Darkstone Secret Agent: Episode 7: The End, Or Is It?

Episode 7: The End, Or Is It?

Ethan Fairchild hadn't been surprised to see Gia Doyle slither into the hotel room where he had initially planned hours of sexual antics with the stately beauty, Rachel Demarco. But what he was taken aback by was what happened next. Gia revealed her position in the small room then shot both Rachel and Carter Wayne at point blank range.

But she wasn't finished yet, Ethan noticed.

His second shock was when she grabbed Rachel's gun from her dead hand and pointed the cool metal at him! He was, to say the least, flabbergasted.

"I always thought I was a good judge of character. And I have been wrong before, but never this wrong," Ethan tugged at his restraints. They were as solid as the metal they were constructed from.

"Believe your delusions, Ethan, but you were never that good at reading me." Gia raised the nose of her Glock and it quivered slightly betraying her true emotions.

Ethan was distracted momentarily when the room spun, then went gray and out of focus. The room was still there, but everything about it was muted, darkened. He blinked away the obscurity quickly wanting to train his focus instead on Gia and not on his strained eye sight.

"You don't want to kill me, Gia. You never have. If you did, then you wouldn't have given me that bullet proof vest that saved me from Octavia's bullet in Bulgaria." He began grasping for straws to influence Gia into letting him go. "What about Amsterdam eight years ago? I'm sure neither one of us will ever forget that mission."

A traitorous tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away with a flick of a finger. "You may have different memories of that time than I do, Ethan. That is where this all started. At least, it did for me."

Ethan didn't know what she was talking about, nor did he really care. All that concerned him was escape.

"You've never had to take over a personality so completely that even you begin to believe it yourself. You've never had to give up everything... for... because of those you serve. They made me give up everything I ever wanted because of you. You are my true enemy, Ethan." Gia's Glock quivered again, but this time it was in anger. Whatever was seething inside of her was an emotion he had never seen in her before.

"So, killing me. That's going to bring you justice?"

"In a way, yes." The tears were flowing now. Gia brushed them away with the butt of her palm. "You never knew me before... before I was Gia. I was innocent then. My only want was to protect my family."

Family? This was new. Gia Doyle had a family? It was something he never would have thought her emotionally capable of.

While he kept her talking, he managed to slip free from the handcuffs, an old trick taught to him by a carney magician. In a flash, he stood, grabbed the chair in which he was sitting and round housed it into Gia's body, knocking her off balance. He knew the action would only make her more angry, but it was a chance he was willing to take.

Her head whipped around nailing him with a laser gaze. Blood oozed down her lip. "I'm spilling out my heart to you," she growled. "At least have the decency to give me your fill attention." She retaliated with a flurry of punches and kicks of her own.

She had him down for the count when his eyes went out of focus again. Never before had he had such problems with his vision, and it was beginning to concern him.

"Don't fight it, Ethan. The serum they gave you had a slight side effect. It not only make someone tell the truth... it will also render the captive blind." Her laugh was rough and heartless. He really had been hopelessly wrong about her. Gia Doyle had no heart, which is probably what made her such a good spy.

Carter Wayne's gun was still in his grasp. Ethan didn't think the dead man would mind him absconding with his weapon. What was he going to use it for in death? He did a dive roll across the room landing him close to the door, then grabbed the gun out of Carter's hand. He whipped to attention aiming the firearm at Gia.

"My father always told me to trust no one." He smiled slightly at the memory. "I thought he was just being my old cynical pop. But now I know better, don't I?"

Gia had her Glock also pointed at him. "You can't get away, Ethan. You've never get away."

He stared at her stoically. "Watch me."

Like a gun slinger, he twirled the cool metal around and bashed Gia over the side of the head. He didn't stand around to watch her crumple to the ground. He knew her well enough to know that she would definitely have someone watching her back in case she wasn't successful. Ethan made sure to steer clear of them.

As the minutes ticked by, Gia's prediction came true. The serum was still doing a number on his vision. Slowly, it became worse and worse until he could barely see the shapes passing before him. Somehow, by the grace of God, he managed to stumble into a train station. He knew the underground subway would get him close to headquarters even if he couldn't himself.

He had always told himself that he wouldn't take the train, especially after he acquired his first sports car. Red, of course. Today he knew he would have to make an exception to that rule since he couldn't see well enough to walk much less drive.

When the conductor called out the Westminster station, he debarked clumsily, bumping into passengers along the sidewalk. For awhile, he wondered if he could see well enough to enter the code that would gain him access to the headquarters, but there was something odd about the key pad. It didn't light up when he pressed the digits.

This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. Could a hostile have gained access to Legacy headquarters?

The door swung open easily. It hadn't been locked.

He held his gun in the ready position in case he needed to use deadly force. Ethan tried to blink away the foc obscuring his vision but it was only getting worse. He was nearly to the end of the tunnel that would open up into the Control Center, the heart of the Legacy's operation. As the large steel doos swung open, he was shocked by what he saw.

Only silence welcomed him home. Silence and emptiness.

Everything was gone. The computers. The chairs. The personnel. Everything. The entire complex was barren. But there were scorch marks on the wall that told some sort of battle had been fought in the room.

Where was the Legacy? What happened to it?

He dropped to his knees in the empty space, his gun clanking on the concrete floor. It was then his vision decided to leave him entirely.

