15

The sun woke Scott the next morning. Hannah was already looking at him, tucked up against his chest, eyes wide and unblinking. Music still played in the background.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

Hannah shifted against him, her skin so soft, but he had to make sure she had no regrets. She inhaled deeply, her chest now rubbing against his, tempting him to repeat their lovemaking.

"I'm not sure. Having an aria in the background sort of made it like the movies, but — " She shifted, and winced.

"You're hurt."

"No, no. I'm fine. Just a little sore. I stretched a bunch of muscles I haven't used in a while. It'll go away."

He ran his fingers through her long and messy hair. "There are pain killers in the medicine cabinet. Feel free to take what you need with breakfast."

She propped herself up on one elbow to look around the room. "I guess we shouldn't stay here. Thomas might need the yacht."

Scott pulled the blanket off himself and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I shouldn't be here at all. If we're going to get busted, better they find us far apart."

"Then what?" Hannah stayed in the bed, tucking the sheet around her chest. "If they really do go through with arresting us?"

Scott stood and Hannah gasped. "What?" he asked.

"I saw some of your bruises last night, but not all of them. What's Highlight doing to you at the Arena?"

He didn't want to lie, so he turned to look out the window. He'd tell the truth, but leave out the details. He'd been doing that a lot lately. "It's not Highlight. It's McNamara's bodyguard. We've been sparring."

"It looks as if he nailed you more than once."

"He's a challenge, that's for sure." He looked back to see her face. To his relief, there was no condemnation there, no judgment. She knew he needed this, he needed to feel useful. He loved her, but he needed more in his life than just love. So did Hannah, which to his mind is what made them perfect for each other. Still, he wanted to confirm that she wasn't putting on a brave face for his sake. "You're not angry, are you?"

A confused looked crossed her face instead. "Why would I be?"

"You've literally rebuilt my body from scratch twice. You must be getting tired of seeing your handiwork destroyed."

She slipped out of bed, leaving the sheet behind. They both stood nude, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "If sparring with the Shield makes dealing with Highlight's training easier, if it keeps you in shape, then I don't care how many times I have to heal you." She touched one of the bruises on his left shoulder. "That doesn't mean I'm going to leave you this way."

With that, she disappeared, leaving behind only a vague shadow of herself. Scott stood still, trying to feel where she was in his body, but unlike when she’d stitched up his broken bones, all he could sense was an odd tingling in various spots. Less than a minute later she reappeared.

"No more bruises."

He leaned down and kissed her hard. "Thank you."

"Do you have to train today?"

His frustration escaped in a growl before he could stop it. "Yes, this afternoon. But I'm going to swing by to see Rita Han this morning, Betty Chung's sister. Nik agreed with me last night that I should talk to her too. He said I could get a different perspective on both Betty’s and Jimmy's behavior. He suggested a bunch of questions I should ask. After I pick up fresh clothes at the penthouse, I'll head over there."

"Good. I'm going to go back to the hospital. McNamara said I would have access to Jimmy's records, now that I'm an official employee. It'll keep my attention off the Committee."

He couldn't resist one more kiss. "Call me tonight after dinner. If we're not in jail, we can talk about what we find out."

"And if we are in jail?"

She was so dear to him, how could not pull her back into his arms? "I'll translocate you to me and then translocate us both to somewhere safe."

Her sigh broke his heart, as she laid her head on his chest. "Is there such a place?"

"I'll find one. I promise." He stroked her hair one last time. "Shower here. I'll head inside, grab something to eat, and see if Evan will fly me downtown."

She stepped away, picked up her clothes off the floor, and headed for the bathroom. He washed up in the bathroom across the hall before he dressed, and grabbed his gloves off the chair. Back at the house, he found Garret in the kitchen.

"Alek left you a note on the table." The butler handed him a plate already filled with eggs Atlantic. "Will Ms. Quinn be joining us for breakfast?"

