He'd been activated. Ethan Fairchild had been activated!

Dr. Octavia Kassoff couldn't contemplate how it was possible. Ethan was under her total control. Only she knew the code word to activate him. She held all the power. But as she followed him through the infirmary corridors, she knew that something was definitely wrong.

She should be happy. This was her creation and she had longed for the day she saw the AI in action, but she'd never though she wouldn't be able to control it or him. Octavia felt for the remote control in her pocket. She had brought it in case of emergencies, but now it would have to be enough to stop him.

Through the haze of consciousness, Ethan was aware of a misty veil clouding his vision. He knew his legs were moving but he had no idea of where he was or why. He wanted to stop. Had to stop. It was foolish to go on this way. He couldn't see or hear anything.

The grayness that surrounded him was almost ethereal, made of a substance created in dreams.

But this was no dream.

He knew he was moving. He could feel the steel of the gun clutched firmly in his right hand. He could sense the power rushing through him like a coil of pure energy, but the sensation was far away – too far away from him to control. He wanted to scream. He didn't like being out of control. In fact, he hated it.

Only once had he been out of control. With her. With Michela. As soon as he had given his heart to her, she changed. And not for the better. At times, it almost seemed like she was another woman. Like a stranger inhabited her body. A stranger that had her beautiful face, hands, skin.

The mere thought of her made him hard. His loins ached, and he cursed himself. How could he need her so much and hate her at the same time?

For a minute, through the misty grayness, he swore he could see her face clearly in front of him. But her expression wasn't one of love or even caring. Her eyes were wide in pure unadulterated terror.

It had seemed like ages since she'd seen him. Ethan was and always would be the definition of male in her mind. Michela Forsythe unconsciously sighed.

His hard body created by ruthlessly long hours of exercise and work shimmered with a gleam of sweat. Droplets beaded on his forehead. If she didn't know better, she would guess he had a fever, but he seemed anything but sick. The glare he darted forth punched her in the solar plexis causing her to stumble backward. She had never seen that level of hate in his eyes before. If she didn't know better, she'd guess he was angry enough to kill.

It was only instinct, but she knew something was wrong. Somehow, this wasn't Ethan. He wasn't like this. So the theory that something wasn't quite right kept nagging at her.

He didn't speak as he strode toward her. There was a determination in his step. As he came closer, he didn't embrace her. He brought the gun which was clutched tightly in his right hand up to her brow and pressed it forcefully into her skull.

Her breath caught. He was going to kill her!

This definitely was not Ethan. Ian. Maybe it was Ian. Her mind clawed at any answer to Ethan's actions. She knew what she had done to him was unforgivable but he would never want her dead.

As she stared into the brown depths of his soul, she didn't find what she expected. His eyes weren't warm and welcoming. They were hard and cruel. She could see the disgust painted on his chiseled features. It was an expression she never thought she'd see on his face. Not that he had reason to want her lately. He had made it painfully obvious that she no longer belonged in his world. But even now and again, she could see the hesitation in his decision to abandon her. His dark brown eyes would catch as if for a moment reconsidering. Then it would be gone again.

But this was different. So unlike Ethan she could barely believe it was him standing there. She grappled to see the red birthmark stain on his wrist, but found nothing. This was definitely Ethan.

"What are you doing?" she asked, finally finding her voice.

He didn't speak. He only pressed the gun to her temple even harder.

Then there was a hesitation. A slight one, but it was there. Something inside him was questioning his decision to kill her. And she prayed for that force to take him over leaving her alive.

His eyes once again darkened to the passion of hatred. He had regained his control.

She thought for sure she would see her life rush in scenes before her eyes. After all, wasn't that what was supposed to happen before you died? But nothing came to her. Nothing tugged at her soul as if mattering to her. Even the image of her father, brothers and sister felt cool in her brain. Too cool. Almost as if, they didn't matter to her. That they weren't really a part of her life.

A single tear slipped down her face. Maybe this was what she deserved. She had betrayed him. Used him for her own means, and now – now she was going to pay the price.

"Get it over with," she growled, as a second tear fell dripping onto her chest. "You have the right."

Faith Fairchild gulped down a strangled cry as she barreled down the halls of Legacy Headquarters. She shouldn't be there, wasn't supposed to be there. But she had to find Kevin. She knew he could fix this - explain what had happened – how she didn't mean to kill Gia.

She shouted his name as she skirted around corner after corner. He had to be here. He just had to.

Through the stream of tears, she could barely see where she was going. Her legs threatened to fall out from under her and would have if agent Jonah Sogard hadn't turned the bend at that exact moment. She found herself flattened against a wall of hard, corded muscle.

Jonah heard the footfalls and expected someone to come barreling past, but he wasn't expecting it to come in such a pretty package.