Now he was not only blind, but alone.

~~~ The End of Darkstone ~~~

Darkstone Secret Agent: Episode 6: The Forgotten Assassin

Episode 6: 

The Forgotten Assassin

Legacy Headquarters - London

Bobbie Sullivan realized the image on the monitor was someone he knew. At first, he thought the man to be an intruder. He didn't dress like a normal Legacy agent. But maybe that was because this person had gone way undercover as a stripper.

What was he doing back here, Bobbie wondered to himself.

As if reading his mind, the girl at the computer next to him put in her two cents worth. Something she was known to do, at length, all the time.

"Jealousy rears its ugly head." Alison Corday said in a mocking tone. "My, but that man is so not in the realm of the ugly department." Alison had come to a standing position over Bobbie's shoulder where she could see the man who had just entered the Legacy compound.

"You... you don't know what you're talking about." Bobbie whispered nervously. "I am not jealous of anyone."

"Oh, really?" Alison asked with an arched eyebrow. "So, then, why is it you look like you could kill with one menacing look in his oh-so-fine direction?"

The new controller had no answer for Alison.

"Well, then, let me tell you what I do know. I know that man is Jonah Sogard. I know that Kevin, fine babe that he is, asked Jonah to watch out for Faith. And that little fact is tearing you up inside."

Alison pulled her long blond hair off her neck and sighed. Bobbie was fixated on the unattainable girl, he always had been. He had a string of never-quite-happening relationships that Alison had been keeping track of ever since she entered the crypto-analysis division of the Legacy.

Bobbie's latest fixation was on Faith Fairchild. And couldthere be a more unattainable girl? If he was smart, he would turn around and realize that there was someone ready, willing and available right before his eyes.

The controller's next comment brought her out of her momentary reflection.

"He's just watching out for her, not seducing her!" Bobbie's voice climbed in volume.

"How do you know?" Alison challenged. "He could have made wild, crazy, passionate love to her. I mean, what else is there to do up in Nowhere Pass but watch the snow pile up and get cozy in front of a roaring fire?" Alison knew she was on one of her rolls. "And if I may remind you, Jonah is quite the stud muffin hunk. They wouldn't have put him undercover as a stripper if he didn't have the looks and the brains and the body."

Bobbie didn't want to hear this. He had enough of this from his own conscience. He didn't need sarcastic Alison to keep reminding him of how out-of-his-reach Faith really was.

"What are you trying to do? Torture me?" He let out a frustrated sigh. "I already know Jonah has one up on all us lesser beings, but there is nothing wrong with the rest of us. Maybe she's looking for brains over brawn."

The more Bobbie thought about what could have happened between Jonah and Faith on the mountain, the more insecure he became.

Alison ran a light hand along Bobbie's chest. "Did I say there was anything wrong with you? I happen to think you are quite a fine specimen of man."

"You think every man is a fine specimen."

Alison continued as if Bobbie hadn't spoken. "But Faith, she's a different story all together. She grew up with brothers who risked their lives on a daily basis. They were her most important male role models. So, it's only logical that she would go after a man like Jonah. He's cast from the same mold as Kevin and Ethan. He thrives on conflict -- just like Faith does."

"Thank you Dr. Alison for that unwarranted and unnecessary psychological profile."

"I'm just trying to be realistic about this, Bobbie. You and I are cast from the same cloth too. We were young computer geniuses..."

"Please, let's not go there. I have bigger things on my mind."

She watched as Bobbie marched off to confront Jonah. When he was determined, he didn't mince words or beat around the bush.

"Where's Faith?" Bobbie asked as soon as Jonah made his way into Control Central.

"How did you ..." Jonah's eyes were full of questions. "Never mind. I don't even want to know about the places you had to hack to come up with that intel."

"It doesn't matter how I found out. What does matter is that we have to find her." Bobbie's voice quivered but was still adamant.

Jonah placed his Legacy issued Glock on the table and began refilling the magazine with bullets. "We don't have to doanything , Bobbie. She ditched me of her own free will. If that psycho, Ian, catches up with her, that's her own fault. It's not my problem any more."

"Some protector you are," Bobbie mumbled. He forked fingers through his already messy blond hair.

"I never wanted the job, kid. If you're so concerned about her, you traipse up there and find her yourself." Jonah shoved the magazine back into the gun butt and placed it in his shoulder holster.

Bobbie shouted at Jonah's retreating figure.

"I will. That's exactly what I'll do. You'll see. She'll be fine! Just fine!"

***

Ethan Fairchild couldn't believe his luck. It hadn't taken long to find a woman willing to spend time with him. It wasn't like he was searching for love, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"I'm so glad you changed your mind," the red head said. "It's so exciting to go out with a big, strong man like you." The woman's voice was high-pitched almost baby-like. But he wasn't going to hold that against her.

"Why don't we go back to my hotel room and get more comfortable," she said playfully.

Ethan wasn't about to say no.

Her hotel room wasn't far from the bar. He should have expected conflict, but he wasn't in a working mood.

Rachel Demarco was acting coyly innocent. That should have been his first clue, but he hadn't been looking for trouble. Trouble had found him.

The bathroom door was closed, then it suddenly burst open rattling hinges. A snarling man loomed in the doorway. His eyes widened. He knew this man. This was the injured man from the studio parking lot. The one that was supposed to be dead. Didn't anyone ever stay in their graves any more? The man had gone from near death to remission in hours.

Ethan laughed. "No wonder your body disappeared. You were never really hurt, were you?" He rounded the coffee table keeping a small distance between himself and the man-woman team that had obviously lured him here.

