Post by Admin on Dec 15, 2013 18:43:49 GMT
Paul looked from the page to the computer screen, jaw agape.
"No. It can't be that easy..."
Tanaka walked into the file room and snatched the file from his hand. "This is my case!"
Paul shrugged. "You closed it."
"What, you come in my house, dig through my garbage, too?"
Paul nodded. "You're out of hand cream again."
Tanaka looked to one of the monitors, playing the Caroline tape. "This the alleged victim? Guy said she had a face. Damn. No wonder you're foraging for hand cream. Had a million bucks, I could blow it on that."
"Did you track this payment from Crestejo?" Paul asked. "The Mayfair Fund?"
"Told you to stay out of my soup, Ballard--"
"Afraid you'll have to reopen the case? Act like a federal agent for five minutes?"
"This is my report. If there is some giant conspiracy that's sucking the brains out of nice, young people, this bit of trim that you're chasing is A: effectively dead, and B: a whore. A mindless whore, just your type. No disrespect. I'm sure she still has a heart of gold--"
Tanks yelped as Paul slammed him against the glass door. The people at desks outside stood in alarm. "What happened there, Ballard?" Tanaka grunted. "I strike a nerve?"
"Yeah. Felt like this!"
Paul ripped Tanaka's arm behind his back. Tanaka screamed bloody murder. Paul released him as an intern ran for a supervisor.
"You are not long for this world!"
"I think you'd better lie down." Paul advised.
"I mean it. Someone's going to put you down. And I pray to God I'm there to see it!"
*
Victor looked up from his cucumber as Sierra padded by. Echo noted that she didn't sit with herself and Victor, instead opting for a secluded table a few metres away. Echo didn't think too much of it, but Victor looked pensive.
"Sierra is alone." he noted.
Echo considered this. "I like to be alone sometimes." she pointed out.
Victor nodded. "It's peaceful." Echo was about to return to her food when Victor continued. "Sierra sits with us most days. Am I wrong?"
Echo looked at Sierra. "When we go to sleep, I hear her..."
Victor looked to Sierra longingly. "Maybe she didn't see us."
Victor stood and made his way to Sierra. Echo watched. He placed his hand on her shoulder and parted his lips--
Sierra took one look at him and let out a bloodcurdling scream, fell from her chair and crawled away, screaming, not stopping for air. She crawled into a fetal position and rocked, still screaming. The Dollhouse staff stopped and turned, ran for help.
Echo put her fork down. Victor looked around, wondering what was happening.
*
Doctor Saunders stood from her seat and gave a comforting look to Sierra, lying in a thin robe on the exam table. "Do you feel uncomfortable at all?" she asked.
Sierra shook her head. "No. Should I?"
"No. Did Victor upset you? Do you remember?"
"Victor wants to pretend." Sierra said simply.
Claire felt something in the pit of her stomach. "'Pretend'?"
"He pretends we're married."
Claire's' breath rattled. "I see..."
The door opened and Boyd walked in, accompanied by Joe Hearn, Sierra's handler. He nodded to her, and Sierra walked out. "Something's up?" Hearn asked.
Saunders removed her latex glove. "Yes. Sierra's had sex."
Hearn shook his head. "No."
"You know for sure?" Boyd asked.
"Her last engagement was with the governor's niece at a children's cancer ward."
"I examined her post-engagement anyway." Claire said. "This happened while she's been here."
"What did she say about Victor?" Boyd asked Claire.
"That he liked to play."
Hearn's forehead creased. "Wait, the Dolls don't have sex drives. That's part of the deal, right? What do you guys know?"
"Since when do you care what happens to her?" Boyd said gruffly.
"Since I was hired to! Just because I'm not Andy Griffith with these guys doesn't mean I want to see them abusing each other. If Victor's off-program, then he could be Jekyll and Hyde-ing just like Alpha did."
"We can't jump to any conclusions." Claire reasoned.
"No, but we can go to the videotape."
"How long has she--?"
"Two days. If Victor was alone with her, it won't take long to find."
"Mr. Hearn," Claire said. "When you figure out what happened--"
"Then I go to DeWitt. If Victor is playing doctor when not imprinted with an M.D., then he goes to the Attic."
Hearn left, slamming the door. Claire approached Boyd. "Victor wouldn't..."
"She did scream when she saw him." Boyd pointed out. "And we both know he's been focused on her."
"There's a difference between being attracted to someone and hurting them. "
"Has she shown any other sign? Anything you can remember?"
Claire heard a noise. Echo was standing in the doorway. She didn't know how much she had heard, but Echo just looked at the floor.
"When we go to sleep... when we go in the pods... Sierra cries."
*
"Am I right?" Paul asked Loomis. "I'm right, right? Am I right?"
Loomis sighed over her computer. "Tanaka's going to the director. You know he threw up after you pulled that Vulcan grip crap. And yes, I think you're right. This is the Crestejo account." she pointed at the screen with her pen. "Big payment to the Mayfair Fund, which means nothing. Mayfair is a hedge, and it's spread thin."
"But that payment went in right when his daughter was kidnapped." Paul said.
"And you still think he hired the Dollhouse to get her back."
Paul nodded. "I surely do."
"Now you have a similar sum transferred to the Mayfair Fund from Q-Field. And this is the fun part: you have the same amount, from Q-Field to Mayfair, every year on the exact same day."
Paul handed her a file. "Q-Field is a subsidiary of Redwing, a majority share of which is held by: Joel Mynor.
"And Joel Mynor is on your list of potential Dollhouse clients." she said. "Man, even I know about this guy. He's that Internet mogul. He created Sorceress, E-Tilites, Bouncy the Rat - my kids fiercely love Bouncy the Rat."
"Dotcom billionaire with serious commitment issues, who shows up at every charity gig with a fabulous nobody on his arm. I've liked this guy for a while."
"You ever thought about asking him out?" Loomis joked.
"I'm never going to get to Caroline. Whoever she is, the Dollhouse has buried her. I've got to get to them first, and Joel Mynor is my ticket. Whatever he's paying for, it's happening soon. I need everything on him."
"You mean everything admissible by a warrant that you got, because anybody in the whole wide Bureau believes you're not insane."
"I mean help me out."
Loomis smiled. "Getting shot didn't even make you pause, did it? I'll help you. The director sees what we're up to, he's going to help you OUT."
*
"So the one fund got transferred to the other fund, and that's the same as the other other fund, and that's all important?"
Paul smiled at Mellie. "That's it. Exactly."
"You have a very glamorous job."
Paul lifted his Chinese takeaway box. "How do you think I can afford to take you to all these fancy places?"
"Hey, this is the nicest offer I've had this month. Or last month…"
"Weren't you, um, seeing someone? Rick?"
"Dick." she corrected.
"Really? I thought it was Rick."
"Oh, his name is Rick…"
Paul winced. "Ooh…"
"He said he didn't see me as ‘a long-term investment.’ Said he wanted to, uh, ‘dump the stock before it went public.’ He talks like that. He works at a doughnut shop."
"...what a Rick."
Mellie laughed, and then shrugged. "Yeah. Hey, I get that I'm not the gold standard in L.A."
"Please, you're gorgeous!"
Mellie shifted uncomfortably. "But I do have access to important government information that I don't understand." she said brightly.
"It boils down to this: today was a slightly better day for the good guys than it was for the bad guys. Just one more tiny step to get me closer to bringing her in—"
"Them." Mellie said immediately.
"What?"
"Bringing ‘them’ in. You said ‘her’."
"Oh. Well... ‘her’ is being held captive by ‘them.’ Along with a lot of other people, if I'm right. So if I really catch my client in the act tomorrow with a Doll, I'm closer to freeing them all. Including, but not limited to, ‘her.’ Is that fair?"
Mellie shrugged and stared at the bottom of her takeaway box. "It's your job."
*
"We're all clear in there."
"Okay," Joel Mynor said. "I don't want to see anybody in the house or around the house, and that includes the boys."
"They get it. You'll be very much alone."
Joel nodded. "All right."
He watched as the head of security retreated around the side of the house. Joel stood on the lawn for a few more minutes, dodging the sprinkler, until Rebecca arrived.
She pulled up in a small blue car. She was wearing a floral dress, her shiny brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her beautiful face full of worry. "Joel?"
"Hi, honey."
"Are you okay? You sounded so serious on the phone…"
"I'm a serious guy."
She kissed him. "You're a dork. Louanne's covering for me, so this can't take forever."
"You may have to owe her one. I did something."
"Something bad?"
He chuckled. "No. Something very, very good…"
*
Paul lay the unconscious security guard down by the pool and slipped into the house. He crept along, gun in hand, and passed a downstairs bedroom: a king size bed, covered in rose petals.
"Oh, Joel…"
A voice. A woman's, from down the hall. A man's voice spoke as Paul approached the kitchen door.
"The oven, uh, gets food so hot, it actually goes through this thing called the ‘cooking process.’ It's very scientific. Um, and I think there's something in the fridge…"
Paul turned into the kitchen, raising his gun. The open fridge door blocked most of his view, but he could see Joel Mynor, a short, heavyset man with a small face and a tuft of brown hair. Joel's face dropped at the sight of Paul.
"I'd like you both to turn around very slowly." He ordered to Joel and the woman hidden from view. "What's the matter, Mr. Mynor? Did you two want to be—"
The fridge door closed. Looking at Paul, wide-eyed, was the elusive Caroline.
Paul lowered the gun. "alone…?" he finished.
*
"Okay," Joel said cautiously. "Whoever you are, I think you've made a mistake."
"What's happening?" Rebecca breathed, backing up towards Joel.
"Caroline?" the man said.
"Okay," Joel said. "You've definitely made a mistake…"
"What do you call her?" the man asked, voice rising.
"Please put the gun away." Rebecca begged. "My name is Rebecca Mynor, this is my husband Joel, we just bought this house!" She turned to Joel, something occurring to her. "We did, right? You didn't just break in to impress me?"