If Garrett guessed what he and Hannah had been up to the night before, he used his best butler's discretion to keep it to himself. Besides, the smell of the salmon was making Scott’s mouth water. "She was showering last I saw her."

"Very good, sir."

Scott shoved a bite of drippy eggs into his mouth as he made his way to the dining room. Alek's note lay at the head of the table. He could have texted, but then, maybe Alek didn't have the number to the phone Scott had taken from Thomas's vault? He'd have to make sure everyone in the family had it before the end of the day.

Brought your Harley back from the harbor before the Committee could confiscate it. It's in the garage. Filled the tank. Will be at Thomas's this afternoon. I have a plan. I'll give you the details when you get here.

What was this plan? And why did Alek, and not Evan, bring back his Harley? Maybe Evan had asked him to? Was Evan not feeling well enough?

No, Hannah would have been thorough with her healing. Alek's attitude toward him might be turning slower than Evan's, but Scott knew better than to make a thing of it. He finished his breakfast and headed for the garage.

He kept the cycle at a slow pace until he turned onto the main road. Traffic was lighter than usual. It was as if Thunder City was holding its breath. He turned down the next street. Betty Chung's sister also lived in the Fargrounds.

He made it to the West Ashland Park, which separated the Bayview neighborhood where the Blackwoods lived from a mixed-use area with a denser population. The park had about fifteen acres open to the public, but he hadn't walked its trails since elementary school. He remembered enough about the park to know where the back entrance was located. He could take a short cut through on the dirt trail and find a good hiding place in case he needed to translocate himself and Hannah away from the estate. Maybe even stash some supplies there ahead of time.

His memories were the only thing that saved his ass when the Shield stepped into the middle of the road, rifle raised.

Scott skid his motorcycle into the short driveway just as the Shield fired. Son-of-bitch was using live ammo. Scott made it twenty feet, only to discover his escape route stymied by the guard arms chained shut.

He could see from the rearview mirror the Shield rounding onto the drive, his arms cradling the rifle. Scott ditched his bike, dove under the guard arms and hit the grass to the left.

What had gone wrong? What had he done? Why was the Shield trying to kill him after they'd worked together at the harbor?

He could hear the Shield in his head as he ran. Wrong question, Grey. The Shield wouldn't waste time planning to hunt him. It was a perfect set-up for a live-fire exercise with Scott as the target.

Scott hid behind a generous oak to catch his breath. He had his own weapons with him, of course. He reached for his Ruger.

Wrong answer again, damn you. You failed to pull the rifle yesterday.

The Shield wanted him to use his Alt ability, not his guns. He pulled his hand off the holster.

The birds chirped their early morning song. The small river rushed over rocks. Did he hear a twig break to the west?

The river ran diagonally across the park. Was the Shield herding him in that direction? Could he pull a gun from a moving target?

Wooden picnic tables and barbecue pits lined the river. What could he use besides his guns?

What the fuck is it with you and the wrong questions?

Fine. The Shield used barriers to protect himself. If the Shield used a full body barrier, how long could he hold it? A full body barrier would cut him off from oxygen. If he kept his barrier lowered to breathe, he wouldn't raise it until he had to. Right now, the Shield more than likely didn't think he'd need a barrier because he didn't believe Scott could find him.

Scott closed his eyes and covered his nose. He imagined the dust from the nearest fire pit — small, dirty, damaging — and yanked.

The dust slammed around him, the cloud covering a solid ten feet in all direction. A short, sharp half-sneeze, half-choke gave the Shield away. So close. How had the man gotten so close?

Didn't matter. Scott charged forward, using a kick to get his point across. Then he pushed his advantage, his fists busy, not holding back.

The Shield recovered after Scott's second punch. They were practically on top of each other. Not bound by police rules, not caring much for T-CASS's restrictions either, Scott let loose with his fury. That didn't stop the Shield from fighting back, hard and mean.

