Event Horizon = When approaching a Black Hole in space, there is a Point of No Return. Pass beyond this line in space and you'll never escape the Black Hole.

Andy's 1.83m (6') tall well-built body showed the vastness of his experience by the visible scars peeping out from under his open shirt. His short blonde hair and piercing deep green eyes contrasted with Joe's slightly longer but shaggier brown hair and open hazel eyes. The 1.93m (6'4") man towered over his partner Andy, and amazingly exhibited no scars. It was evident from Andy's bearing that he was the leader of the ops forces, with Joe as his second in command.

Joe stopped walking, and grasped Andy's arm. "What do you mean we have to move him?"

"Orders from the boss," replied the second officer, turning to face his friend.

"But we just delivered him five days ago," said Joe, fed up. "What's going on?"

"I'll tell you what I know," whispered Alexandra Luthor's elite SOF officer, "but if you should repeat it to anyone, I'll disavow all knowledge of this conversation."

Andy turned to see if they were alone in the hallway while pulling Joe into the arch of the doorway. Leaning close he confided, "This whole Daniels kidnapping wasn't sanctioned by the CIA and..."

"But that's impossible! We saw those orders" interrupted Joe.

"Falsified," snapped Andy. "Alexandra informed her CIA director after we snatched Daniels. He was outraged and she coldly informed him of Daniels' value as a 'monkey in cage.' Operations agreed after a lengthy discussion with Alexandra and allowed the ops to continue. But that sentiment changed rapidly when John Maxwell had discredited her publicly."

Letting his eyes roam down the hallway, Andy continued, "Alexandra's hopping mad. She wants to know the identity of the traitor who released the photos of Lewis' incarceration." Andy sighed deeply. "I feel sorry for this person because he's going to regret the consequences of those actions. Maxwell's forced Alexandra's removal from the CIA and ordered Tom Daniels released." Laughing mirthlessly he explained, "Of course, she would rather die than release him. So, we're to move him again and she's on the warpath to draw and quarter this traitor."

"Figures," replied Joe, disgusted at this latest turn of events. "This ops is typical of Alexandra." Leaning against the doorframe, he started tapping his feet quietly against the wall. "So now what? I really believe that she's correct in her assumptions for our defense and offense against the Homo dominants. But if we take sides with her, we'll be considered traitors as well."

"Yes, you're correct," responded Andy. "But, what's the lesser of two evils? The continued existence of our species or our oaths to the CIA, the President, and our honor?"

Joe's face mirrored the horror of those two thoughts for a few undecided seconds. Slamming his fist against the wall, he capitulated and answered, "Our species of course." Sighing deeply he suggested, "Let's go prepare the 'monkey' in his cage."

Leaving the doorway, they walked down the hall, determination marking their tall muscular frames.

The spotlight, brightly illuminated the current occupant, Tom Daniels, who barely fit these so-called accommodations because the cramped box was too small for a fully-grown man to stretch out in.

This bothered the guards because they recognized Daniels' cage as a POW's punishment box. They knew these conditions forced men to total exhaustion and extreme pliability. It's guaranteed to break the spirit of a man within a week, ensuring complete obedience.

Within the past year, they had observed this very effective interrogation technique on chameleons often enough. They noted that constant light causes visual overloads for a man with heightened senses, and in this case, a sixth sense of empathy. Moreover, sleep's virtually impossible with 24-hour illumination. The subject overloads on sensory information because there's no darkness, which informs the body's internal clock, it's time to rest.

Tom, the current 'monkey' in the cage, slept fitfully, curled in a fetal position. He moaned and kicked the cage unaware of his actions. Rolling slightly, he swung at the cage and dented one bar yelling, "No!" his speech slurred with sleep.

Daniels' last session with Alexandra's torturers had tired him and he'd fallen into an exhausted sleep as soon as the guards had thrown him into the cage. This time, not even the spotlight could keep the man awake.

Tom entered deep REM sleep... but his dreaming was chaotic...

Tom struggled with three black-clad men, while the fourth drove the getaway van. Arching his back, he tried to dislodge two of his captors while the third came at him with a needle. Seeing the man lunge, he kicked it out of the man's hand before he could plunge it into his neck again for a second time.

The man cursed loudly and leaped to grab the needle from the corner, before he could break the vial with his feet. As the man's fingers closed over the needle, Tom kicked him in the face. Even in his

weakened and hurt condition, he did some damage. The crunch of the man's jaw breaking satisfied him and renewed his fight for freedom. Using the careening van's momentum, he shoved the assailant on the right onto the man with the broken jaw and needle.

