With the monitors offline, I couldn’t be sure what to expect when I entered Mac’s room. I had the gun ready, but it turned out it was the last thing I needed. Standing over Mac, who looked like absolute shit, was Rebecca Cooper. Holding his hand tenderly, and coming up from a kiss.

I’m so glad I grew up with a nice, normal family.

Well, I had thought she might be working on the orders of Mac’s father to get the Adept into ‘safe’ hands. This pretty much clinched it for me. Of course, I still had to figure out how to keep Mac out of any Union hands.

Except mine, of course.

     "Taking care of family business?" It was a male's voice. Young. Arrogant.

     "Family business?" Rebecca's voice sounded confused. And it registered finally on Mac's subconcious what the new voice had said.

     Family?

     "The captive. He is your brother-in-law, no? I'm assuming Dr. Cooper requested you?"

     Mac opened his eyes. He saw the whitish, gray images. He blinked slowly, listening. He knew that voice from somewhere - a dream? A memory of another life? It was hard to think through the drugged fog.

     "I have past familiarity, yes." Rebecca was beside him again, her hand on his arm.

     Mac blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision. Sleep tugged at him and he wanted to drift back again into oblivion - but the voice taunted him. Urged him to listen.

     "It seemed logical for me to try and get through to him. The usual methods haven't worked." Her voice gained a bit more confidence.

     "And you thought you could get through to him with kindness?"

     I know that voice!

     He felt and heard Rebecca move beside him. "Is kindness such a bad thing for our adversaries? Sometimes one must have the Courage to do what is right."

     The Adept tried to turn his head, but the restraint below his chin made movement nearly impossible.

     "And you propose to know what is right, I take it?"

     Oh my God. I know him. I know that voice. It can't be. Mac shifted against the restraints. His movements were sluggish and he fought the desire to drift back into slumber. I've never been so happy to hear that arrogant, snot-nosed kid in my life.

     Calen was there. How? Mac had no idea. He only knew that for the first time since this nightmare began, he held a bit of hope.

     "I think you know I do. And I think you have no more interest in seeing him handed over to control than I do."

     "My only interest lies in completing my mission."

     "And what exactly is your mission?" The pressure beneath Rebecca's hand grew stronger and Mac tried to reach his fingers out to her. The Adept closed his eyes.

     There was a pause, and Mac believed he could almost see the VE's sardonic smile. "It's classified."

     "Of course. Now tell me anyway."

I had to find a way to be sure. Her line about Courage could have been a reference to John Courage…or an attempt to give me enough rope. It was obvious she didn’t want Burke to hang on to Mac, but the official line was still that she was delivering him to Control. I didn’t have time to pussyfoot around with her, but if she got her suspicions up, it would have been trivial for her to have me killed.

The downside to being a clone – completely expendable. Useful for being unobtrusive, but not exactly a position of strength from which to negotiate.

     Mac opened his eyes, fighting sleep. Have I dozed? It's getting harder to tell dream from reality.

     He heard Calen speaking. "My purpose here is to make sure that he is no threat to my ongoing mission. Once Control takes him, anything he says would be classified, and then he would no longer be of any use to me."

     "And if Control takes him – then I'm afraid Dr. Cooper will be unable to take Mr. Doe into custody as well. It seems we have a common purpose, Agent …?" Rebecca squeezed his arm. But Mac couldn't keep his eyes open.

     "It’s ‘Calen’. And yes, we do, Mrs. Cooper." There were footsteps on the floor. "Perhaps we should work together in removing Mr. Doe from this facility."

     The Adept coughed. Rebecca's hand was on his chest. He felt her step closer, then he heard Calen's voice again, only now it was right beside him. "How much of the zolpidem has he had?"

     "The machine's set to inject 2ccs every half hour. I've been adjusting it carefully – lessening it without drawing attention. That's why he's awake right now." She sighed. "Well, as awake as he can be. My main concern is the AIC."

     "Burke."

     "Yes," she growled. "Damned fool nearly killed him earlier. I've arranged to have him in my care. But I wasn't lying about Control. I know from my own sources that they're on their way, and once Burke finds out, he'll take over Ala- " she paused. "Wait. You know who he is. Noone should know that outside of myself and Dr. Cooper.”

I decided it was time for a half-truth. She may have wanted to protect Mac, but that hardly meant she was going to help a rogue agent involved with a bunch of deviants.

     Calen sighed. “I infiltrated his little amalgam of deviants after my, ah, progenitor, was removed. They are pursuing some information that is currently of interest to Control and, unfortunately, this particular deviant has some rather critical data locked in his DEI.”

     The words filtered through the fog in Mac’s head…Could Calen be telling the truth? What if the VE had really been a spy all along?

     Mac groaned, and felt hands on his forehead. He tried to pull away - he didn't want the VE touching him if he were a spy. Spy...I let him inside my head. We've all been betrayed. I have to warn the others.

     "I read he has a concussion?" Calen’s voice again.

     "Yes. Car accident. And there are few bruised ribs and the left leg is broken, but mending. He's not going to be able to move easily on it for at least another twenty-four hours. It'll hurt like hell once the drugs wear off."

     "Well, he'll just have to adjust."

     Mac opened his eyes and tried to focus. Are you a spy? Jesus, Nicholas...have you been working for the Union in secret all along? Or are you simply playing a game? The Adept could no longer distinguish lie from truth - especially not through the haze of his thoughts. He felt separate, alone, disjointed. Detached.

     He heard the machine signal from somewhere in the room. More of the drug was pumped into his system. His eye-lids weighed heavily as he fought against sleep.

