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AN: Thank you, JalaDean, for the kind review- it was just the encouragement I needed to finish Tourniquet up.

Lyrics by Evanescence and Tina Turner

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“They always said that the living would envy the dead…

So now you're gonna shoot bullets of fire… Don't wanna fight but sometimes you've got to… You're some soul survivor… There's just one thing you've got to know- you've got ten more thousand miles to go …

Walk tall, cool, collected and savage... It’s every man for himself, every woman, every child... A new breed, ferocious and wild...

Because you're one of the living and if we can't stick together… One of the living- Who's gonna make it tonight?”


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Death stalked the streets, a silent apparition with knife in hand, searching for its next casualty. Meticulous in Its appearance, Death was a thing of beauty, an evil overlooked. None recognized the malevolent, until that which they admired overtook them.

Death was not one to randomly take whomever happened by. There was one, and only one, to be taken at a time. Never two or three. Only One. And only one track did Death’s mind have- programmed to target a certain individual.

From whence Its orders came, Death did not know. And Death did not care.

He sat in his chamber, chatting away, as his demise stared him sweetly in the eyes. He was quite arrogant in his belief that he was so attractive to such a pretty young thing, and he continued his prattle, blissful in his ignorance.

The Night welcomed them with open arms as Death walked him home. He wanted to stop for a nightcap, but Death did not drink. He insisted, Death refused. He became angry, Death became agitated. He got violent. Death overcame him.

The street corner was a far more public stage that normal, but there were no witnesses; there never were.

Seven down, seven yet to go…

Death watched the fight seep from him, smiled, and walked on.


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His children were both away as were their associates. There was no one to lurk in the shadows and enlighten his offspring to their father’s betrayal.

What they didn’t know would hurt one of them.

“Yes,” Mr. Parker stared at the space in front of him, unseeing and unbelieving. “Yes, I understand.”

Silence filled the luxurious office. Finally, he spoke again.

“No, he has not yet found her.”

The voice on the other end of the line snickered. “Is that what he told you?”

Mr. Parker gritted his teeth and forced a civil tone- he hated to be mocked. “No, he has not checked in yet.”

“Doesn’t that bother you, Mr. Parker?” the voice was distorted as though the person was speaking through a device that scrambled sound waves. “Mr. Lyle’s reputation does not boast of great integrity.”

“It was made clear to him what was expected of him… and the consequences of failing.”

“Perhaps you were not clear enough, Mr. Parker,” the voice was sharp and biting. “It appears that your son had taken a personal interest in the Project. Of this we do not approve.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mr. Parker snapped, trying to control his temper.

“Of course, you don’t,” the voice replied condescendingly. “It seems that you do not know much about your children or their activities- Centre-related or otherwise.”

“Oh,” he could no longer hide his contempt and agitation, “I suppose you do.”

“Yes, Mr. Parker,” the voice smiled, “we do. We know that Mr. Lyle is becoming too attached to the Seventh Member. We know that Miss Parker is in New York and not Japan. We know you are wearing a blue blazer and pinstripe shirt. We know everything that is going on.”

“I’ll take care of the situation,” he ground out. Their knowledge was disturbing, but he was most surprised by the news of his daughter’s deception; he expect as much from Lyle, but not Parker. He had her loyalty- she was his “Angel” after all.

“Yes, you will, Mr. Parker,” the voice continued. “We will see to it that you do.”

There was a pause.

“One more thing, Mr. Parker,” there was a sinister edge to voice, “We want to remind you that curiosity killed the cat… If you do not wish it to kill your children as well, we suggest you put an end to their inquisitiveness. Immediately.”

The phone clicked and the call was over.

Mr. Parker looked up and into the pale gaze of Mr. Raines. He clicked off the speaker on the phone.

“I’ve never trusted Miss Parker,” Raines finally said. “She has always asked too many questions.”

Mr. Parker glowered at him, but said nothing.

“And I tried to tell you about Lyle’s indiscretions… Once this is over, the Centre will have no further use for him. It is time we look into a replacement.”

