Good food, relaxing wine and entertaining banter made for a beautiful evening. Watching as the conversation slowed and each turned to internal thoughts, Breanna gauged it was a good time to revert to the business of survival.

"Is this a good time to update each other on where we stand?" Breanna spoke into the silence.

Jesse nodded, "We have an ETA on the equipment. We thought it better to be brought through the tunnels," he glanced at Reilly, who continued.

"We're expecting the bulk to arrive tomorrow morning," Reilly said, "the rest will be divided up into manageable sizes and delivered during the next few days."

"Sounds promising," Breanna nodded, "did you get any info on the security items we'll need for the two houses?"

"Yes," Jesse nodded, "everything will be arriving with the equipment. I have a feeling the house is being watched, and we don't need to tip off anyone to what is happening."

"Wise choice in using the tunnels," Breanna nodded, "at least security will be taken care of sooner than later. Valencia? Clio?

"The basement kitchen has been scrubbed and has very little," Valencia sighed heavily, "we had to toss everything. Clio and I will go shopping for a full inventory tomorrow. We decided to start with five of each. We can add as we grow."

"The large room with the mattress was a mess," Clio said quietly, "it is cleaned; there is a hardwood floor under all that mess and sand. We cleaned it down as best we could, but it will require more attention."

"We'll get to that as we have time," Breanna nodded, "Val, what is this five of everything?"

Valencia glanced at Clio before answering, "Cultery and crocker, eating utensils ... that kind of thing."

"Right. Make a list of things that requires more attention than can be given in the next few days," Breanna nodded, "we'll work on each as soon as we can."

"We will need to look at restocking food-wise," Clio continued, "there were some empty boxes of sorts in a cupboard we cleaned and some ration packs, which expired some years ago."

"Did you throw them out?" Breanna asked.

"You bet we did," Valencia chuckled, "the ration packs gave me an idea to have a "newcomers" pack for each person who arrives here. Nothing extravagant, just the basics. Something they know is their own."

"I like what you have in mind," Breanna nodded, "tonight, I think we need to sleep and start again tomorrow."

"What's the word the delivery?" a tall, wide-shouldered, muscular man walked into the logistics room of the underground bunker.

Large wooden boxes were packed neatly in a corner with a few crates containing smaller equipment.

"Jesse's list is nearly finished," an officer stood, indicating the stacked crates and saluting the arrival, "Sir, there are a few concerns, though." "Such as?"

"Why the state of the art electrical grid? What is he keeping in these places?" the officer frowned. "Then there is the newest technology in biometric reading machines, never mind all this surveillance equipment. Why does everything need to be pyro proof?"

"Your concerns are noted," the commanding officer nodded. "It's not what he is keeping in those places," he said, signing a document on the clipboard handed to him, "it's what he will be keeping out. The pyro stuff is a precaution. Security is always necessary."

"Is he keeping Bigfoot out, General?" the officer asked, worry bleeding into his expression.

"No," the General turned, chuckling before meeting the officer's eyes, "Darcia and her goons."

"Darcia," the officer frowned, "she was decommissioned months ago."

"That is what we all thought," the General moved a little closer, "tell me … in all the missions against the crazies of this world, have you found one that sees decommissioning the end of their … reign?"

"No, Sir," the officer shook his head, "not one."

"Well, we need to stop her, and now," the General growled, "before she tortures anymore of our forces and if what I'm hearing is true, civilians."

"Sir," the officer cleared his throat, "did she take Clive?"

"Your brother?"

"Yes, Sir," the officer met and locked gazes with the General.

"We are still uncertain. Jesse is starting where no one else has before. He has what has been needed for so long. I have said he will be helped and supplied with whatever is needed to accomplish the needed end goal," the General muttered, "we fill out any list he sends through."

"Understood, Sir. What does he have, Sir?"

"Breanna."

The General acknowledged his name being called further down the bunker and moved away, leaving the officer staring after him.

"Breanna," the officer whispered, "she got out? Thought that was just a rumour."

Sunrise filtered through the lace curtain over the window, dancing patterns against the wall as Breanna checked the stability of the surveillance camera she was mounting. Everyone had worked tirelessly in the past forty-eight hours, turning what should have been a day into a very long stretch in time. Satisfied that the camera was stable and able to move. Breanna checked the laptop being used to synchronise all the security cameras. Everything seemed to be working. It felt good knowing she had completed putting up security cameras on the ground level of both houses.

Breanna clicked to a multi-camera function. Rechecking each camera taking in the area it was meant to, Breanna still felt surprised that she knew how to do this task. Memories of what was meant to happen and how it was meant to happen. Remembering the training or where she trained for this work eluded her. Would her memory ever come back? Had Darcia destroyed any recollection of her past?

