The winding passageway's dark blue walls and smooth white tiles took them towards the training and weapons room. Breanna felt her abilities break free as she stepped into the large room. Apart from training equipment, the first room was empty. Veering to the right and entering the open doorway, Breanna found Tania shielding Fiona with her body, trying to push the stubborn woman behind her. Everything in Breanna stilled. Tania, Fiona and Cara faced a tall black fatigue-clad man holding a badly shaking gun.

"What do we have here?" Breanna said conversationally, strolling into the room, "you come here, a safe place and pull a gun on people you don't know. How rude."

The man glanced over his shoulder, his eyes widening in alarm. He swung around, adjusting his stance and gripping at the handle of his gun. Breanna's abilities rippled, sensing not everything was correct. Something didn't add up.

"Cara?" Breanna spoke quietly, keeping the trembling man focused on herself.

"Nothing," she said, "only a mental shield."

The realisation slammed into her. Darcia.

"Darcia," Breanna spoke conversationally, "you have succeeded in taking over another being. I don't think he wants to do what you're telling him to."

Running feet alerted everyone to a new arrival. The high pitched gasp advised the gender to be female, yet no one moved. Breanna knew that gasp, and the voice confirmed.

"Oh ... my," Daisy whispered behind Breanna.

"A high level of enhancement," Breanna said, glancing at Daisy.

"Yes, but it's a tortured enhancement," Daisy whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "I don't think he can think clearly, especially with the abnormal voices in his head."

"We'll be as gentle as possible," Breanna acknowledged, "what are we working with?"

"Tula?" David whispered.

"Terrified," Tula replied quietly, "it's challenging to calm his chaotic emotions. He is all over the place. I sense more than one person. Bre, he is fighting for control."

"Oran," Breanna said quietly, "move to Cara."

Breanna ambled toward the sweating, shaking man, his gun wavering between anyone moving. Breanna positioned herself between her team and the roaming weapon.

"What is your name?" Breanna asked softly, watching his eyes dart everywhere but never looking at her.

"He seems to be fighting mental control," Cara whispered.

"Do you hear me?" Breanna asked quietly.

His eyes focussed on Breanna with sudden unnerving precision.

"I'm not going to be an experiment again," he panted, "won't be put in those chairs," he gasped, wincing before groaning in pain. "I won't have things put in me that talk in my head ... telling me what to do ... making me do things I don't want to."

"You're safe here," Breanna said gently, "we don't have those chairs. You will have control here. Lower the gun. No one wants to hurt you."

"You're here," he shuffled his feet, "you did all those things to … all … those people."

"I'm Breanna," Breanna swallowed the rising anger, "not Darcia."

"I … know your face … Darcia," his eyes darted around before squeezing them closed.

"Breanna," she said again, moving forward, "look at my eyes."

The eyes snapped open, locking on Breanna; he had lost the fight. The gun swivelled directly at her, steady, the finger pressing on the trigger.

"Steve," Craig called, "what are you doing?"

"Darcia, you will not have him," Breanna muttered.

Before Breanna could build enough energy to deliver her mental punch, a blur of movement passed her. Making her blink rapidly in the draft. Opening her eyes, Breanna found Daisy standing to the side of Steve, the top of her head in line with his shoulder. She held his wrist tightly while wrenching his arm up and kneeing his groin. Steve jerked, dropping to the floor, gasping, the gun clattering to the side. Breanna noticed a flash of metal glint in his hand, resting on the floor.

"David, shield Daisy," Breanna called, delivering her mental punch before any more harm came to Steve or anyone else.

Steve jerked as he tried to stagger to his feet, the knife falling, followed by his sagging body.

"What just happened?" Craig strode forward, kneeling next to his teammate, "what did you do to him?"

Breanna turned toward the four standing behind her, ignoring Craig, "Are you okay?"

"Yes," they nodded in unison.

Oran folded his sister against him protectively and nodded toward Daisy, still standing in the same spot, looking around her in wonder.

"Thank you, Daisy. Are you alright?" Breanna said, watching the woman.

"Wow," Daisy whispered, reaching her hand out carefully touching something no one could see "this is amazing."

"David," Breanna looked at him.

"Give her a moment," David said quietly.

Breanna smiled, "Are you indulging her?"

He nodded, "She can sense more than she knows."

Breanna sighed, "Pop the bubble."

Daisy blinked before looking around, "That was fantastic."

Swallowing a laugh, Breanna indicated to the unconscious man, "What do you sense?"

Daisy inhaled deeply held it a moment before releasing the breath, "He has high-level enhancements," she whispered, "but they are not stable. He seems to flow between them … they rise and fall … very quickly."

"Get him to Hana in the infirmary," Breanna murmured, "Daisy, please ask Rose to join Hana. Fiona, go with them and do a thorough sweep. Find the voices in his head."

"The rest of you," Breanna looked around, "we have preparations to complete."

Leaving the room, Breanna stalked down the passage to her quarters. Explosive anger rolled through her. The hairs on her arms and neck bristled. Spinning in mid-stride, she delivered a floor level roundhouse, scooping a pair of black fatigue, clad legs. The tall body scrambled to keep balance before hitting the floor. Bouncing to her feet, Breanna looked down at Craig.