“This isn’t over yet,” Mr. Parker hissed. He sat back in his chair, pressing the tips of his fingers together in pyramid. “My children are not going anywhere.”

He returned Raines’ frigid glare. “You forget that they are both Red Files… You cannot do anything against them without the Tower’s backing.”

Raines stood and straightened his jacket. A vicious smirk slithered over his features.

“Are you positive they are both Red Files?”

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The sound of running water filled the room. Water splashed over the edge of the stained sink.

She stared at her image in the spotted mirror, watching the droplets trickle over her features and purposely avoiding looking into her own eyes.

The noise of the water began to grate on her nerves and with a impulsive brutal motion, she slammed the valve the off.

Shaking slightly, she dried her face on the cuff of her jacket. A chilling breeze rustled her damp hair. She looked around for an open window, but found nothing but a small ventilation grill on the wall high above the sink.

She backed into the opposing wall and eyed the grill. By her calculations she could fit into the shaft. She had to climb onto the sink in order to reach it. It took some doing to open the grill and shimmy her way through the ducts.

The outside world came fast. She pulled herself out of the shaft and looked around. The empty streets were illuminated by the full moon. A feeling of foreboding clung to her and she felt ill at ease being alone on these streets. She turned back to the building, faced with two doors to choose from; she had no idea which one to go through.

She chose the door on the right and stepped into total darkness. The realization that she had chosen wrong was instant. But it was too late- a click echoed around her. She frantically jiggled the knob, but it was locked…from the outside with no escape from the inside.

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“What do you want, Jarod?”

The Pretender couldn’t conceal the grin in his voice.

“You sound distracted, Miss Parker,” he smirked. “I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

“You’re always interrupting something,” she growled. “What’s this about?”

“How’s Mr. Lyle doing these days?” he asked, blatantly ignoring her questions.

“I’ll make sure to ask him before I kill him,” she sneered. “Is there a point to this call or are you just wasting my time?”

“Aw, Miss Parker, you don’t sound happy to hear from me? Haven’t you missed me?”

She didn’t answer right away. Her irritation with him was rising to insurmountable levels. Yet she couldn’t quite bring herself to answer his questions- not honestly anyway.

“I’m hanging up,” she told him and pulled the phone away from her ear.

“I know where Lyle is,” he said quickly, realizing that he had taken the teasing a bit too far.

She eyed the phone warily before answering. “Tell me.”

“Well,” he sounded sheepish. “Actually, I don’t know exactly where he is, but he is in the City.”

Jarod cringed internally, catching his mistake but it was too late to recant. The scathing tone in which Parker answered him confirmed that his attempt to keep her on the line was as lame as he thought it was.

“Gee, do you think maybe that’s why I’m here, genius?”

“Okay,” he said, regaining his confidence. “I did call for a reason- I think we can help each other.”

“Yeah, right,” she snapped. “Listen, Jarod, I’ve had it with you. I don-“

“Would you hear me out,” he cut in forcefully. “I’ll help you find Lyle, if you help me find the Seventh Member.”

She was caught off guard by his offer- she wasn’t expecting the Centre’s new pet Project to be brought up.

“I’m listening.”

“Good. Has Sydney told you about Project Heptagon’s dying members?”

“What?” Parker turned around and glared at the older man sitting at the desk in sitting room of the suite. Her eyes narrowed. “No, he hasn’t.”

“There’s been a series of murders in the City over the last seven weeks,” Jarod said as he quickly brought her up to speed on his discoveries. He was careful to leave out any details of his current pretend.

“So the Centre’s not only breeding geniuses but also assassins?” she frowned. “How charming.”

There was pause that grew between the former friends.

Finally, Parker spoke, “Lyle’s supposed to bring this Amelia in. I would assume that if you find Lyle, you’d find her. Birds of a feather, you know.”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Jarod, don’t you hang up on…” But he was gone.

She hated to be the one left dangling on the line.