Voices traveled up the river, growing louder. The brief distraction was all the Shield needed to sucker punch Scott in the head, driving him to his knees. His ears ringing, he could only watch the Shield as the Neut jumped back and ran.

More voices. The Shield's and someone else's. Scott forced himself off the ground and moved away from the cover of trees to the path.

Fucking hell.

The Shield had taken an early morning jogger hostage, his handgun to the woman's head, his rifle still on his back. He was actually smirking. Scott's fury burned hot. What did that son-of-a-bitch think he was doing?

"Okay, hotshot. Save the hostage, if you can." The Shield whispered something into the woman's ear.

"Help. Help," she called, not terribly convincing with a giggle. How the hell had the Shield convinced her that he wasn't really a threat? He looked like a threat without even trying.

Role-play or not, Scott reached for the Shield's hand gun and pulled. Nothing happened. He pulled again. Shit, he couldn't pull the gun through The Shield's barrier. But, if he couldn't pull the gun, how could The Shield shoot? How had he done it during the harbor attack?

"I could have killed her and ordered out for breakfast by now," the Shield taunted.

Scott's face burned, the fire in his belly raged. In the blink of an eye, the hostage disappeared and reappeared in his arms.

"Oh, my." The woman looked up at him. She had short, snow-white hair, with a grandmother's kind face.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am." He couldn't stop the stutter. "I meant to pull his gun away — "

Before he could finish, the grandmother patted him on the chest. "Oh, don't worry. There's nothing to get this old heart pounding than to have a couple of young studs fighting over me. You did a fine job. Keep up the good work."

She gave him a flirtatious wink and a wave to the Shield, who actually waved back, before jogging off.

The Shield's smile had disappeared by the time he walked over to Scott. "You were supposed to pull the gun."

"No shit. I couldn't from under your barrier."

"I didn't have my shield raised. You caught me off guard with the dust." The Shield holstered his gun. "Maybe you just didn't want it bad enough."

Scott burned with failure, and yet it wasn't quite as bad as when he was with Highlight. At least the Shield admitted he'd been caught off guard. The partial victory heartened him. "Maybe you're just an asshole."

"I'm always an asshole. You knew she wasn't in jeopardy, so when pulling my gun became too hard you took the easy way out. If I really wanted to kill her, I still had the gun to shoot both of you. You need to think ahead. Stop panicking about death. People die in war. They die in our line of work. You need to accept that you can't save everyone and sacrifices have to be made."

Scott looked away from the accusations. "If I’d pulled the hand gun or the rifle, you still could have broken her neck."

"You're damn right I would have broken her neck, but you would still have the ability to fight. You need to think ahead and stop being a pussy about killing people."

Scott recoiled. "I've killed people. I killed at least six yesterday. Even before Dane, I killed two people. It's not something I celebrate."

"Well, congratulations. I don't celebrate my kills either. That doesn't stop me from doing my job."

"Which is what, exactly? You mumble about a war, you dragged me through this bullshit training exercise. Why don't you just tell me what you're getting out of this?”

More voices echoed in the background. The Shield grabbed Scott by the arm and yanked him off the path and into the woods.

"It's about the Court of Blood. It's about what they're doing to Alts."

"How do you know about the Court of Blood?" The only people who knew about the Court were the Blackwoods and Thomas's elite team of hackers.

"I work for them."

Scott tripped over the pronouncement. "How? Why?"

"Why is not your damn business. How is what I'm teaching you."

"You're grooming me? You're recruiting me into...whatever it is they're doing." Scott tried to stop, but the Shield was unstoppable.

"Grooming you, yes. Recruiting you, no. The Court of Blood needs to be stopped, but it has to happen from the inside. I want to bring you into the organization. I'm trying to train you so they can't corrupt you."

They reached the entrance to the park, where Scott had ditched his bike. The Shield let go of Scott's arm.

"Why me?"

"You have potential, Grey. You can make the tough shots when you need to."