"No, it-it's paid for, this is all a big mix-up. Please, tell us your name!"
"I'm Paul Ballard. I'm with the FBI."
"I knew it…" Rebecca said faintly.
"What?" Joel asked.
"It's… PORN, isn't it? The Internet venture that suddenly pays off! You did porn! My husband does porn!"
"No," Joel said desperately. "I don't do porn!" He looked at the man, Paul. "You're in huge trouble!"
Paul had eyes only for Rebecca. "You're name is Caroline. You don't know this, but you're being fooled. You're being used…"
"Okay, I'm giving you one last chance to leave—"
"Joel, please don't make him angry!"
"I would never hurt you—"
Paul went still as a man in a suit appeared and jammed a taser in his gut. He shuddered before going rigid, collapsing on the ground.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Mynor." The man said. "He attacked one of our men…"
"Who is this?" Rebecca said hysterically. "You know this man? Is this a PORN man?!"
"No, there's no porn!"
"Don't yell at me!" Rebecca yelled as the suited man took the taser heads from Paul’s ribs.
"I'm not yelling at you, I just—"
"I don't like this house…" Rebecca said faintly.
"Sweetie—"
"I—"
Rebecca screamed as Paul hit the suited man with extreme force right before he chucked a new man with an earpiece and taser over the worktop. Joel made a run for it before Paul kicked him in the ribs, sending him down. Rebecca yelled his name as another man came in and attacked Paul. As they struggled and Rebecca nearly fainted, Boyd appeared from nowhere and grabbed her by the arm. "You need a treatment." he said frantically.
Boyd half-dragged her from the room as chaos raged, she didn’t know what was happening, where was Joel, who was Paul—
Rebecca skidded to a stop at an open doorway. A huge bed with rose petals. She gaped at Boyd, pointed indignantly.
“PORN!!!”
Boyd dragged her from the house, leaving the fight behind.
*
Joel lifted himself to his feet as Paul dispatched the last of the security guards. Paul heard him and whipped around. "Hope you're not thinking about leaving, Mr. Mynor."
"Can I assume none of my security guys need an ambulance. Or a hearse?"
"They'll be fine."
"Why don't you, uh, tell me what you're looking for?"
"I found what I was looking for." Paul said.
Joel sat at the kitchen table. "Really? Figured you'd be a lot happier right about now."
Paul wasn't happy. He had found what he was looking for, but Caroline would've been whisked away by now. "Tell me about the Dollhouse." he said simply.
Joel laughed "The Doll... Uh, it's pink and it opens up and there's teeny furniture, and you put the boy doll on top of the girl doll and we learn about urges--"
Paul violently overturned the table, slamming it into the wall and splintering two of its legs. He grabbed a chair and plonked himself down inches from Joel. "What's her name?"
Joel sighed. "Rebecca: she told you."
"Really? How do you know Rebecca?"
We've been married for seven years.
Paul chuckled. "So that's your fantasy? All the money in the world, the most elaborate, high-class underground organization ever designed, and you just want to play house? I guess the rich really are different."
Joel leaned in. "Why: what's your fantasy?"
"Oh, I'm okay right here in the real world, thanks--"
"No, no, you have a fantasy. We all do. We need it to survive, and I think your fantasy is about my Rebecca."
"Her name is Caroline."
Joel scoffed. "Right."
"A few years ago, she was a student, and then she had her identity ripped from her so she could play love slave to every loser with a wad of cash."
Joel smiled gleefully. "But then the brave little FBI agent whisked her away from the cash-wielding losers and restored her true identity, and... she fell in love with him!"
Paul shook his head. "It doesn't go like that."
"I saw how you were with her. It was... it was almost cute!"
"We're not here to talk about me."
"Hey, I don't have to be here at all. I mean, you're not going to arrest me. Pretty sure you're not going to kill me, so... if we're going to talk, we're both going to talk." Joel strode from the fridge and grabbed a bottle of champagne, accompanied by two glasses. "I mean, she... she changed things for you. So you're the head of this FBI task force to uncover the Dollhouse, and you're working hard, you're chasing leads, you're cracking skulls, but it's just work. And then you meet this girl or you... you see her somewhere, huh? Caroline? And suddenly...it gets personal." He popped the cork and poured champagne into the two glasses. He held one out to Paul, who shook his head. "Tell me you haven't thought about it. You know, her... her grateful tears, her welcoming embrace, her warm breath. Are you married?"
"Was.
"Oh, that's... Is there someone in your life right now?"
"This is getting old..."
Joel shook his head. "Of course not. No, there's no room for a real girl, is there, when you can feel Caroline beckoning" He chuckled. "You know, I have to say I-I think your fantasy is even sadder than mine."
"Won't know until I hear it."
"Well, it didn't involve drinking alone..."
*
"Victor," Claire asked. "Can you tell me about Sierra?"
"Sierra is beautiful." Victor said flatly, smiling as the machine scanned his retina.
Topher wasn't convinced. "There's a lot of beautiful girls here, bro, it's pretty much the idea. Beauty."
Victor shook his head. "Sierra is different."
Claire was perplexed. "How is she different?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Victor, do you remember being in the showers with Sierra? You were watching her? How does Sierra make you feel?"
Victor thought for a few moments.
"...Better."
Boyd watched from just outside the doorway. Standing next to him was a small, weasel-like man named Bicks, who had wiry hair and reeked of musk.
"I can't believe this." Bicks moaned. "I'm filling in for Ramirez for a week and my Active invents rape?"
"We don't know what happened yet." Boyd said calmly. "Victor might have just triggered a memory."
"Well, Hearn's out for blood."
"Hearn hasn't found anything on the tapes. Nobody has."
"How is that even possible?" Bicks said, pointing at the camera in the top corner. "Every square inch of this place is monitored. If two Actives are going at it... What do you think DeWitt'll do? You think she'll come down hard? It was probably just a mistake. These Dolls, they're smiling all day. Then Sierra's crying in bed? Why always then? Maybe she's broken."
Something occurred to Boyd. Always in bed. Never elsewhere.
"You figure she's broken?" Bicks asked.
Boyd turned to leave. "They're all broken."
*
"Rebecca was amazing." Joel said, staring into space. "She was a nurse and... I was a basket case, so you know, not a... not a bad match. I was the guy with the almost great idea - Floogle and Blahoo and Facebooger, I was just always one step behind, and... she was cool with it."
"And did she look exactly like Caroline?" Paul asked mockingly.
"No, but - eat it, F-Bitch-I - she was beautiful and she knew it and... she loved ME. I mean, I had been..." He sighed. "I had been given a gift."
"And now you're hiring zombies."
"You know Rebecca's dead." Joel said flatly. "Because you've done one iota of research in between beating up licensed security people. Right? And you know I don't live in this house."
Paul nodded. "Place is empty. Shame: big place."
Joel scoffed. "This place? This place would fit in my bathroom. I mean, this place could fit in my guest bathroom. All right? I mean, I finally got one step ahead."
Paul smiled. "'Bouncy the Rat.' Kids love it."
"Ooh, they do. I mean, long story - still kind of long - my first cheque had more zeros than the Luftwaffe."
"The Japanese." Paul corrected. "They had the zeros, not the Germans."
Joel sighed. "It was money. All right, it was roll-around-in money and Rebecca had no idea. She'd been supporting the both of us for years, I mean ridiculous hours. We were living in a one-room shack, and I knew this house was exactly her type. I paid cash and I called her up. I said, "Meet me at this address, it's really important," and she was worried, you know, I could hear it. Sh-She probably thought this was a police station or something, but... you know... thinking about the look on her face when she saw this place and I told her it was ours..." Joel's face slowly fell, hos eyes went to his feet. "Sanitation truck... sideswiped her car... three blocks from here, and I heard the impact and... they said it was quick. I guess that, you know, they always have to say that. Right? But she never got to see this house, and she never knew I made good. So every year on this date, I pretend she does. You know, I get to see that look on her face and I get to show her our extraordinary home."
"And then you sleep with her."
Joel smiled, shrugged. "It is a fantasy."
"I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Mynor. It doesn't make you anything other than a predator."
"Well, I'm sure I'm in need of some serious moral spankitude, but, uh, guess who's not qualified to be my rabbi."
"Well, I'm perfectly happy to let a federal judge--"
"Throw you in jail, hmm? I mean we got trespassing, we got assault, and what you've got is a girl you're obsessed with, who I think we can both agree is not here. I mean, this is not "beat up the geek," big guy. This is the Internet establishment. You put me in front of a judge, he'll take you down. He'll throw the Kindle at you."
Paul looked up as sirens wailed in the distance. Joel laughed.
"Oh... oh, I-I think one of my guys must have called 911. Um, do you want to stick around, see who gets cuffed or...?"
"This is all going to come apart." Paul said, rising from the chair. "You might not be punished and I might not be alive, but this house will fall."
"The first hurdle in my business is the people who will not accept the change that's already happened. Go. Go live in your real world. If you ever did."
Paul scowled, but left as the sirens neared. Joel raised his wine glass to the air.
"Happy anniversary..."
*
Boyd followed a stray Active down the corridor leading to the Pod Room. At the curve leading into the room was a blue sliding door, flanked by two vases on podiums. The Active admired it for a moment before heading for bed. Boyd looked at the ceiling. No cameras. He took out his phone and quickly dialled.
"This is Boyd Langton for Mr. Dominic... Yes, you need to take Victor off the floor. I'm sure. Isolate him... and his handler."
*
Echo found Victor sitting alone under the main stairway. She approached him slowly and sat beside him.
"I did something bad." he said guiltily.
"What did you do?" Echo asked.
"Nobody will tell me..."
One of the helpers approached, flanked by two guards.
"Victor, I need you to come with me, please." the helper said.
"Where?" Victor asked.
"I need you to come with me, please." she repeated in a higher pitch.
Victor stood. The guards lead the way. Victor looked at Echo. "Why did Sierra scream at me?"
She didn't get to answer before he was whisked away.
