Watching the scene below, Matthew pauses only a moment before deciding the woman is of no threat. He moves to the far side of the platform, speaking lightly as he unfastens the titanium chain ladder, allowing it to roll over the side. "Who said white men can't jump?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Colonel Marx? Do you have a minute?" A slender woman, dressed in jeans and t-shirt, stands at Marx door.

Marx raises a brow, speaking softly. "Yes Ma'am. What can I do for you?" His eyes take in the woman, pegging her as military. He stands back from the heavy, steel door, granting her access to his home. "Come in, Ma'am."

Shaking her head slightly, the woman takes a step back from Marx's porch. "If you can spare the time, Colonel, I would prefer the open air."

With a faint frown Marx nods then excuses himself to turn of the stew boiling on the stove. He returns a moment later, grabbing a wind breaker from its hook by the door. As the pair make their way down the front walk, the woman speaks again.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Colonel Marx. I need to ask you a few questions of sensitive nature." She pauses in her words, waving toward the deserted ferry terminal a few hundred yards away. "Shall we go to the water?"

Marx's frown deepens as he turns West toward the ferry dock. One part of his mind notes the lights of the prison on Anderson Island across the water. They seem brighter tonight... Marx pulls his thoughts back to the woman walking beside him. He continues to observe her subtly, listening as she states her business.

"Sir, I'm Lieutenant JG Catherine Stevens: Judge Advocate General's office, US Navy. I need all the information you have on Project Destiny..."

Before she can continue, Marx places his hand lightly on her bicep, effectively stalling her forward motion. "Do you have some ID Ma'am?"

Catherine raises a finely curved brow, then nods, reaching to her back pocket. She stops as Marx takes a few steps back, going for the pistol he carries in the SOB holster.

"I'm going for ID, Colonel." As Marx pauses, she turns so that he can follow Catherine's hand in its journey to her hip pocket. Marx releases the pistol, letting it slip back into the holster. As Catherine hands a trio of laminated cards to Marx, he turns his eyes from her to examine them.

With a raised brow, Marx hands the cards back to the Lieutenant JG. "That's some high clearance for a JG." He frowns once again then, as if having made some internal decision, Marx turns once again toward the water. "Speak your piece, Lieutenant."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bright laughter soars into the air, a reverse cascade of sound. Kyra watches Michael as he reaches out for the ladder, his eyes bright with an internal joy. Looking toward Wolf, Kyra frowns slightly, then speaks, her voice a soft caress.

"Michael, do you still have the rope?"

She kneels beside the husky, rolling her pack from her shoulders. Kyra opens the pack, removing the Coccoon and rope climbing harness. As MIchael watches her, Kyra makes quick work of altering the Coccoon and snapping the Carribeaners to it. She then looks up to Michael at the sound of his soft laughter.

"What?" Her eyes are clear and bright, almost a mirror of Michael's own. "If I go, he goes." Her statement is delivered in an authoritative tone, yet carries an undercurrent of mirth.

"Anything you want, Kyra." Michael grins as he climbs down the ladder, removes his own pack and unfastens the climbing rope.

"Anything?" Kyra's eyes contain a slightly darker hue... the flirtatious tone weighing heavily.

Warm, inviting laughter flows from the tree tops as Matthew looks on. For the first time in the past four months, Matthew realizes that he is truly happy and free of fear. He turns his head to the side, listening to the forest for a moment. A faint frown touches the corners of his mouth, yet it fades almost instantly.

"Better watch out, Mike. She'll give you a run for your money."

Matthew grins, his voice carrying laughter to both Kyra and Michael, so far below him. He snaps his mouth closed upon his next words, once again listening to the distant sounds of the forest. This time his frown remains etched upon his face. When he speaks again, an urgency colors his words.

"I hate to break up the party, but you need to get up here quickly. There's a helo coming."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marx turns from Catherine, staring out at the faint moonlight touching the ripples of water before him. A frown creases his forehead, thoughts churning and rolling through his mind. Catherine's voice, now sounding slightly raw, rasps from her dry throat.

"Are you sure, Colonel Marx?" She pauses, meaning no disrespect. "I mean... is that possible?"

With a slowly exhaled breath, the Colonel turns his eyes back to his companion, his own voice sounding slightly hollow.

"Yes, Ma'am. I'm sure. I don't know if it's possible, but that's what Hawkman claims. And it's not a good situation, Lieutenant. In fact..." Again Marx turns to look at the water, his eyes moving along the dapples of moonlight to finally rest upon the prison. "...it's FUBAR, Lieutenant Stevens." Marx goes quiet, seemingly drawn into the activities of the prison, though he can not see them.

Catherine releases a sigh, echoing Marx's own. She stands from the bench she'd been occupying, moving toward the Southern corner of the pier. With a soft voice Catherine addresses her words to the faint breeze, the questions more rhetorical than inquisitive.