"How do you figure that? Yes, I'm a good shot, but there are others who are just as good as, if not better than, me. Ask the SWAT commander. Or, hell, just go down to the shooting range near the Fargrounds."

"They're not Alts. Alts don't carry guns. Your mother saw to that."

"You mean T-CASS doesn't carry guns. You're an Alt, and you carry a gun. You even have clearance for the Arena. How do you know there aren't any other Neuts who are good shots?"

"Maybe there are, but they're not you. You have the combination of police training, Alt power, and a history of getting the job done. Neuts with guns only use them on the range. That's the only place they're allowed to use them."

"Legally." To believe all Neuts kept their guns at home while freelancing was a naïve belief.

For a second it looked as if the Shield was going to yank off his sunglasses in exasperation. Scott's breath hitched, hoping he could finally look the other man in the eyes. There was a secret there, but at the last moment the Shield only rubbed his forehead. "If I thought for a second that there was another Neut in this city who could kill two Alts and an agent of the Court of Blood, I would be training them, not you. You're what I have to work with."

Scott chuffed his disbelief. "You sure know how to build a guy's confidence. For a moment I thought I was the chosen one. Now, I'm just the least worst of all the possible terrible solutions."

"The chosen one is a myth of twisted magical thinking. You're real, Grey. Your skills are real. Your power is real. I don't have any more time to waste explaining myself. If you're in, I'll teach you what you need to know. If you have doubts — if you think this is all just a joke, then tell me now and I'll find someone else."

"You just said there is no one else." Scott leaned against the guard arm, the wood rough under his backside. This clandestine meeting with the Shield made him feel alive again. Hannah gave him comfort and solace, and a reason to get up in the morning, but the Shield offered him a destiny with instructions on how to get there. He hadn't realized how much he needed that until now.

T-CASS looked down on him. It would take more than a few parlor tricks with bean bags to gain their respect, and even then, he didn't know if he wanted their respect. He didn't care about T-CASS and they only tolerated him because of his family, because of Hannah.

She would join T-CASS eventually and they would take care of her. If he wanted to be a part of her life, he needed to be a part of T-CASS. He wanted what Thomas had with Catherine, but maybe T-CASS wasn't the only way to make it happen. Maybe The Shield could offer him an option.

"Okay, I'm in. I'll help you take down the Court of Blood."

The muscles at the very tips of The Shield's lips relaxed. Not even close to a real smile, but a damn sight closer to any other emotion Scott had seen.

"Where do we go from here?

"You go nowhere. You use T-CASS to your advantage. You hate playing with beanbags, but use the access you have to build your other skills. The ones I'm teaching you. The ones you will need once you're undercover."

Scott was already making a mental list of things he could do from within the Arena. "What about my family? They're going to want to know why I'm suddenly nose-diving into training."

"You cannot confide in them. You're tempted to tell Carraro what you're up to. Forget it. He can't help you with this. And ditch the girl. She's a liability you can't afford."

Scott bristled at the order. "No. I won't give up Hannah. She's the only reason why I'm even considering this. The Court of Blood wants her. I want to protect her. Dumping her isn't an option."

"Keeping her isn't an option either. You think the Court is going to allow her to slip through their fingers? Why do you think they let Dane raise her? Her power is a game changer for the Alt community. Healing is a half-step short of resurrection. Entire religions are built around what she can do."

Scott's heart screamed. It can't be the only way. What had he just stepped into? Yesterday he was thinking of asking the Shield to rescue Hannah if Thunder City arrested her. "I'll..."

"No, you won't think about it. You'll do it. You don't have a choice. You're a part of this now. A part of the solution. Back away from me, and Hannah will be in more danger than when she was trapped inside the quarry."

He had to find another way, a way where he could protect Hannah and still...what? Love her? Live with her?

He was going to make sure Hannah lived. Thomas often called him stubborn, but loved him anyway. Scott's heart clutched at his father's words. Hannah was almost as stubborn as himself.