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Lyle waltzed out of Puccini’s office as though he had just finished a session rather than pilfering confidential files on the doctor’s patients. Several people in the hall glanced curiously at him when he passed by.

“Sir!” a voice rang out from behind him. “Sir…”

Lyle halted abruptly and turned around, obviously annoyed.

A slightly paunchy bespectacled young man jogged up to him. He stopped short of where Lyle stood and pulled himself up to his full height- an inch taller than the other man. Still huffing and puffing, he tried to feign the air of authority and intimidation.

Lyle arched an eyebrow at him.

“Sir, did you just come from Dr. Puccini’s office?”

He tilted his head a degree to the side. “Perhaps…”

“Sir, Dr. Puccini is not seeing anyone today…”

“What are you,” he derided, “his secretary?”

“I-“ the young man flushed profusely. He stumbled over his tongue, before finally taking a deep breath and starting over. “Sir, what where you doing in the doctor’s office?”

Lyle gave him a patronizing smile. “That’s none of your concern, son. Go back to your cubicle.”

The young man watched the man walked away, his ego mortally wounded, but then he saw something. Tucked under the strange man’s arm was one of Puccini’s files. He knew this because he was, indeed, the doctor’s secretary. Quickly, the young man rushed in front of the stranger, blocking his exit.

They were standing in front of a vacant information terminal. The young man glanced at something behind the desk.

“Sir, you do not have permission to remove any files from Dr. Puccini’s office.”

Lyle was immensely amused by this wretched little man’s attempt to bully him. He gave the man a sinister smirk.

“Permission?” he scoffed. “I don’t need permission.”

The gleam of gold caught Lyle’s eye and his gaze was drawn to the thick gold band that encircled the man’s middle right ringer. It wasn’t solid gold- Lyle was quite familiar with the real stuff- this was just gold-plated. Still…

An idea began to form…

“Nice ring,” he commented, not taking his eyes off of the jewelry.

The young man was temporarily thrown into to confusion. His hand unconsciously drifted to it and nervous twisted the ring.

“Sir, I don’t know who you are but I am calling the police.”

Lyle looked up sharply.

“How much do you want for it?”

“What?” the man gaped at him, befuddled by the fascination over a cheap ring with no significance. “It’s not for sale,” he coughed out. Dread filled him as he stared transfixed by the hypnotic gaze of the snake before him.

“Everything has a price.”

He was frozen in place by fear. Mustering every ounce of courage the young man reached over the counter and grabbed the phone, brushing the emergency button with his fist.

That was his first mistake.

A hand gripped his wrist with the strength of a bear. He turned slightly and stared up in fear at Lyle, who seemed enormous in his fury.

His second mistake was fighting for the ring.

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She edged her way through the darkness, feeling her way along the concrete walls of the tunnel system she was trapped in. Somewhere water trickled down into the depths. She glanced continuously over her shoulder, afraid of what might lurking in the shadows…waiting…

She stopped momentarily. Something heavy kept swinging into her hip. Her hands felt for the source and found it in the pocket of the suit coat. Her fingers wrapped around the cold solid object and pulled it out.

It was difficult to see anything in the dark, but she held it close to her face and, by running her fingertips over it, was able to tell that it was a handgun.

She inhaled sharply. Heavy in her hand, the gun appeared to her to be a snake, lethal and ready to kill. She swallowed hard, her hands trembling for she had never held a gun before.

A strange sensation charged through her veins like electricity through wire. She felt oddly disassociated from herself. Her hands, as though operating independently from the rest of her, turned the gun over, opened the chamber, and felt the number of rounds. There were six.

Her hands closed the chamber while the fingers of her right hand gripped the handle. Her index finger slipped over the trigger. The other hand unlocked the safety. The gun was returned to the pocket, primed and read to go. That was all well and good since her mind had no idea what to do with the weapon.

“There you are.”

She jumped and spun around.

Figure moved from within the shadows. It was a Black Coat. He stared at her.

