Changed by Time ✔

twenty-one.

Wendy was pretty sure she was having a stroke. There was a good chance it was just a straight brain injury too. She couldn't care what it was; what she heard her mother say should've just been a hallucination.

"I'd ask if you're being serious, but there's no way you'd joke about something like that." Wendy couldn't help but laugh at herself. "I'm sorry, this is just a lot to take in."

"I know it is," Andrea replied. "I've had a lot of time to think about this and I know what I want to do."

"What do you plan on doing? Killing them? Torturing them?" Wendy's voice grew louder and more hysteric. "What's the plan, Mom?"

"I'll just get more creative with what I do to some of those lackeys. I know what I want to do to the head of the program – Dr. Paul Clover. I want to take him and make him watch as I destroy everything he worked towards and torture every person who helped him along the way," Andrea explained, much to Wendy's growing horror. "He doesn't have a wife – she died in childbirth. So I'll just take his kid and make him watch as I finish her off – leaving him alone."

"You're going to kill and destroy everything except the man who's truly responsible? Do you hear yourself?!"

"I'm going to leave Dr. Clover alone for a while, letting him wonder if he's safe or not. Then, when he's finally sure he's safe, I'll come and kill him – just like what he did to Mark and I."

Andrea clenched her fists tightly. Her knuckles began to turn white. She finally let out a heavy sigh after a long beat, unclenching her fists.

"That young woman who had the Glock pointed to your head," she began again, "was that Abigail Clover?"

Wendy slowly nodded. She knew that even if she denied it, Andrea would figure it out eventually and still go after her. There was no use lying – even if it bought them a little bit more time.

Abigail was no saint, but she didn't deserve to suffer as much as Andrea plans for her to. She wasn't even part of the Program until more recently – and even then she's simply just the person retrieving the SuperSource. She was just a child when everything in Andrea's life turned upside down.

"Excellent. That just makes all of this so much easier."

Andrea opened the bag and began to dig through it. She pulled out a gray jumpsuit and threw it to Wendy. Wendy sat up slightly and held up the clothing item, eying it up and down. It was dirty and older, the sleeves had stains that couldn't be fully washed out and clearly had been torn off and stitched back on.

"Change into that, we'll be leaving once it gets dark outside," Andrea stated, turning away to change herself. "It was my old suit from when I was part of the team... I find it almost ironic that you now wear it to assist me in getting the SuperSource in this grand finale."

Wendy didn't say anything, simply watching as her mother closed the door of the bedroom. She stared at the suit and then at her outfit. She turned to the nightstand, finding her sheath and knife from before and figured that it would be put to more use now than ever.

She thought over her own plan as she changed into the jumpsuit, slipping out of her old, bloodied clothes and into the new attire. As she pulled off the bandages from around her thigh, she realized that the pain was practically nonexistent. There wasn't even a scar.

The suit fit her near perfectly, with the exception of a little tightness around the hips. She sat on the bed and began pulling her boots back on, figuring that they'd still work for the situation. The bag nearly fell off the bed as she shifted, prompting her to snatch it before it could hit the ground.

One single object fell out of the bag – a red and black stick that rolled on the creaky, wooden floor. She kneeled down and grabbed it, holding it to the light as she read dust-covered words: DYNAMITE.

Wendy placed the stick back into the bag and grabbed her clothes, stuffing them in and around the dynamite. She zipped up the bag and threw it over her shoulder. As she strapped on the sheath around her thigh, Andrea came back into the room.

"Here." She threw two surprisingly heavy objects to her. "I always have a backup, so you can use that pair while we're down there in case we have some guests that decide to join us."

Andrea turned away, throwing on her coat in an almost majestic manner. It was swift, the tail of the coat flicking around as she threw it on.

Wendy looked down at the objects: a pair of plated fingerless gloves. She looked up from them back to Andrea with a slightly startled expression. She shouldn't have been surprised that Andrea had the gloves. 

She couldn't help but wonder what else her mother had been doing for the past seven years...

--

Nolan sat back in the chair with his bag on the ground. He dug through it, checking all to make sure that he wasn't missing anything else. Abigail walked past and dropped a book onto his lap – the book.

"I doubt we'll have use for this much longer," she said, continuing towards the window as she and one other operative kept watch.

Nolan flipped through the pages, finding that everything was kept surprisingly intact. He let out a short breath as he put it into his bag.

Despite everything, he could still feel a pair of eyes burning into the back of his head. He knew that every other person in that room would kill him at the drop of a hat. There was only one person who'd do it even before that and Nolan knew exactly who.

"Titan," Nolan nearly jumped at Abigail's voice, "go get one of the disposables and give them to Nolan."

"Yes ma'am." Titan walked over to the bag and pulled out a small green disposable camera. He walked over to Nolan, towering over the seated man.

Nolan wanted to laugh, a wave of nervousness and embarrassment washing over him as he stared up at the larger-than-life man. He knew there was nothing to be embarrassed about – he took Titan down fair and square. Wait, that wasn't right. Wendy took Titan down fair and square... with the assistance of superhuman abilities.

Titan dropped the camera onto Nolan's lap. He sneered at him before he walked back to where he was originally standing before Abigail gave him the command.

Nolan looked down at the camera, checking to see if there was still film in it. To his surprise, a practically new roll of film was already set within the camera. He figured that Abigail and her crew would've preferred that he didn't take pictures of them. It would pretty much illustrate how the sausage was made – in a much more gruesome, Irish way.

There were two possibilities of what would happen once they got to the SuperSource:

One, Abigail would keep her word. Nolan would be able to take part in the second round of the Clover Program and gain superhuman abilities. He'd better the world and prevent anyone from hurting as much as he did after his sister was brutally murdered.

Or two, Abigail would stab him in the back. Though it'd be more accurate if she just shot him. He already caused so many problems and disruptions throughout this entire mission, it'd only make sense for her to just kill him and get it all over with. They would most likely kill Wendy regardless.

He really hadn't even thought of Wendy after he made his final decision. It felt wrong that he was completing what he set out to do so many years ago with someone like Abigail, but would it really have been better with Wendy?

He knew that she left him behind, just for the enemy to take him. He just didn't understand why she'd leave him. She'd been the one who wanted to tag along, not one to just go off and do it herself.

Abigail's words rang in the back of his head: "Wendy is gone."

Nolan shook his head and shoved the camera into his pocket. Abigail walked past him and towards the door, practically swinging it open as she announced to the crew, "It's showtime people. At 2113 hours, Myer and an unknown partner exited around Luisa's Place and are on the street."

He stood up from the chair and threw his backpack over his shoulder. Abigail was right about one thing, it was showtime.