Scott nodded to let the Shield know he'd agreed, but what he had planned couldn't be further from the truth.

Hannah pushed open the door to the video room with her hip, her breakfast balanced on a large plate, but stopped short when she saw Alek on the floor in front of the coffee table, fiddling with a new device. She looked around for Evan, but didn't see him. Evan had been the first twin to talk to her after she'd arrived in Thunder City.  

Alek, she didn't know so well. The only reason she knew this was Alek and not his brother was because he was the techie of the two. He always had a gadget or tablet in hand, usually gaming, something she knew nothing about. Since Alek had his back to her, Hannah figured she could back out and return later when he was finished.

"You don't have to leave."

Caught in the act, Hannah stepped into the room. "Um. I can eat in the dining room so I'm not in your way."

"You're not." Alek stood up and brushed off his jeans. "I just got back a little while ago. I brought Cory's cycle back from the harbor. Now, I'm installing a new VR system for you and Cory."

"Both of us?"

"Yeah, hang on." He motioned Hannah to sit on the couch. "I'll go over to Thomas's place this afternoon. I need to install the same set-up there for Cory."

"What is it?" She put her breakfast down on the coffee table and took the headset Alek handed her.

"It's a standard VR set-up, but I wrote the software. It runs on one of Carraro's private servers. Nothing fancy, but it's a way for you and Cory to be together without breaking any laws. You'll have complete privacy."

Hannah spun the headset around in her hands. "I don't understand."

Alek broke down a cardboard box. "I created a world as part of a gaming system I'm going to build and sell. Right now it's only world building — background scenes. It's not even close to beta-testing yet. No one else can get in there. You'll have a few options: strolling along a beach, there's a forest with bike paths, sailing on an ocean — you mentioned once you like to go sailing?"

Hannah nodded, her throat tightening up again when she thought of Roger. He's happy now, floating in the waves of Mystic Bay forever. The tightness in her throat eased.

"You're not going to be able to pick up a gun and defeat the evil empire or anything like that. I mean, eventually I'll finish writing that part of the program, but it'll take time — "

"This sounds perfect." Hannah clutched the headset to her chest as she sat down on the couch while Alek cleaned up the mess. "Thank you. How do I contact Scott through this?"

Alek sat next to her to walk her through the controls.

"Got it?" Alek asked.

"I think so." Hannah fiddled with the headset. "Alek, you're not doing this because I healed you, are you? I mean, it's not necessary. I heal people because I want to, not because I expect — "

Alek held up a hand, so she shut up.

"I'm doing this because Evan yanked my chain last night and told me to stop being an asshole. Not just to Cory, but to Thomas and well, anyone else who pisses me off. He's right. I hold grudges longer than he does. Cory was there when I needed family in the hospital. You healing me was just a bonus. I'm doing this because it's time I stopped being an asshole."

"I never thought you were an asshole."

Alek shrugged. "I think you've had to deal with a lot worse than just a run of the mill asshole in your life. You deserve much better."

Alek stood to leave, but then he turned back with the oddest look on his face. "Hannah, even though you and Cory will be operating in a virtual environment, that doesn't mean you can't be hurt. You know that right?"

"Of course." Hannah gave Alek her most confident grin, thankful his confession was over. Having someone sort of apologize to her gave her a weird feeling of worthiness that she wasn't used to. "I read an article about this while I was at Star Haven Memorial. A medical journal I borrowed from a break room. It talked about everything: people tripping over furniture, seizures, muscle spasms, eye strain — "

"No, I don't mean that." Alek sat back down next to her, reaching out to hold her gloved hand. His cheeks looked red, like he was blushing. "I mean, I don't know how close you and Cory became before the Oversight Committee told you that you couldn't touch, but if you two decide to try to get closer, um, physically, in this sort of environment — "

"Sex? You think Scott and I are going to have sex virtually?" Talk about being a day late and a hymen short.  