"After six months the process is irreversable? How many have been infected? And...." Her voice takes on a hoarse pleading quality. "...my God..." Controling her tones, Catherine whispers faintly. "...how can we possibly stop this?"

Marx turns his eyes from the prison across the water, scruitinizing the young woman standing at the water's edge. "To the best of my knowledge, only three have been infected. Other than Hawkman." His voice seems even more hollow than before, his eyes hard and closed off.

Catherine catches the look in the Colonel's eyes, her investigative interest piqued. "You know more than you've shared, Colonel Marx. You know at least one of those subjects. Tell me the whole story." Stevens moves back toward Marx, a fire in her eyes, as if her previous moment of doubt had never happened. She turns her head slightly, examining the Colonel's eyes intently.

Before she can ask him anything else, there is a blinding flash of red-orange light from behind them, quickly followed by a tremendous explosion. The sound waves ripple toward them as Marx spins on his heel, running along the pier and up toward his home. He skids to a sudden halt, Catherine bumping into him rather forcefully at his sudden stop.

Before she can speak, Marx grabs Catherine, jerking her back toward the pier with one hand clamped over her mouth. With his eyes on the speed boat before him, Marx half carries the Lieutenant down the ramp to a small floating dock. He unceremoniously dumps Catherine into the boat, hissing at her before removing his hand.

"Silence!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MIchael looks up to his brother, a brow raised. Turning to Kyra with a shrug, Michael moves to her side, threading the rope through carribeaners. "I don't hear anything, but Mattie always had a sense for danger. You'd better hurry."

Kyra frowns slightly but nods as she coaxes the husky into his MacGyver-ized harness. She stands, tying the free end of the rope to her pack before slinging it over her shoulders once again. Kyra then moves to the ladder, beginning to climb. As Wolf releases a soft whimper Kyra looks to him, never ceasing her climbing. "Wolf! Down! Stay!" Her tone softens slightly. "You'll be okay. No worries, pup."

Michael moves to the ladder, stablizing it for her as Kyra makes her swift way toward the platform. Matthew continues to watch until Kyra gets through half the climb. He then turns to listen to the forest again, shaking his head as the sound of the helo is gone. With a ruefull tone, Matthew calls down to Kyra.

"Don't rush it. The helo's gone for the time being. Mike'd kill me if anything happened to you."

Kyra slows her pace just a little at Matthew's words. A slight puzzlement shines in her eyes and she hesitates for half a second before forcing herself onward. If anything happened to me??? He doesn't know me from Adam. And he hasn't seen his brother in a ..... or has Michael been talking with Matthew about me? But no... Kyra jerks her thoughts from that track, starting to feel a slight burn in her calves and shoulders. Climb, kiddo. Leave the self-examination for later.

Matthew reaches his hand out, grasping Kyra's pack as she reaches the platform. With a gentle touch, the Lieutenant guides Kyra into a protected roll, making sure she's safely balanced. Before she can get up, Matthew unties the rope from Kyra's pack, quickly pulling up the slack.

"Better get that pack off. You're not the kind to watch someone else care for your dog." Matthew's business-like tone is offset by the smile in his crystal blue eyes.

With a slight nod, Kyra shrugs the pack from her shoulders, hanging the shoulder straps on a broken branch which seems to have been designed just for that purpose. She moves toward the edge of the platform, lowering herself to her knees, then her belly before reaching the railless edge.

Kyra closes her eyes for a moment, trying to swallow the dose of bile which rises to the back of her throat. "Gah..... shit." Kyra backs away from the edge slightly, looking to Matthew. "Alright... I'll take anchor."

Matthew releases a soft laugh, nodding to her as he begins to pull the rope in earnest. "Don't like heights, I see."

Michael, watching as Wolf is drawn smoothly into the air, reaches toward the husky, patting its muzzle once. "It's okay, Wolf. You'll be with her in just a minute." The husky looks to Michael, a faint whimper slipping from its throat. Though Wolf's fur trembles violently, Michael smiles at the courage in the dog's eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marx curses violently, a wild and colorful string of words no man should be subjected to, let alone a young woman. As the wind whips around the edges of the boat's cockpit, the Colonel calls down to Catherine.

"Alright, Come on up here. It should be safe for now."

Catherine moves up from the galley area, her eyes never leaving Marx's face. "What the hell was that all about?"

Shrugging slightly, Marx looks to her as he guides the boat under Narrows Bridge, heading further North. His eyes are cold and hard, his voice carrying a heavy, bitter note.

"That was my house that blew. And there was no reason for it to. Something bad is going down and the last place you want to be is in the middle of it. I'm taking you back to the ship yard. It's best that you're not with me if whoever was behind that catches me."

........

~~~~~~~~~~~~~