CHAPTER TEN

The Regulatory Committee met at nine in the morning to rule on Danner's fate.  Anna was outside the conference room with a nervous stomach at eight-thirty precisely.  She thought about coming earlier, but that meant facing Ron.  He was scheduled to testify for The Enemy, hence she was not sure she could be in the same room without clawing his eyes out.

The low murmur that came through the closed door was uninformative.  There was not likely to be any shouting.  Dawson had no stomach for noisy confrontations; Wayland struck her as the sort who would consider raising his voice to be unprofessional.  She knew little about the Committee itself.  Most were faculty track, the kind who had time for administrative bullshit.  None of them were in Plague Studies -- that would be considered conflict of interest.

Which was why she, as the newest committee member, sat outside in the hall.

The door opened and a man came out with a coffee tray.  He looked blankly at Anna and hurried off.  Anna sighed, wishing she had the nerve to put her ear against the door.

Footsteps again, coming back at a rapid clip.  Thinking it was the man returning with more coffee, she glanced up and felt her throat constrict.  It was Ron, striding toward the conference room, two of his aides close at his heels.  He saw her and hesitated.  Her eyes hardened and she looked pointedly off in another direction.  He moved on, opening the door without knocking and going in.  A moment later, the hubbub she had halfway been hoping for was clearly audible.

The door banged open again and Ron was back out.  This time he did stop. "Anna...."

"Don't talk to me!"

He looked as though he wanted to ignore that order, but one of his aides said: "Sir -- we had best..."

Ron nodded curtly, cutting him off and the three hurried away. Whatever his news, it had ended the meeting abruptly.  The men and one woman on the Committee emerged from the room.  They looked upset and worried.  She craned her neck, searching for Dawson, but he didn't appear until the room was nearly emptied. When she finally saw him, he was gray and sweating.

"Oh, God," she cried.  "What happened?"

"We almost had 'em," he said angrily.  "The Committee was ready to turn down the petition when your boyfriend busted in and announced that Security was taking him."

"WHAT?"

"You heard me.  Security's taking Renwolf!"

"Why?"

"I don't know!  Banning objected, of course, and demanded a writ.  Which, naturally, Sheridan had."

"Oh, great!"

"You got it.  They're taking him first thing in the morning.  Just when we start to get really useful information, this has to happen.  I don't suppose you have any idea what all this is about?"

She shook her head. "We broke up."

"What?" Dawson scowled heavily.  "Well, that's it, then.  We just wait until someone condescends to let us know what's going on."

"The Committee turned down Wayland petition, though?  I mean, whenever Security's done with Danner, we'll get him back, right?"

"Certainly.  It was touch and go in there for the first half hour -- Wayland really had some big guns lined up.  Fortunately, our gun was bigger."

"Who?  Dearing?"

"The History chair?"  Dawson laughed shortly.  "Of course he supported us, but I'm talking about the Old Man.  Alan Masterson actually sent a letter supporting our research!"

"Masterson sent a letter?"

"Yes.  You didn't know?"

Anna shook her head numbly.

"Well, he did.  But we're still in limbo.  Damn!  That stuff you got yesterday was superb!  Dearing's all but promised me his firstborn for an advance look at it."  Dawson loosened his tie and looked depressed.  "Damn."

"Are you going back to the lab?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah.  Someone has to warn Renwolf about what's coming down the pike.  I don't suppose you . . . ?"

"Why me?"
 

"Well . . . he is your project and you two do seem to get along well . . . "

"Actually, we had a little, er, dispute last night.  I thought I'd give him a break from my hounding.  And anyway, as head of the Unit, don't you think something like this should come from you?"

"I suppose," Dawson sighed.

Anna was lost in a blue funk all the way home.  She stood at the bus stop with her hands in her pockets, looking off into space.  On the bus, she stared gloomily through the window.  What the hell was Ron up to?  What could they want with Danner that was so important that they would go to the trouble of getting a writ to take him away?  For a sudden, awful moment, Anna thought: he's tried to escape!  But then she calmed down.  If that had been the case, the Unit would have been notified.

The bus stopped in front of her apartment building; she almost didn't notice. "Wait!" she cried as it started moving again.  Grabbing her things, she ran down the aisle, mumbling an apology to the annoyed driver.  Inside the building, she automatically checked her mailbox -- nothing, then tramped up the stairs.