"That's not why I wrote this program." Alek let go of her hand, as if he hadn't realized he had taken it in the first place. "I wrote it just to give you two some privacy to be together, but if things do progress — "

Hannah could hardly hear Alek's words as her own blush rushed to her ears. After last night, virtual sex couldn't beat the real thing, but if it was their only option until the Committee set them free, then — "I wouldn't do that. I mean, we wouldn't do that here in the house."

Alek paused. "I'm not judging, because it's not my business, but Catherine isn't always the best when it comes to talking about that sort of thing. I mean, I had my dad, and Cory had Carraro. Given your history with Miranda Dane I wasn't sure if you needed someone to talk to before you plugged in — "

"You guys were talking about me and Scott having sex?" Could this conversation get any worse?

Alek turned away from her. He looked like he was trying not to laugh. "No, but I've been using VR for quite some time now. I've seen what happens in there with people. Sometimes people mistake VR for reality and other times they mistake it for a safe place where anything goes without consequences. I'm just saying that if you make the decision to get closer to Cory, um, Scott, that being in a VR environment will protect you in certain ways, but in other ways, like emotionally, you could still get hurt."

Hannah wasn't sure what to say. Before last night, she might have been the least sexually experienced eighteen-year-old on the planet, but Alek was the last person she expected to have a birds and bees sort of concern for her.

"Thanks, Alek. I promise, whatever happens between me and Scott — I'll be careful."

He seemed relieved, patting her gloved hand once more before he left the room. What just happened here? Hannah sat for a few moments, both touched by Alek's concern for her, but more worried that she’d actually managed to have a life-changing night with Scott and no one had noticed. Alek hadn't seen anything different about her. This was a good thing, right? Wasn't this why she'd fled to Thunder City in the first place? To disappear? Live a quiet life where no one took notice of her?

Miranda is dead. You don't have to hide from her. You shouldn't have to hide from the Committee.

A familiar buzz tickled her backside. She'd forgotten to turn her phone off. The recorded message icon flashed. She double checked the number. It was McNamara.

"Hannah?" McNamara answered on the first ring. He'd been waiting for her.

"Yes. I'm sorry, I'm eating breakfast. I'll be there as soon as I can get a ride." She'd been so flustered about talking to Alek about sex that she'd forgotten to ask him for a lift.

"The earlier, the better."

"Did something happen? Did the Oversight Committee tell you I couldn't work with you?"

"No, but if the Committee does try something, I think it would be better if you were here at the hospital. I can protect you if you're here."

Hannah had to figure he meant the VIP floor. It was so far underneath the hospital, it was the last place the Committee would look. It would buy her some time if she needed to escape, but Scott wouldn't have access. At least, he wouldn't have physical access. She wondered if he could translocate her from so far underground.

"Hannah, I promise. I'll be right beside you the whole time. I won't let anything bad happen to you. You won't be alone."

She took a deep, calming breath. "Thank you. I'll be there soon. I just need to get a ride."

"I'll see you then." McNamara disconnected the line before she could.

Half an hour later, Hannah used her secret card to get back to McNamara's VIP level office. She still closed her eyes in the elevator, but her shaking wasn't quite as bad. Maybe she was getting used to closed doors?

This time when she stepped into the hallway, the Shield wasn't there standing guard. Without him, the hallway appeared incomplete, but far less threatening. She knocked on McNamara's door, but there was no answer. Her phone buzzed in her pocket again.

Meet me in the first autopsy room on the left ~ M.

The eerie quiet made the whole set-up creepier than it should have been. All the doors to all of the rooms were closed, so she knocked on the first autopsy room door.

He met her in the doorway, already wearing scrubs. Instead of inviting her inside the room to watch, he slipped into the hallway and closed the door behind him, as if he didn't want her to see what was in the room.

"How are you feeling this morning?"

