"Uh, guys? It's already midnight. I think it would be wise if we went somewhere more quiet."

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

George walks into his office, a sense of anticipation washing over him. Once again the hatred washes through him; futile hatred mixed with powerless frustration. He sees the vision of Dempsey's mutilated body within his mind. Softly his voice flows through the empty room, an undercurrent of extreme malice seeming to lick at the edges of each word.

"Should have stayed alive long enough for me to spit on him. Damned bastard."

A low growl rumbles from his throat as George unlocks the safe. As his eyes brush over the pictures of his niece and nephew, a fresh arc of anger snaps through him. He gathers the pictures and CDs, trying to shake off the futile rage. It ain't gonna do Ky any good if you flip out, old man. Just keep it together.

His thoughts tumble to a stop as George's eyes light upon the box containing the rest of Dempsey's personal effects. With a slight shrug, he places the CDs and pictures inside it then carries the box out of his office.

With careful and constant attention to his surroundings, Stratfield makes his way through the empty building and through the executive garage, placing the box on his passenger seat. He turns to examine the deserted structure, his heart beat seeming to echo around him. His muttered comment crashes around him as he slips into the Vette once more.

"The Tell Tale Heart indeed."

A dismissive nod accompanies the Vette's thunderous revving as George spends the next twenty minutes driving an increasingly erratic pattern away from his true destination. Twice a sense of panic filters through his thoughts as a particular pair of headlights remains in his rearview for too long.

George chides himself silently after driving another five minutes without seeing another vehicle on the road. He turns toward I-5 and then South, finally satisfied that he is not being followed.

"Too much more of this cloak and dagger shit and you're gonna be sent to the loony bin on the express train."

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

Kyra opens the door on her side of the Expedition, laughing quietly as Wolf scrambles over her and out, racing across the yard. She slips from the truck as Michael steps around, placing his hand lightly at her waist.

"We should probably be inside, Kyra." Michaels continues as he looks to Matthew. "Can you sense anything?"

Matthew shrugs slightly, looking toward the thick trees backing Kyra's yard. A faint frown touches the corners of Matt's mouth.

"There was something out here earlier... Possibly my counterpart.... but it's gone now." Again he shrugs, turning back to Kyra. "Something doesn't feel right, thought. Michael's right, we should go inside."

Kyra nods, turning a smile up to Michael. "You guys can shower and change inside. There's a spare room you two can share..." She pauses a moment, humor bright in her eyes. "If you promise not to talk all night."

Michael laughs quietly then guides Kyra to the back of the Ford. As they each take a pack, Wolf lopes excitedly toward them, tail wagging. Matthew snags his duffel before closing the SUV, grinning at Kyra's words.

"In the house, Fur Face." Her grin is bright, happiness radiating out from her. She pulls her keys from her pocket, politely refusing Matthew's offer to carry her pack. "You don't want to carry what's in here, Matt."

With a warm chuckle, Matthew backs away exagerating his actions. "Hey, just don't send me to buy your personal stuff, Kyra."

A trio of laughter rushes into the house, following Wolf's cheer-filled bark. Kyra points to the large hall closet, directing her companions. "You can put your stuff in there. Make yourselves comfortable. I'll be with you in a moment."

Setting her own pack on a chair, Kyra slips into the kitchen for a moment. "You guys want anything to drink... help yourselves. I need a Mocha."

Matthew takes a look around the livingroom, smiling at the huge entertainment center. Immediately he begins flipping through Kyra's CDs, then grins brightly calling out to her. "Eclectic tastes in music, Kyra. You got a request?"

Soft laughter accompanies the static as Kyra runs the espresso machine. She grins to herself, quickly mixing her coffee, waiting to reply until she returns to the livingroom with her mug.

"Actually, something relaxing... enigma or..." Kyra pauses as Wolf pushes Matthew aside. The dog carefully noses a specific CD from its place, grasping it between his teeth, finally holding it up to Matthew. ".. or Wolf's mix."

She laughs softly as Matthew looks from the dog to her and back. Michael adds his rich laughter as the husky prances excitedly. "You mean to tell me he knows that disc from the others?"

Kyra nods, setting her mug on an end table beside the couch. "Test him if you don't believe it."

Matthew shakes his head, pulling a random disc from the stand. Wolf growls softly, jumping at Matthew. The canine teeth close gently on the jewel case of his CD and Matthew lets go of it, surprise obvious in his eyes.

Carrying his prize to Kyra, Wolf sits before her, thumping his tail on the ground. Kyra chuckles, shaking her head as she takes the disc from her pet. She looks first to Michael, then Matthew, grinning at their obvious disbelief.

Turning back to the dog at her feet, Kyra speaks again. "Alright Wolf. But I want Enigma."

The dog chuffs once, but turns back to the CDs. He points to another disc, then looks back to his mistress, a soft whimper falling from his whiskered muzzle. Matthew reads the label Wolf had selected, shaking his head emphatically.