Her apartment was on the third floor.  She groped around in her purse for her key and stuck it in the lock.  The door swung open slowly at her touch.

Someone was already inside.

Cautiously, she pushed the door wider.  Her little entrance hall was empty.  Brandishing her briefcase, she sidled in and peeked around the corner into her living room.

"Professor!"

"Oh, hullo."  The Old Man was sitting in her favorite chair, munching on the last of her ice cream.  "You've heard the news, I take it?"

She took a deep breath and counted to ten. "Yes."

"Good ice cream.  Where did it come from?"  He scraped determinedly around the walls of the box, extracting the last little drop.

"The dairy.  They're getting a writ to take Danner.  What's going on, Masterson?"

The only way he could possibly get more ice cream was to lick the carton.  Anna watched impatiently while he thought about it.

"Antuck was destroyed two days ago.  Overrun by the Scourge.  We just got the news this morning."

"Destroyed?  I didn't hear anything about it."

"Of course not.  The Powers That Be are trying to decide what to do about it before the rest of the cattle are informed."

"How did the Scourge know Antuck even existed?"

"They probably didn't.  Ironic, to say the least.  But what can you do?  Five thousand men are a lot to hide from.  You can distract, mislead or eliminate a man here, a handful of folks there, but an army that size?  We've all been damn lucky Callifer hasn't stumbled across more of us."

"OK.  We've got a problem.  But what does that have to do with Danner?"

"He's a Level 10. He'll be moved with the other "tens" to a high security facility."

"Which is where?  I've never heard of any such place."

Masterson looked troubled.   He did not answer right away; when he finally spoke, he sounded unhappy.

"There's a facility near the observatory that does not appear in any Consortium directory.  No one knows about it except the Regents and Security.  And me, of course.  It isn't used much anymore, thank God, but it was once very busy.  We used to call it Hell House."

"Oh, my God!"  Anna felt sick.

"You've heard of it?" he asked sharply.

"Oh, yes."  She pressed her hands into her knees, as a sudden memory assaulted her.  "Top security, all right.  You don't get much more secure than dead.  And that was the nice part of Hell House."

Masterson's eyes were opaque, their blankness unsettling.  When he spoke again, it was almost absently: "You had the plague."

She nodded.

Another long silence.  Then: "And I didn't think anything could surprise me anymore. Huh.  If you know about Hell House, you must  have been in the Founder base somewhere? Eveda?"

"Santa Cruz."

"How'd you pull it off?"

"Just kept taking more graduate courses.  I'd tell my mentor I had a postdoc at some remote University.  At the same time, I'd get admission into another equally remote school under another name.  Forged credentials, of course.  It was actually pretty easy.  But I'm running out of universities."

He laughed suddenly.

"The research you're following up - it's your own, isn't it?"

She smiled in spite of herself.

"Well, yes.  It does get kind of confusing trying to keep up with all my various personas."

"Why are you killing us, Anna?"

The question came out of the blue, but she had been expecting it. Her smile did not waver "Because I haven't found a way to stop myself!"

They stared at each other across the room.  Predator and prey. Except this prey was outwardly unimpressed with his danger.

"I'd like to resume this conversation in the near future, Dr. Taylor.  At the moment, I'm here for another reason entirely.  If Danner Renwolf has any hope at all, you're it. I'd help him out, but your pit bull has me under surveillance."

She said nothing.  After a moment, he continued. "The code for Danner's tether is in the security network."

"It's not in Igan's general net?"

"No.  It's exclusive to the security system."

"Right. And access to security computers is restricted - limited only to specific machines."

"Exactly." He looked pointedly at her.

"Oh no . . . "

"That's right.  Ron's almost certainly got one in his apartment."

"Ron and I broke up."

"Who broke up with whom?"

"I broke with him.  And even if I were to convince him that I wanted to get back together, I couldn't get near his computer without his knowing."

Again, the Old Man was very quiet.  The eyes that rested on her face were inscrutable. "Anna," he said finally.  "I know that your abilities are vastly underrated - as you have always intended that they be.  I can even guess at your reasons for them and, I suppose, can't really blame you.  But I think that the time is fast approaching when you're going to have to make some hard choices.  Those deaths deserve meaning."