"No, I was never injured. We needed time to find out if we could trust you." Carter Wayne made no bones about his intentions.

"And how did you ascertain that you could trust me? Are you a mind reader too?" Ethan felt a tiny prick on his neck. He reached up and picked a tiny dart out of his skin.

"No, not a mind reader," Rachel said, slowly. "You're going to tell us everything we want to know."

***

Angela Hastings was more annoyed than usual. Her date with the hunky Ethan had been a total disaster. Then Chance had run out of her apartment without having one bite of chocolate-chocolate chip ice cream. In light of their mutual misery, she found his actions odd.

She didn't know what was wrong with her. How could she compete with a sexy, slim television actress? In real life, Rachel Demarco appeared almost sickly, but on television, she looked radiantly beautiful. Who wouldn't be in love with her? Rachel was one of her best friends, and so was Chance. So why wouldn't Chance see her as the woman she really was?

***

Chance Michaels felt like ten times the fool. He had watched from afar as Rachel had thrown herself into the arms of a man she had just met in the smoky bar. He couldn't express how jealous he was. And after his fight with Carter earlier, he was ready to release some aggression.

What was wrong with him? He was tired of pretending to be someone he wasn't. He was tired of lying to his friends. He was tired of falling for the wrong woman. Why couldn't he find someone to love? Not that it would be easy to love him in his current profession as television spy by day and real CIA spy by night. He was frustrated and angry and needed to talk to someone he trusted.

Before he realized it, he was standing outside Angela's door. Her sleepy eyes greeted him. The night shirt she wore was too large and hung down over one shoulder exposing sensitive ivory skin to his view.

For the first time, he saw Angela for what she was, a beautiful, sexy woman.

"Chance?" she asked wearily, still lethargic from sleep. "Is everything okay?"

The words caught in his throat. Why had he come here again? "Could I come in?"

Angela nodded and stepped asked for him to enter. The hallway was the only area of the house lit up, and when Angela felt along the wall for the light switch, Chance placed his hands over hers.

"You don't need to turn it on on my account."

Angela seemed more awake now and sat down on the sofa. Chance joined her there.

"Did something happen with Rachel?"

Chance chuckled. "There was never any me and Rachel. But my ego wouldn't let me admit it to myself." He ran a hand up her arm and kneaded her shoulders.

Angela closed her eyes and gave into the sensation. But her skepticism was still evident.

"That feels amazing, but what is really going on here?"

"Shhh." Chance whispered, putting a finger to her lips. "I'm seducing you."

Angela's eyes widened and a smile lit her face. "Oh, is that what you're doing?"

"That's what I'm doing." His finger tips brushed down her back settling on her waist.

She sighed, her words breathy and slow. "Okay, just checking. Please continue."

"Honey, I've never stopped."

As her hands reached for him, he locked her into an embrace and trailed a string of kisses down her neck.

"If I'm dreaming," she whispered. "Don't wake me up."

He pushed her down into the couch cushions and branded her mouth with his. Tonight would be a night they both would remember.

***

Ethan tired of answering their questions. Whatever they had shot into his system was ten times more powerful than sodium penthal. His brain didn't give him a chance to even think about not answering.

"What world leaders are you responsible for assassinating?" Rachel Demarco asked suddenly. Her partner Carter Wayne seemed taken aback by her audacity.

"What are you doing?" he spat. "He won't know the answer to that. This type of programming is devised to withstand such interrogations."

"So you say," she challenged. "But I want to find out for myself."

"None," Ethan said, simply. "I don't kill the good guys."

Rachel laughed. "You don't know what you've done. That's the saddest part about this whole thing."

"What I've done?" Ethan struggled to spit out the words, then tugged at his restraints. His wrists were bound by chains and shackled to the legs of the chair he was sitting in. "Lady, I'm one of the good guys."

"That's exactly what I thought too." Carter stepped up and came out of the shadows into Ethan's line-of-sight. "I never would have believed I could be a killer -- until I saw the evidence for myself."

"Evidence? You're saying you have evidence that I'm responsible for the death of some world leader?"

"Actually, you're responsible for several deaths." Carter turned on the VCR and pressed the remote activating the cassette. "This is four years ago in Zimbabwe."

Ethan watched the carnage, but one figure on the tape made it his mission to kill even the innocent. The camera panned in closer. His own face filled the screen.

This couldn't be true, he thought. This had to be some sort of trick, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt it was right. In the video he was wearing the same clothes he'd dreamed about often. They were the clothes he wore in his nightmares.

"We've taken steps to remove the device from your brain that makes you commit these crimes without your consent," Carter said.

"Steps? What steps?"

"We had an operative in place that planted a chip in your brain programmed to attack the hostile chip."

Ethan clearly remembered the hell he went through when the nanites took over his system and nearly killed him. Then the ATP generator had almost claimed his life a second time.

"You did this to me?" he choked out the words."

Carter could tell Ethan was angry.

"You made me a freak!"

"We saved your life, you idiot!" Rachel couldn't help but add. "The nanites attacked the hostile chip rendering it useless. The nightmares should tell you its influences are dwindling."

"This is better? I can't control my own strength, my eyesight is going wacky, not to mention I have millions of little microscopic machines living in every bone and organ in my body. Tell me how this is better?!"

***

Gia Doyle found the antics in the hotel room enlightening. Ethan Fairchild was an assassin? She had heard rumors of Legacy experiments on operatives, but she found it hard to believe they would fiddle with the brain of someone as talented as Ethan.