Haunted at the possibility of permanent memory loss, Breanna stretched her stiff muscles, groaning. Rest was needed before tackling the basement, but first, she needed to check on the others and their tasks.

Breanna heard clattering in the kitchen; stopping in the doorway, she watched Valencia make filter coffee. Breanna shook her head. In a short time of knowing Valencia, Breanna couldn't remember anyone more clumsy, accident-prone or golden-hearted.

"Do you need help?" Breanna moved forward, grinning at the flustered woman scooping spilt coffee grounds into the filter from the counter.

"Ah," Valencia looked up, blushing, "I promise I've made coffee before."

"You seem to have a problem with grace and ease of doing tasks," Breanna chuckled.

Gently scooping grinds onto a plate while Valencia finished preparing the machine to filter.

"You noticed," Valencia sighed, "I was hoping no one would notice my clumsiness."

"Really?"

"My brother was never kind about my inadequate grace," Valencia mumbled, "I find I'm a little self-conscious."

"What may be viewed as a failure by others may one day be the victory that saves the world," Breanna smiled, "believe in yourself and every aspect of who you are."

"Is that a quote from somewhere?" Valencia cocked her head to the right.

"My Dad," Breanna spoke quietly, "he used to sprout things like that all the time."

"Sounds like a wise man," Valencia murmured, "coffee?"

"Yes," Breanna shook her head a little, clearing her mind, "that would be great."

"I've already asked Jesse and Reilly," Valencia supplied, "they are downstairs with Clio finishing up and then the security cameras can be installed."

"Brilliant," Breanna sighed, sinking into a chair at the table.

"You okay?" Valencia asked, sitting in the chair next to Breanna.

"Sure," Breanna said, rolling her shoulders, "just a little tired, sore and aching to have a swim in the ocean."

"We can have a break," Valencia said quietly, "we'll need to let the basement air a little after everything that has been happening down there."

"I suppose we can have a break. It has been a long few days," Breanna nodded, smiling at Valencia, "how are you doing?"

"I'm okay," Valencia said, her eyes sliding away from Breanna's watchful gaze.

"Val? What's the problem?" Breanna gentle laid her hand on Valencia's arm. Valencia gasped, sliding back in her chair.

"Okay," Breanna murmured, "you have touch issues. I didn't mean to trigger anything."

Breanna watched the other woman, her glazed eyes darting everywhere, her breathing shallow and fast, her hands fisted, jaws clenched.

Standing, Breanna poured the coffee, placing the cup in front of Valencia, "Coffee?"

Valencia's gaze locked on the coffee cup, breathing in deeply, her blinking slowed, "Thank you."

Jesse, Reilly and Clio appeared at the top of the stairs, "Told you I could smell coffee," Clio muttered.

"We all can smell the coffee," Reilly muttered, "I said that it was ready."

"What's going on?" Jesse asked, noting the tension and glancing between Valencia and Breanna.

"We're having coffee," Breanna said, "Val has made excellent coffee."

"You touched her," Jesse sighed as he sat next to Breanna, "on purpose?"

"Yes, on purpose," Breanna said, "it would have been avoided if I knew."

"Knew what?" Clio asked.

Breanna glanced at Valencia, just catching the slight shake of her head.

"That Valencia makes such amazing coffee; it's going to be her task every day from now."

Valencia sighed and began to relax.

"She does make excellent coffee," Reilly said, sipping at his cup, "how goes the security?"

"Bottom floor for both houses is complete," Breanna nodded, "I'll attend to the top floors and basement as soon as I have had some sleep."

"Supplies and food for the basement are packed away," Clio said, "we finished the cleanup and storage a little while ago."

"Equipment is in. We need to complete the calibration, and we'll be up and running," Jesse said, watching Valencia over the rim of his coffee cup, "a toast. To the completion of the past and the beginning of the rest of our lives."

Jesse raised his cup in salute. The others followed. Valencia belatedly raised her cup and joined in before sipping at the rim.

Breanna sat with Valencia long after the others had moved on to other tasks. Waiting in silence until Valencia felt comfortable to talk. Time ticked by, Breanna thought she would be sitting staring at an empty coffee cup until the next dawn. If waiting that long would help Valencia feel secure, she would wait.

"Thank you," the whispered words sprinkled on the air.

"For what?" Breanna murmured.

"Not telling them," the words shivered on the air, "for sitting here to make sure I'm okay. For realising that Jesse knew about it and not kicking his butt for not telling you."

A smile tugged at both their lips at the last comment, "That was a little difficult, but I restrained myself."