Mia looked around frantically to see if there were any others. He appeared alone. She began to back down the corridor, never taking her gaze from the man.

“You are lost, correct?” He slowly advanced her.

Her back hit a wall. There was nowhere else to run. Her attention was caught by the evil glint of the dagger in his hand.

“Come,” his voice never wavered in pitch or tone. “Do not make this difficult.”

With a fluid and silent movement, the gun rose from the pocket and leveled itself at the Black Coat.

It did not, however, faze him and he continued to advance.

“You will not shoot.” His thin lips twitched as his mouth tried to form a smile but couldn’t quite make it.

The sight of the gun made her tremble or perhaps it was the knowledge that she was the one controlling it and at the same time something controlled her. Her finger tightened around the trigger.

The gun unexpectedly discharged.

She started, unsettled by the noise, but she could not pull away from him.

A rip appeared in the fabric over his shoulder where the bullet had penetrated, she could see now that her eyed were adjusted to the lightless world. He continued to move forward.

The gun fired again. The ammunition tore into his chest. He moved closer still.

What the-???

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and prayed for a swift death.

It has been said that just before a person dies, they see their life speed before them in flashes. The only thing Mia saw was the image of a finely dressed, handsome man with haunting eyes that were so much like her own.

The final shot resounded with a thunderous crash, and then was dead silence.

Mia opened one eye and found the man standing less than three feet away. She opened both eyes. There was a deep crimson flood pouring from the wound in his head- the last bullet had nailed him between the eyes.

She heard a strangled scream. It took several seconds for her to realize that the screech had come from her own burning throat.

The Black Coat stood motionless before her for an eternity. Then the creature wobbled and fell over- the threat eliminated.

She wasted no time in running for her life.

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The sound of approaching footsteps roared in the silence. Two Italian-leather clad feet appeared next to the body of the fallen Black Coat.

Lyle stared at the body with indifference. He had the heard the gunshots in the sublevel of the office building and follow the strange extensive passage way of tunnels to this spot.

It had surprised him to find that it was not the Black Coat that had fired the shots. He had been unaware that Mia knew how to use a gun.

He stood there a few moments longer, studying the area around him. From his jacket pocket he remove a penlight and flashed the light over points of interests: the three bloodied wounds, the size four sneaker prints leading away from the body.

He stepped over the slain creature and hurriedly followed the footprints.

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He was a detective again.

Jarod stepped through the doors of the DT-UT and surveyed the store full of customers lounging around. Courtesy of Parker, Jarod had the full name of the Seventh Member and a place to begin his search.

A brunette with a bright smile greeted him at the cash register ready with her “Welcome to the DT-UT” spiel.

“I’m Detective Wayne,” he said cordially, flashing his badge.

The girl giggled nervously. “You’re first name isn’t Bruce is it?”

She sobered quickly and blushed crimson. “I’m sorry, “ she said contritely. “I was just… I-…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Jarod smiled reassuringly. “I caught the Batman reference. Clever.”

She smiled sheepishly. “Can I help you with something?”

“Yes, actually, you can. Do you know where I can find Amelia Micelli?”

The girl frowned and shrugged. “Mia? No, I don’t.”

“She works here right?”

“She did. Until three days ago. No warning or nothing. She just took off.”

“What can you tell me about her?”

The girl thought for a moment before answering. “Mia and I were friends- she’s real sweet. We hit it off ‘cause she was so nice to me. As you can see,” she gestured to herself. “I’m not the prettiest girl in the world. She wasn’t mean to me like the others.”

Jarod nodded. “Don’t sell yourself short,” he replied, bring a smile to the girl’s face. “You know her well then?”

“Yeah, I guess. Mia was a little bit of a loner, didn’t let anyone get too close. I can understand that, you know with her father in prison and her mom in the nuthouse.”

Jarod arched an eyebrow. “What’s her father in for?”

The girl gave him a funny look and pulled away slightly. “You mean you’re not here about her dad?”

“No,” he said slowly, wondering what caused the change in the girl’s demeanor.