Tom turned to deal with the man on his left. Pulling back, he swung his arm towards the man's face. Before his fist connected, he felt someone grab his arm and jab a needle into his neck. Tom crumpled unconscious to the floor of the van.

Back in the cage, Tom's thrashing calmed a bit, but he curled into a tight ball. Moaning, his dreams changed to another memory...

Tom dressed in khaki pants and nothing else, crouched in the cage, rocking on his knees, arms crossed and clutching his stomach. "Is their anyone out there," he weakly whispered. "Can anyone hear me?" Dropping the mental shields to survey his surroundings, he realized how second nature his empathy had become to his species. These shields had protected themselves from the onslaught of random emotions human's unknowingly projected. Without this mental defense, the constant buzz of projected emotion would drive his species crazy.

Tom focused his energies trying to sense if someone was nearby. After a few moments, he realized its no use. He's no longer fully dominant, and his sensing abilities were too weak. Rocking and shivering, Tom tried to determine who had kidnapped him. But the pain in his stomach and his bones debilitated him. He couldn't think clearly because of the effects of Ed's geno-genesis drugs and the harsh knockout drugs his kidnappers had used. But he did vaguely remember a time earlier...

waking in a bright room, stripped naked and the doctors probing him. Tom had recalled thrusting quickly from the table and startling the doctors. But before he could escape, someone had grabbed his arms and, and...

that was the last thing he had registered.

Cold air caressed his naked chest and realizing he needed to conserve his strength, Tom fell asleep.

"It's a simple command," explained said Andy Trowel. Tom recognized the man's voice as one of his kidnappers that fateful night. "I don't care if you don't believe a rat's ass. Alexandra wants the two of us to relieve you. You're ordered to report to your commander at once for re-assignment."

Snapping a salute, the men responded in unison, "Yes sir!" and quickly left the room.

Tom tiredly pulled himself to a sitting position against the bars. :Puzzlement and anger,: sensed Tom, as the two men quietly approached the bars. He noticed their wariness of him. 'Good,' he thought. 'Maybe I can use this incident to escape tonight.'

Andy Trowel approached the cage and pulled his gun from his holster. "Grab the handles of the bars, Daniels and don't move," he ordered. Gesturing to his partner to open the cage, he explained, "If you move, I will shoot."

Tom smiled a predatory smile. He would wait for his chance. Moving to obey, he slowly struggled to kneel facing Trowel and clasped the bars in front of him. Tom heard Joe Esterhaze insert the key and unlock his cage. Esterhaze returned to his field of view, next to Trowel, gun in hand as well.

"What's the matter?" taunted Tom. "Afraid I'll escape this wonderful torture facility?"

"Shut up and follow orders," snapped Esterhaze. "Just give me one reason, and I'll shoot first and ask questions later. You deserve it after what you did to our team partner, breaking his jaw like that. If I had..."

Trowel interrupted Esterhaze. "Leave the cage and stand up, slowly, no fast moves," he ordered Tom. Glaring at his partner, he said, "Cuff him."

Esterhaze swallowed his anger and pulled the cuffs from his back pocket. He approached Tom and stopped about a half-meter away from him. "Extend your arms slowly."

Tom knew his satisfied expression irritated both men. His chameleon training asserted itself because he needed to escape. "Tell me you wouldn't do the same if our positions were reversed?" he taunted. Watching Esterhaze's face closely, Tom laughed and said, "Besides, he deserved it."

Infuriated, Esterhaze swung at Tom, who anticipated the move and ducked. Tom drove into the man faster than a human could respond. He needed the advantage of surprise and his chameleon speed to win this fight. Tom was still appallingly weak and slow by his species standards, but it was enough. Both fell to the floor wildly struggling. Leaning onto the man's neck, Tom exerted pressure just as he heard Trowel's curse of "Damn," coming from behind him. Esterhaze lost consciousness as Trowel approached the two men. Rolling off him, Tom turned to confront the other Special Ops officer. But the burst of strength he'd used to tackle Esterhaze exhausted him and he was slow to react. Trowel pulled the trigger and shot him. Tom slumped to the floor; unconscious from the dart gun Trowel had stashed in the other holster.

Bob stared at Charles and declared bitterly, "No way! That cage was tight. There was no way he could break out of that torture device."

