situation to resolve itself? Great!" she snorted.

"That's exactly what you're supposed to do. I shouldn't tell you anything at all. But..." Adam suspended his voice, rubbed his temple.

"But?" Malik looked at him attentively, waiting for him to finish.

"I treat you like someone I trust, like a… friend. That's why I decided that you should know and perhaps manage the situation properly when I can't," he said, feeling the words are struggling to pass his throat. "Of course, I don't require anything of you," he added.

"I will try to control the chaos, however, we cannot wait forever.

"Give me time until the ball. Then I'll try to explain it all to her myself somehow."

"You said that guy wrote to you. Show her the messages. That's your best option," she suggested while sipping her cold coffee.

"I don't have the messages. He deleted them. I don't know how or when, but they're gone," anger mixed with fatigue could be heard in Adam's voice. "I thought Frank would help me find a clue but alas."

"There has to be a trace, anything. It's impossible to be that thorough. Maybe Pritchard missed something?"

"I'll try to talk to him again tomorrow, but you can understand how hard it is to talk about a problem in a way that you can't tell who is involved. Besides, I doubt he'll want to do anything after today's row." Adam sighed lighting a cigarette.

"Approach him tricky. Tell Francis that thanks to this Laura will stay in the company, and if he starts asking questions, you can gracefully tell him to keep his fat nose out of your business." Malik grabbed Adam's left wrist, on which he wore an elegant watch. She wanted to check what time it was, at which the man raised his eyebrows as if to ask what she was up to. "I'll go now. I'm falling off my feet, and more flights tomorrow. No flight today? Flight tomorrow! There’s always flight tomorrow!" Faridah mumbled while getting up from the sofa. "And you shouldn't smoke that much. You won't solve any problems with it, and you will only harm yourself," she instructed him, at the same time reminding Adam that someone had said similar things to him not so long ago.

Adam wanted to believe that it would get better and that everything would somehow sort itself out. Unfortunately, there were no signs of that. When Faridah left, he took a quick shower. Jensen felt a little better when he shared his burden, but at the same time, the thought that he had dragged another person into this overwhelmed him.

Detroit. Faridah’s Apartment.

Laura was sitting on the sofa sipping hot cocoa and stroking Stalker who was napping in her lap. She was wearing gray sweatpants and an orange t-shirt that Faridah had to lend her. She had stuffed the one from Adam deep in the closet, not wanting anything to do with it. The woman was just listening to a broadcast on a new radio station called The Masquerade. She knew Malik would be back late, so she could afford to spend time in the company of cheap, romantic stories with a drop of vampire blood. Besides, whoever told these stories had an unearthly, deep voice that made her shiver. Clutching a pillow with a blush on her cheeks, she sank into this unreal world.

 "The fire still burns brightly in the marble fireplace, fancy shadows fall on the floor and furniture, fueling the mystery of this place. The silence foretells the arrival of someone long-awaited. You are alone here, but you get the feeling that someone is constantly watching your every move. As you try to figure out how you ended up here, there is only a void in your mind. You can say what you have been doing all day, with whom you have been meeting, and what you talked about, but if someone asked about this particular detail, only a quiet 'I don't know' would come out of your mouth. You hear the steady ticking of the antique clock, standing against the wall and the creaking of the parquet floor as you step carefully across the room. You stand on an arterial blood-colored carpet that features a sword crossed with a scepter, both embroidered with gold thread. For you, they are just drawings, but for the master of this house something much more important. You walk to the armchair covered with blue fabric, you touch the armrest and the bat wing that adorns the upper part of the backrest. You walk behind the armchair, your fingers brushing over the other wing. Above the fireplace hangs a painting depicting Cain who killed Abel. Next to the armchair on a round wooden table, you notice a bottle of the noble 18-year-old, 0 RH- Quality True Blood, and you become more and more anxious.

 "What is going on here?" - you ask yourself.

 Unfortunately, your question will remain unanswered for some time."

Laura felt disappointed that the story was already over, but the announcer comforted her with the news that there would be a continuation tomorrow. She further added that the mysterious voice would stay with listeners for longer because it funds the ‘Rendezvous with V’.

Faridah returned about half an hour later. Only now did she turn on the phone. She looked like human wreckage, so Laura took care of her again, rushing to brew some tea, for which the woman was extremely grateful. Malik went to take a shower and wash her hair which gave her a huge relief after everything she had heard from Adam. At least she was assured that Jensen had no ill intentions and the methods he had chosen were a necessity. Dressed in a loose gray blouse with long cold-shoulder sleeves and black boy-shorts with orange trim she returned to the living room.

"I heard you were leaving the company," she said as she sat on the sofa next to Laura and took a sip of Earl Gray's hot tea.

"Do we have to talk about this?" she asked displeased.

"Yes, because you are making a huge mistake and I'm going to remind you of that until you start thinking logically and rationally," she said firmly but without anger.

"It's my decision. I'm an adult..." she tried explaining, but Malik interrupted her.

"Then act like an adult. Adam acted like an idiot and you want to give him the satisfaction and walk away? Seriously?" she tried appealing to her explosive nature, to bring back that old desire to compete with Jensen, even hatred. Anything just to stay and channel those feelings in the right direction.

"I don't care," she muttered squeezing the pillow tighter.

"Show him what he's losing, let him see, let his jealousy eat him up. He's just a guy, and his main command center is between his legs. Bring him on his knees. Revenge is a dish best served cold," she encouraged her, though perhaps a little too strongly.

"I'm not Megan," she said indifferently.

"It is true. You're better than her, different. You can have anyone. Adam isn't the only man in the world. Don't give him the satisfaction, be like you were at the beginning."

Laura was starting to believe Faridah's words. Why should she be the one to give in, tuck her tail, and walk away? Let Jensen suffer as much as she does now.

"I'll stay at the company, but I have nothing good to wear at the damn ball. I spent most of my money on... Never mind."

"Tomorrow we will calmly review all the options and decide what to do next. Maybe I can lend you money. Just don't protest."

Laura nodded slowly and headed for the shower. Faridah's phone a moment later signaled that she has a new message. She reached for it thinking it was Adam curious as to how her conversation with Miss Werner had gone.

 "You want to have her blood on your hands too?"