She pushed her sudden admiration for him aside and pulled out her Glock. The hotel room door was ajar, and due to the large entrance way into the room, neither hostile noticed her enter.

Gia shadowed the walls as she slipped along the perimeter looking for an opening. Any opening. Then she aimed her gun and prepared to fire.

Darkstone Secret Agent: Episode 5: Legacy of Secrets

Episode 5: 

Legacy of Secrets

Haunting eyes followed Ethan as he attracted the admiration of every beautiful woman in the establishment. It was rather funny considering that being in the job he was, attracting attention was a severe no-no. But that didn't seem to bother Ethan Fairchild one bit.

The bulky jacket he had purchased from the second-hand store smelled like must and mildew and looked even worse for wear, but that was what the part entailed. He had to look the part, become the part, blend in. No one could recognize him or it would blow his entire assignment out of the water.

His tall, bulky frame moved awkwardly. His usual movement was fluid and graceful, almost too much so for such a big guy. He had to work at slouching and dragging his feet. But he was confident his scruffy appearance made him appear as he wanted them to see him... as a homeless man. Someone overlooked and kept away from. It was a perfect ruse. Carter Wayne had become a master at hiding in plain sight, and he was sure it would take all his acting ability to succeed here tonight.

He closed his eyes, resting them for a moment. It was hard to remember exactly how long he had been awake. He had been stretched to his limit. The images before him were blurring and the chair in which he sat felt almost glued to his posterior.

He watched Ethan from a distance. Carter knew his droopy eyes only lent credibility to his disguise. After he met up with Fairchild, he promised himself a long nap.

Carter had intel photos of the key players from The Legacy. He had memorized everything about them. The two operatives he knew were in town had come to Hollywood from across the ocean. Ethan Fairchild was the favorite son of The Legacy's High Council. He doubted many knew of the operatives in the secret organization knew how powerful the High Council was, or that it existed at all.

Carter had had many a run in with Bishop. They all named themselves after chess pieces. He only knew two members of the High Council and two was enough. Donovan Jackson Bishop was the loner of the group choosing to live in a small mountain town hours from Legacy Headquarters. But that didn't stop him from ruling the roost when the time came for that. The other council member he had crossed paths with was Chandelor Knight, infamous head of the council and father to The Legacy's nemesis, Julian Black.

Whether Ethan knew it or not, he continued to prove his allegiance to the High Council daily. Carter wondered if he would be such a willing pawn if he knew the truth of what he had done to gain their trust. Carter had done similar things in the name of the establishment, but most were things he never knew he had done or missions he didn't remember being on.

The next person in the photos he held was Gia Doyle. She was quite a complex woman. Her history with The Legacy started eight years ago after a plane accident. She had been the only survivor. Philip Lancaster had gone to bat for Doyle and brought her into The Legacy as a historian. It soon became apparent that Gia's strengths were not only in history but in leadership and murder. She was an intelligent beauty who possessed a deadly aim and a lethal charm.

Carter reveled momentarily how striking the similarities were between Gia and his Darkstone co-star, Rachel Demarco. From afar they could easily be mistaken for one another. He had almost made the error of approaching the red-head earlier and now he was glad he hadn't. the women he had nearly confided in was Gia Doyle not Rachel.

Carter stayed in the shadows of the bar. He looked for his opportunity to confront Ethan. Tonight might be his only chance because in days, if his superiors had anything to say about it, Ethan Fairchild would be terminated, permanently.

His opening came minutes later, but a hand reaching from the darkness grabbed his coat lapel. Carter was momentarily taken by surprise, an unusual feeling for him. He still tried to maintain his composure and not draw attention to himself and the person dragging him closer to the exit.

"What do you want from me?" Carter ground out in a menacing voice. He tried to stay in character, but wanting to haul back and deck the intruder was clouding his vision.

"Cut the act!" the grim voice intoned. "We both know why you're here. And we both know what our mission is."

Carter recognized the voice instantly. It was his other Darkstone co-star, Chance Michaels. He had hoped Chance wouldn't find out about Ethan being in town, but obviously someone had spilled the beans.

"How did you find me?" Carter wrenched free from Chance's grip once the two of them were away from listening ears and prying eyes.

"You know how our superiors are. They like nothing better than tailing us just for the hell of it. Tonight the person hired to keep an eye on you recognized Ethan Fairchild from our intel photos."

Carter shook his head. He was incensed. "I can't believe you're about to kill a man you used to call a friend!"

Chance's face became a mask of anger. "He killed my parents, Carter! I can't just look past that." Chance kicked a nearby trash lid and growled.

"So, what are you saying? You feel the same way about me?" Carter said passionately. "When I was under the Council's control I was also involved in that mission eight years ago. Ethan may have detonated the bomb, but I had a hand in it as well. I never would have found that out if Doc and you and Rachel hadn't helped me rid myself of the microchip."

Chance threw Carter an icy glare.

Carter couldn't believe that Chance had given up on his boyhood friend, the one who had even saved his life once. "I'm not to blame for that plane crash, and neither is Ethan. We were being controlled!"

"So you keep saying. But I have no faith in Ethan Fairchild. And neither should you! Who knows what lengths they have gone to now. You've been out of their grasp for years, Carter!" Chance paced as he ranted. "Maybe Ethan does know about the accident. Maybe he wanted it as much as they did. Maybe he wanted to kill those people. You don't know for sure that the microchip was what made him do it."