"Dr. Santiago," replied Charles Dancer, icily, "he's not in his cage. There is a security alert and lockdown in effect now." Charles stared deep into Bob's eyes as he asked, "Where is he? Did you let him out?" Seeing Bob's surprised reaction, Charles snapped and grabbed Bob's shirt and pulled him till they were nose to nose. "I know that you don't agree with Daniels' living conditions, nor the tests he's subjected to, so I ask again... where is he!"

Bob shoved at Charles, broke his hold, and strode to Jonathan's side. Walking around his friend's chair, trying to control his rage, Bob darted quick glances across the room. His anger barely in check, he turned the tables on the offensive man and approached Charles, forcing him back against a lab table, step by step, until he was looming over him.

Finger jabbing him in the chest, Bob stressed evenly, "I don't know!" each syllable, quiet and distinct. Leaning in nose to nose, he continued, "But you're right, I don't agree with what's going on over here. There have to be better ways to find this data we need to survive than to torture a poor man whose sole crime was to evolve to Homo Dominant."

Bob breathed heavily in Charles Dancer's red face; one hand pressed against the other man's chest to hold him in place. Both men tried to outstare the other as they heard Jonathan say ironically, "So! What's the Dragon Lady going to say when she finds out?"

"Lewis!" cried Sloan, as she recognized the sinister, raspy voice whispering in her ear. Looking in the mirror, she saw a battered, hardly recognizable chameleon pressed against the back of her seat, head next to hers, and a gun in his right hand, pressed under her right ear. His right eye was swollen shut, his face battered and bruised. Plus, a few fingers appeared to be broken on his left hand. Sloan couldn't see what other damage Alexandra had inflicted on him, but if his face was any indication, then it must be bad. Who knows what's bleeding internally?

Glancing away from Lewis' enigmatic blue eyes, she stared at the coat she had casually tossed aside. 'Oh my God!' thought Sloan horrified. 'Lewis, he must have broken into my apartment and grabbed it to keep himself warm while waiting for me in the car. With all those injuries, he must be in deep shock.' Sloan was surprised at the worry she felt for her enemy.

Realizing the danger, she was in again, a shiver of fear raced through her body and her glands released pheromones in response to it.

Lewis breathed deeply and ignoring the pain in his hand reached over and lightly caressed her face and hair. "Ah, Sloan, we'll have to wait for that. I'm not exactly in shape," he said ruefully, using her first name.

"Forget it Lewis," snapped Sloan, forgetting who was holding the gun.

Smiling a predatory smile, Lewis ordered, "Drive, Sloan. We're going on a short trip. One I'll think you'll enjoy."

Glancing sharply at Lewis, she tried to see if he was serious. But that face remained impassive, so Sloan reached forward and turned the key again. The engine roared to life and Sloan glanced at her unwanted passenger and asked, "Where?"

Lewis gestured to the south and said, "Drive south Sloan, on Route 1."

'Where did they take me and why did they move me?' wondered Tom. Scouting his location, he measured the sound of his light breathing echoing off the walls. Since his species' hearing was more acute than a Homo sapiens', Tom could distinguish the slightest sound. 'The echo time was shorter. Hmmm, I'm in the same cage, but the room is smaller.' Opening his senses, he found no one in the room. The guards were still outside the door, but no one was observing him. Tom decided to move, stretching slowly. Groaning silently, he felt the same joint and muscle stiffness as the first time they'd drugged him.

Needing to relieve the pain, Tom concentrated on each part of the body, willing each muscle to stretch and loosen. It was a form of Tai Chi taught during chameleon training. Often, assassins had to sit in cramped spaces, not moving for hours, in order to fulfill their assignments.

Grinning slightly, Tom recalled the hours he had spent in Sloan's closet, sitting on her shelf, waiting for her to return and the cops to leave. He had used those identical stretching techniques to remain there for so long. Tom remembered he had watched her as she was undressing beneath him. He had meant to descend and kill her in the walk-in closet, but he'd hesitated because his 'confusion' had interfered. His instincts said, 'woman', but his head said, 'Prey and target.' So he quietly waited and, well... as they say, the rest is history.

Returning to the present, Tom recalled it was standard training and he thanked the powers that be, he had aced that course.

Lewis just smiled a predatory, contemplative smile. Gesturing with his right hand, he ordered, "Off the highway, next exit, south." Following his orders, Sloan jumped when Lewis purred in her right ear. "Did you miss me?"