"Who authorized this? I didn't rape the Doll. Lawrence, Lawrence, I didn't so this!"
Echo looked up. The new man, Victor's friend Bicks, was being dragged away by Mr. Dominic and a few other men. "You know me, man. I wouldn't do this, man. Come one, you know, I didn't do this! I didn't do this!"
Echo saw Boyd and Mr. Hearn were watching too. She approached them cautiously as Bicks disappeared.
"Where are they taking Victor?" we asked.
"Why don't you go paint something?" Hearn said. "Nice work, man." he said to Boyd before departing.
"Where are they taking Victor?" Echo repeated to Boyd.
"Echo, I'm trying to protect Sierra."
"Sierra cries." Echo said.
Boyd shook his head. "Not anymore."
*
"Is this enough?" Mellie asked, holding up the ice.
Paul nodded. "Thanks."
He went to the kitchen and wrapped the ice in a cloth. Mellie looked at him over the counter. "Are you, uh, always gonna show up bleeding? 'Cause it's kind of funny how I'm not getting used to it..."
Paul held the ice to his shoulder and joined her in the living room. "It was her."
"You met Caroline?" Mellie said, eyes wide.
"I saw Caroline. I met Rebecca. And I let both of them get away."
"So, it's all true...?"
"I knew it was true. I just didn't expect... If it had been anybody else, the jail cells would be full, and I'd be busy writing the great American arrest report. I never thought it would be her."
"Did you get the guy? The... john, the... client. What are they called?"
"I talked to him."
"And?"
Paul looked at her anxious face. He dropped the ice, leaned in, and kissed her, wrapping her in a tight embrace. Mellie squirmed as the ice touched her back, but she held on, kissed him back--
And pulled away.
"And you kissed him?" she breathed, confused.
"I'm sorry--"
"I'm not, I mean, I am, I- I mean you are, don't do that, don't inflate the stock before you dump it, uh..." she gasped for air. "Uh... don't think about her and kiss me."
"I wasn't," Paul said. "I..."
"Forget it." Mellie said, waving her hand. "I think it's best we forget it. Would be stupid, anyway. We're neighbours, we should just..."
"We should be neighbourly." Paul suggested.
"Great! Yes! Neighbourly." she punched him playfully. "Can I borrow a cup of sugar?"
They both laughed nervously.
"Like that... so why don't you tell me about today."
Paul nodded. "The guy's name was Joel Mynor."
Mellie beamed. "Joel Mynor? From Bouncy the Rat? He was on the cover if Wired!"
"You read Wired?"
"You can see the cover in stores. Brownish hair, pudgy, kind of cute?"
Paul forrowed his brow. "I don't remember him as cute..."
*
Sierra walked down the corridor to the Pod room but stopped at the sliding blue door. The silhouette was there. She pulled the door inside and stood next to Mr. Hearn.
"Do you trust me?" he asked.
"With my life."
"Do you want to play the game?"
Sierra shook her head. "No."
"But... you remember to be very quite during the game, right?" Hearn said softly.
Sierra nodded. "'Noise is upsetting'." she quoted.
Hearn's hands went to her belt. "Lift up your dress."
As Sierra grabbed her hem, Mr. Langton appeared and right hooked Hearn in the face, causing him to stumble back against the glass door, which shattered under his weight. He collapsed on the carpet, crumpled on a bed of powdered glass.
"That wasn't quiet." Sierra observed.
Boyd looked at Hearn. "Wasn't meant to be."
*
"Why didn't you tell us you were setting up Hearn?" Adelle said, staring out the window, her back to Boyd.
"He had to be clear." Boyd explained. "He had to be flush with success, or he'd never have tried again."
"You will never take action like that on your own again inside these walls. Am I clear?"
Boyd nodded. "You're clear."
"...A bonus has been wired to your account."
"I don't need a bonus--"
"Well, I need to give it to you. That's all."
Boyd bowed out. "Ms. DeWitt."
Mr. Dominic opened the door for him. Adelle sighed and collapsed in her chair. "What do we do with Hearn?" he asked.
"I'll let you know." Adelle said flatly.
"And you saw the other thing, the tap?"
Adelle clicked a button on her keyboard. A clip from the hidden camera in Paul Ballard's apartment began playing. He was talking to his neighbour about Wired magazine.
"Ma'am, do you have an exit strategy?" Dominic asked. At Adelle's glare, he continued. "We have a handler abusing an Active, a federal agent interrupting an engagement, spilling his guts to the nearest civilian. I take much of that as my responsibility, but the higher-ups will target you if this all goes south."
"Your concern is touching, but my bags are not packed. You will bring the handler to me. And as far as the intrepid agent... tell Topher to prep Echo. I think they're ready for a second date."
*
Topher stared intently at the computer screen, playing with the imprints. "Oh-ho. You're bad. Mmm. You're a naughty girl." He hit the keyboard. "Oh. Okay. Uh... but you're not that girl. That girl has control issues that don't mesh well with the enhanced combat skill set."
Ivy appeared iver his shoulder. "You can re-cluster the inhibitors to offset the dissonance. Don't we want aggression?"
"And precision. I need a soupçon of rage. Hmm? Not a whole tasting menu. Mmm." Topher froze. "And now I'm hungry." he sighed. "Find out if the kitchen has the almond-crusted salmon."
Ivy sighed, but nodded. "I live to serve lunch."
She departed. Topher bit a few more keys before marvelling at his creation.
"Uh-huh. And hello, gorgeous but deadly!"
Topher hit the enter key and, a few seconds later, the imprint was saved onto the Wedge. He took it from the slot--
"Topher?"
Topher jumped. Boyd was in the doorway. Topher groaned. "I'm in my process! I'm..."
He moaned again, but followed Boyd outside of the office, shutting the door.
"What's the scuttlebutt?"
"Echo's been engaged."
"Well, that does happen..."
Boyd glared. "I'm not on it. I'm on hold."
Topher chuckled. "Yeah. You put another handler through a plate glass window, big guy. That's 48 hours chill time, min."
"What is she doing?"
"Echo? Oh... life coach gig. You know, remind some doctor why he helps kids who have, you know... gross kids..."
"They don't think I can handle that?"
Topher laughed awkwardly. "Uh, not everything is about you, Infinite Ego Man. You know, you did nail the guy who was messing with Sierra. You should go out and get drunk and beat your chest. Echo will be here when you get back. Hey. How did you figure out it was Hearn, anyway? Is it a cop thing? Reading people?"
Boyd shrugged and departed. "You do the work." he finished before descending the stairs. Topher looked after him.
"Well... Good work..."
*
"Can you imagine at all why it is you are not dead?" Adelle asked Hearn, beaten, bloody and tied to a chair in the centre of her office. Dominic stood shortly behind him.
"You probably got something worse planned." Hearn mumbled through his split lip. "You gonna erase my brain, turn me into one of your fantasy boys?"
Adelle raised an eyebrow and leaned against the window. "I find it a bit sad that you think of yourself as a candidate for anyone's fantasy."
Hearn smiled, despite it all. "Ah, you know you're a little sweet on me--"
Dominic swatted him hard across the temple with a resounding collision to the skull. Hearn screamed and went still, breathing heavily. "You think I'm gonna beg?!" he spat. "You want to kill me? You want to put me in the Attic? I can't stop you. The jig is up."
"How many times?" Adelle said. "I can find out, but I want to hear it from you."
Hearn panted, but eventually spoke. "Four."
"You're disgusting." Dominiv snarled.
"Don't give me that! You put her under dome fat, old emir, it makes it better because she thinks she's in love for all of a day? We're in the business of using people!"
"You understand less about this business than you think." Adelle countered.
"And you don't get how it actually works down there! You put a bunch of stone foxes with no willpower and no memory running around naked! Did you think this wouldn't ever happen?!"
Adelle considered him for a moment before retrieving a file from her cabinet.
"Did it make it better?" she asked. "That she didn't struggle?"
"No." Hearn panted. "It made it easier."
Dominic looked ready to strangle him. "Mr. Dominic," Adelle said. "Would you leave us?"
"Ms. DeWitt, I--"
"I'll be perfectly safe. Please."
Dominic gave a parting death glare to Hearn before walking out.
Adelle strode to Hearn and looked down at his pathetic, crumpled form. "We are in the business of using people. The question is, what is the best use for someone like you? This woman is a problem for us." She handed him an open file. Inside lay a picture of Paul Ballard's lovesick puppy, Mellie. "She's learned too much about the organization. It wasn't her fault, really. I need her killed and it can't be clean. This is your chance to avoid the Attic. You may even consider it something of a promotion. After all, this one will... probably struggle."
*
Mellie let her head fall against the pillow. "My God. You're so... neighborly."
Paul chuckled and kissed her again before rolling to the other side of the bed, clutching his stitches.
"So." he said. "Can I borrow a cup of sugar?"
Mellie laughed and pulled the sheet around her. "I don't think I got any sugar left." She fell silent for a moment. "I'm not gonna freak out on you."
Paul was clearly confused. "Uh... good?"
"When you tell me this is all a mistake, and we should forget it ever happened." she clarified. "I'm gonna be very cool. You're gonna be bothered by how cool I am."
"What if I don't say that?"
She shrugged. "I'll still be cool, but not as cool."
"What if you tell ME it was a mistake?"
Mellie smiled. "Oh, God, you're gonna be so clingy! Weeping and moping. Texting me? It's too embarrassing!"
"I am not a piece of meat, you know. I have a heart!"
Mellie laughed and curled up next to him. "Blah, blah!" They lay there silent for a few moments. "I was thinking about Caroline."
Paul looked at her. "Well, I wasn't!"
Mellie laughed again. "I believe you. And... I believe you should find her. I think what they're doing is wrong. And I don't love seeing you get beat up and shot, but... I think your work is important."
Paul stared at her for a moment. "Then help me out."
Mellie's eyes widened. "Is this the part where you dress me up and use me as bait? Because those movies never end well."