"I know all I need to know. He is being controlled by the same people who controlled me. And if we don't stop them, they may just succeed in killing him once his next mission has been completed."

The Darkstone star's face flushed with red. "If they don't kill him, then I'm going to do it for them. I hold out no hope for him. Let your faith in him keep you warm at night, but I'm not so ready to lay everything on the line for him!"

Carter watched as Chance Michaels stalked away down the alley toward his black sports car. The man had too much to lose if he let Ethan die. They all did. Ethan could be the key in bringing down The Legacy for good.

Neither Carter nor Chance saw the woman patiently waiting behind a stack of wooden cartons. Gia Doyle clicked on the safety to her gun, her face a mask of concern.

"Curiousier and curiousier," Gia whispered.

***

As her emotions simmered down, Gia tried to recall the snipet of the conversation she had actually overheard.

When she had learned weeks ago about the chip in Ethan's brain and his near death experience, she had been shocked. But this was an all together different kettle of fish. She had no idea that The Legacy was into mind control, but that notion didn't shock her as much as it should. She had come to realize that the Legacy held many secrets, some she was sure she would never learn.

The two men had talked about mind control. She wondered if it was possible. She attached her pen digital camera into her PDA and transmitted the digital photo she'd taken of the men directly to Bobbie Sullivan's terminal. No point in sending up a red flag to the rest of the staff.

As soon as the file transferred completely, Bobbie Sullivan's image came on her PDA screen. "Hi Miss. Doyle." His greeting was voiced brightly yet somewhat garbled.

"Cut the Pollyanna act, Sullivan. I need you to identify the two men in the digital phot I'm transmitting to you."

As the image downloaded onto Sullivan's screen, he noted the grainy quality of the image. "This is a little dark. I don't know if I can..."

Gia cut him off. She didn't like when people told her they couldn't do something. "I don't care about what you can't do, Sullivan. Identify the men. And once you do that, dig up anything we have on them in The Legacy archives, especially the man on the right. Cross reference his name with anything we have on mind control and our assassins bureau."

"But, Miss Doyle. The archives require passcodes I don't have." Bobbie's voice was filled with nervous energy.

"I don't care, Sullivan." Gia's face matched the anger in her voice. "Just do it!" She snapped the PDA closed and followed in the direction the shabbily dressed man had taken. There was something uncomfortably familiar about him.

***

Bobbie Sullivan sighed. It had only been a few weeks since he'd taken over Jeffrey's place as controller and now he was wondering if this was such a peachy job after all. He rifled a hand through his dark blond hair and itched the near beard that had started to grow in a thin strip along his jawline.

In his spare time, when he hadn't been taking orders from everyone from Kevin to Gia, Bobbie spent his time doing a controlled search for Faith Fairchild. He was surprised that no one had mentioned that she had gone missing. Jonah Sogard, Jeffrey's brother, had been watching over Faith for Kevin while Ian Fairchild was being delt with. At least, that's the way he understood it.

Bobbie fiddled with the grainy photo in an image manipulation program while he tossed around ideas as to where Faith had disappeared to. He couldn't help but contemplate on how beautiful she was. Not beautiful in the obvious, flashy, made-up way, but beautiful in that natural way.

He had to stop thinking about her. It wasn't natural to fixate on someone you hardly knew.

Bobbie took a deep breath. "Okay," he said outloud to himself. "First, I'll find Faith. Yeah, that's what I'll do. Cause I'm probably only thinking about her because Kevin is my friend, and I don't want anything bad to happen to his sister." He knew he was babbling again. "Yeah, and pigs fly." He always babbled when he was excited or nervous, and having a missing girl counting on him to find her put him way up on the nervous scale."

He pulled a picture out of him and Kevin and Faith taken a few years back. She probably wouldn't even remember him, but he had to do this. For Kevin and for himself.

"I'll find you, Faith," he said to the photo. "I promise."

***

Carter wanted to ignore Chance's threats but he was certain he would live up to them. Chance didn't make idle threats. But there was more at stake here than any of his co-workers new. Carter hadn't been completely honest about who he really was.

It had been years since he had seen Ethan. Too many years, but Carter knew why he believed Ethan was innocent. He just hoped that when they all discovered his secret that they would understand.

Carter knew better than anyone how it felt to realize you had been brainwashed into completing missions that were "off the record," missions that ultimately only caused harm and global chaos. He had been there. He had felt the conflicting emotions when the memories started flooding back. Knowing the harm he had done to so many had sent him to the brink of despair. He had even considered ending his life many times, but it was Rachel who had pulled him through it alive.

They were more than co-stars and friends. Carter knew he would never meet another woman like her. After his fight with Chance, Rachel had called asking him to meet her. She sounded as if she had news about their plan. He hoped the news was only positive.

Rachel walked out of the shadows and into their desginated meeting place. She was smiling, swinging her purse in a wide arc.

"Tell me you have something good."

Rachel's smile widened seductively and playfully. "I have something great. Are you going to award me for my top notch detective work?" She ran her hands over Carter's chest and neck.

"Later." His voice cracked giving away how much she affected him. He pulled her distracting hands away from his body. "What do you have?"

"Tonight I have a two for one. Your friend Ethan invited me back to his hotel room. I figured we could set up the meet and greet there. I'm sure you have some catching up to do."