Various song lyrics about being a real woman flittered through her mind, none of which she was going to repeat for McNamara. "I'm not sure."

He looked her over, as if searching for visible wounds. For a moment, she wondered if he could tell she wasn't a virgin anymore.

"Confusion is natural after trauma, and you've had quite a few traumas in the past few days."

"The past two weeks."

McNamara nodded, his sympathy obvious now and more welcome. His scrubs included gloves, so he was safe. She didn't flinch when he placed a soft hand on her shoulder.

"Since we lost the cadavers from the quarry raid, I suddenly find myself with more free time on my hands. I thought we'd try a few experiments with your Alt ability."

Experiments? The shadow of Miranda passed through her soul. How could this be? McNamara had saved her from the Committee. He’d thrown himself on top of her to protect her from the explosion at the harbor. He was nothing like Miranda. Experiment was just a word and she reacted to it like it was a closed door. It wasn't. It couldn't be. Not here, safe in the hospital with McNamara.

"Are you sure we should?" she asked, stalling.

McNamara moved past her to push open the door to another room behind her. "Why not? We're not working on the living, are we? It's not like we could cause a cadaver any harm or pain."

Not causing pain was true. Not causing harm, though? Everyone deserved some dignity after they died, didn't they? Even the cadavers transported from Star Haven would have been buried or cremated if their bodies weren't at the bottom of the harbor, including Miranda's.

Miranda's body polluted the harbor. Hannah pulled herself away from that morbid thought.

"You needn't worry about ethics," McNamara continued. "These folks donated themselves to further the cause of science. I can show you the paperwork if you wish."

Now Hannah felt foolish. Of course McNamara would make sure he had consent before experimenting. He was a doctor. Hannah never should have doubted him.

"Sorry. My thoughts drifted. I probably should get changed first."

McNamara motioned toward the counter. "I took the liberty of finding some scrubs for you. I had to guess at the size. Is medium big enough?"

Hannah hadn't been a size small since middle school. She snatched the scrubs off the counter.

"I'll leave you alone here to change. Come in when you're ready. Don't worry about your gloves."

Hannah changed as quickly as she could. When she entered the first autopsy room, she saw McNamara had a new cadaver inside, but this time, the cadaver was hooked up to an IV and a cardiopulmonary bypass.

"What's all of this?" She couldn't even guess why a cadaver would need a machine to replace the functions of the heart and lungs.

"Part two of what you started before the harbor attack."

"Are you not sure she's dead? Is that what I'm checking for you?"

"Oh, she's quite dead. Heart attack, poor thing. Only thirty-six and quite healthy. Not sure what brought the heart attack on, which is why she's down here."

"Down here in the VIP level, but not upstairs? Is she famous?"

"No. We're just borrowing her for a little while."

A niggle of doubt wormed its way into her heart. She wasn't as fluent in medical ethics as she was in anatomy, but this setup reminded her of a few horror films.

McNamara must have noticed her doubt. "Really, Hannah. I didn't select the cadaver easily or without the utmost reverence. Her family, if she has one, will only be grateful if we can solve the mystery of why she died. They'll be even more grateful if we can figure it out without slicing her open, wouldn't you think?"

It all sounded reasonable. The autopsy process was a barbaric way of solving mysteries, but so far no one had found a way of replacing it. At least, not until now. McNamara had no reason to want to harm a dead woman, and he was her mentor after all. Of course he'd want to push her to her limits. How could either one of them know what she was capable of if she didn't push past her boundaries? "Sorry. To the families, the autopsy process must look like a necessary evil."

"Is it, though?" McNamara pulled her closer to the body. "Does it have to be a necessary evil?"

Now Hannah could see what McNamara had done. He'd hooked up an IV to push blood into the body. The CPB machine was forcing it to circulate.

"You want me to bloodsurf through her?"