Paul sat up. "It's the part where I run down to Tiki Port and grab us dinner and we go over my files and you give me your perspective on some stuff. Might see something I didn't."
"You think I'd be helpful?"
Paul nodded. "Yeah."
Mellie smiled. "That's the sweetest thing you've done for me all day."
"Well... what about the, um... the other things?"
Mellie laughed and lay back down. "Fetch me spring rolls. Then we'll bust this case wide open!"
*
"And some beef chop suey, okay?"
The man nodded and stepped out from the Tiki Port desk. Paul stood in the cramped space draped in red and purple silk and lit by candles. Paul watched the man go. He pushed open the kitchen door and Paul got a reflection of the kitchen. All steam, pots and pans...
And a beautiful girl with shiny brown hair and wide brown eyes.
Paul blinked. The door had shut. He looked around cautiously before pushing the door open. The restaurant kitchen was barren, all the cooking meals abandoned. The man who had entered wasn't here, nor was anyone. Paul stepped hesitantly forward, lifting his jacket and reaching for his waistband--
Caroline grabbed the gun and twisted Paul's arm behind him. She held him from behind and jammed the gun into his temple.
"Whoever you are, I don't want to hurt you." he said calmly. "I swear, I don't want to hurt you."
"I know." she said.
She spun him around and sent him onto his back with a punch to the jaw. She grabbed a knife and towered over him.
"I'm counting on it."
*
Paul scrambled to his feet and peeled his jacket off. He flung it at Caroline - or whoever she was - and she flinched. Paul reached for a weapon, but Caroline swing a few punches. He blocked and swung her into the counter and dodged her swipe with the knife. Paul slammed her wrist on the counter and the knife fell, but she beat him away, ducked under him, and shoved him into the counter, hitting his sternum with a spin kick. Paul faltered, Caroline grabbed a pot and it struck, landing at his feet. Paul regained himself and chucked a flying pan towards her head but Caroline ducked and blade kicked him, sending him sprawling over the counter. Paul scrambled up as she grabbed a pasta pot, yanking open a freezer door to guard himself. It shattered on impact, glass rained down upon Paul, but he was out in seconds and finally got a kick to Caroline's gut. She folded and Paul tackled her, Caroline fell over Paul's shoulder, and they slammed against the back door, which flung open into an alleyway. Paul threw her down on the hood of a parked car and readied a punch, but Caroline smacked either side of his head, dazing him, and she sent him flying into the far wall. She jumped to her feet, they punched, blocked, countered, she ducked and hooked around his leg, flipping him. He fell to the ground with a crack, his legs slamming off the car hood. Caroline kicked him in the gut but Paul backed off and was on his feet again. They sparred, Paul got a few good hits in, but Caroline stuck her boot in his stitches and twisted, ripping a few open. Paul spun and shoved her onto the car hood. He jumped up to hit her, only to be kicked off. He slammed his palm into her face and pounced, raising his elbow, clenching his hand into a fist. Paul got a glimpse of her terrified face and his fist froze.
That was his mistake.
Caroline's face dropped the terrified act in a flash and knocked him back, kicking his legs out from under him. He hit the ground face first. She propelled herself to her feet and stabbed her heel into the small of his back, Paul heard the gun click...
"The Dollhouse is real. They know you're after them and they are going to have you taken off the case. That's why they sent me."
She removed her boot. Paul struggled to his legs, panting. "Why are you telling me this?"
She looked at him. Whoever this was, it wasn't the real Caroline. Just her body. "We have a person inside. This person corrupted the imprint while the programmer wasn't looking, added this parameter."
"Is this the person that sent me the tapes and pictures?"
Caroline shook her head. "No. This is their first communication. Security inside is very tight."
"Where is it?"
"You can't know that. You're going about this the wrong way."
"I have to take down the Dollhouse--!"
"There are over 20 Dollhouses, in cities around the world." she said. "They have ties to every major political power on the planet. You cannot possibly stop them alone."
"You're going to help me?"
"The person that sent this message is."
Paul's ragged breathing slowed. "Why?"
Caroline's eyes bore into him. "The Dollhouse deals in fantasy. That is their business, but that is not their purpose."
Paul's brow furrowed. "What is?"
"We need you to find out. We'll contact you again, if possible with this same body. But you have to let the Dollhouse win. Make them back off. You have to trust me."
Paul heard footsteps. A man ran up the alley, holding a gun, Paul caught a glimpse of a police badge--
Caroline stuck the gun in Paul's gun. She whirled around, screamed "He's got a gun!" and pressed Paul's finger into the trigger. A bullet shot from the barrel and hit the man, who fell into the shadows.
She turned frantically to Paul. "You have to go: NOW." Paul went for the cop, but Caroline stopped him. "He'll live. You'll be blamed. The engagement is complete; they'll never know I spoke to you."
"No--"
"You have to go. They don't want to kill you, but they will protect the information."
Paul turned. The man who had taken his order had poked his head out. "Call an ambulance!" Paul ordered. "Officer down!" The man scurried away. Caroline looked at him urgently. "Go!" she yelled.
"You can't just--"
"They will protect the information. They don't want you dead. But anyone else..."
Anyone else. Anyone else with the information...
"Mellie..."
Paul abandoned Caroline in the alley, no longer caring, and ran for his apartment.
*
Mellie placed the files on the desk and was going to go to the kitchen when she heard the lock in the door clicking. She smiled and went to the hall. Paul was here--
Th door burst open and a man clad in black threw Mellie to the ground. A second later, he slammed her against Paul's counter, Mellie gave a muffled scream, reached for any kind of weapon, but then the man tossed her like a ragdoll over the couch. She hit the rug and tried desperately to crawl away, screaming, tears flowing, but the man grabbed her by the ankles and dragged her across the floor towards him. She screamed, using the last of her air before the man wrapped his hands around her throat and began strangling her. She writhed and slammed against his arms. She peeled the mask off his face. A middle-aged man, face seriously beaten, spit flying. Mellie was faintly aware of the phone ringing as she ran out of air. Paul was calling, trying to save her...
The phone went to the answering machine. A woman spoke. A British woman. The man froze, his hands stopped strangling.
Mellie knew the voice. How was that possible?
""There are three flowers in a vase." Adelle DeWitt said simply. "The third flower... is green."
Mellie gasped. Her head stung, mind in tatters, things being torn away in a flash, everything, and then--
Mellie went away.
November looked at the man and slammed her palm into his face. He fell back and she got to her feet, grabbed him by the scrotum and slammed him against the wall. He tried to beat her off, but November countered easily and threw him to the ground. His chin hooked on the coffee table and November slammed her foot into his neck, which snapped with a sickening crack.
"There are three flowers in a vase." Adelle said. "The third flower... is yellow."
November felt memories being stuck into her skull like hot needles. She would've screamed, but then she went away...
Mellie looked around, dazed. What was happening, where was she...?
She looked at the floor. The man, the one who had attacked her seconds ago, had snapped his neck in the coffee table. Mellie took one look at him and went into hysterics, crawling away, curling into a ball against the wall, weeping...
Paul appeared a moment later, gun raised. He crouched beside her, made sure she was alright. He examined the body cautiously before returning to her side, embraced her as the sirens filled her ears...
*
"I understand," Dominic said into his phone. "Thank you. We'll talk soon." he hung up and turned to Adelle. "Agent Paul Ballard was suspended of duty pending an investigation into the shooting of Officer Hardin. Accusations of violent paranoia, the attack on Mr. Mynor's bodyguards, the feud with the Borodins, as evidenced by the break in at his apartment."
"Hearn's fingerprints?" Adelle asked.
"Came up Russian. A floater, not linked to anyone with power. It's all tied together, ma'am. With a pretty bow."
"And our sleeper Active performed perfectly." Adelle added.
Dominic nodded. "I replayed the tap."
"More than once? It did not lack for poetry. Bring her in so Topher can run a diagnostic."
"Are we pulling her?" he asked as they entered the elevator. "Now that Ballard's off the case?"
"No. A man like Ballard doesn't take himself out of the game just because of this. Besides... she loves him."
"You played a good hand, ma'am."
"I played a very bad hand very well. There is a distinction."
He nodded. "Of course."
The doors opened onto the upper deck of the Dollhouse, down the catwalk from Topher's office. They strolled towards the stairs. "I want you to contact your counterparts in all the other houses, tell them about what happened to Sierra."
"That won't look good for you." Dominic pointed out.
"It can't happen again." Adelle replied resolutely. "Anywhere."
Dominic leaned over the railing. Down below, Sierra was sitting on a couch, reading a book. "She's all right?"
Adelle looked to Sierra, slightly pitiful. "Topher did everything he knows to remove the experience. Ignorance, in this case, truly is bliss."
"I don't think they're as ignorant as they're supposed to be."
Adelle looked to the floor. "No. We're working on it."
Dominic departed, and Adelle made her way down the stairs to the Dollhouse floor. Victor approached Sierra, who smiled, and he sat. Adelle noted Boyd and Doctor Saunders watching from above as they read.
Adelle made her way to the art area. Echo was sitting, legs folding, wearing an apron over her tank top and trousers as she painted.
"Hello, Echo." Adelle said, sitting across from her. "You've drawn a picture. It's very good."
"It isn't finished." Echo said simply.
"The picture?"
Echo lifted the page. She had painted a nice, suburban house, with a lawn and sprinklers. Standing next to a small blue car was a short, heavyset man with a tuft of brown hair and a slender woman with a shiny brown ponytail wearing a floral dress.
"It isn't finished."
Adelle stared at her. "...You'd like it to be finished?"
Echo looked at the house.
*
Joel stood on the lawn, dodging the sprinkler, until Rebecca arrived.
She pulled up in a small blue car. She was wearing a floral dress, her shiny brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her beautiful face full of worry. “Joel?”
“Hi, honey.”
“Are you okay? You sounded so serious on the phone…”
“I'm a serious guy.”
She kissed him. “You're a dork. Louanne's covering for me, so this can't take forever.”
“You may have to owe her one. I did something.”