"Let me guess," she spoke evenly, "you don't like the way I spoke to you."

"Among other things. I demand respect," Craig wheezed, "and I won't take that type of treatment from you or anyone."

"Get this straight," Breanna placed her foot on his chest, grabbed his legs, pulling them toward his chest, "this is not the military. You're not given respect? If you want it, you earn it. The people in this team have been through enough. You keep your group together and onboard. If you can't take commands from a woman, you know where the door is. If you decide to be part of this operation," Breanna bent closer, "earn your spot in the ranks like everyone else."

Letting go, Breanna stalked into her quarters, slamming the door behind her. Hardly noticing the spacious room with contemporary décor and a view of the ocean as she stalked toward the bathroom. Fury pulsed through every pore at the thought of her twisted, diabolical sister. Never mind a tall, muscular, egotistical male that happened to be her eldest brother.

Turning on the shower, she stripped off her clothes, stepping under the steamy spray. Breathing deeply while reaching for her skin stimulator, she squirted shower gel into the porous surface, scrubbing as if her life depended on it.

"Who the hell do they think they are?" she muttered angrily, "walking in here. Doing that," she scrubbed harder, "I'll recon his ass if he pulls something like that again."

Washing down her tingling skin from the thorough cleaning, she reached for a towel, wrapping it around her. Padding into her room, glancing at her calendar, noting the red mark indicating she had been awake and working nearly twenty-four hours straight. Sudden understanding regarding the tiredness deep in her cramped muscles and a hunger stretching her rumbling stomach bringing to mind the expression "hungrier than a bear just out of hibernation". Dressing quickly, she postponed the much-needed rest to head to her personal kitchen in her suite. Perhaps she would feel better after eating and process everything with more ease. She needed a moment of peace to breathe, regroup, and gain control of her scrambled thoughts and memories.

"Time," she sighed, "just a moment in time."

Sitting in the large kitchen of the place they now called home David sipped at a cup of hot chocolate. Everyone else had found their quarters, but his mind wouldn't rest with critical decisions bringing him to this moment as they continuously played through his mind. It was a short time since he had dropped through Breanna's window, but it felt longer, almost a lifetime away. The world he knew had irrevocably changed.

"Can't sleep?" a deep, husky voice spoke in the darkness.

"Take it you can't either," David replied, looking up at illuminating grey eyes of a tall man walking out of the shadow. "Let me guess, one of your enhancements is you can see clearly in any type of lighting."

"One of them," Craig acknowledged, "where do I get hot chocolate?"

David pointed to the items on a nearby countertop. Silence drifted as Craig made his drink before easing himself into a seat opposite David, sipping at the hot beverage.

"How the hell did my baby sister become what she is today?" he shook his head, running his hands through short ebony hair.

"The answer is simple," David said, "I'm guessing she was trying to protect her family. The question should be how the hell do you do recon with someone as unstable as Steve in an allies place," David said, "especially when you have been pulled from Darcia's team."

"Not my order. The light recon yes, but the rest of it..." Craig shook his head, "one of the women found an embedded device behind his ear."

"Fiona," David supplied, "the voices in his brain. Has it been destroyed?"

"Yeah," Craig sighed, "the minute it was... he died."

"What?" David sat forward, his attention caught, "he died?"

"You haven't heard," Craig stared at him, "I was sure, with as many women present, the news would be everywhere."

"One thing you'll learn, there may be a lot of women, but gossip is non-existent. If you have something to say, you talk to the person it concerns," David said. "Second thing you'll learn, the only woman you need to worry about not knowing is Breanna," David said quietly. "She was gentle with her mental punch," easing back against the seat, he shook his head, "where did this guy come from?"

"What do you mean?" Craig asked, sipping his chocolate.

"When did he join your crew?" David asked.

"About two weeks ago," Craig frowned, "why?"

"Was he wearing a necklace before he joined?" David asked.

"Yes. We all were, but it was destroyed," Craig said thoughtfully, "we all thought it was strange when each necklace fizzed a different colour," Craig sighed, "his fizzed a deep purple."

"Purple," David's head snapped up, "the same colours as the new refugees who were killed at the safe house."

"What are you talking about?" Craig said, "what safe house? What refugees?"

"Long story," David said, "but this may be something we have been missing. We've been trying to discover how Darcia keeps track of each experiment. Not only what was done to them. But how she knows what is happening even though they are away from her. The necklaces are one thing, but we couldn't figure out how Darcia was making people behave out of character or strangely."

"Did you come up with anything?" Craig asked.

"Not until now," David said, "if you wanted to keep track of where you were in a project containing hundreds of specimens, what would you do?"

Craig frowned, "I would find a way to keep a record. A spreadsheet or flow chart perhaps to track my position in the project. Maybe colour-code the stages I'm at and how far I have to go to get to the end."

"Right," David nodded, "you get to a stage where you are working on something new, too risky to have that information discovered. What would you do?"

"Find a different way of keeping track but would tie in with the project and make sense to me," he frowned.

