Stepping through the hole in the wall into the one functional kitchen. Candles lit the gloom reminding the exhausted group of the late hour. Inky darkness outside the kitchen window illuminated by the crescent moon added to the flickering light as they sank into chairs around the table. No one spoke. Valencia put cold beers, wine, and water bottles on the table.

Jesse placed the bags of Mexican takeout alongside them. Silently, everyone began to eat and drink. Exhaustion pulsed on the air.

The silence continued as the table was cleared and coffee dripped through the filter. The roar of the ocean came to them through the glassless wooden door and the gaping hole in the kitchen wall.

"What now?" Clio murmured.

"We sleep," Jesse muttered back.

"Then?" Clio asked.

"We decide the next step," Reilly sighed, running his hands through his hair. "I had a look at the hole in the wall. It's not fixable."

"Could've told you that. Its floor to ceiling," Valencia said, "but it could be made into a connecting door."

"Full of ideas," Jesse grinned.

"We'll need to look at security measures," Breanna said, "we may be okay tonight. But Darcia will send others. Plus, we need to keep Clio and Valencia safe."

"What about yourself?" Jesse asked, staring unblinkingly.

"What about me?" Breanna shrugged, "we all know Darcia is going to do everything she can to get me back into her Madhouse."

"How are you going to keep safe?" Clio asked.

"Guess it will have to be in plain sight," Breanna sighed, "we'll work it out. Right now, we need sleep."

Rolling to her feet, Valencia pointed the others in the direction of bathrooms, towels, extra clothes, toiletries and finally bedding and beds. Slowly silence fell. The only noise heard was the crashing of the waves on the shore and the deep breathing of exhausted bodies.

"Dr Maden has returned," the nervous security officer cleared his throat, "alone."

Flinty chocolate brown eyes turned to the shifting form delivering the message. The sterile white environment of the laboratory seemed to become more chilly as the clock ticked.

"Alone," the single word had the security guard swallowing and edging toward the door, "where is he?"

"Medical wing," the guard said, "he asked to speak with you."

"What happened to the teams sent with him?" the chilling question came nearer.

"They … were retrieved ... they ..." the guard swallowed, "did not return with him."

"Leave," the word was growled.

The guard hurried from the laboratory. Darcia stalked out the door. Anger rolled through her; retrieving her sister should be easy for the number of people and their combined abilities. Breanna should have been returned to her control by now. Pushing open the door to the medical wing, she surveyed the scurrying staff.

Black-clad bodies lay on beds, in varying degrees of attendance, while others were laid in rows under white sheets. The number was startling. Darcia found Dr Madden at the end of the ward, comfortable and coldly watching the scene.

Darcia heard the rasping breath come from him, taking in the weakened form propped up by a mountain of pillows.

"What happened?" Darcia asked, looking from the drip attached to his arm to the number of monitors beeping around his bed.

"That is the question," he rasped. "Clio had no effect at all. Something has changed in Breanna, and there are four of them. Three have combat knowledge from what I saw; one is a civilian. We lost Clio to them. The forces you sent ... " he sucked in a breath, "lost mostly everyone. The super soldiers … two can be worked on … the rest..." he shook his head, "... gone."

"Gone?" Darcia frowned, "gone where?"

"Dead Darcia," his rasping whisper came forcefully, "all dead."

"Are you telling me," Darcia closed her eyes tightly, "apart from this handful of reusable experiments, my sister and her … traitors … killed the rest."

"Yes, my dear," Maden nodded, "all unusable, non-programmable, untrainable."

"How?" she hissed.

"The one way we all know to be permanent shot in the head," Maden sighed, "seems that sniper skills were either not deleted from the memory banks or could return as a skill."

Darcia's hate-filled eyes narrowed, "I have to get Breanna back."

"Once I am restored," Maden rasped, "I shall return to Breanna's hideout and retrieve her."

"Back up?"

"I think we have lost enough forces for one day," Maden muttered, "this I will do on my own."

"As you wish, my love," Darcia nodded, "my sister needs to learn her place... again, she seems to have a problem understanding who is superior."

Breanna looked around the kitchen. The glass door was solid. The basement was prepared for equipment Jesse had organised through his contacts. Breanna was a little suspicious when considering the speed that everything was happening. Jesse had saved her life and, from what was told, the lives of the others in the group. He had earned the chance to have the benefit of the doubt. Something niggled in the back of her mind; instinctively, she trusted him, but there was more to their connection than she could remember.

"Hey, Bre," Valencia said, "oh, here you are."

"Everything okay?" Breanna asked, looking over her shoulder.

"Want you to look downstairs?" Valencia moved toward the cupboard where the hidden staircase was found.

Breanna followed Valencia down the stairs into the cave-like room. Whoever had made the cave under the house knew what they were doing. The stairs were narrow, made out of jutting stones, yet broad enough for two people to use at a time. The bannister was made from hardwood and surprisingly well maintained. Rounding the natural curve Jesse and Reilly came into view on the far end of the cleared and cleaned space talking between themselves.

"What exactly am I looking for?" Breanna asked, catching their attention.

"It seems the doorway can be activated only from one side or the other." Reilly said, turning toward the two women, "we found the hidden compartment for the lever to open the door from this side."

"We were able to retrieve the handle," Jesse said, "we will try it in a few minutes."

"Good job. Jesse, tell me about the placement of the equipment," Breanna said, coming off the last step.

Jesse moved around the ample space, explaining what would be placed where and the equipment capabilities. Breanna listened intently, understanding the impact of each piece of equipment on the logistics of the command centre.

"Will the lever be accessible without moving anything?" Breanna asked, glancing at Reilly.