     "Then I suggest," Calen began, "we make arrangements for the transport. And we do it as quickly as possible.”

Fighting our way out was not my idea of a good time. Never mind the outnumbered aspect – a plasma caster against unprepared opponents tends to be a tremendous equalizer – but most of the Agents in the hospital were just doing their jobs. And most of them were probably as loyal to the Precepts as I am. Or, as I was coming to suspect, Rebecca was.

Rebecca already had some orders on file to take custody of Mac. Forged ones. Badly forged ones. I logged into the system and kicked off my access codes. A little song, a little dance, and suddenly Ms. Cooper had orders to expedite Mac for transport to an NWO facility elsewhere in the city where I could take a crack at interrogating him using some of their specialized equipment. The acquisition team would pick him up there for transport to more permanent accommodations in the U.S.

I figured, once Mac was out of the hospital, I would deal with Rebecca.

     "Right", Calen began. "Here’s what we do…"

     Mac drifted back into a fitfull sleep.


     Six months had passed since Alan first met Rebecca. The wedding was two weeks away, and the two of them had arranged a meeting in Lincoln City, a small resort town off the coast of Oregon. Alan chose a nice, private condo for the two of them to be alone.

     This was to be their last meeting. His relations with his father were strained. Alan had refused to continue the allergy treatments when he was home, and his grades at school had begun to slip.

     He was broken inside – torn between his brother and this wonderful woman. But she was set on marrying Richard. And Alan would accept it.

     But he still had this weekend. And the two spent every minute of it together. They walked the beach, read on the couch in silence, ate seafood, and spent as much time wrapped together as possible.

     Until the final day, when there had been a knock at the door and Alan had answered it.

     Richard's fist had been there, and connected directly with Alan's face. He'd landed backwards on the ground, his head ringing from the punch. He'd heard Rebecca scream, begging Richard not to hurt him.

     Alan held his own for a few rounds. He was able to bust Richard's nose, before his brother smashed his head into the doorframe. Alan had seen stars, and then nothing else.

     He'd awoke to find himself alone the floor of the condo. He was sick in his stomach – both from nausea and from heart break. He stumbled around the darkening rooms. Found Rebecca's things gone. Found a note from Richard not to come to the wedding.

     Alan had sat on the veranda and cried for hours afterward. And then he'd packed his things and headed out.

     His mother died six months after the wedding. And after his brother's scene in the hospital upon her death, Alan Cooper had left Oregon for good. He quit MIT. Won the lottery, and created a new life for himself in Atlanta.

     It was then he met Maouri.

I filled Rebecca in on the plan. Get Mac into the ambulance and head for CF-A23, NWO's main holding facility for the city. I let her believe I was just along for the ride, wanting to interrogate the prisoner. After all, I could hardly get any useful info out of him when he was doped to the gills.

Once he was in NWO's hands, she could make sure Dr. Cooper was able to collect his son before Control got to him.

     He was jarred awake again. Mac had been lifted and transferred to what he suspected was a gurney. The metal restraints were replaced by wide leather ones that wrapped from one side of the gurney to the other and hugged him tightly to the metal beneath him. Smaller leather straps restrained his wrists at the sides. He enjoyed the freedom of lifting his head. When the simple movement made him dizzy, he groaned and layed back down.

     He'd not heard Calen's plan, and so he wasn't sure if his being moved was a part of it. Or was this the plan all along? To return me to the Union and my dysfunctional family - maybe that would give him admittance back into the Technocracy's open arms. The Adept listened for Calen's voice or Rebecca's. Panic seized him when he heard Burke approaching from somewhere in the hall.

     Burke. What had Calen done with Rebecca?

     "…highest non-lethal dosage of Valium. I want him as heavily sedated as possible. No trouble. I don't care what that clone requested. I'm going to make sure he doesn't get away. I'm not losing him to anyone."

     ...what that clone requested. He cringed inwardly. He's betrayed me, he's betrayed all of us. Mac raised his head to try and see what was happening. Burke is taking me? Christ, what has Calen done? He strained against the straps. I - I can't tell what's real. He didn't want to believe any of this. He couldn't believe Calen had been spying on them all along. He'd actually begun to trust the damned VE!

     Burke was beside him. The man pushed his head back and pried Mac's eyes open as he shone a light in each of them. "Something's odd here - he's barely drugged. Cut the zolpidem completely. Just administer the Valium."

     "Should we dress him?" A man's voice Mac had never heard before spoke.

     Burke answered."No, he's not going anywhere except back into another holding room - a place he'll learn to call home while we pick him apart. The scrubs are fine - just throw a blanket over him to hide the restraints. I don't want any non-hospital individual asking questions."

     "What about the wiring to the port?"

     "Remove it. The port's of no use at the moment."

     Someone rubbed his left arm with something wet. He smelled alcohol.

     "Another one?" said the first voice. "Just use the shunt on the other arm."

     "Have you seen it? That arms' black and blue already. I prefer a nice, clean, smooth canvas to inject. And besides, this is the important one. He'll sleep for a week on this stuff."

     "Can't say I envy this guy." The first voice pipped up. "Okay. Ready."

     Mac lifted his head again and tried to make out faces. He felt the rush of something warm into his left arm– and then there was nothing, save the thud of his head against the gurney's pillow.

I silently watched them load Mac into the ambulance, hadn’t counted on them sedating him so heavily.

I had been expecting to bring him around and have him talk to Ms. Cooper – thinking the two of them could work something out. I really didn’t want to have to take action against her. She was caught between her duties and her conscience, something that’s become all too common in the Union of late.

The plan had worked so far. But there’s always a complication...

Written with Blake Sorenson

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