Anna said nothing.  Her throat was tight.  The old panic was much too close.  He studied her for a moment.  His mouth thinned.

"Do what you will. If you decide to help him, both of you come to the Observatory." He handed her a piece of paper. There were two groups of numbers on it.  She looked at him blankly.

"The first set is Sheridan's log-on, the second is the access code to Renwolf's Security file."

"But . . . "

"The Observatory.  I'll be watching for you.  Good luck."

He left without backward glance, closing the door quietly after him.  Anna sat on the sofa, the scrap of paper clasped loosely between her fingers.  It felt as if the world was speeding away from her, a feeling she had not had in a long, long time.  All the old fears and insecurities were suddenly back.  She had no idea how long she sat, teeth chattering, mind reeling this way and that, a rat looking for a way out of the maze it made for itself.

* * *

"Palas?" The Doctor's voice echoed back.  The bed was empty. Her bags were gone.  Across the room, on the desk, he saw the empty whiskey bottle.  There was a piece of paper rolled and tucked into it.  The note said:
---
"Dear Doctor:  When you read this I will be gone.  Please do not follow me, but leave here and go directly back to the Witchorde camp.
 
" As you probably already know, Igan has the blackstone.  I have  gone to retrieve him and will meet you back at camp. I want you to know that I remember our agreement concerning Danner and will hold to it, but several things have happened that makes it necessary for me to leave at once."

"Be very careful on your way back to camp.  Recent field reports say Callifer is moving his army on Deet sooner than we thought.  For that reason, and for the one set forth on the other side of this paper, I cannot wait for you."

Palas
----

Not so drunk then as he had believed.   For a moment, the Timelord could not decide what made him angrier - that she would lie to him or that he had not expected that she would.

Daylight filtered through two small windows in the domed ceiling.  From the looks of it, he had been going through the seismology data longer than he realized.

The Doctor turned over the note.  It was a short, terse order to round up "Security Risks" and prominent in the short list of names appended was Danner's.

The Timelord hurried outside.   Hazy sunlight stabbed him in the eyeballs. His head felt ready to explode.

A hangover!  Two small drinks that he would normally metabolize with near-blackstone speed and he had a bloody hangover! Once this business was settled, it was back to Gallifrey for a complete check-up. His misadventure at the hands of Dr. Grace Holloway had been more damaging than he had feared.

Squinting, feeling his way along like an old man, he circled the Observatory and started for the garage where they had left the horses.

"Hold it right there!"

The Doctor froze and turned around, hearts sinking.  A man in black leather stepped out from behind a clump of yews.  He had a gun and a bad attitude.

"Well, well.  Got us a Scourge spy.  Looks like Sheridan was right about the Old Man."

"Excuse me," the Doctor said politely, "but I am not a Scourge spy."

"You can can tell that to Lieutenant Sheridan," was the short reply. "Now, turn around.  We're going inside to wait."

*  *  *
 
Anna knew what she had to do.  With the decision came a sense of relief, as if years of lies and subterfuge sloughed away leaving everything crystal clear.   She went to the phone, picked it up, and dialed.  Ron was not in his apartment, the phone rang and rang.  She hung up and dialed his office.

"Sheridan."

"Ron?"

"Anna? ANNA!"

"Ron, we need to talk."  She didn't have to fake the wobble in her voice.

"Listen, I'm really busy..."

"Oh, OK."

"What is it?  Why are you calling?"

"I've been thinking about, well, the other night . . . "

"You have?"

She could hear him perking up. "I -- I think I might have let my temper get the better of me.  Maybe we could get together later and talk."

"Yes!  Of course!  It's just that, right now...."

"You're really busy."  She bled as much disappointment into her voice as she could.  Again, not much effort was required.

"I am, but, hell, hon.  Things are heating up all over the place.  What say we meet for a cup of coffee?"

"I'd like that."

"Good.  Where are you?"

"Home."

"Shall I pick you up there?"

"No.  Pick me up at the lab.  I need to finish a couple of things."

"Angelos OK?"

"Fine."

"Great!" he said heartily.  "Pick you up in an hour!"

He rang off.  Anna sat for a time, receiver forgotten in her hand, staring into space.

The headache hit her without warning.  She gasped, dropping the phone.

No!  Not now!