"Usually, I see it coming and adjust," Valencia shook her head, "you were genuinely caring, and I didn't expect the touch or concern."

"What happens?" Breanna asked.

"Flashbacks mainly, but also the feeling of confinement, mauling and on occasion pain."

"Valencia," Breanna shook her head, "I'm so, so sorry."

Valencia shrugged, "What can I say? I have baggage like everyone else."

"Did you have ideas of grandeur?" Breanna teased, "you know you don't have the monopoly on baggage."

Valencia grinned, "Guess I don't. You're not mad?"

"Mad?"

"Angry may be a better word," Valencia said.

"Hell no," Breanna shook her head, leaning back in her chair, "just happy you're breathing, and we can deal with the drama together. Besides, it was my turn to see you be weird."

"Weird?" Valencia laughed out loud, the sound bubbling from deep within, "guess I'm part of the crew."

"Yes, you are," Breanna chuckled, "ready for bed?"

"Yeah," Valencia nodded, "I'm ready for bed."

Valencia and Breanna walked through the dark, quiet house to find their own much-needed rest.

"Sleep tight," Breanna whispered into the dark as she nestled under the covers, "see you when the morning arrives."

The whisper of a memory fluttered in the back of her mind. Closing her eyes, she sighed and welcomed the dark oblivion of rest.

"When will we be moving against my sister?" Darcia asked, watching her new super soldiers train.

"Probably in two or three days," the overseeing fanatic said, "we push them harder every day."

"Do they exercise their abilities?" her cold gaze scanned over the arena.

"Only those who are allowed," the fanatic glanced at her, "and always against each other."

"Good," she murmured, "any injuries … have them re-programmed."

"Certainly," his attention returned to the arena as she walked away.

"Wonder what would happen if they chose to use their abilities against her," one of the guards murmured.

"It has been tried," the trainer said, "why do you think that no one has a choice while under her care."

In the shadows, a tall figure watched the arena unnoticed. The shortened necklace became uncomfortable while looking for signs of anyone who would prefer to be anywhere else but where they were. Absently tugging at the chain, trying for a little more comfort.

"General," an officer called, knocking on the door, "Jesse is here to see you."

"Thank you," the General said, continuing to write, "come in."

"Good to see you, General," Jesse strode in, shaking the General's extended hand, "if I interrupted anything by dropping in, I do apologise."

"Didn't interrupt a thing," the General indicated a chair in front of the desk, "the equipment arrive on time? Did everything requested come through?"

"Everything arrived and is working," reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a clear plastic bag, "just wanted to return these to you."

Frowning, the General took the bag, "What is that?"

"Homing devices," Jesse said, looking directly at the General, "if you didn't plant them, then Darcia has someone planted in your unit."

"Are these active?" the General looked at Jesse.

"No, I found them at the collection point where deactivation happened and long before the installation went online," Jesse said. "I'm guessing they were supposed to activate when everything was switched on."

"This is not even our technology," the General frowned, "how do we know Darcia has someone inside who follows her commands."

Jesse pulled out his phone, pulling up a photo, "See anything like this?"

"We don't have jewellery hanging outside of uniforms," the General smirked, "plus when training, things hanging around the neck need to be taken off."

"There is the difference," Jesse nodded, "this type of necklace can never be taken off. If it is, a glass of water is required to deactivate it."

"That is a little harsh," the General frowned, "may I ask why?"

"Deactivating the necklace is the only guarantee you have the real person back," Jesse said, "I also wanted to ask about Porto Seguro. You said it was still available."

"It is," the General nodded, moving around his desk and closing the door, "did you know someone was listening to everything you've been saying?"

"Yes," Jesse nodded, "did you see his face?"

"I did," the General nodded, "you still got it, Jesse. Never lost your strategic angle," the General shook his head. "Porto Seguro is still standing vacant. If you need to "rent" it, it is all yours."

"How do I let you know when I'll be moving in?" Jesse watched the General.

Silently he reached for a piece of paper wrote something on it before sliding it across the desk to Jesse.

Jesse slid the block of paper into his hand. The slanted scrawl displayed a four-digit code and the message, "Type this into the alarm panel."

Jesse rose, extending his hand across the desk, "Thank you for seeing me, General."

Grasping Jesse's hand, "Thank you, Jesse," he smiled briefly, "watch your six."

Nodding, Jesse turned, opened the door and left the office. The hairs on the back of his neck, down his arms and across the backs of his hands rose. Pausing at the corner of the passage and looking back the way he had come, Jesse noticed a tall figure in the shadows a little way from the General's door. A penetrating gaze watched Jesse as he left.