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.

Kyra opens the case upon her lap, pulling her H & K, P2000 9mm from it, a small sense of security filling her at the comfortable weight. She pops the release, catching the magazine in her left hand. Kyra murmurs softly to Wolf as the dog jumps up to sit beside her on the couch. With methodic precision, Kyra dismantles the H&K, setting each piece in order. She seems to lose herself in the mundane task.

Just as the last song on Wolf's disc ends, Kyra completes the reassembly of her weapon. The husky barks once, raising his head as if requesting an en core. Smiling softly, Kyra shuckles, reaching for the remote. She then replays the last song; Hungry Like the Wolf Joy shines in the husky's approving eyes, and he thumps his tail twice against the leather couch cushions.

Michael looks over his shoulder at Kyra, a faint smile on his lips. He watches her interaction with curious eyes, then speaks softly.

"Kyra? When do you think George will get here? I've got everything set."

Turning her eyes to Michael, Kyra shrugs a little. "I'm not sure, Michael. But..." She pauses slightly. "Something is coming. Something bad." As a soft whisper, she completes her statement. "I can feel it."

Michael raises a brow, moving quickly to Kyra's side. "Can you tell how far?"

She shakes her head slightly, a gentle, reassured smile turning Kyra's lips upward. "No love. maybe Matthew could, but I can't."

The bright, refreshed voice follows her statement as Matthew returns, showered and changed. "What can I do that you can't?"

Before Kyra has the chance to respond, Wolf stands, stairing toward the front door.

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

His nose twitches slightly, identifying each and every thing within a mile radius. His eyes examine the thick forest around him, seeing through the darkness as if it were 12 noon rather than 0300 hours. The cool, mid-September morning flows around him, a mellow tide of scents, sights and sounds. Each step brings him closer to his objective. The girl. She, and everyone near her, would be silenced once and for all.

With complete and utter silence, the lone figure freezes in place, an old and familiar scent drifting toward him. A wicked and feral grin splits his oddly shapped lips as recognition sets in. A soft murmur escapes his lips, the words tinged with lust.

"You will die tonight, Lieutenant. And I will feast on your heart." An earie, near-silent cackle spreads from his throat.

Once again he moves forward, following the scent of his prey. Each step follows more quickly until he settles into a swift pace. The lone hunter pays no heed to the paths of the forest, forging a trail of his own without disturbing a single leaf.