“Something bad?”
He chuckled. “No. Something very, very good…”
"No. It can't be that easy..."
Tanaka walked into the file room and snatched the file from his hand. "This is my case!"
Paul shrugged. "You closed it."
"What, you come in my house, dig through my garbage, too?"
Paul nodded. "You're out of hand cream again."
Tanaka looked to one of the monitors, playing the Caroline tape. "This the alleged victim? Guy said she had a face. Damn. No wonder you're foraging for hand cream. Had a million bucks, I could blow it on that."
"Did you track this payment from Crestejo?" Paul asked. "The Mayfair Fund?"
"Told you to stay out of my soup, Ballard--"
"Afraid you'll have to reopen the case? Act like a federal agent for five minutes?"
"This is my report. If there is some giant conspiracy that's sucking the brains out of nice, young people, this bit of trim that you're chasing is A: effectively dead, and B: a whore. A mindless whore, just your type. No disrespect. I'm sure she still has a heart of gold--"
Tanks yelped as Paul slammed him against the glass door. The people at desks outside stood in alarm. "What happened there, Ballard?" Tanaka grunted. "I strike a nerve?"
"Yeah. Felt like this!"
Paul ripped Tanaka's arm behind his back. Tanaka screamed bloody murder. Paul released him as an intern ran for a supervisor.
"You are not long for this world!"
"I think you'd better lie down." Paul advised.
"I mean it. Someone's going to put you down. And I pray to God I'm there to see it!"
*
Victor looked up from his cucumber as Sierra padded by. Echo noted that she didn't sit with herself and Victor, instead opting for a secluded table a few metres away. Echo didn't think too much of it, but Victor looked pensive.
"Sierra is alone." he noted.
Echo considered this. "I like to be alone sometimes." she pointed out.
Victor nodded. "It's peaceful." Echo was about to return to her food when Victor continued. "Sierra sits with us most days. Am I wrong?"
Echo looked at Sierra. "When we go to sleep, I hear her..."
Victor looked to Sierra longingly. "Maybe she didn't see us."
Victor stood and made his way to Sierra. Echo watched. He placed his hand on her shoulder and parted his lips--
Sierra took one look at him and let out a bloodcurdling scream, fell from her chair and crawled away, screaming, not stopping for air. She crawled into a fetal position and rocked, still screaming. The Dollhouse staff stopped and turned, ran for help.
Echo put her fork down. Victor looked around, wondering what was happening.
*
Doctor Saunders stood from her seat and gave a comforting look to Sierra, lying in a thin robe on the exam table. "Do you feel uncomfortable at all?" she asked.
Sierra shook her head. "No. Should I?"
"No. Did Victor upset you? Do you remember?"
"Victor wants to pretend." Sierra said simply.
Claire felt something in the pit of her stomach. "'Pretend'?"
"He pretends we're married."
Claire's' breath rattled. "I see..."
The door opened and Boyd walked in, accompanied by Joe Hearn, Sierra's handler. He nodded to her, and Sierra walked out. "Something's up?" Hearn asked.
Saunders removed her latex glove. "Yes. Sierra's had sex."
Hearn shook his head. "No."
"You know for sure?" Boyd asked.
"Her last engagement was with the governor's niece at a children's cancer ward."
"I examined her post-engagement anyway." Claire said. "This happened while she's been here."
"What did she say about Victor?" Boyd asked Claire.
"That he liked to play."
Hearn's forehead creased. "Wait, the Dolls don't have sex drives. That's part of the deal, right? What do you guys know?"
"Since when do you care what happens to her?" Boyd said gruffly.
"Since I was hired to! Just because I'm not Andy Griffith with these guys doesn't mean I want to see them abusing each other. If Victor's off-program, then he could be Jekyll and Hyde-ing just like Alpha did."
"We can't jump to any conclusions." Claire reasoned.
"No, but we can go to the videotape."
"How long has she--?"
"Two days. If Victor was alone with her, it won't take long to find."
"Mr. Hearn," Claire said. "When you figure out what happened--"
"Then I go to DeWitt. If Victor is playing doctor when not imprinted with an M.D., then he goes to the Attic."
Hearn left, slamming the door. Claire approached Boyd. "Victor wouldn't..."
"She did scream when she saw him." Boyd pointed out. "And we both know he's been focused on her."
"There's a difference between being attracted to someone and hurting them. "
"Has she shown any other sign? Anything you can remember?"
Claire heard a noise. Echo was standing in the doorway. She didn't know how much she had heard, but Echo just looked at the floor.
"When we go to sleep... when we go in the pods... Sierra cries."
*
"Am I right?" Paul asked Loomis. "I'm right, right? Am I right?"
Loomis sighed over her computer. "Tanaka's going to the director. You know he threw up after you pulled that Vulcan grip crap. And yes, I think you're right. This is the Crestejo account." she pointed at the screen with her pen. "Big payment to the Mayfair Fund, which means nothing. Mayfair is a hedge, and it's spread thin."
"But that payment went in right when his daughter was kidnapped." Paul said.
"And you still think he hired the Dollhouse to get her back."
Paul nodded. "I surely do."
"Now you have a similar sum transferred to the Mayfair Fund from Q-Field. And this is the fun part: you have the same amount, from Q-Field to Mayfair, every year on the exact same day."
Paul handed her a file. "Q-Field is a subsidiary of Redwing, a majority share of which is held by: Joel Mynor.
"And Joel Mynor is on your list of potential Dollhouse clients." she said. "Man, even I know about this guy. He's that Internet mogul. He created Sorceress, E-Tilites, Bouncy the Rat - my kids fiercely love Bouncy the Rat."
"Dotcom billionaire with serious commitment issues, who shows up at every charity gig with a fabulous nobody on his arm. I've liked this guy for a while."
"You ever thought about asking him out?" Loomis joked.
"I'm never going to get to Caroline. Whoever she is, the Dollhouse has buried her. I've got to get to them first, and Joel Mynor is my ticket. Whatever he's paying for, it's happening soon. I need everything on him."
"You mean everything admissible by a warrant that you got, because anybody in the whole wide Bureau believes you're not insane."
"I mean help me out."
Loomis smiled. "Getting shot didn't even make you pause, did it? I'll help you. The director sees what we're up to, he's going to help you OUT."
*
"So the one fund got transferred to the other fund, and that's the same as the other other fund, and that's all important?"
Paul smiled at Mellie. "That's it. Exactly."
"You have a very glamorous job."
Paul lifted his Chinese takeaway box. "How do you think I can afford to take you to all these fancy places?"
"Hey, this is the nicest offer I've had this month. Or last month…"
"Weren't you, um, seeing someone? Rick?"
"Dick." she corrected.
"Really? I thought it was Rick."
"Oh, his name is Rick…"
Paul winced. "Ooh…"
"He said he didn't see me as ‘a long-term investment.’ Said he wanted to, uh, ‘dump the stock before it went public.’ He talks like that. He works at a doughnut shop."
"...what a Rick."
Mellie laughed, and then shrugged. "Yeah. Hey, I get that I'm not the gold standard in L.A."
"Please, you're gorgeous!"
Mellie shifted uncomfortably. "But I do have access to important government information that I don't understand." she said brightly.
"It boils down to this: today was a slightly better day for the good guys than it was for the bad guys. Just one more tiny step to get me closer to bringing her in—"
"Them." Mellie said immediately.
"What?"
"Bringing ‘them’ in. You said ‘her’."
"Oh. Well... ‘her’ is being held captive by ‘them.’ Along with a lot of other people, if I'm right. So if I really catch my client in the act tomorrow with a Doll, I'm closer to freeing them all. Including, but not limited to, ‘her.’ Is that fair?"
Mellie shrugged and stared at the bottom of her takeaway box. "It's your job."
*
"We're all clear in there."
"Okay," Joel Mynor said. "I don't want to see anybody in the house or around the house, and that includes the boys."
"They get it. You'll be very much alone."
Joel nodded. "All right."
He watched as the head of security retreated around the side of the house. Joel stood on the lawn for a few more minutes, dodging the sprinkler, until Rebecca arrived.
She pulled up in a small blue car. She was wearing a floral dress, her shiny brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her beautiful face full of worry. "Joel?"
"Hi, honey."
"Are you okay? You sounded so serious on the phone…"
"I'm a serious guy."
She kissed him. "You're a dork. Louanne's covering for me, so this can't take forever."
"You may have to owe her one. I did something."
"Something bad?"
He chuckled. "No. Something very, very good…"
*
Paul lay the unconscious security guard down by the pool and slipped into the house. He crept along, gun in hand, and passed a downstairs bedroom: a king size bed, covered in rose petals.
"Oh, Joel…"
A voice. A woman's, from down the hall. A man's voice spoke as Paul approached the kitchen door.
"The oven, uh, gets food so hot, it actually goes through this thing called the ‘cooking process.’ It's very scientific. Um, and I think there's something in the fridge…"
Paul turned into the kitchen, raising his gun. The open fridge door blocked most of his view, but he could see Joel Mynor, a short, heavyset man with a small face and a tuft of brown hair. Joel's face dropped at the sight of Paul.
"I'd like you both to turn around very slowly." He ordered to Joel and the woman hidden from view. "What's the matter, Mr. Mynor? Did you two want to be—"
The fridge door closed. Looking at Paul, wide-eyed, was the elusive Caroline.
Paul lowered the gun. "alone…?" he finished.
*
"Okay," Joel said cautiously. "Whoever you are, I think you've made a mistake."
"What's happening?" Rebecca breathed, backing up towards Joel.
"Caroline?" the man said.
"Okay," Joel said. "You've definitely made a mistake…"
"What do you call her?" the man asked, voice rising.
"Please put the gun away." Rebecca begged. "My name is Rebecca Mynor, this is my husband Joel, we just bought this house!" She turned to Joel, something occurring to her. "We did, right? You didn't just break in to impress me?"
"No, it-it's paid for, this is all a big mix-up. Please, tell us your name!"