"Why should I?" answered Sloan, her tone hostile.

"Well we both know that Tom's not the right person for you," said Lewis, nuzzling her neck. "In fact, none of our species are. Oh, you're OK for a romp in the bed, but nothing more."

Jumping from this contact, Sloan countered, "Does it bother you that Tom chose our side? He chose to stay with me?"

"Ahh, Sloan," breathed Lewis softly against her ear. "We both know that's only temporary. Tom will eventually see and feel the error of his ways. Once he has tasted you, he'll return to the fold."

Sloan glared hatefully at Lewis in the center mirror reflection while Lewis half-smiled and tilted his head, considering her reaction. "But that doesn't preclude him from experiencing some, oh shall we say, enjoyment on his assignment?

"Tom's not like that!" stressed Sloan.

"Oh isn't he?" laughed Lewis. "All those women he seduced in his previous assignments. Tom's an accomplished lover. I should know. We trained him." Pausing to let that sink in, Lewis asked, "Did you know that Tom was supposed to seduce you that first night?" Enjoying her startled reaction, Lewis purred, "Yes. His orders were to approach you at Whitney University, seduce you and keep you away from discovering too much. Remember? That night you ran from Tom and escaped onto the bus? That incident changed his orders. From then on, you were prey, his target to eliminate."

"I don't believe you!"

Shrugging, Lewis replied, "Ask Tom." Gazing outside the car, Lewis ordered, "Turn into this driveway."

Complying, Sloan turned the car and stared at the approaching brick house, with a double driveway. It was a typical upper income suburban home in Benedict Canyon. Large two-story houses with pretty lawns and flowerbeds. Obviously, Lewis had rented the house and a landscaper to take care of the grounds. But they were too far apart for anyone to hear her scream. Turning into the driveway, she stopped next to the house and turned off the car. Lewis grabbed her car keys and painfully pulled himself out of the car. Sloan reluctantly exited into his waiting arms.

With his gun nestled against her waist, Lewis walked Sloan arm-in-arm to the front door. Motioning her to open the door, they walked into the darkened house. Lewis greeted the two chameleons, standing in the hallway waiting for his return.

Kyle, the blonde-haired 1.95m (6'5") chameleon on the left had soft shoulder length hair, sea blue eyes and a solid muscular build. Christopher, his companion had a smaller less imposing muscular build, about 1.83m (6') tall with black waist-length hair and exotic black eyes.

Sloan stared at both men and shuddered. Christopher though smaller, appeared more menacing and sinister. Both chameleons smirked at her reaction.

Lewis shoved Sloan into Chris's arms. "Secure her to the bed with duct tape. Hold her for 5 days, then release her." Sloan twisted away from the chameleon's arms and turned shocked eyes to Lewis.

Amused at Sloan's reactions, he said, "Till we meet again, my dear misguided Sloan. One day, I shall exact revenge for placing me into Alexandra's custody, but not yet."

Turning to Charles, leaning against her bookcase, she quietly stated, "Tom's not actually missing, but moved, since certain circumstances required I move him to another facility." Seeing the others about to inundate her with questions, she raised her hands and requested, "Gentlemen, please, allow me to finish."

Watching each face carefully, Alexandra tried to gauge who would be the likely traitor. Since she'd worked with Charles and David before, she believed they were reliable and dedicated to her cause; eradicating the new species to save their own. 'But one never knows,' thought Alexandra. 'The man who sent those photos to John Maxwell had to have access to them in the first place. And those men are present in this room right now. They all had read the research files for Lewis' interrogation.'

Turning to face the two newcomers, Alexandra understood Bob had trouble with a few of her methods of acquiring information, but she recognized the zeal in the man to have his questions answered. Jonathan appeared to agree with her ideas up to a point. But Alexandra didn't know where to draw that point, since he was so close-mouthed around her, never truly expressing his opinions.

"Gentlemen," stressed Alexandra quietly. "Security's breached. I can't explain how, but it was serious enough to necessitate moving Tom Daniels to another secret facility. You weren't informed because the move was last minute."

Charles interrupted Alexandra. "Do you suspect one of us?" he asked incredulously. Seeing her nod, Dave continued, "Both Dave and I have worked for you these past 10 years. How could you even question either of our loyalties?"

"I suspect everyone," stated Alexandra coldly. "While I understand none of you had access to the outside world and your work took precedence these past five days, none of you are exempt."