Anna waited, sweating and sick.  The pain passed in minutes.  She stayed where she was, afraid to move, but it did not return.  Maybe it was just nerves.  Lord knew there was plenty of reason for that!

Dawson was gone when she reached the lab.  There was no sign of Danner.  The door to his room was closed; there was a hand-lettered sign hanging on the doorknob.  "DO NOT DISTURB."  She let it be, knowing Max had given him the bad news.  No point in getting his hopes up.

The infirmary was empty.  Lee had recovered from overload, and the next one to get it, Roy, had least a week to go.  That meant that Stu got some much-deserved time off and she could do what she had to without anyone knowing. Finding what she needed, she went into her office and began cleaning files.

Precisely an hour later, the worst of her jangled nerves had calmed and she was able to walk out of the building with every semblance of composure.  Ron was waiting at the curb in his new jeep, engine idling.  She marshaled her forces and pasted a happy, expectant smile on her face as he jumped out to greet her.

Her expression must have been convincing because he dared a kiss before he opened the car door for her.  Still, he peered closely into her face as she walked past him and slid into the seat.

"Are you all right?" he asked, getting behind the wheel.

"Tired," she replied.  "You seem very busy."

"Things are a little rushed right now."

Fine, he was going to keep her in the dark with all the others.

"I probably shouldn't have called.  It's just that, well, these last two days have been very difficult for me."

"Me, too," he said soberly.  "I almost called you a thousand times, but lost my nerve."

"I know.  I'm sorry.  My last words were pretty rough!"

"Whew!  You said it!"  He shook his head and shoved the jeep into gear, pulling out into the road.  "I didn't know what to think.  I mean, after all this time, to get dumped -- and for a blackstone!"

"That wasn't it.  Come on, Ron.  I'm not stupid!  It's just that --  oh, I don't know.  The pressure is really on to get this project finished.  That, plus this feeling I've been getting that our relationship was heading to a pivotal point.   It was all getting to be too much."

Ron nodded, turning up the street toward Angelos.   "You know I want to marry you." 

"I know.  I just wasn't - still am not, really - sure if I could handle being a Commissioner's wife."

"I'm not a Commissioner."

"You will be."  She turned a soulful, adoring look on him.

His shoulders went back a little. "I hope to be," he agreed.  "And you would make a marvelous hostess and homemaker."

Yeah, right.

"It's an awfully big responsibility," she vacillated, unable to let him get too complacent.  "And there is my work."  You sonofabitch.

"Well, you know, when the children come there won't really be time for that."

She almost broke character then; the disgust was nearly impossible to hold in. "Of course not.  I wouldn't want to be away from them.  I think it's so important that the mother be there for them as they're growing up."

He was looking happier by the second.  Anna could not believe he was buying any of this - it was diametrically opposed to just about everything she had always told him.  Yet there he was, lapping it up like a puppy.

"Let's not go to Angelos," she suggested.

"Where to?"

She smiled coyly. The jeep tires squealed as he did a three-sixty right in the middle of the road.

They stopped for a bottle of champagne, at her suggestion.  He lived in Security's Executive Compound, so his apartment was lavish, if small.  There was a beautiful fieldstone fireplace (Anna had once considered marrying him for that item alone).  She almost suggested that she open the champagne, but caught herself just in time.

"Darling, could you open this?"  she asked.  "I'm always afraid I'm going to break something when the top shoots off."

Why, shore, little lady.

"I'll go find some glasses."

In his kitchen, she leaned against the counter, her heart pounding.  How long had it been since she had made these kinds of decisions?  Ages.

Sheridan had the usual bachelor dish collection; a hodgepodge of glasses, plates and cups that had sort of "accidentally" wandered from other places into his cupboards.  The one exception was his set of wineglasses.  Cut crystal stemware and very nice.  She carried two glasses into the living room.  By this time, he had music on, something soothing and innocuous.

He popped the cork and they exclaimed as it foamed over.  He poured each of them a glass and they toasted in the traditional manner.  Anna glanced at the clock.  Almost time.

"More champagne, darling?" she asked, seeing the level in his glass drop.

"Sure, but first . . .."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black box.  Her heart sank, but she managed a look of happy anticipation.

"Here, darling.  This is for you."

She opened it and blinked at the diamond that sparkled up at her.

"Let me put it on."