"Whoa honey, where's the fire?"

Lightening.

That was the sensation as flesh met flesh, as her body pressed into his and then the contact was gone. His hands clutched her shoulders steadying her and forcing her to stop running. There was nothing sexual about the way he was holding her immobile, but his body started to react at the first touch of her soft heaving shoulders.

A sob caught in her throat and the pain evident in it twisted Jonah's heart.

He looked down into her face and finally realized who she was. A Fairchild. He'd seen her picture many times, heard about her from different sources. The Legacy grapevine was ripe with thoughts of who would capture the young girl's heart. But the biggest source of Faith gossip came from his own brother, Jeffrey, the consummate computer nerd. He talked about her with a awe that said he was halfway in love with her. Jonah wondered if Faith knew she had such a loyal following.

Her cries and soft moans brought him back to the situation at hand.

"Let me go," she screamed, struggling against his iron grip. "I have to find Kevin."

Her body shuttered and swooned. Before she met an untimely impact with the linoleum, he scooped her up into his arms. She was on the verge of fainting. He could see the signs. Shock and exhaustion.

Her head rested on his shoulder finding comfort there. Jonah sighed knowing the feel of her in his arms was way too comfortable for his liking. He preferred to keep things at a distance where he could control them. Faith was all up front and personal and had gotten under his skin before he could blink.

"I'll get you to your brother," he said softly. He brushed his cheek against her hair and her sobs suddenly quieted. She had succumbed to the exhaustion. The tension in her body waned.

"The sooner I get you away from me the better." He knew he could get used to holding her like this. "You're a distraction I just don't need right now."

But God knew the truth that sat on his heart. He'd been alone too long. He'd kept women at arms length for too long. Something in him craved for her to break his downward spiral. God help him, but he wanted little Faith to be a distraction. A full fledged blown up distraction. No matter how much he tried to deny it, he found himself wanting her lying under him writhing like a hot filly in his bed.

The sudden image of her in his bed shocked him.

What was he thinking? It didn't matter that her touch had sent his system into overdrive like no other woman's ever had. It didn't matter that he suddenly felt a tingling need to kiss her – a virtual stranger!

He took a deep cleansing breath and tried to assess the situation. She needed her brother, and he knew where her brother was. It was simple. He would just deliver her there and walk away. He couldn't get involved with her, not now.

Jonah knew Kevin had been locked up in the bowels of Legacy Headquarters where they kept the agents turned traitor. But Kevin wasn't a traitor. Jonah knew that for a fact. He didn't need witnesses to tell him that. Kevin was a good man, a good agent. He knew this in a way no one else could. Kevin had saved his life, more than once. Jonah owed him.

He knew what he had to do. He would bring the kid to her brother and walk away. He knew he wouldn't be any good for her. So he would save her the trouble of getting to know him.

Kevin Fairchild stared up focusing his eyes on one dark corner. He would count the tiles but it wasn't that type of ceiling. It was mostly crumbling black gook. He sat up and brushed a hand through his thick brown hair. The liquor he had consumed was wearing off and the comforts he first thought the cell had provided faded from his mind. Now all he could see was the sagging mattress, dripping sounds, and the smell of musty dark spaces. It wasn't a place he wanted to remain in for long.

The jingle of keys brought his attention to the door. After a mumble of words, the guard returned to his post leaving the visitor alone. He wondered who it could be. He hadn't been able to contact anyone since his imprisonment.

A man with long dark hair strode through the door. It was Jonah Sogard and he was carrying something that looked strangely like his sister.

It was his sister! What in the hell was wrong with her? He bounded to the bars for a closer look.

"What in the hell is going on?" Kevin shouted, staring intently at his sister's limp body.

Jonah placed her on a bench opposite Kevin's cell and laid her head carefully on the hard surface.

"I may be wrong, but isn't that my line?" Jonah smirked then paused glancing at Faith's sleeping form. "I found her running down the halls screaming for you. She was desperate. And exhausted. She fainted before I could find out anything. All I know is, she was scared as hell."

Kevin rattle the cell bars. "Dammit! I knew something like this might happen."

"Care to enlighten me? No offense but, I don't usually step into family messes."

"And this is one big family mess. Huge! It's Ian. He's back and as obsessed as ever. I thought maybe he had focused on Gia but..." Kevin lost his train of thought as he stared at his sister.

The dark man rustled something at his side. "Oh, before I forget. Boswell said you would be needing this."

Kevin hadn't noticed but over Jonah's shoulder was a small black satchel. He handed it through the bars to Kevin.

"What is it?" he said, pulling the small computer out of the bag.