“He’s in prison for murder,” she stated flatly. Her eyed narrowed and tone became defensive. “Look, I don’t why you want Mia, but she’s a good person who’s never hurt anyone. Just ‘cause her dad’s a loser, doesn’t mean she is.”

“Of course,” he acknowledged. “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. Do you have an address for her? I just want to talk to her about a few things.”

The girl grudgingly scribbled something onto a napkin and shoved it at him.

“Won’t do you any good,” she called as he walked away. “I went over there yesterday to check on her and her apartment’s got new tenants.”

New tenants so quickly? Jarod wondered why she was trying to protect Mia.

“Really?” he paused at the door.

The girl came around the counter as not to shout across the café.

Jarod noticed the nervous way she glanced around before whispering conspiratorially, “I really don’t know why she left her job and place all of the sudden. It’s not like her to just up and leave- she’s too responsible for that. But maybe it’s that new guy she’s with.”

Jarod turned fully and gave her his rapt attention. He a sneaking suspicion as to who that man might be.

“What can you tell me about the man?”

“Nothing. Mia never introduced me to him so I have no idea what his name is, how they met, how long they’ve been together. I saw them a few nights ago at Bagel Bob’s after our shift ended. I tried to say to hi to her, but she was too caught up in this guy, and I couldn’t stay- I had a kid brother I had to get home to.”

Jarod glanced up and then pulled her to the side, away from the door.

“What’s your name, hon?” he asked.

“Kaylee,” she replied.

“Kaylee, can you tell me what this guy looked like?”

“Yeah. He was hot,” she smiled slightly. “But a lot older than Mia- thirties at least, maybe even late thirties. Really blue eyes.” she paused, covering her mouth with her hand. “His hair was either a real dark blond or a light brown. And he was tall. I think, I mean, everyone’s tall compared to Mia.” She shrugged. “That’s about it. Well, I mean the only other thing that stood out were his clothes. Real expensive stuff, you know. I thought it was weird he was in a little joint like Bagel Bobs, you know. People like that don’t visit there.”

Jarod nodded, certain that it was Lyle that Mia had been with.

“Are you sure that they were dating?”

Kaylee’s brows knit together in confusion. “Yeah, they had to be. It’s the only way Mia would let a guy near her… Ya know, she doesn’t trust hardly anybody, especially guys. She wouldn’t hang out with someone she had just met on the street.”

Parker was right about birds of a feather, he mused. They certainly do flock together, though Amelia hardly sounds like the sociopath type…

“Well, Kaylee,” he smiled kindly, “you’ve been a great deal of help. I appreciate it.”

He was about to turn away when a small hand stopped him. He turned back and found himself staring into the fearful watery brown eyes of Amelia’s concerned friend.

“If you find her, sir, tell her to call me.”

Jarod nodded and gave the hand on his arm a compassionate squeeze.

“I’ll find her. I promise.”

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You hold the answers, deep within your own mind… Consciously you've forgotten it- that's the way the human mind works…

There were no words to aptly describe the terror that Mia was experiencing. Without memories, she had not even inkling as to why these strange men were after her or what she might have done to provoke them. There nothing within her head but blank space with the image of man she knew only as Lyle. And that did not provide much comfort.

She ran and ran through the twisting labyrinth of tunnels with no idea where she was going or where she might end up. She simply ran out of fear of what might happen if she stopped.

Whenever something is too unpleasant, too shameful for us to entertain, we reject it; we erase it from our memories… But the answer is always there.

He had lost the footprints long ago, but something pushed him on. He jogged through the tunnel system with nothing but instinct to rely on. She was close, but he felt like there were a million miles between them.

Rage boiled within him, fury propelled him on. He was irate with himself, infuriated that he could not get her out of his mind. Intuitively, he knew that they were somehow connected; a connection that was not merely the Centre, though it may have been Centre-induced.

He cursed silently- he didn’t even know that meant.

The rage churned as it sought a way out becoming more violent the longer he allowed his thoughts to dwell on the Centre.

