CELL

/ THIRTY /

Bradley's voice was unmistakable, and Ryan heard the person speaking into the radio, rather than the one on the other end, swear. He was sure the 'talk' button wasn't pressed.

"Affirmative!" the first two voices said in unison.

"Then, find him and bring him to me. I'll deal with you later."

"Affirmative."

The second affirmation was less assertive than its predecessor, sounding more like that of a sulking child, told off by an angry parent. Ryan didn't have time to digest the conversation, particularly the part referencing Oscar 15 and the potential for it to be him, as heavy footsteps approached them quicky.

The guard, indicated by the large gun and combat clothing, rounded the corner and should have ploughed straight into Ryan and Pedra. He didn't get the chance. Moving more swiftly and with more grace than he would have expected of her, Pedra rolled in front of the man legs, tripping him. He stumbled forward, swearing again, but didn't go down. As he regained his balance, he was spinning, bringing his gun upwards.

Pedra was already upon him, her leap almost a glide through the air. Her legs wrapped around his neck, forcing him backwards. Her hand went up and she brought it down, jamming a taser into his eye socket.

The resultant electrical storm within his head seemed to light his skull from within. He had begun to fall back from Pedra's weight, but the taser took any resistance out of his body. He slumped to the floor.

Pedra was standing astride his head, panting slightly. She stepped to the side.

"Help me," she said.

Together, they dragged the man into Bradley's office. It was their only option. They did their best to hide him behind the sofa, but any cursory glance in the room would reveal their poor attempt. Hopefully the doctor and her staff had other things to concern themselves with.

"Right," Pedra said impatiently. "Can we get a shift on?"

Ryan was trying to calm his too fast beating heart, so nodded silently. The woman had seemed to be little more than a downtrodden assistant to a demanding boss. There had been no indication of any further abilities. Her demeanour had, if anything, given the impression she was meek. Compliant. Bradley's leadership methods must be so demanding, they crushed her dynamism. And the role of subordinate probably didn't require the fighting skills of an action movie star.

Could he fight like that? Had he ever needed to in his other, previous life? He didn't think so. When Pedra had taken both him and the guard by surprise, with the latter being killed in the process, Ryan had not felt any urge to join in. There'd been no blast of adrenaline surging through his body. His instinct had not even been to run. It had been to cower. To be afraid. Very afraid.

"Well?"

He gasped at her voice. Shock, he thought. He was shocked by the speed and intensity with which things had escalated. If she hadn't been there waiting for him once he had passed through the warehouse door, he would have had to face the guard alone. His continued survival in that case was doubtful.

"Yeah." He muttered. "Let's go."

Pedra set off, turning away from the direction the guard had come. He followed.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

She was moving quickly and he was trying to keep up, but even the sound of their footsteps echoing flatly in the corridor was enough to spook him. Their shadows cast across the floor from the bright overhead lights were ghosts chasing him.

Ghosts?

C... Clara!

"What are you after?"

"What do you mean?"