Numb, she extended her hand.  The ring fit perfectly.  Why did it feel like a chain?  Arm around her, he handed over his glass.  She refilled it.  As he drank, she reached into herself and, for the first time in years, found the power.

The phone rang.

"Who the hell could that be?"

The phone was in his bedroom.  Anna waited until he was out of sight before she dipped into her pocket.  Unscrewing the top of the small injection vial, she emptied the contents into his wineglass.  The diamond caught the light, distracting her.  She had no idea what the dosage was. There had only been time to snatch the first sedative she could find, afraid someone might catch her raiding the drug cabinet.  This one had better be both powerful and undetectable by taste.  If either requirement was missing, the whole thing was blown.

"Damn . . . "  Shaking his head, Ron was back.  He slid back down in front of the fire beside her, resuming his former position.  She snuggled down next to him and handed him back his glass.  He took a giant swig; she held her breath.  He took another drink.

"Who was it?"

"Dunno.  Wrong number, I guess.  They hung up."

"Fools.  How dare they interrupt us?"  she sipped more of her champagne and cooed:  "Drink up darling, we have half a bottle left and I want to empty it before we go to bed."

"Bed?  It's only five o'clock."

"True.  What's your point?"

He laughed, tossed off the glass in one gulp and grabbed her. The drug took about twenty minutes to take effect.  One moment, he was kissing her, the next he was slumped against her, snoring heavily.  It was only then, belatedly, that she remembered barbiturates and alcohol were a Bad Combination.  What if he went into respiratory arrest?  For a moment, conscience almost made her call off the whole thing.  Then she thought about Danner, about Hell House and what Ron would do to her when he woke up.

Nahhh...

Leaving him slumped over on the cushions, she ran into his room and sat at his computer.  Turning it on, she waited as it booted the menu onto the screen.  She read through her choices; Security Access.  She put the cursor on that and entered.

LOGONID

She dug out Masterson's bit of paper and punched in Ron's access code.  The computer screen blanked - she held her breath - it came up with a much more detailed menu.  Security Network Systems, the title proclaimed.  Beneath were a series of choices.  Anna chose INMATE FILES.

The computer responded: ENTER INMATE IDENTIFICATION NUMBER. She typed in the second string of numbers on the paper.

29-446-38EH922X: RENWOLF, DANNER.

The file popped up on screen, nice as you please.  And there, right near the top, was the code string for the tether.  She took a deep breath, chose that field.

DEACTIVATE? it asked.

"Yes." She typed in, and hit enter.

***TETHER DEACTIVATED****

Anna was really nervous now, having no idea when someone might detect her tampering.  She logged off and picked up the phone.  Her hands were shaking and she misdialed the lab on the first  try.  She got the correct number on the second, but no one answered.  It rang and rang and rang . . .

* * *

Danner heard the phone ringing.  Lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, he waited to hear if Hank would get it.  A dozen rings later, he remembered that Hank had pulled his usual disappearing act.  Fine.  He closed his eyes.

But it kept ringing with that increasingly frantic tone that phones seemed to get when no one answers them.

"All right!" he shouted into the empty room.  "I'm coming!"

The other three blackstones were in Roy's room, playing gin rummy, a game Danner had never found particularly stimulating.  He ran down the deserted hallway to the reception area and picked up the receiver.

It was Anna.  He held the receiver a few inches from his ear, wincing at the volume and wondering at that note of hysteria in it.

"Hello!  Dammit!  Who's this?"

"Danner.  Anna?"

"Oh, thank GOD!"

"Why are you calling?  No one is here but . . . "

"Get the tether off.  Get it off now!"

"What?"

"Just do it!!"  The hysterical edge was getting more pronounced.

His own heartbeat began to accelerate.

"Please, Danner!  It's deactivated, but I don't know for how long!"

He dropped the receiver and dug into his pocket.  He now had a collection of picks jerry-rigged from pen parts, safety-pins and paper clips.  Forcing himself to remain calm, Danner inserted a  pin into the tiny lock on the wristband.  Sweat popped out on his forehead.  If she were mistaken - or lying . . .

It took him an excruciating, eternal twenty seconds.  Every muscle in his body braced for chaos as he heard the soft 'click'.  The leather band opened and fell to the ground.  Danner sagged against the reception desk, shaking in reaction.

"Danner!  Danner!  Are you there? Are you OK?"

