Mistaken...

Feeling Victoria's breath on his cheek, Aaron stared into her eyes. He tensed, as a bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck. Only when she'd backed off did he breathe again, and cleared his throat. He wanted to retaliate. He wanted to step up and tell her off. But he wasn't that stupid. All he could do was get red in the face as she maintained the upper hand.

"Right. Collens instead of Harrison. Whatever you say." If it wasn't for Medridge's own orders, Aaron would take who he wanted. But he couldn't risk it.

Pushing off the wall, he headed for hi quarters. He had a lot to prepare and very little time.


Thirteen? Was this girls name really a number? All Garret's plans were falling to pieces because of this unexpected encounter. He'd wanted to get Carson alone. He'd wanted a chance to explain his presence before all hell broke loose, but it was quickly turning backward on him, and he didn't even know why. His instincts screamed at him to take action, and it took all he had to  stay put and remain calm. He could easily get away or even take out Carson and the girl both, but he couldn't. Not this time. This was a new game he had to learn now.

"Take it easy," Carson comforted Thirteen. "He's not taking you anywhere." He made sure he stood between her and Garret, his blood boiling at the thought of anyone harming Thirteen - before or now.

A guard? What? Garret's confusion grew.

"Is that why you came here?" Carson took a step closer to Garret, still aiming his shotgun. His voice rose with his temper. "Well? Is it?!"

"No!" Garret shook his head. "I came to see you. I don't know what she's talking about. I've never seen her in my..." His voice trails off as suddenly his mind's eye saw a much younger version of Thirteen. A messy ponytail. Agency scrubs. Pale, gaunt face. Eyes that had lost their shine. A young life raised by the Agency to know nothing other than the inside of their facility. Thirteen...a number. A name.

"Well??" Carson took another step. "You explain yourself, or so help me, they'll be cleaning your brains off the walls for weeks."

Garret swallowed hard but remained cool. He eyed the gun's barrel warily. "How about lowering that scattergun first?"

"Aerith!" Carson yelled. "Call Reese. Tell him to meet me at the office in half an hour and that I've got a prisoner. Then bring me the handcuffs that are in my room."

Garret sighed. "Really? Look, I just want to talk and -"

"Why. Are. You. Here?"

"I came to make a deal. Your help for mine. Plain and simple."

Carson's eyes narrowed. "And Thirteen?"

Garrett shook his head. "She must be mistaking me for someone else."