"I'm Paul Ballard. I'm with the FBI."
"I knew it…" Rebecca said faintly.
"What?" Joel asked.
"It's… PORN, isn't it? The Internet venture that suddenly pays off! You did porn! My husband does porn!"
"No," Joel said desperately. "I don't do porn!" He looked at the man, Paul. "You're in huge trouble!"
Paul had eyes only for Rebecca. "You're name is Caroline. You don't know this, but you're being fooled. You're being used…"
"Okay, I'm giving you one last chance to leave—"
"Joel, please don't make him angry!"
"I would never hurt you—"
Paul went still as a man in a suit appeared and jammed a taser in his gut. He shuddered before going rigid, collapsing on the ground.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Mynor." The man said. "He attacked one of our men…"
"Who is this?" Rebecca said hysterically. "You know this man? Is this a PORN man?!"
"No, there's no porn!"
"Don't yell at me!" Rebecca yelled as the suited man took the taser heads from Paul’s ribs.
"I'm not yelling at you, I just—"
"I don't like this house…" Rebecca said faintly.
"Sweetie—"
"I—"
Rebecca screamed as Paul hit the suited man with extreme force right before he chucked a new man with an earpiece and taser over the worktop. Joel made a run for it before Paul kicked him in the ribs, sending him down. Rebecca yelled his name as another man came in and attacked Paul. As they struggled and Rebecca nearly fainted, Boyd appeared from nowhere and grabbed her by the arm. "You need a treatment." he said frantically.
Boyd half-dragged her from the room as chaos raged, she didn’t know what was happening, where was Joel, who was Paul—
Rebecca skidded to a stop at an open doorway. A huge bed with rose petals. She gaped at Boyd, pointed indignantly.
“PORN!!!”
Boyd dragged her from the house, leaving the fight behind.
*
Joel lifted himself to his feet as Paul dispatched the last of the security guards. Paul heard him and whipped around. "Hope you're not thinking about leaving, Mr. Mynor."
"Can I assume none of my security guys need an ambulance. Or a hearse?"
"They'll be fine."
"Why don't you, uh, tell me what you're looking for?"
"I found what I was looking for." Paul said.
Joel sat at the kitchen table. "Really? Figured you'd be a lot happier right about now."
Paul wasn't happy. He had found what he was looking for, but Caroline would've been whisked away by now. "Tell me about the Dollhouse." he said simply.
Joel laughed "The Doll... Uh, it's pink and it opens up and there's teeny furniture, and you put the boy doll on top of the girl doll and we learn about urges--"
Paul violently overturned the table, slamming it into the wall and splintering two of its legs. He grabbed a chair and plonked himself down inches from Joel. "What's her name?"
Joel sighed. "Rebecca: she told you."
"Really? How do you know Rebecca?"
We've been married for seven years.
Paul chuckled. "So that's your fantasy? All the money in the world, the most elaborate, high-class underground organization ever designed, and you just want to play house? I guess the rich really are different."
Joel leaned in. "Why: what's your fantasy?"
"Oh, I'm okay right here in the real world, thanks--"
"No, no, you have a fantasy. We all do. We need it to survive, and I think your fantasy is about my Rebecca."
"Her name is Caroline."
Joel scoffed. "Right."
"A few years ago, she was a student, and then she had her identity ripped from her so she could play love slave to every loser with a wad of cash."
Joel smiled gleefully. "But then the brave little FBI agent whisked her away from the cash-wielding losers and restored her true identity, and... she fell in love with him!"
Paul shook his head. "It doesn't go like that."
"I saw how you were with her. It was... it was almost cute!"
"We're not here to talk about me."
"Hey, I don't have to be here at all. I mean, you're not going to arrest me. Pretty sure you're not going to kill me, so... if we're going to talk, we're both going to talk." Joel strode from the fridge and grabbed a bottle of champagne, accompanied by two glasses. "I mean, she... she changed things for you. So you're the head of this FBI task force to uncover the Dollhouse, and you're working hard, you're chasing leads, you're cracking skulls, but it's just work. And then you meet this girl or you... you see her somewhere, huh? Caroline? And suddenly...it gets personal." He popped the cork and poured champagne into the two glasses. He held one out to Paul, who shook his head. "Tell me you haven't thought about it. You know, her... her grateful tears, her welcoming embrace, her warm breath. Are you married?"
"Was.
"Oh, that's... Is there someone in your life right now?"
"This is getting old..."
Joel shook his head. "Of course not. No, there's no room for a real girl, is there, when you can feel Caroline beckoning" He chuckled. "You know, I have to say I-I think your fantasy is even sadder than mine."
"Won't know until I hear it."
"Well, it didn't involve drinking alone..."
*
"Victor," Claire asked. "Can you tell me about Sierra?"
"Sierra is beautiful." Victor said flatly, smiling as the machine scanned his retina.
Topher wasn't convinced. "There's a lot of beautiful girls here, bro, it's pretty much the idea. Beauty."
Victor shook his head. "Sierra is different."
Claire was perplexed. "How is she different?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Victor, do you remember being in the showers with Sierra? You were watching her? How does Sierra make you feel?"
Victor thought for a few moments.
"...Better."
Boyd watched from just outside the doorway. Standing next to him was a small, weasel-like man named Bicks, who had wiry hair and reeked of musk.
"I can't believe this." Bicks moaned. "I'm filling in for Ramirez for a week and my Active invents rape?"
"We don't know what happened yet." Boyd said calmly. "Victor might have just triggered a memory."
"Well, Hearn's out for blood."
"Hearn hasn't found anything on the tapes. Nobody has."
"How is that even possible?" Bicks said, pointing at the camera in the top corner. "Every square inch of this place is monitored. If two Actives are going at it... What do you think DeWitt'll do? You think she'll come down hard? It was probably just a mistake. These Dolls, they're smiling all day. Then Sierra's crying in bed? Why always then? Maybe she's broken."
Something occurred to Boyd. Always in bed. Never elsewhere.
"You figure she's broken?" Bicks asked.
Boyd turned to leave. "They're all broken."
*
"Rebecca was amazing." Joel said, staring into space. "She was a nurse and... I was a basket case, so you know, not a... not a bad match. I was the guy with the almost great idea - Floogle and Blahoo and Facebooger, I was just always one step behind, and... she was cool with it."
"And did she look exactly like Caroline?" Paul asked mockingly.
"No, but - eat it, F-Bitch-I - she was beautiful and she knew it and... she loved ME. I mean, I had been..." He sighed. "I had been given a gift."
"And now you're hiring zombies."
"You know Rebecca's dead." Joel said flatly. "Because you've done one iota of research in between beating up licensed security people. Right? And you know I don't live in this house."
Paul nodded. "Place is empty. Shame: big place."
Joel scoffed. "This place? This place would fit in my bathroom. I mean, this place could fit in my guest bathroom. All right? I mean, I finally got one step ahead."
Paul smiled. "'Bouncy the Rat.' Kids love it."
"Ooh, they do. I mean, long story - still kind of long - my first cheque had more zeros than the Luftwaffe."
"The Japanese." Paul corrected. "They had the zeros, not the Germans."
Joel sighed. "It was money. All right, it was roll-around-in money and Rebecca had no idea. She'd been supporting the both of us for years, I mean ridiculous hours. We were living in a one-room shack, and I knew this house was exactly her type. I paid cash and I called her up. I said, "Meet me at this address, it's really important," and she was worried, you know, I could hear it. Sh-She probably thought this was a police station or something, but... you know... thinking about the look on her face when she saw this place and I told her it was ours..." Joel's face slowly fell, hos eyes went to his feet. "Sanitation truck... sideswiped her car... three blocks from here, and I heard the impact and... they said it was quick. I guess that, you know, they always have to say that. Right? But she never got to see this house, and she never knew I made good. So every year on this date, I pretend she does. You know, I get to see that look on her face and I get to show her our extraordinary home."
"And then you sleep with her."
Joel smiled, shrugged. "It is a fantasy."
"I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Mynor. It doesn't make you anything other than a predator."
"Well, I'm sure I'm in need of some serious moral spankitude, but, uh, guess who's not qualified to be my rabbi."
"Well, I'm perfectly happy to let a federal judge--"
"Throw you in jail, hmm? I mean we got trespassing, we got assault, and what you've got is a girl you're obsessed with, who I think we can both agree is not here. I mean, this is not "beat up the geek," big guy. This is the Internet establishment. You put me in front of a judge, he'll take you down. He'll throw the Kindle at you."
Paul looked up as sirens wailed in the distance. Joel laughed.
"Oh... oh, I-I think one of my guys must have called 911. Um, do you want to stick around, see who gets cuffed or...?"
"This is all going to come apart." Paul said, rising from the chair. "You might not be punished and I might not be alive, but this house will fall."
"The first hurdle in my business is the people who will not accept the change that's already happened. Go. Go live in your real world. If you ever did."
Paul scowled, but left as the sirens neared. Joel raised his wine glass to the air.
"Happy anniversary..."
*
Boyd followed a stray Active down the corridor leading to the Pod Room. At the curve leading into the room was a blue sliding door, flanked by two vases on podiums. The Active admired it for a moment before heading for bed. Boyd looked at the ceiling. No cameras. He took out his phone and quickly dialled.
"This is Boyd Langton for Mr. Dominic... Yes, you need to take Victor off the floor. I'm sure. Isolate him... and his handler."
*
Echo found Victor sitting alone under the main stairway. She approached him slowly and sat beside him.
"I did something bad." he said guiltily.
"What did you do?" Echo asked.
"Nobody will tell me..."
One of the helpers approached, flanked by two guards.
"Victor, I need you to come with me, please." the helper said.
"Where?" Victor asked.
"I need you to come with me, please." she repeated in a higher pitch.
Victor stood. The guards lead the way. Victor looked at Echo. "Why did Sierra scream at me?"
She didn't get to answer before he was whisked away.
"Who authorized this? I didn't rape the Doll. Lawrence, Lawrence, I didn't so this!"