"You're a smart woman, Hannah. Your knowledge of anatomy is near perfect. Let's take it one step further. We now know that you can penetrate a dead body, but you still need blood flowing to surf through it. This one has blood flowing through it. Try to do what you did before. Try to surf to her heart and let me know what you find there."

It all sounded so reasonable. Saving lives, healing people. She didn't do anything different than your average doctor, nurse, or even paramedic. But this was different. The wrongness made her skin crawl.

"Hannah. This is just an autopsy. You're not doing anything more than what I would do. You're just not going to leave the scars on her body that I would. It's okay. You're doing the right thing."

McNamara's reassuring voice conquered her concerns. Of course it would be okay. She wasn't doing anything that McNamara hadn't done hundreds of times, but she could be cleaner about it. If it worked.

She placed her hand on the woman's chest, just over her left breast. Might as well start as close to her target as possible.

Inside. It worked. It actually worked, except the blood flow lacked the pulse of a beating heart. The smooth ride to the bicuspid valve didn't require any thought on her part to keep herself moving forward. She didn't have to fight the current. As fast as she could move in a living human, without a pulse she moved even faster.

She still had work to do, so she used her newfound momentum and zipped through the rest of the woman's body. When she reemerged, almost as quickly as she entered, she had figured out the mystery.

"You did it!"

McNamara sounded almost as amazed as she felt. Her whole body tingled with the joy of discovering an amazing gift.

"I did. And, I think I know why she died. Diabetes, possibly undiagnosed, and she smoked."

"Well, that does seem plausible and reasonable. I'll follow up on your findings." He started to disconnect the equipment.

"Wait. You mean you're going to autopsy her anyway?"

McNamara paused, but removed his hands from the switch. "Oh, Hannah, I'm so sorry. But, this was an experiment. An unauthorized one at that. I do have to perform the autopsy the normal way. It's still my job. Until the Committee is satisfied with your control, this has to remain between us."

Of course, dummy. She couldn't just break the laws of science, not to mention what she suspected were several dozen ethical standards, and expect the doctors on the Committee to overlook that. It could be years before they allow her to do something like this again.

"It'll be okay, Hannah." McNamara returned to disconnect the CPB machine. "I promise. Now that we know what you're capable of we can start working toward the goal of showing the Committee by using proper channels. It'll take time, but it will be done."

Yes, it would. McNamara would see that it would get done. She'd never met anyone who could navigate through the maze of rules with the slickness of oil like he did. He had a way of making you trust him, so when he did break the rules, no one would believe it — and even if they did, they would forgive him. Just as she did. Or, did she forgive him because he gave her permission to join him in his subterfuge?

At the end of the day, she was responsible for her actions. The Committee might say she was influenced by someone she trusted, but McNamara hadn’t forced her to bloodsurf through the woman on the table. She did it herself. She made the choice. A poor choice by certain standards, but she'd been making a lot of those lately.

"Are you planning to call someone?" he asked. McNamara wasn't even looking at her, and yet he knew she'd pulled her phone out of her pocket. She hadn't even realized what she'd done until he mentioned it.

She put the phone back and slipped on her gloves instead. "Sorry. I was going to call Scott. I wanted to tell him about our success, but I guess I shouldn't."

"No, you really shouldn't. Have you given any thought to what we talked about yesterday?"

"About breaking up with Scott?" How could she answer a question like that after last night? "I haven't thought about it because I can't do it. He means too much to me."

McNamara brought the sheet up to cover the cadaver and motioned her to the door. Together they walked back to his office.

The Shield was still missing. Maybe McNamara didn't need as much protection down here? They appeared to be the only two people on the whole floor — and yet, who had helped McNamara set up the autopsy room? Who was going to bring the body back? It seemed odd he would do either by himself.

The oddness of the situation disappeared when McNamara motioned for her to sit behind his desk. Jimmy Chung's records had already appeared on the screen. McNamara was trying to help her, so she dug into the records as McNamara left, remembering to keep the door open. He might want her to break up with Scott, but Hannah had other plans.