"Laptop. Boswell thought you might want to find out who was setting you up." Kevin's confusion was obvious as was his second piercing stare. "Don't worry. I cleared it with Lancaster. Even though he hates you, he knows you wouldn't really try to kill the ice bitch."

Kevin felt the curtain of the drunken stupor melting away. A massive headache replaced what the absence of liquor revealed.

Suddenly, it sounded like all hell was breaking loose. Sirens wailed and sensors beeped. A computerized voice shouted the warning as if by rote. The on duty guard ran into the cell block with a look of shock on his face. "It's Ian. Ian Fairchild. He's breeched security!"

Kevin was on his feet again in less than one heartbeat. "That bastard. He's after her."

Jonah gave him a quizzical look.

Images and ideas flashed through Kevin's mind at lightening speed. "Before today had you ever met Faith?"

"No, never. What does that have–"

"Did anyone other than the on duty guard see you come down her with her?"

"I don't think so. The office is pretty bare at this time of n--."

Kevin pressed his hands through the bars and grabbed Jonah's arm dragging him closer. "You have to do something for me. Something big."

Jonah didn't hesitate. "Whatever. You know I owe you."

"Then get her out of here. Take her some place safe. Some place as far away from here as possible. If Ian gets a hold of her, this time she'll be dead. I know it. I don't want that to happen with me stuck behind these bars."

"We have a family ca--"

"I don't want to know where you are!" Kevin stressed. "It's safer that way. Safer for Faith. Just get her there and keep her there. I'll arrange it with Boswell to let you know when Ian has been captured. Until then, you stay hidden. Check in with him every seventy-two hours. Now get out of here!"

"Kevin, you don't understand. She fainted almost as soon as she met me. When she wakes up she won't know me from Adam."

Kevin thought hard then pulled a necklace with a St. Jude's metal from around his throat. "Give this to her. There's an inscription on the back. She gave it to me. You show this, she'll know you're telling the truth. If that doesn't work, call in and let her talk to Boswell. He'll confirm everything."

Jonah nodded shoved the metal into his pocket.

"Now GO, before Ian finds you. Take the tunnels."

Kevin could only watch helplessly as his friend scooped up his sister and darted out the cell block door.

He could trust him to keep her safe. He would stake his life on it. But Ian was cagy. If anyone could track her down, it would be him. He knew that once Faith woke up there would be hell to pay, but Jonah could handle her. In the back of his mind, he hoped he hadn't signed a death warrant for the both of them.

Michela's eyes didn't waver as she commanded Ethan to kill her. "Go ahead. Do it!"

Octavia wasn't far away. She didn't know if she wanted to get in the middle of this feud, but Ethan wasn't himself since she had placed the AI in his brain. She had to do something.

Michela was Octavia's only true friend, someone she had, at one time, told all her secrets to. She desperately wanted that relationship to continue. It was the only real friendship she had.

The remote weighed heavy in her hand, and she leveled it at Ethan. One push of the button should do it, she thought. The device should shut the AI down leaving the real Ethan personality in tact.

She prayed for the best.

But her prayers weren't answered.

"Dammit!" she whispered from her hiding place behind the door.

She whacked the device against her hand a number of times hoping something inside would lodge back into place. She was a doctor not an electrician. The remote control had been Vargas' responsibility. If it didn't work in the next few minutes, there would be hell to pay.

As she fiddled with the device, she leaned onto the door. The resounding squeak took her aback. The barely audible noise must have registered in Ethan's brain because he turned toward her abandoning Michela.

Ethan stared at Octavia, his eyes dark and cold. His steely gaze sliced through her like a laser beam.

"Hey, big boy, why don't you take on someone your own size?" The comment was meant as sarcasm. Ethan was obviously superior in height.

She licked her lips, took a hand out of her pocket and raised the other one to protect her face. Hastily, she maneuvered into her fighting stance. Octavia chuckled a little to herself. It looked like Vargas' doubts about implanting the AI in Ethan had been unfounded. He was definitely a fighting machine. A fighting machine that was about to meet up with a very worthy opponent. Octavia settled back on her heels and prepared for a kick that would tell the Chameleon AI that she meant was a serious threat.

She vowed that Michela Forsythe would meet the big guy upstairs only over Octavia Kassoff's dead body.

Ethan lunged at Octavia, and she countered his move. She slipped away, knocking over a hospital tray. It clanged to the ground making a tinny metallic sound. She kicked out, using all the muscles in the side of her legs, striking him in the stomach. The impact was hard and true, but Ethan didn't flinch. Quickly, she came back with two punches to his shoulder and one to his nose.

Ethan grunted a little, then lunged forward again. This time Octavia met him full-force with a punch to his jaw that made his head snap back and a blood seep from the corner of his mouth.