"And?" Carter knew Rachel was playing with him and on any other assignment he would play along, but this was personal.

"And... I was contracted to assassinate Ethan Fairchild tonight. Just call me Solitaire." She grabbed at an imaginary martini glass and smiled broadly. "I'll take that shaken, not stirred, thank you."

"So it's all set then? You'll go back tot he hotel with Ethan..."

"And you'll already be there waiting for us. Do you have the key card Lawrence made up for us to bypass the electronic lock on his door?"

Carter patted his breast pocket. "Right here."

"So, we're ready?" Carter nodded and Rachel threw herself into his arms. "Then let's play first and work later." She glanced at the clock blinking from the bank down the street. "We have time."

***

"What do you have, Sullivan?" Gia wasn't much on greetings or smalltalk. She always cut right to the chase.

"A lot, actually. More than I really thought I would find." Bobbie took a second to organize his thoughts. "The two people in the photo were easy to identify. The one on the left is Chance Michaels. He's the star of the television series, Darkstone: Secret Agent. The man on the right is Carter Wayne. Also on the show in more of a supporting capicity. The only bios I found for them were a lot of PR mumbo jumbo. But what I did find in The Legacy database was interesting."

Bobbie paused and Gia could hear him rifling through papers. He then called up a file on his computer that immediately displayed on her PDA screen.

"This is an embassy bombing four years ago. The perpotrators were never caught, but two interesting people show up in this photo. I actually missed it the first time I looked at it. Let me enlarge his section in the corner." The photo grew larger and digitally became clearer. "There. What do you see?"

The enhanced photo was of Ethan and Carter running away from the scene.

"My, my, haven't we been busy boys?" Gia clicked her tongue against the back of her teeth.

"Oh, and another thing. Carter Wayne isn't his real name. Well, it is, sort of. His real name is Carter Wayne Fairchild. He's Ethan's first cousin."

"That it?" Gia asked as if what she had already received wasn't enlightening. "What else?" Gia wasn't known for her patience. She tapped her foot loud enough for him to hear through the PDA.

"Well, both Ethan and Carter were peridiocally sent to something called Factor 6. I don't know exactly what it is, but from what I have been able to find out about it, it looks a little inky."

"Call me when you have more. I'm going to schmoose with the Hollywood types."

Gia clicked her PDA off and Bobbie fingered the print out he'd retreived from The Legacy archives. Carter and Ethan weren't the only ones involved in Factor 6. He'd also found one more name on the list. Faith Fairchild.

"What's going on?" Bobbie didn't know if he wanted the answer to his question. He only knew he had to find out the truth, for everyone's sake.

***

Gia clicked open her cell phone and dialed an unlisted number that connected directly to Mr. Bishop of the High Council. Her voice held no greeting for him, she merely stated her concern in the form of a terse question.

"I thought you said your sniper took care of Carter Wayne!" Gia hissed harsly into her cell phone.

"It was my understanding that Mr. Wayne had been taken care of." Mr Bishop's voice was calm, yet Britishly sophisticated despite the urgancy of the matter.

"Understand this, chess man. Carter Wayne is very much alive and so close to Ethan he could kiss him. He didn't take his eyes off Ethan all night. Why would he be doing that, Mr. Bishop? Is there some connection between Carter and Ethan?"

The line went silent for a moment and Gia knew he wouldn't answer her question. Seconds later the connection was terminated and the dial tone buzzed in her ear. She snapped the cell phone closed and grunted.

"Dammit! I hate it when he does that."

Darkstone Secret Agent: Episode 4: Unexpected Complications

Episode 4: 

Unexpected Complications

Angela Hastings had managed to trip no less than three times, and that had been before her date with Ethan even started. She sat at home staring into her Ben and Jerry's knowing full and well that Ethan's promise to call her would never happen. No man ever called when they said they would. It was probably some unwritten male law of the universe, or something.

Gorgeous hunky men never took an interest in her. The only men who found her charming were either gay or currently pursuing other women.

She glanced down at her cat and made a face. "What's wrong with me Chipmunk? I'm a relatively attractive single professional woman. I don't smell, have bad breath or scratch in improper places. Tell me the truth," she said as she stared into the cat's bright eyes. "Do I have a sign on me that says ‘BEWARE! DANGEROUS COMMITMENT AHEAD?'"

Angela shook her head and sighed heavily. "Maybe I should enter a convent. At least I know God wouldn't reject me." She jammed an Oreo cookie into the quickly melting chocolate ice cream and scooped up some of its velvety goodness. She looked at the sugary confection and sighed again. "Not as good as mind-blowing sex, but it will just have to do."

***

Ethan Fairchild's date with suspect number one was less than enthralling. It wasn't that Angela Hastings wasn't captivating. She certainly was in that quirky, accident-prone, endearing way she had. But she wasn't his rogue agent. He knew that almost from the beginning, and he wondered why Gia even suspected her. No one could be that clueless on purpose.

He knew Angela was waiting for a second invitation, but Ethan had a mission to attend to.

After he dropped her off at her apartment, Ethan made himself comfortable in a bar called the Rathskeller. A bar known for its television personalities. He wasn't quite ready to turn in for the night and thus far he had had a hard time getting in touch with his controller, Jeffrey.

***

A knock at the door came unexpected. Angela had only eaten a quarter of the pint of ice cream and she wasn't yet halfway contented or comforted.

"Go away!" she grumbled. "I'm not quite depressed enough yet."

The knocking didn't stop, it only persisted. "I know you're in there, Angela. Your car is out front."

She recognized the voice immediately, but that didn't mean she had to let him in. Angela had to be the only woman in the known universe who would turn down attention from the world's hottest actor.