A sudden panic fills him, calling a halt to his forward motion. With senses at the maximum the hunter pegs his objective at a mile and a half to the north. A lascivious grin settles upon his features as once again his feet propell him forward, this time more slowly. He prowls through the dense treescape, a shadow among shadows, stalking time.

~~~~~~~~~~~

George pulls his Vette into the driveway, shutting off the engine after locking the convertable top in place. He slides from the car, dragging the box of files with him. With observant eyes, Stratfield walks up to Kyra's door, foregoing the simple formality of knocking.

The tall man chuckles softly as Wolf leaps from the couch, barking happily at George's entrance. "Hey there, pup." George sets his burden on the floor, moving toward his Niece. "Ky, you really need to..."

Laughter rumbles from George's throat as he sees the H&K. "Ahh, takin care of the baby. Good girl."

Michael turns his gaze to the gun, finally seeing it. He looks to Kyra, speaking softly. "You really know how to use that?"

At Kyra's nod, yet another point goes up in the plus column within Michael's mind. His aproval is easily seen as Michael smirks just a little at Matthew's comment.

"Oooohh, nice toy."

Matthew reaches a hand forward. "Can I have a look?"

Kyra chuckles softly. "I don't know, can you?"

With a slight grimace, Matthew sighs exageratedly. "Oh man. May I have a look?"

Michael laughs softly as Kyra nods her permission to Matthew. Turning his eyes toward George, Michael watches as the older man, pulls his niece from the couch, hugging her to him.

"You okay, Ky honey?"

The tenderness and warmth in George's voice puts a smile on Michael's lips. He turns then, smiling at his brother's inspection of the small pistol. A low chuckle saunters from Michael's throat at his brother's child-like excitement over gun.

"You can put your tongue back in your mouth, Mattie."

Matthew shrugs off the comment, his voice awe-struck. "Mike, this is not just a P2000, this is pre-production. Once they were officially in production, HK called these P20s."

Matthew pauses for a breath, completely ignoring everyone and everything save the pistol in his hand. The young Lieutenant's eagerness seems to be infectious, prodding Michael's smile into a lopsided grin.

"These were specifically designed for the female hand. And this one..." He pauses a moment, examining the pistol more closely. "Shit... this one's got the finest trigger... The action so smooth... it's like parting water with your pinkie." Matthew raises his eyes to his brother, watching Michael for a moment. "This one's serial number... no shit... is 000009."

Matthew seems to shake off his obsession with the nearly decade old gun, replacing it in its case. "There's really only one negative... The mags aren't cooperative. But, this is still an incredible little piece of work. It's one of the first ambidextrous pistols HK put out."

Michael grins, unable to resist. "It's got a nice beat but ya can't dance to it, Mattie."

Matthew looks at his brother for a moment, confusion in his eyes, then bursts into laughter. "Shut up, Mike. You got excited by your damned computers. At least my obsession can put food on the table."

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

Closer. Closer. The scent is strong now. Only another half mile and I will have my prey. Stalking. Walking within the silent stillness. He revels in the heat coursing through his veins. They will fall. And I will devour them. Release the animal within. Give in to the need. Give in to the lust. Release the power within. They will all die

The words echo within his mind. His senses are at their full power and he can smell the sour sweat flowing from his body. Again he pauses, sniffing in a new direction. The smile settles over his lips once again, evil and lascivious at the same time. His discordant thoughts accompany the hunter's silent steps.

Peons. They are all peons. My victims. While the neighbors fuck like rabbits. Lewd and vile creatures. Darwin's dust mites. They will all fall. Stalking. Stalking. Closer. Closer. Release the animal within. Release the animal within. Release. Give in. Release...

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

George gently propells Kyra out of the kitchen, chuckling at her third large mug of espresso. "You really have developed quite an addiction to those espressos, Ky."

With a soft grin, Kyra looks up to her Uncle, nodding. "Yeah, but my addiction isn't as leathal as yours." She pauses only half a second. "Care for a tumbler of Scotch?"

Stratfield breaks into a broad grin, then claps Matthew on the back as the younger man replaces the HK. "Don't mind if I do, Ky. Don't mind if I do."

Matthew raises a brow slightly, then shrugs it off, looking to Kyra. "So, what was it you couldn't do that you wanted me to try?"

Kyra smiles softly, looking briefly to Michael. "I can feel something coming, but I can't tell how far away, or what it is. I just get this sense of something not-nice."

Matthew nods, grumbling to himself about his own lack of attention, then he stills, tilting his head slightly to the side, listening intently. Kyra turns her eyes to Michael once again, pointing to the computer. Her voice is gentle and soft spoken.

"I think we should get started on those discs. We might get some answers. Like... Why I'm a target."

With a quick nod, Michael stands, moving to George. They speak softly as the two large men pause long enough to dole out Scotch, grab the CDs and take up positions before the computer screen. Their action spurs an idea and Kyra takes the file box to the couch, sitting back in the soft leather, beginning her hard copy search.

Thoughts tumble and turn within Kyra's mind as she scans the files each in turn. Her eyes never cease their vacuum-effect reading. It takes Matthew three tries before he gets Kyra's attention, but finally she breaks away from the files, looking into Matthew's eyes.

"What?"

Matthew chuckles softly, but the sound quickly fades as tension seems to rise steadily. "He's about three quarters of a mile out. His name is Jackson and he's not a good man to be around."

Matthew watches Kyra's eyes, suddenly having an intense desire to protect her; at any cost. Shaking the thought from his mind, Matthew continues more softly. "He was exposed before I was. Jackson was the first Military man to be tested. I was the second. From what we've pieced together, his DNA has already been altered."

Kyra nods slowly, pointing to the file in her hand. "Yes, that's what it says here. It seems that Dempsey kept very detailed records of who was injected and how often and when. He alludes to video tapes and cassettes as well, but I don't see any of those in here...." Kyra's voice trails off as she looks toward Michael.

George takes a step back, shaking his head. "That sonuvabitch...."

Blinking, Kyra asks for some explanation. "What? What have you found?"

Michael shakes his head, tapping the keys with an unbelieveable speed. His frown deepens more then vanishes completely as a low growl rushes from his chest. Slowly Michael turns to Kyra, his face white.

"We have found out why you're a target, Kyra." He shakes his head slightly as if the words refused to fall past his lips. "Byron's conversations about your affinity with animals wasn't the only thing Dempsey used for his research."

Again Michael stops. His eyes show a mix of confusion and anger as he watches the woman before him. Her innocense reaches out and the desire to hold her; to protect her is once again dominant.

"Dempsey used your DNA for his formula. Not just the idea, but your actual DNA. The bastard made you the Mother of his creation. Since he now has your DNA mapped, he can recreate it. You're not considered expendable."

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