“The pain that grips you, the fear that binds you, releases life in me… In our mutual shame we idolize to blind them from the truth that finds a way from who we are…

She heard footsteps breaking through the silence. Her heart hammered so fast that she was certain it would explode. Perhaps it would be for the best if it did. At least then the nightmare would be over.

She was so tired. Tired from lack of sleep, tired from not eating, tired of running. She was so very weary of running.

Her foot caught on something she could not see and she went flying to the floor, landing on a rusty metal grate. A blinding pain shot up her right side. Silent tears slipped down her cheeks.

It was over.

A crash resounded in the darkness.

He stopped and looked around. He was surrounded not by concrete walls, but by metal structures that resembled an elaborate duct system. Above him was a grate.

“Mia?”

She froze and her heart nearly stopped at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Lyle?” she ventured timidly.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

He was answered by a muffled sob.

“Are you all right?” He couldn’t see anyway to reach her.

“No!”

When the darkness fades away the dawn will break the silence screaming in our hearts… I try to fight the truth… my final time.

“Mia,” he called again. “Can you see any way to open the grate?”

She tried to pull herself upright, fighting the pain that nearly paralyzed her.

“No,” she reported weakly. “Even if there was it’s probably rusted shut anyway.”

“Stay there. I’m going to try to find a way up to you.”

When she could no longer hear his voice, she panicked.

“Lyle!”

He came running back.

“What is it?”

“Don’t leave me.”

The agony in her voice was enough to move even the hardest of hearts. He moistened his lips and sighed.

“I’m not leaving you, I’m trying to get to you. Hang on.”

It seemed like a lifetime passed before she heard his voice again.

“Mia,” he sounded a long way off. “Come here.”

She stood, forcing herself to resist the waves of nausea that swept over her.

“Where are you?”

“Just follow my voice.”

The life that flows inside of you, burns inside of me... Tell me you will live through this…
For I know I cannot bear it all alone...

He was standing behind wide, flat panels of metal that reminded her of prison bars. She could not figure out what the formation was for.

“I can’t get through,” he said. “But I think you can.”

Mia looked at the structures. There were two sets she’d have to get through- the one she was behind and the one trapping him.

Her head and shoulders slipped through easily enough, but she got caught at the hips. The panels evidently narrowed as they got closer to the base.

“I can’t do it,” she wailed.

“Yes, you can,” he told her firmly. “Yes, you can.”

She pulled back to the side she began on, shaking her head and clutching her right side.

He growled in frustration then looked up and locked eyes with her.

For a moment neither moved, as they found themselves staring into gazes that were identical to their own. Neither was convinced that they weren’t looking into a mirror.

Click, clack, click… Footsteps echoed in the underground.

“Come on,” Lyle commanded, wedging himself through the panels as far as he could. He extended his right hand to her.

The footsteps grew closer and forced her into action.

She tried again to get through, latching onto his hand immediately. But she just couldn’t get through.

“Try to climb up a ways,” he told her. “High enough to get to the wider area.”

She tried to do as he suggested, but it was an impossible feat since she stubbornly refused to let go of his hand.

Can't fight it all away, can't hope it all away… Can't scream it all away…

“Let go,” he demanded.

“No,” she cried, wincing in pain. “Please no.”

“Mia.” His arm was going numb and he couldn’t hold onto her much longer. “Mia, listen to me. We have to get out of here.”

“No!” She gripped his hand tighter.

“Look at me.”

She obeyed.

“I’ll find you again… I swear I will,” he grimaced trying to find a more comfortable position.

“Don’t leave me!”

There was something wrong with him. His survival was at stake and yet he could not bring himself to abandon her. There was something very wrong, indeed.

“Mia, they’re almost here. Go now! Get above ground. I will find you.”

“No, Lyle,” she beseeched. “I can’t do this without you. You don’t understand…”

“Mia, I’m not going to tell you again. GO!”

And he let go of her.

But the answer is always there… Nothing is ever really forgotten."









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