Ethan shook his head, then came at her full-force. It was time to end this. Her fingers felt for the buttons on the small mechanism. She never had time to attempt to make the remote work a second time. Ethan's hand came up then down in a strong blow that sent a crack echoing through her skull. The last thing Octavia remembered was her body flying up against the wall. The impact very nearly broke her spine. As she slid down the wall, her fingers found their target and pressed down onto the remote. The blackness invaded as her body slumped to the floor.

Michela was in shock. Her body shook in spasms and her equilibrium was shot. She could only stare as Ethan stood over Octavia's body, looking down, then back at her. Michela shrunk into the corner of the room opposite the bed. His eyes faultered then fell from her face.

Something was different.

It was as if he was looking at her for the first time, saw the fear in her eyes, knew who she was. Ethan started towards her sidestepping Octavia's limp form.

"Stay the hell away from me," she croaked. Her voice quivered, and she chastised herself for succumbing to the fear.

Mike's voice was hoarse, guttural, and Ethan stopped halfway across the room. He was listening to her, obeying her. She couldn't get over the sudden transformation.

Then something crossed his face, and a strange look of horror crept onto it.

"I…I'm sorry." He muttered, "I…"

"Get out." Michela whispered. The words were softly spoken, but he understood them.

Without another word, Ethan turned and left the room. Michela curled up on the bed for what seemed forever. A strange paralysis gripped her as she stared across the room at the pile of blonde hair and velvet that lay in the corner. Finally, she rolled to the edge of the bed and tentatively put her foot onto the cold floor. Her legs felt weak, and she was worried that they wouldn't support her, but somehow she managed to get across the room.

Kneeling by Octavia's side, Mike felt for a pulse and was relieved to find one. She let out a thankful sigh and put her arms under Octavia's armpits. Michela struggled with the weight, but it was no use. In her present condition, she couldn't carry the load. She changed her strategy and fought to pull the woman up and prop her against the wall.

A tiny light twinkled and caught her eye from across the room. There was a glint of gold sparkling from under her bed somehow reflecting the flourescent lights. After she was sure Octavia was supported, Michela walked over to investigate and picked up the object. It was a ring. Old by the looks of it, with a crown and a heart. A claddagh ring. Turning it over in her hand, Michela guessed Ethan must have dropped it. It was his loss. The ring was hers now. She slipped it onto her hand, amazed that it fit so well.

Declan O'Connor didn't have to enter the room to know a skirmish had taken place. He surveyed the damage but was at Michela's side in a heartbeat. He could see the impression of the gun barrel on her temple. The skin hadn't quite snapped back into place yet leaving the tell-tale signs. He brushed his thumb across the tender, swollen skin.

"What the bloody hell happened here?"

Michela jumped at the sound of his voice. Until that moment, no one had uttered a word except for horse whispers. Turning around, she saw the man who had been her savior not so long ago, and was once again there to protect her.

"Dec." Michela smiled. "I think I have a bit of a mess here."

She attempted humor, but her body betrayed her shaking slightly with residual shockwaves of fear. Declan chose to ignore the tremors. He was a good man to do that for her. He was letting her be strong on her own. She was glad he was there because she desperately needed that, and him.

"No kidding." He said, looking around. "You okay?"

"As well as can be expected." As well as can be expected after having the man you love try to kill you. Ethan's face flashed before her superimposed over Declan's sharp Irish features. She flinched at the memory, and could still feel the cold metal of the gun as it pressed against her forehead.

"Want to help me clean up?" Michela forced a smile.

An orderly sauntered by her room and they both regarded him as he talked on a cellular phone. "We have a silent alarm going off in the building, but I'll be damned if I can find the two who broke into the infirmary. Is security sure they have their facts and figures straight?" He listened for a moment then spoke again. "All right. I'll keep looking. Knockout blonde and brooding Ken doll. Got it." The orderly snapped the cell phone closed and entered Michela's room.

"Everything all right in here folks?"

Declan stood between the orderly and Octavia's body shielding her from his sight.

"Fine," the Irish man said with a slight brogue to his voice.

"Okay, but if you see anything strange –" The man thumped his chest. "You call me."

"We'll be sure and do that." Declan tried not to smile, but the idea that this man, who looked as if he could barely mountain bike up a small hill, could protect trained Legacy agents was humorous.

He smiled at them both then walked on down the hallway offering his services to another unsuspecting infirmary patient.

"Looks like we're going to have to be rather sneaky to get Octavia out of this hospital."

Declan nodded and they set to work on their plan. He watched her from time to time knowing that the happy face she put on for him was all show. He suspected she really wanted to be alone so she could privately break down. He cursed the man who would do this to her. She had been through enough. And he would personally make sure she didn't have to go through any more.