"That shows what you know," she shouted back. "That car isn't even mine."

Chance Michaels shifted from foot to foot. He was used to attention from his female following but there was something eerie about Angela's neighbor who leered at him from across the street.

"Come on, Angela! Cut a guy a break. That old lady is eyeing me again."

Angela marched over and thrust open the door. "Don't even bother to say it," she said, waving a spoon filled with ice cream at him.

"Date with the mystery man didn't go quite as planned, I take it?" Chance pushed past her and walked into the multi-level house. The neighbors weren't as surprised to see him as they used to be. But the grand motherly woman across the way still brought out her binoculars every time Chance was visiting.

"So, what brings you to my humble abode? Come to gloat about your fab sex life with Miss Rachel?"

"Rachel and I only have a sex life in my dreams."

Angela tried not to chuckle but she found both their situations amazingly funny. Chance couldn't score with the woman he wanted and Angela didn't have a chance in hell with Ethan.

Chance hooked a questioning eyebrow upward.

"I don't find this even a little bit funny."

Angela handed him the remaining ice cream and plopped down on the sofa. "We're both such losers."

***

Ethan fingered the signet ring on his right hand. He had worn it since his employment at the Legacy. Maybe even before. It was a gift from his father.

Now, suddenly, the skin around where the ring touched was red and irritated. Ever since he'd been exposed to those damn nanites, his life had been hell.

He couldn't sleep more than a few hours a night. His hearing had sharpened as had his eye sight. But that didn't make up for the nightmares. Whatever those little mini machines were doing in his blood, they were damn well wreaking havoc. But the nightmares were the worst part. In the nightmares he watched helplessly as his body didn't respond to his inner commands. Innocent people died, and he betrayed every moral value he possessed. A few more nights of this and he knew he would certainly go insane.

Lee Myers, the man who saved his life only months ago, had made arrangements for him to take his ATP energy treatments in Hollywood while he was on assignment. It surprised him that the movie capital of the world would have such devices. From the way Myers talked, ATP energy was pretty hard to come by. He was looking forward to the day when the treatments ended and the nightmares disappeared as magically as they had started.

The bar he had retired to was dark and smoky and filled with disreputable men and woman. Just the way he liked them. It reminded him of the Wolf's Den in a very Burbank sort of way. Maybe tonight he could find some sexual distraction to keep sleep from claiming him. Tonight, he didn't want to sleep. He didn't want to feel. He just wanted a hot and willing body under him to keep him occupied for a few hours.

Ethan knew what hell was. Hell was a place where you never slept and where the only sounds were the screams of tortured victims. He'd been hearing the screams and seeing the tormented in his mind's eye. And he couldn't wipe the images away.

A woman approached him, exactly the type of prospect he was looking for. She shimmied up to the bar barely wearing a red dress that matched her hair. Her eyes slowly scanned the crowd as if she was looking for someone. An easy smile spread across his face. He could be anyone she wanted him to be. Anyone at all.

Her eyes landed on him taking in his disheveled hair that now was almost too long. It curled up just above his shoulders. His feet were covered in snake skin boots and his legs packed into a pair of slim-fitting 501 Blues. Aside from the 5 o'clock shadow and the hair, he was perfectly presentable. Her long perusal of him seemed to say she was in agreement with his conclusions.

Her auburn hair gleamed, and from a distance, for a split-second, the woman almost looked like Gia, only this lady looked like Gia with a soul. But he wasn't kidding himself. There was no one else like the ice woman.

Ethan was so entranced by the woman's obvious charms, he failed to notice when the real Gia Doyle walked into the very same establishment. She pushed by the auburn haired lady and headed straight for Ethan. Her back was ram rod straight and her eyes spit fire. She was angry. What else was new?

"What happened to the body?" Gia spit at him.

"Nice to see you too, boss lady."

Gia leaned down and blew a puff of smoke into his face from the cigarette that must have been surgically implanted in her hand. He never saw her without one. Her voice lowered but the venom was still evident. "Don't play with me, Fairchild. Where is the body?"

"Body?" Ethan tried not to smile, but he actually didn't know which body she was referring to.

"The guy from the television show that you found on the set a few days back. That body."

Finally, the picture became clearer. Even through his sleep deprived brain he could remember what happened to Carter Wayne.

"You're asking me? As far as I know the clean up team took him away. Since when are you so concerned about someone like Carter Wayne? I've heard you call such nuisances trash."

"This nuisance is a different animal all together. We need him back."

Ethan eyed Gia suspiciously. Back? They needed Carter Wayne back? What in the hell was really going on here?

Her eyes darkened and turned icy. She had a spooky way of almost reading his mind sometimes. Today was no different.

"I'm just checking every detail. We need to make certain Carter Wayne isn't the rogue spy."

Ethan watched her walk away, thrusting people out of her way as she went by. He had a feeling there was more to Carter Wayne than anyone was telling him.

***

Back at Legacy Headquarters.

"We have a problem."

Philip Lancaster was surprised to hear the stodgy old voice address him. It had been a very long time since one of the High Council contacted him directly.

"I did as you instructed, sir." Philip said, trying like hell to maintain a subtle calm he wasn't feeling. "I had Franklin Fairchild jailed and placed in the Legacy dungeon."

"Apparently, Lancaster, that wasn't adequate enough. Another Fairchild has become a security risk." Philip's eyes grew wide. He knew the implications of what Bishop was saying. "Either the signet ring we gave him is defective or the nanites coursing through his blood has disrupted the ring's effectiveness."