He picked up the dangling phone.  It took two tries to get his voice to work. "Yeah -- yeah.  I'm fine.  How did you . . . ?"
 

"Listen and listen carefully," she interrupted.  "I don't have time to explain.  You'll have to trust me.  Please.  I'll be there in ten minutes to pick you up -.driving a Security jeep.  Meet me out in front."

"But how do I get out of the Unit?  I can't pick that lock.  It's electronic!"

"In my office, the middle drawer?  There's an extra card taped under it.  Hurry!"

She hung up.  He stood for several long moments, receiver buzzing unheeded in his hand, then gently set it back on its cradle.  Adrenalin was pumping through his veins as he raced back down the hall.  Getting into Anna's office by now required nothing more than a practiced twist of his wrist.  He ran around her desk and dropped to his knees.  Yanking out the desk drawer, he turned it over, spilling the contents onto the floor.  Sure enough, a small plastic card was taped to the wood.  For a moment he just stared  at it, scolding himself for having missed something so pathetically obvious.

"Hey!  What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Hank.  Standing in the doorway, the man could not yet see who was making all the racket.  Danner jammed the card into his pocket.

"Who's there?"

The blackstone was over the desk and across the tiny office.  Hank's mouth sagged; that was about all he had time for.  Danner, remembering poor Lee's misery, took great satisfaction in kicking the Norm's feet out from underneath him and, as the night nurse started to tumble, driving a fist up to meet Hank's descending chin.  The man was out before he hit the floor.

"What's going on?"

By this time, of course, the other blackstones had heard the commotion.  They stared, wide-eyed as Danner stepped over Hank's prone body.

"Get back in your rooms!"  he snarled at them.

"But . . . "

"Do it!"

They scuttled back down the hall.  Danner followed them at an easy lope.  He closed the hall door and jammed the lock.  That would keep them out of the way.

The card worked.  The door slid open without protest and he was in the foyer.  Not the elevators.  He had no intention of getting trapped inside one if there was an alarm system in this place.  He took the stairs, three at a time, coming down into the deserted lobby.  Through the tall windows, he saw the empty street.

Danner had a choice -- take off and get out on his own -- or wait for Anna.  He was not accustomed to trusting.  What little of that commodity he possessed had been hard-won by the Doctor - and where had it gotten him?  He had known Anna only a few days; she was essentially his jailor.  But what she had just done insured that any career in the Consortium was effectively finished.  Maybe she was setting him up for something -- but what?  Security was taking him in the morning, Dawson had hit him with that earlier.  Common sense told him to get out now; his intuition insisted that he hang on and let this play out.  He pushed out into a blast of sweltering air.

It was close to six o'clock.  The street was quiet.  He could see down a steep hill into the valley where houses and apartments were scattered among the thick trees.  Absently, he rubbed his bare wrist.  How the hell did she pull it off?

The sound of an engine made him duck into the heavy shrubbery edging the sidewalk.  A jeep rounded a corner, veered across the center line before regaining the lane.  A moment later, it pulled up to the curb.  He stayed in the bushes until he saw the driver's door open and a familiar blonde head pop up over the roof.  He stepped into the open and relief lit up her anxious face.

"Get in quick!"  she cried.

She jammed on the accelerator before he was all the way in.  Cursing, he managed to keep from being thrown out, slamming the door as she roared around a corner, running a stop sign.

"Would you like me to drive?" he asked through gritted teeth as yet another stop sign flashed by, ignored.

"No.  Just shut up.  I know where I'm going."

"Where are you going?"  Danner's heartbeat was finally slowing back to normal.

"Observatory.  I promised the Old Man."

"Observatory?  Is that still Consortium territory?"

She nodded, slowing for the next sign before speeding through it.

"Are you crazy?"  He contemplated wrestling the wheel away from  her, then decided it was likely to kill them both.  "We should be getting the hell away from here."

"The Observatory is at the outer edges of Consortium territory.  It's only minimally patrolled."

"Who is the Old Man?"

"He's a blackstone, like you -- and one of the Founders of the Consortium! He wants us at the Observatory."

"Why?"  This was far too complicated.  Danner started getting nervous again.

"I don't know.  I promised him, though.  He was the one who got your tether code for me; who told me they were taking you to Hell House..."

"Hell House?"

So she told him and he fell back in the seat.