"The last piece of equipment will end around here," he indicated a point on the wall, "so opening the door will be as easy as coming down the stairs and pulling the lever."

Moving the metal bar jutting from the wall. Pulling it from up to the down position. Behind Breanna, the door lifted. The hairs on her arms rose as the door cleared above her head.

She noticed the alarm on Jesse's face as he pointed past her. Reilly, Jesse and Clio pulled their sidearms aiming in Breanna's direction, who was about to turn around but stopped at the feel of a cold blade against her throat.

"Thank you for making it so easy," the chilling voice of Dr Maden spoke behind her as the menacing coolness of a knife moved to a lethal section of her neck. "Anyone moves, and she will bleed out in front of you."

The threat hissed past Breanna's ear, "You thought you could drop me in the forest. You thought I would not come back," the chill in his voice seemed at odds with the hot breath against her cheek, "did you think I would not take you back to Darcia?"

"After you were gone," Breanna said, "I never thought of you at all."

An arm snaked around her neck, jerking her higher, making her balance on the tips of her running shoes, her hands grasping his arm, trying to make space to breathe. Sagging, she ducked her chin down as much as possible without the knife penetrating her throat.

"Breanna," Jesse's weapon slowly lowered, "are you okay?"

Breanna frowned. She didn't understand his concern. A slight nod was given before taking in a deep breath, stepping back and latching her leg around the back of Maden's, before twisting around. She felt the knife pinch into her throat, a slow, warm trickle started to slide down her neck. Sudden energy gathered, surging into her arms. Quickly she pulled and twisted Madden's wrist, pulling the arm down. Behind her, Maden grunted in pain; he stepped back from his position, giving Breanna enough space to bend, twist behind him and flip him over her shoulder.

The body didn't land on the floor, as Breanna expected. Instead, it went airborne into the tunnel. Breanna watched, stunned as Maden thudded into the far wall of the tunnel corridor before sliding down onto the sandy, damp floor.

Stepping back through the entrance, Breanna looked across at a stunned Reilly, "Close it."

"Are you okay?" Jesse asked, holstering his weapon.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Breanna frowned, watching the motionless form of Dr Madden.

"The air around you turned a weird colour," Jesse spoke quietly, "somewhere between blue and red."

"Then you seemed to ..." Valencia shook her head, "crackle."

"I went a weird colour and then crackled," Breanna shook her head, "all in your imagination."

"I don't think it was," Reilly said, "remember, you can go back and look. The security camera down here is functional."

"Fine," Breanna said, "once we have finished setting up, I'll have a look. Now, close it."

"Closing. Are you sure you are okay?" Reilly asked, pulling the level activating the door.

Breanna met his questioning gaze, "What do you mean?"

"The others are trying to be nice in telling you that you went pyro on us," Clio sank onto a step, her weapon still in her hand.

"Now that you are approachable," Valencia chuckled, " you are approachable, right? We won't get scorched?"

"No," Breanna shook her head.

"Great, then where do we go from here?" Valencia asked, grinning.

Breanna shook her head, returning the smile, "We know the door is functional; perhaps a security camera in the tunnel would be a good addition. It will help us check that area before opening the door. Jesse has a good layout for the equipment. We need to move forward and set this place up so we can get the safe house up and running."

"Good point there," Reilly chuckled, "I don't think Jesse can see through walls and doors."

"They do limit my abilities. Let's get to it," Jesse said, clapping his hands, "I'll get onto my contact about the arrival of the equipment."

"Valencia, can Clio and you look through the supplies and food we have down here," Breanna said, "we'll need an inventory of what can be used and what cannot. Reilly, can you assist Jesse with the equipment set up. I'm going to look at the security requirements we'll need."

"Sure," Valencia said.

"On it," Reilly nodded.

"Will do," Clio muttered, pushing up from her seat on the step and holstering her weapon.

Breanna watched the small group head off in different directions before taking the stairs to the living quarters above.

The starlit, midnight sky peeked through the draping ferns above Clio's head. She walked to the edge of the terracotta tiled patio, sinking her bare feet into the cooling sand of the adjoining beach. Breathing in deeply, she tasted the salt on the gentle ocean breeze.

Paradise. After years in The Madhouse, Clio acknowledged this moment in time, space and in each heartbeat as nothing more than pure, untainted paradise.

"It's beautiful here," Reilly said quietly, from beside her, "I never wanted to walk away from the ocean when I first got here."

"I take it you were in The Madhouse as well," Clio murmured.

"For too long," Reilly nodded, "if not for Jesse, I would not have made it out … of anything."

"I don't remember who I'm to thank," Clio shook her head, "the last thing I remember before waking up …" she sighed, "was gripping pain."

"Moments like that," Reilly shook his head, "no one should experience."

Silently the pair stood watching the crests of white waves move in the inky darkness before crashing and disappearing on the shoreline. The opening of the kitchen door tugged a heavy sigh from Clio. Turning, she found Valencia chatting a mile a minute with Breanna and Jesse as they brought out trays of food and drink. On cue, her stomach rumbled, her mouth watered.

"When was the last time you ate properly?" Reilly chuckled.

Clio frowned thoughtfully, "Apart from last night ... I …" her frown deepened, "I'm not sure."

"Well, let's make this day one of eating meals we remember," Reilly smiled slightly, easing the tension in the air.

Nodding, Clio returned the smile, "Sounds good."

Together they moved toward the trio, placing dishes, wine glasses and a bottle or two of wine on a side table. Clio couldn't remember the last time she drank wine, coffee, or tea. Settling into a chair, she watched the interaction of the small group of unsuspecting allies. The most unlikely people she would call friends, only time would tell.