Echo looked up. The new man, Victor's friend Bicks, was being dragged away by Mr. Dominic and a few other men. "You know me, man. I wouldn't do this, man. Come one, you know, I didn't do this! I didn't do this!"
Echo saw Boyd and Mr. Hearn were watching too. She approached them cautiously as Bicks disappeared.
"Where are they taking Victor?" we asked.
"Why don't you go paint something?" Hearn said. "Nice work, man." he said to Boyd before departing.
"Where are they taking Victor?" Echo repeated to Boyd.
"Echo, I'm trying to protect Sierra."
"Sierra cries." Echo said.
Boyd shook his head. "Not anymore."
*
"Is this enough?" Mellie asked, holding up the ice.
Paul nodded. "Thanks."
He went to the kitchen and wrapped the ice in a cloth. Mellie looked at him over the counter. "Are you, uh, always gonna show up bleeding? 'Cause it's kind of funny how I'm not getting used to it..."
Paul held the ice to his shoulder and joined her in the living room. "It was her."
"You met Caroline?" Mellie said, eyes wide.
"I saw Caroline. I met Rebecca. And I let both of them get away."
"So, it's all true...?"
"I knew it was true. I just didn't expect... If it had been anybody else, the jail cells would be full, and I'd be busy writing the great American arrest report. I never thought it would be her."
"Did you get the guy? The... john, the... client. What are they called?"
"I talked to him."
"And?"
Paul looked at her anxious face. He dropped the ice, leaned in, and kissed her, wrapping her in a tight embrace. Mellie squirmed as the ice touched her back, but she held on, kissed him back--
And pulled away.
"And you kissed him?" she breathed, confused.
"I'm sorry--"
"I'm not, I mean, I am, I- I mean you are, don't do that, don't inflate the stock before you dump it, uh..." she gasped for air. "Uh... don't think about her and kiss me."
"I wasn't," Paul said. "I..."
"Forget it." Mellie said, waving her hand. "I think it's best we forget it. Would be stupid, anyway. We're neighbours, we should just..."
"We should be neighbourly." Paul suggested.
"Great! Yes! Neighbourly." she punched him playfully. "Can I borrow a cup of sugar?"
They both laughed nervously.
"Like that... so why don't you tell me about today."
Paul nodded. "The guy's name was Joel Mynor."
Mellie beamed. "Joel Mynor? From Bouncy the Rat? He was on the cover if Wired!"
"You read Wired?"
"You can see the cover in stores. Brownish hair, pudgy, kind of cute?"
Paul forrowed his brow. "I don't remember him as cute..."
*
Sierra walked down the corridor to the Pod room but stopped at the sliding blue door. The silhouette was there. She pulled the door inside and stood next to Mr. Hearn.
"Do you trust me?" he asked.
"With my life."
"Do you want to play the game?"
Sierra shook her head. "No."
"But... you remember to be very quite during the game, right?" Hearn said softly.
Sierra nodded. "'Noise is upsetting'." she quoted.
Hearn's hands went to her belt. "Lift up your dress."
As Sierra grabbed her hem, Mr. Langton appeared and right hooked Hearn in the face, causing him to stumble back against the glass door, which shattered under his weight. He collapsed on the carpet, crumpled on a bed of powdered glass.
"That wasn't quiet." Sierra observed.
Boyd looked at Hearn. "Wasn't meant to be."
*
"Why didn't you tell us you were setting up Hearn?" Adelle said, staring out the window, her back to Boyd.
"He had to be clear." Boyd explained. "He had to be flush with success, or he'd never have tried again."
"You will never take action like that on your own again inside these walls. Am I clear?"
Boyd nodded. "You're clear."
"...A bonus has been wired to your account."
"I don't need a bonus--"
"Well, I need to give it to you. That's all."
Boyd bowed out. "Ms. DeWitt."
Mr. Dominic opened the door for him. Adelle sighed and collapsed in her chair. "What do we do with Hearn?" he asked.
"I'll let you know." Adelle said flatly.
"And you saw the other thing, the tap?"
Adelle clicked a button on her keyboard. A clip from the hidden camera in Paul Ballard's apartment began playing. He was talking to his neighbour about Wired magazine.
"Ma'am, do you have an exit strategy?" Dominic asked. At Adelle's glare, he continued. "We have a handler abusing an Active, a federal agent interrupting an engagement, spilling his guts to the nearest civilian. I take much of that as my responsibility, but the higher-ups will target you if this all goes south."
"Your concern is touching, but my bags are not packed. You will bring the handler to me. And as far as the intrepid agent... tell Topher to prep Echo. I think they're ready for a second date."
*
Topher stared intently at the computer screen, playing with the imprints. "Oh-ho. You're bad. Mmm. You're a naughty girl." He hit the keyboard. "Oh. Okay. Uh... but you're not that girl. That girl has control issues that don't mesh well with the enhanced combat skill set."
Ivy appeared iver his shoulder. "You can re-cluster the inhibitors to offset the dissonance. Don't we want aggression?"
"And precision. I need a soupçon of rage. Hmm? Not a whole tasting menu. Mmm." Topher froze. "And now I'm hungry." he sighed. "Find out if the kitchen has the almond-crusted salmon."
Ivy sighed, but nodded. "I live to serve lunch."
She departed. Topher bit a few more keys before marvelling at his creation.
"Uh-huh. And hello, gorgeous but deadly!"
Topher hit the enter key and, a few seconds later, the imprint was saved onto the Wedge. He took it from the slot--
"Topher?"
Topher jumped. Boyd was in the doorway. Topher groaned. "I'm in my process! I'm..."
He moaned again, but followed Boyd outside of the office, shutting the door.
"What's the scuttlebutt?"
"Echo's been engaged."
"Well, that does happen..."
Boyd glared. "I'm not on it. I'm on hold."
Topher chuckled. "Yeah. You put another handler through a plate glass window, big guy. That's 48 hours chill time, min."
"What is she doing?"
"Echo? Oh... life coach gig. You know, remind some doctor why he helps kids who have, you know... gross kids..."
"They don't think I can handle that?"
Topher laughed awkwardly. "Uh, not everything is about you, Infinite Ego Man. You know, you did nail the guy who was messing with Sierra. You should go out and get drunk and beat your chest. Echo will be here when you get back. Hey. How did you figure out it was Hearn, anyway? Is it a cop thing? Reading people?"
Boyd shrugged and departed. "You do the work." he finished before descending the stairs. Topher looked after him.
"Well... Good work..."
*
"Can you imagine at all why it is you are not dead?" Adelle asked Hearn, beaten, bloody and tied to a chair in the centre of her office. Dominic stood shortly behind him.
"You probably got something worse planned." Hearn mumbled through his split lip. "You gonna erase my brain, turn me into one of your fantasy boys?"
Adelle raised an eyebrow and leaned against the window. "I find it a bit sad that you think of yourself as a candidate for anyone's fantasy."
Hearn smiled, despite it all. "Ah, you know you're a little sweet on me--"
Dominic swatted him hard across the temple with a resounding collision to the skull. Hearn screamed and went still, breathing heavily. "You think I'm gonna beg?!" he spat. "You want to kill me? You want to put me in the Attic? I can't stop you. The jig is up."
"How many times?" Adelle said. "I can find out, but I want to hear it from you."
Hearn panted, but eventually spoke. "Four."
"You're disgusting." Dominiv snarled.
"Don't give me that! You put her under dome fat, old emir, it makes it better because she thinks she's in love for all of a day? We're in the business of using people!"
"You understand less about this business than you think." Adelle countered.
"And you don't get how it actually works down there! You put a bunch of stone foxes with no willpower and no memory running around naked! Did you think this wouldn't ever happen?!"
Adelle considered him for a moment before retrieving a file from her cabinet.
"Did it make it better?" she asked. "That she didn't struggle?"
"No." Hearn panted. "It made it easier."
Dominic looked ready to strangle him. "Mr. Dominic," Adelle said. "Would you leave us?"
"Ms. DeWitt, I--"
"I'll be perfectly safe. Please."
Dominic gave a parting death glare to Hearn before walking out.
Adelle strode to Hearn and looked down at his pathetic, crumpled form. "We are in the business of using people. The question is, what is the best use for someone like you? This woman is a problem for us." She handed him an open file. Inside lay a picture of Paul Ballard's lovesick puppy, Mellie. "She's learned too much about the organization. It wasn't her fault, really. I need her killed and it can't be clean. This is your chance to avoid the Attic. You may even consider it something of a promotion. After all, this one will... probably struggle."
*
Mellie let her head fall against the pillow. "My God. You're so... neighborly."
Paul chuckled and kissed her again before rolling to the other side of the bed, clutching his stitches.
"So." he said. "Can I borrow a cup of sugar?"
Mellie laughed and pulled the sheet around her. "I don't think I got any sugar left." She fell silent for a moment. "I'm not gonna freak out on you."
Paul was clearly confused. "Uh... good?"
"When you tell me this is all a mistake, and we should forget it ever happened." she clarified. "I'm gonna be very cool. You're gonna be bothered by how cool I am."
"What if I don't say that?"
She shrugged. "I'll still be cool, but not as cool."
"What if you tell ME it was a mistake?"
Mellie smiled. "Oh, God, you're gonna be so clingy! Weeping and moping. Texting me? It's too embarrassing!"
"I am not a piece of meat, you know. I have a heart!"
Mellie laughed and curled up next to him. "Blah, blah!" They lay there silent for a few moments. "I was thinking about Caroline."
Paul looked at her. "Well, I wasn't!"
Mellie laughed again. "I believe you. And... I believe you should find her. I think what they're doing is wrong. And I don't love seeing you get beat up and shot, but... I think your work is important."
Paul stared at her for a moment. "Then help me out."
Mellie's eyes widened. "Is this the part where you dress me up and use me as bait? Because those movies never end well."
Paul sat up. "It's the part where I run down to Tiki Port and grab us dinner and we go over my files and you give me your perspective on some stuff. Might see something I didn't."