"What do you want me to do, sir? I mean, Mr. Bishop."

"I want you to deal with our problem. If he starts remembering his alternate assignments, the Legacy's very identity could be in jeopardy. Either repair the ring or –"

"Kill him?" Philip added with a gulp.

"You catch on quickly, Lancaster."

"But Mr. Bishop, he's our best agent... He's done so much for us..." Philip wasn't looking forward to trying to kill the best of the best. He knew it could pose a big problem.

"You do understand me, don't you, Lancaster? If he becomes a glitch to the very success of our organization, terminate him! That is an order."

"Yes, Mr. Bishop. As you wish, sir."

Philip returned the receiver to its cradle, his hand visibly shaking. God, he couldn't believe it. Kill Ethan Fairchild? Ethan had been their best assassin, even if he didn't remember the true nature of his assignments.

Philip's voice quivered with emotion as he called for Bobbie Sullivan. Bobbie had quickly taken over for Jeffrey Sogard after the young controller's sudden death a few weeks back.

"Get me Dr. Lee Myers on the tele. Then find a way to contact Solitaire. We might have one more freelance assignment for her."

Bobbie nodded. "Yes, sir. Right away, sir."

It was the dawn of a new day at the Legacy. Why did Philip feel like it was the beginning of the end?

***

Franklin Fairchild couldn't believe he had allowed it to go on for so long. That they all had allowed it. The Legacy might have been ultimately responsible for the deeds, but he and Harry and Nathan had let them do it. In the beginning, over thirty-six years ago now, it seemed like such a far-fetched notion. A strange dream. Create the perfect mercenary. The perfect operative.

The perfect assassin was someone who didn't know they were an assassin.

At first, he had done it because it was his job. Later, he had justified staying because they needed members of the resistance inside the Legacy. He knew it might take years to bring them (the High Council) down, and the sacrifices would be worth it. But somehow all those children's lives had gotten lost in the shuffle.

Just one more day, he would think. One more day and then it would all be over. But for the Lost Children, it was never over. One more day for them meant more long hours of treatments, mind-therapy and weapons training. Things they would never remember once they reached home. But things they could recall once programmed to do so.

For years it had terrified him that someone could take over their minds without their permission. He would look across the dinner table at Ethan, Ian, Kevin and Faith's innocent faces and wonder if today was the day one of them would rise up, aim a gun at him and kill him as he ate dessert.

It was a horrible way to live – wondering if your next meal was your last. He regarded the steel bars of his cell and knew sooner or later he would be terminated. The only thing he wondered now was – why had they kept him alive so long?

***

Back in Hollywood

"So tell me about this hunka hunka burning love who dumped you tonight."

Angela blushed and turned her head away from Chance. "What's to tell? I met him on the train. He seemed nice. But he blew me off. He practically left the restaurant before I was even finished eating. I mean, right after I..." Angela stopped. She didn't know if she wanted to tell him the embarrassing parts of the ruined date.

"Let me guess. You went to that new Italian restaurant? The one with the awkward steps that shoot down unexpectedly?"

"How did you..." This time Angela did blush. Chance knew what a klutz she was, but she didn't like reminding him, or herself.

"Fell flat on your face, did you?" Chance tried to hold in his chuckle.

"More like fell flat on my butt and spit my new dress up the seam. I'm surprised Ethan even came over and admitted I was his date."

Chance's expression grew concerned.

"Ethan? That was your date's name?"

Angela looked at Chance quizzically. "Yeah, Ethan Fairchild. He mentioned he knew you when you were kids. He even told me this funny story about his brother, Kevin, and your sister, Sabrina."

Chance stood, knocking over a few of the handmade journals Angela was fond of creating.

"I have to go, but whatever you do, don't let Ethan in here. If he comes by and tries to let himself in, call the police."

He ran to the door opening it with a jerk. He could tell Angela wasn't taking him seriously.

"I'm not kidding, Angela. Ethan is a dangerous man. Don't ever let him near you again."

Angela had never seen Chance so agitated. He was indeed deathly serious.

"Okay, okay. I'll call the police. I will."

Chance then left in a rush. She wondered what Ethan had done to make her friend so concerned. Well, it didn't matter anyway. It wasn't like the date went well. Maybe all those accidental prat falls were a good omen. But the thoughts rushing through her head didn't make her worry any less. She just hoped the man stayed away.

***

Solitaire brushed a stray auburn hair behind her ear and listened on her cell phone as an image was transmitted to her PDA device. The man's photo was familiar. She glanced over her shoulder to the man she had been eyeing earlier with the snake skin boots and the chocolate eyes. It was too bad. It was just too bad. He matched the description of her new assignment. She sighed.

But that didn't mean she couldn't have a little fun with him first.

Ethan was on his third tequila and having a wonderful time when all activity at the bar ceased. The woman in the barely there red dress was provocatively dancing. All the men in her general vicinity had their mouths hanging open. He didn't know what in the hell she was doing, but he had a game of pool only half finished. Pool was the only game Kevin consistently beat him at. While he was here, he planned to brush up on his technique and show the little squirt that big brothers always win.

He was angling to sink his last stripe when someone picked up his cue ball off the table. It was the woman with the dress. She was tall with straight hair down to her shoulders and a body to die for. At first glance, as before, she reminded him of Gia, but upon closer inspection, he discovered this woman definitely knew how to smile.

"Hi ya, handsome," she said in a slow seductive voice. "Wanna play?"

Ethan gulped then smiled. Maybe he was going to get some sexual satisfaction after all.