"God."

"No kidding.  No one else in the Consortium even knows it exists."

They fell silent, Anna concentrating on the road, Danner trying to assimilate the abrupt change in his status.  She drove fast and they were soon clear of the town.  The hum of the engine filled the car, soothing, reassuring.   He gave her a covert glance.  Her jaw was set, eyes fixed firmly on the straight ribbon of road, hands gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity.  He waited for the hands to relax slightly before speaking up.

"Why did you change your mind?"

She started, almost as if she had forgotten he was in the car, then shook her head.

"I don't know.  Maybe it was what you said to me yesterday.  I couldn't let it happen."

"You won't be able to go back.  Ever."

"I know."   Her voice trembled.  He had an almost irresistible urge to slide over on the seat and put his arm around her, but one and a half centuries of being an outcast kept him on his side of the car.  He stared out the window.

"Anna!"

She swerved, fighting the wheel.  Danner braced himself as they spun in a slow, complete circle, the car sliding sideways as it turned.  There was a bone-rattling jolt and the jeep skidded inexorably into a deep, weed-choked ditch.

He looked up dazedly from the dash, through the cracked windshield.  A figure stepped out of the brush, leading two horses.  The queen of his nightmares slid down the ditch and splashed over to the jeep.  She shot a cursory glance at Anna.  The psychologist was slumped against the steering wheel, unmoving.

"Danner Renwolf," she said.  "Come with me."

"No!"  He could barely get the words through his frozen lips.  "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

A desperate kick knocked out the windshield.  He scrambled through, sliding off the hood into dirty, ankle-deep water.  She watched him struggle up the muddy side of the ditch.  He got as far as the trees.

The force came out of nowhere.  The blackstone saw nothing, heard nothing, but suddenly he could neither move nor breathe.  His heart pounded in his ears.  His lungs strained.  Then, just as quickly, the force was gone.  Blinking rapidly, Danner found himself on his hands and knees.  He sat back, jaw set, and stared straight through the long, slim legs that walked into his vision.

"I don't have time to talk you into this, Renwolf."  Her voice was calm, almost apologetic.  "For what it's worth, I promised a friend of mine that I wouldn't lay a hand on you unless it became-- unavoidable."

"What friend?"  he growled. He could pretend to be beaten, catch her unawares, make a break for it.

"The Doctor."

"The Doctor?  He's all right?" For a moment, Danner's world got brighter.

"Extremely so.  Now move.  Your lady friend is coming around and I would rather not get involved in a heated discussion."

Sullenly, Danner got to his feet.

"Can you ride?"  asked the red-haired woman, still calm.

"No."

"Too bad."

He was lifted onto the horse by invisible hands and released - nearly tipping over and off.  Automatically, he struggled to keep from falling.  From the corner of his eye, he saw three men ride out of the brush.

"Captain," said the foremost of the three, "another Scourge unit was seen coming in from the southwest.  We have to hurry or we'll be cut off."

"Coming," she said, reaching for the roan standing with the men behind her.

Danner yanked clumsily at the reins, forcing his horse's head around.  He kicked hard into its flanks and it leapt forward, toward the ditch.  He clung desperately to the leather.  How the hell did anyone stay on these things?

The horse whinnied in distress, stopping in its tracks.  Danner felt its muscles straining beneath him.  Then it stumbled forward again, as if an invisible barrier had been abruptly released.  The stop-and-go was too much for his nonexistent equestrian skills.  In slow motion, the blackstone slid over the horse's side and fell heavily to the ground.

He hurried to his feet, slipping in the mud, hearing the shouts of the men.  They  rode past him, circling him, cutting off his retreat.   One of them dismounted and walked over, gun aimed at his head.  Danner looked at it and sneered.  The man smiled in a friendly fashion - and hit him with the butt end.

"Sergeant!"   The redhead's voice was sharp.  "Don't!"

Dazed from the blow, Danner did not resist as he was shoved roughly back into the saddle.  His hands were tied together, the rope looped through a metal ring and tied around the pommel of  the other man's saddle.

"Stay on," suggested the sergeant.  "If you fall, you'll be dragged the rest of the way.  Get it?"

"Go to hell," said Danner, scared and hurting.
 
"I'll take that as a yes." Unperturbed, the man yanked on the rope and they started after the others.

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