Standing, Alexandra approached her office door and opened it, waving the men through. "Gentlemen, pack what sensitive equipment you want to handle yourself tonight, and leave the rest for the transfer crews. We leave in the morning for the new facility."

After all the scientists had exited, Alexandra ushered the two commanding officers from her elite Special Ops Force into the office. Andy and Joe marched in and snapped to attention in front of her desk. Walking around the men, she sat and stared each man in the eyes. When they lowered their eyes in discomfort, Alexandra ordered, "Follow them. One of them is our traitor. I am sure of it."

Turning crisply, Andy and Joe marched from the office, leaving her alone.

Alexandra contemplated her dilemma. John Maxwell had discredited her. She no longer worked for the CIA; Special Branches and she could no longer hold Tom legally. The situation called for her to use one of the secret facilities she had procured and had hid in plain sight. "God, I hate wasting a perfectly good facility and using one of my secret ones. But if I don't, I lose the one chance of defeating the Homo dominants." Slamming her desk in frustration, Alexandra angrily said, "Damned if I am going to let dear old Walter win this fight. Over my dead body!"

Sloan had tried not to be frightened, but she didn't always succeed. However, she knew if she were to prevail and escape her captors, Sloan couldn't let her defenses down. She had to be strong in order to help Tom and her own species. 'Thank God for this mop of naturally curly hair,' thought Sloan, reaching up and withdrawing a barrette. She absolutely hated her 'Gina-look' with never a hair out of place, but it's too much trouble to straighten it all the time. Her curse in life, but also her savior at this point. Double-checking, Sloan started to sharpen it on the iron frame of the bed. It was slow going, but gradually one edge began to sharpen a bit.

Looking at the barrette, and fingering the edge, Sloan realized she couldn't attempt to use it yet, because it wasn't sharp enough. When she did try to escape, she had to be able to cut the duct tape on her wrist and ankle quickly. A dull point wouldn't work fast enough since Chris had wrapped both her hands and feet several times.

Hearing a noise outside her room, Sloan quickly replaced the barrette and moved into a fetal position to feign sleep.

Fidgeting in his seat of the car, he wished he was under the warm duvet covers on his bed at home and asleep. Walter sighed loudly and recalled his intent to sleep after he mailed the dossier to the director of the CIA. 'I hated to do it, but I had to mail a copy to the him anonymously. They need to know the identity of the Homo dominants Alexandra Luthor experimented on as well as the extent of her continued crimes. Without it, their special section won't be much use to our group. Knowing Alexandra, she destroyed all the paperwork associated with the project before she left their employ.'

Gripping the wheel, Walter pulled forward and glanced up into the night sky from the front window. His thoughts turned to the imminent arrival of Kewleys Comet. 'We have to discover the importance of Kewleys Comet to the Homo dominants.' Ever since he learned of the comet's existence from Tom and the pillar, he had tried to uncover everything, but to no avail.

Then another cog threw itself into the wheel. 'Who are these 'suits' who helped them escape from Travis? They're obviously Homo dominants, but from which side? Could it be a trick of Lewis' to lull them into a false sense of security, or were they truly concerned about our welfare. Of course, their phone call earlier this evening surprised me.' Flicking his eyes down the road ahead of his car, Walter saw the headlights of a car approaching. "Finally! Maybe I'll receive some answers at last."

He rolled down his window, while the large black car pulled alongside. The darkened windows on the other car hid the occupants, so Walter didn't know their identities. Their rear window rolled down partially and a disembodied voice said, "I trust you are well after your escapade at the facility?"

"Yes and thanks," responded Walter. "We appreciated your help at such a timely moment. But answer this. Why send your 'suits' to help with our rescue and the cleanup in the first place?"

"We have our reasons," mocked the unknown man. "All will be revealed in due time. Suffice it to say an known enemy is better than an unknown enemy."

"OK," answered Walter, slowly drawing out the word. "Want to tell me why you asked for this meeting?"

"Kewleys Comet will arrive in one month. All those Chosen will attend a secret meeting. Only a few know the location openly. Others had it programmed into them during the Ceremony of the Chosen. You must infiltrate this meeting because both of our species lives depend on the intelligence you'll gather. Mariana will reveal the location to Ed. Trust her." Pausing to give his driver some instructions, the unknown man turned and stated, "Never reveal this meeting to anyone." Silently the window closed and the black car drove away.