"No way... that's just a lucky guess."

Grinning, Kyra gives the wolf another suggestion. "Actually, I think Romanza would be better."

Another soft whine and perked ears accompany as Wolf rises, resting his forepaws against the entertainment center. Matthew and Michael both watch in stunned silence as the husky carefully noses a specific disc from its place, grasps it between his jaws, then carries the secondary prize to Kyra.

With pride shining brightly in her eyes, Kyra grins. She takes the disc from her dog, crouching before him to administer scratches and pats. "Thanks for showing off, Fur Face. We'll play your disc first."

Wolf jumps at her, barking and licking Kyra's face alternately. Laughter bubbles from her chest as she falls back under the weight of the dog. She holds up Wolf's Mix, releasing it as the dog grabs the jewel case. He trots triumphantly toward Matthew, waiting expectantly for the human to do his part.

Michael shakes his head, laughing warmly through his comments. "Okay, so that was cool. He's smart. But how do we know he got the right disc the second time?"

With a snort, Kyra holds out the remaining disc, Andrea Bocelli's Romanza, to Michael as proof. Matthew shakes his head, groaning audibly as Wolf barks his impatience.

As the first strains of Dead Puppies fill the room, Kyra gets up off the floor, setting about the unpacking of her gear. She looks at Michael's face, smiling tenderly. The gesture quickly turns into a grin as his eyes ask for some explanation of the dog's trick.

"What can I say? He likes music." She grins again, pointing to the computer. "You might want to get familiar with the configuration of my system. It's a little different than the ones at work."

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

"Colonel Marx sent Lieutenant Thomas on leave before going AWOL. General Sanderson isn't responding. Lieutenant MacBride is taking care of business. I'm the last stop."

The thin, nasaled voice scratches its way from between constantly parched lips as the slender General addresses his guest. "Admiral Bennet, you know that some casualties must occurr in order to win the war. You also know that you signed an oath before you were brought in on this project."

A brief pause fills the office as Bennet endures the intense scrutiny. "You simply can not back out now. Not without suffering the consequences."

Bennet straightens his shoulders at the thinly veiled threat. "I'm not one to balk in adverse situations, General Perkins. That's simply not my style."

This time the Admiral pauses, his own tone taking on a touch of malice. "And I don't like being threatened. Don't do it again."

Bennet stands slowly, looking around the small, cramped office. His intelligent gray eyes examine the few texts on the General's shelves before turning back to examine the slender man across from him.

"I didn't say I wanted to back out, General. I do think, however, that some discretion is necessary." Bennet folds his arms over his thick chest, watching the younger man for a moment. "I want a complete and detailed dosier on Hawkman. There's too much we don't know about him."

Bennet continues on after taking a breath, giving the General no chance to interrupt. "I also want to know why the civilians have been targeted for removal. How are they traitors?"

Perkins flushes a dark red, anger snapping through his thin voice. "I don't have to explain my actions or reasons to you, Admiral."

Bennet raises a single brow, interrupting with his more commanding voice. "You may be project head for the Army, but you don't have enough commendations to fight my trump card. Don't test me, Perkins."

Again the General flushes, sputtering in futile indignation. "Trump card? You can't touch me. I'm a General!"

Thoughts carome through Bennet's mind, laughter begging to be released. Sanderson picked his "partner" well. He's so much hot air. Wiping the faint smirk from his lips before it is seen, Bennet turns for the door, throwing the command over his shoulder.

"A complete dosier, General Perkins. On my desk tomorrow by 1430 hours."

Bennet steps through the door, shutting it tightly on Perkins' sputtering, useless protests.

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

Kyra pulls a hard plastic case from the bottom of her pack, setting it on the end table beside her second mug of coffee. Colapsing the pack, Kyra puts it away, then returns to the livingroom and Michael, carrying a fire-safe lockbox with her. A smile lights upon her lips as Michael speaks softly.

"Are you alright, Kyra?"

She nods, attempting to shrug off the growing nervousness within her. As she settles into the corner of the couch, Michael rises from the computer, moving toward her.

"Are you sure? You know I'm not going to let anything happen to you... right?" His voice seems to be a little thicker, concern brushing the edges of his words.

Again Kyra nods, her smile slow but sure. "Yes, Michael. It's just been a long day." A soft sigh falls from her lips. "A long week."

Michael frowns slightly, watching her for a moment more. He turns his eyes toward the hallway, hearing Matthew finishing in the shower. With a slight shrug, he turns back to Kyra.

"If you need anything, Kyra... well... I'll do what I can."

She nods gently, picking the plastic case up from the table beside her. "It's all good, Michael. I'm still alive..... and I will be for a long time." Again her gentle smile caresses the corners of her mouth as she sets the case upon her lap.

Michael nods with another shrug, wanting to do more... to do something. Something tells him to reach out and kiss her. Just pull her close and never let go of her. Michael shakes the thought from his mind, turning back to the computer.

....

~~~~~~~~~