"Exactly," David grinned, "Darcia is using the necklaces to keep track of how far she is in her main project. The devices in the head … her side project. If removed, the person dies. It's too risky to let that technology or the info it collects and stores be found by anyone else."

"You're saying all these years of random experimentation actually isn't random," Craig frowned.

"Yes," David said quietly. "It may have started that way while the military gave directives, but when they cut the funding for stepping over the mark of morality, Darcia simply moved forward on her own. By using the necklaces as markers, she can deploy and continue with her next step without worrying about where she is in the project. Keeping the clones, she monitored if the necklaces were still in play. She had to change that when too many of them were disabled."

"What kind of twisted mind puts that together? Using the necklaces as a progress chart," Craig muttered. "Keeping track of where and what has been done to each experiment. Plus, how they can be used. Apparently, she has turned the necklaces into death dealers. If someone displeases her or defects, she can push a button, and they are dead."

"Exactly," David said, pushing to his feet, "we need to let Breanna know what we know," he paused at Craig's hesitation, "what?"

"Can't this wait until morning?" Craig asked, "I think she needs time to herself."

"Let me guess," David crossed his arms, "you demanded she speak to you with respect, and she took you out."

"Did you see that?" Craig winced.

"No," David grinned, "I used to be military. Men who are commanding officers demand respect; they don't earn it."

"Yeah," Craig nodded, "that is what she said while pinning me to the ground with her boot."

"Ouch," David shook his head, "then redeem yourself."

"Not a good idea," Craig said, following David from the kitchen.

"We still need to tell her," David said.

Craig huffed behind David as they strode through the high ceilinged hacienda-style passages toward the sleeping quarters. Stopping abruptly, David knocked on a door.

"Where are we?" Craig asked.

"Breanna's quarters," David said quietly, "let me do the talking, okay. If you open your mouth, she may take out both of us."

Craig nodded as the door opened with a sleepy Breanna staring at them, "This better be good."

"Can we talk inside?" David asked.

Breanna stood in the doorway, staring at David and Craig. Nodding wearily, she moved to one side, letting them in.

"What is he doing here?" she asked, leaning against the solid wooden panel of the closed door.

"Are you okay?" Craig asked, narrowing his eyes on her, "I'm sensing physical fatigue."

Breanna pushed off the door, "What if you are? It's three in the morning, I want to sleep, but you're standing in my living space," she cocked her head, staring at them, "start talking or leave."

"We were drinking hot chocolate in the kitchen and talking," David said.

"I'm so happy for you," Breanna sighed, sinking into a nearby chair.

"Craig was telling me that Fiona found a device at the back of Steve's ear. Once the device was removed and destroyed, he died," David continued ignoring Breanna's sarcasm.

Breanna closed her eyes, "Rewind. He had a device behind his ear?"

"Yes," Craig nodded, sitting across from Breanna, "I didn't give the order for him to recon your place. Not the way he did. We did light recon when we got down here, but we all met up with Michael. I honestly thought Steve was with us."

"He's dead," Breanna said quietly, "what colour was the liquid when the necklace was destroyed?"

"Purple," Craig said quietly, "he joined my team two weeks ago; he was missing for five months."

"What were his enhancements?" Breanna asked.

"Immense strength, heightened hearing, extremely decisive, heightened nervous system, very fast," Craig frowned. "I don't understand why he displayed fear like he did and then suddenly became so steady."

"He never displayed anything like that before?" Breanna asked.

"Never," Craig said, "Steve was fearless."

"We can get to that," David said, "while talking about the colour of the necklace destroyed," he sat next to Breanna, leaning his elbows on his knees. "It came out that the necklaces of the refugees are the same colour as Steve's, which means they may have the same device found behind his ear."

"Fiona didn't find anything on the refugees," Breanna said.

"Clio had the signal jammer on, and she told me Fiona was away for three days," David said, "the same days the refugees arrived."

"Yes, but what are you getting at?" Breanna frowned.

"What if the refugees had devices implanted, making it possible for Darcia to control them after the necklaces were destroyed," David said. "These devices may be the next level of Darcia's plan."

"You could be right between Fiona not being there and the signal jammer being boosted twice; we wouldn't have known," Breanna said. "Was there a scar behind the ear housing the device?"

"A slight one," Craig said, "why?"

Breanna sat quietly while Craig looked at David nervously. David shrugged.

"Darcia is going to be at that seminar on the molecular gun," Breanna murmured, "I wonder how it actually works?"

"You don't think she wants to use it on people?" David asked, "what would she accomplish in doing so?"

"The molecular what?" Craig asked.

"Think about it," Breanna stood abruptly and began pacing, "she needs the technology we destroyed in her lab. She clearly had the technology; otherwise, those poor souls wouldn't have been killed."

"I'm missing a step," Craig pushed to his feet, "what technology is Darcia looking for?"

"She needs a Molecular gun. Get everyone up and in the command centre," Breanna said, "and I mean everyone."

The two men looked at each other before staring back at her, "Yes, it includes Craig's men."

Nodding, David rose, heading for the door, indicating Craig to follow. Breanna watched the two men leave. Shaking her head.

"Darcia, what are you planning now?" Breanna pulled on her running shoes before heading for the tech room.