"You think I'd be helpful?"
Paul nodded. "Yeah."
Mellie smiled. "That's the sweetest thing you've done for me all day."
"Well... what about the, um... the other things?"
Mellie laughed and lay back down. "Fetch me spring rolls. Then we'll bust this case wide open!"
*
"And some beef chop suey, okay?"
The man nodded and stepped out from the Tiki Port desk. Paul stood in the cramped space draped in red and purple silk and lit by candles. Paul watched the man go. He pushed open the kitchen door and Paul got a reflection of the kitchen. All steam, pots and pans...
And a beautiful girl with shiny brown hair and wide brown eyes.
Paul blinked. The door had shut. He looked around cautiously before pushing the door open. The restaurant kitchen was barren, all the cooking meals abandoned. The man who had entered wasn't here, nor was anyone. Paul stepped hesitantly forward, lifting his jacket and reaching for his waistband--
Caroline grabbed the gun and twisted Paul's arm behind him. She held him from behind and jammed the gun into his temple.
"Whoever you are, I don't want to hurt you." he said calmly. "I swear, I don't want to hurt you."
"I know." she said.
She spun him around and sent him onto his back with a punch to the jaw. She grabbed a knife and towered over him.
"I'm counting on it."
*
Paul scrambled to his feet and peeled his jacket off. He flung it at Caroline - or whoever she was - and she flinched. Paul reached for a weapon, but Caroline swing a few punches. He blocked and swung her into the counter and dodged her swipe with the knife. Paul slammed her wrist on the counter and the knife fell, but she beat him away, ducked under him, and shoved him into the counter, hitting his sternum with a spin kick. Paul faltered, Caroline grabbed a pot and it struck, landing at his feet. Paul regained himself and chucked a flying pan towards her head but Caroline ducked and blade kicked him, sending him sprawling over the counter. Paul scrambled up as she grabbed a pasta pot, yanking open a freezer door to guard himself. It shattered on impact, glass rained down upon Paul, but he was out in seconds and finally got a kick to Caroline's gut. She folded and Paul tackled her, Caroline fell over Paul's shoulder, and they slammed against the back door, which flung open into an alleyway. Paul threw her down on the hood of a parked car and readied a punch, but Caroline smacked either side of his head, dazing him, and she sent him flying into the far wall. She jumped to her feet, they punched, blocked, countered, she ducked and hooked around his leg, flipping him. He fell to the ground with a crack, his legs slamming off the car hood. Caroline kicked him in the gut but Paul backed off and was on his feet again. They sparred, Paul got a few good hits in, but Caroline stuck her boot in his stitches and twisted, ripping a few open. Paul spun and shoved her onto the car hood. He jumped up to hit her, only to be kicked off. He slammed his palm into her face and pounced, raising his elbow, clenching his hand into a fist. Paul got a glimpse of her terrified face and his fist froze.
That was his mistake.
Caroline's face dropped the terrified act in a flash and knocked him back, kicking his legs out from under him. He hit the ground face first. She propelled herself to her feet and stabbed her heel into the small of his back, Paul heard the gun click...
"The Dollhouse is real. They know you're after them and they are going to have you taken off the case. That's why they sent me."
She removed her boot. Paul struggled to his legs, panting. "Why are you telling me this?"
She looked at him. Whoever this was, it wasn't the real Caroline. Just her body. "We have a person inside. This person corrupted the imprint while the programmer wasn't looking, added this parameter."
"Is this the person that sent me the tapes and pictures?"
Caroline shook her head. "No. This is their first communication. Security inside is very tight."
"Where is it?"
"You can't know that. You're going about this the wrong way."
"I have to take down the Dollhouse--!"
"There are over 20 Dollhouses, in cities around the world." she said. "They have ties to every major political power on the planet. You cannot possibly stop them alone."
"You're going to help me?"
"The person that sent this message is."
Paul's ragged breathing slowed. "Why?"
Caroline's eyes bore into him. "The Dollhouse deals in fantasy. That is their business, but that is not their purpose."
Paul's brow furrowed. "What is?"
"We need you to find out. We'll contact you again, if possible with this same body. But you have to let the Dollhouse win. Make them back off. You have to trust me."
Paul heard footsteps. A man ran up the alley, holding a gun, Paul caught a glimpse of a police badge--
Caroline stuck the gun in Paul's gun. She whirled around, screamed "He's got a gun!" and pressed Paul's finger into the trigger. A bullet shot from the barrel and hit the man, who fell into the shadows.
She turned frantically to Paul. "You have to go: NOW." Paul went for the cop, but Caroline stopped him. "He'll live. You'll be blamed. The engagement is complete; they'll never know I spoke to you."
"No--"
"You have to go. They don't want to kill you, but they will protect the information."
Paul turned. The man who had taken his order had poked his head out. "Call an ambulance!" Paul ordered. "Officer down!" The man scurried away. Caroline looked at him urgently. "Go!" she yelled.
"You can't just--"
"They will protect the information. They don't want you dead. But anyone else..."
Anyone else. Anyone else with the information...
"Mellie..."
Paul abandoned Caroline in the alley, no longer caring, and ran for his apartment.
*
Mellie placed the files on the desk and was going to go to the kitchen when she heard the lock in the door clicking. She smiled and went to the hall. Paul was here--
Th door burst open and a man clad in black threw Mellie to the ground. A second later, he slammed her against Paul's counter, Mellie gave a muffled scream, reached for any kind of weapon, but then the man tossed her like a ragdoll over the couch. She hit the rug and tried desperately to crawl away, screaming, tears flowing, but the man grabbed her by the ankles and dragged her across the floor towards him. She screamed, using the last of her air before the man wrapped his hands around her throat and began strangling her. She writhed and slammed against his arms. She peeled the mask off his face. A middle-aged man, face seriously beaten, spit flying. Mellie was faintly aware of the phone ringing as she ran out of air. Paul was calling, trying to save her...
The phone went to the answering machine. A woman spoke. A British woman. The man froze, his hands stopped strangling.
Mellie knew the voice. How was that possible?
""There are three flowers in a vase." Adelle DeWitt said simply. "The third flower... is green."
Mellie gasped. Her head stung, mind in tatters, things being torn away in a flash, everything, and then--
Mellie went away.
November looked at the man and slammed her palm into his face. He fell back and she got to her feet, grabbed him by the scrotum and slammed him against the wall. He tried to beat her off, but November countered easily and threw him to the ground. His chin hooked on the coffee table and November slammed her foot into his neck, which snapped with a sickening crack.
"There are three flowers in a vase." Adelle said. "The third flower... is yellow."
November felt memories being stuck into her skull like hot needles. She would've screamed, but then she went away...
Mellie looked around, dazed. What was happening, where was she...?
She looked at the floor. The man, the one who had attacked her seconds ago, had snapped his neck in the coffee table. Mellie took one look at him and went into hysterics, crawling away, curling into a ball against the wall, weeping...
Paul appeared a moment later, gun raised. He crouched beside her, made sure she was alright. He examined the body cautiously before returning to her side, embraced her as the sirens filled her ears...
*
"I understand," Dominic said into his phone. "Thank you. We'll talk soon." he hung up and turned to Adelle. "Agent Paul Ballard was suspended of duty pending an investigation into the shooting of Officer Hardin. Accusations of violent paranoia, the attack on Mr. Mynor's bodyguards, the feud with the Borodins, as evidenced by the break in at his apartment."
"Hearn's fingerprints?" Adelle asked.
"Came up Russian. A floater, not linked to anyone with power. It's all tied together, ma'am. With a pretty bow."
"And our sleeper Active performed perfectly." Adelle added.
Dominic nodded. "I replayed the tap."
"More than once? It did not lack for poetry. Bring her in so Topher can run a diagnostic."
"Are we pulling her?" he asked as they entered the elevator. "Now that Ballard's off the case?"
"No. A man like Ballard doesn't take himself out of the game just because of this. Besides... she loves him."
"You played a good hand, ma'am."
"I played a very bad hand very well. There is a distinction."
He nodded. "Of course."
The doors opened onto the upper deck of the Dollhouse, down the catwalk from Topher's office. They strolled towards the stairs. "I want you to contact your counterparts in all the other houses, tell them about what happened to Sierra."
"That won't look good for you." Dominic pointed out.
"It can't happen again." Adelle replied resolutely. "Anywhere."
Dominic leaned over the railing. Down below, Sierra was sitting on a couch, reading a book. "She's all right?"
Adelle looked to Sierra, slightly pitiful. "Topher did everything he knows to remove the experience. Ignorance, in this case, truly is bliss."
"I don't think they're as ignorant as they're supposed to be."
Adelle looked to the floor. "No. We're working on it."
Dominic departed, and Adelle made her way down the stairs to the Dollhouse floor. Victor approached Sierra, who smiled, and he sat. Adelle noted Boyd and Doctor Saunders watching from above as they read.
Adelle made her way to the art area. Echo was sitting, legs folding, wearing an apron over her tank top and trousers as she painted.
"Hello, Echo." Adelle said, sitting across from her. "You've drawn a picture. It's very good."
"It isn't finished." Echo said simply.
"The picture?"
Echo lifted the page. She had painted a nice, suburban house, with a lawn and sprinklers. Standing next to a small blue car was a short, heavyset man with a tuft of brown hair and a slender woman with a shiny brown ponytail wearing a floral dress.
"It isn't finished."
Adelle stared at her. "...You'd like it to be finished?"
Echo looked at the house.
*
Joel stood on the lawn, dodging the sprinkler, until Rebecca arrived.
She pulled up in a small blue car. She was wearing a floral dress, her shiny brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her beautiful face full of worry. “Joel?”
“Hi, honey.”
“Are you okay? You sounded so serious on the phone…”
“I'm a serious guy.”
She kissed him. “You're a dork. Louanne's covering for me, so this can't take forever.”
“You may have to owe her one. I did something.”
“Something bad?”
He chuckled. “No. Something very, very good…”