The land rover fought for traction on the unpaved road. The driver, Taylor, didn't use the lights, but relied on infrared goggles to see the road. Lewis sat up front, uncharacteristically leaning forward, as if anticipating the coming mission.

His eagerness bothered Nicholas in a way he had no words to express. Hunger, pain, danger, these were all things he had readily come to understand and become familiar with. But Lewis' response seemed far too emotional.

He hazarded a glance at Kyle seated next to him. Kyle was as composed as ever, and for all Nicholas knew, oblivious to Lewis and his state.

He allowed his shields to drop somewhat, to sense the three men that rode behind him. Carlos, Trent, and Davis. Even they seemed calm, yet alert.

Rescuing Tom Daniels from the Humans and placing him back under Dominant influence would see the return of what many of them believed to be the natural order of things to come. And the accomplishment of that goal would bring great satisfaction to Lewis, their mentor.

Tom Daniels' betrayal and his decision to side with the Humans had been a source of great turmoil among the Dominants. Nicholas couldn't help but wonder what had led one of Lewis' top operatives to make such a choice. How could such a high premium be placed on an individual who had done nothing but act to threaten the Dominants' very existence?

Relying on his training, Nicholas emptied his mind of the nagging doubts that clouded his perception. Focus was of paramount importance. The team had worked with precision on many an occasion. Nicholas told himself that this could be no different.

Lights glowed from an area up ahead. They were very close to their target, and Nicholas flexed his muscles, making ready to jump from the rover at top speed.

There was only one guard posted at the main gate to the compound. Ray couldn't help but wonder why the security would be so lax. Had Alexandra become so confident that she felt she needn't worry about taking precautions?

The van pulled up to the guard station. The driver flashed a bored smile and handed over his clipboard. Mariana crouched on the floor of the van, as Saul trained a 9mm at the man's head.

Outside the van, a crack sounded, and a splat of blood slapped the surface of the clipboard as the guard slumped to the ground. The driver, stunned for a moment, hit the accelerator and headed towards the loading area.

Mariana turned to Ray and spoke rapidly, "There are others here as well –Dominants!"

"Where? How many?" questioned Ray, surprised that the Dominants knew of this location so soon.

Before she could answer, Ray crouched to one knee as the van lurched to a halt, with its sliding doors parallel to the building. Using the rifle butt, he smashed the van's rear window and quickly brought the rifle he carried to his shoulder.

The driver exited the van and fired a volley of rounds at the facility's roof, before taking position behind the hood of the vehicle.

Reese and Saul ran from the van and dove for cover. Mariana shouted over her shoulder to Ray, "Stay here!" and then disappeared from the van as well.

Ray established a line of fire to the south, the origin of another volley of gunfire. The Dominant's response filled the van with shards of glass and debris. He could no longer see Saul, Reese, or Mariana, but he continued to lay down suppression fire. Ray saw only a blur of images, and though he thought they were men, he couldn't be sure – they moved so incredibly fast over a small knoll of grass, cascading toward them.

The land rover abruptly halted as the primitive road they had been following ended. The men silently exited the vehicle, taking positions on the crest of a grass knoll that overlooked the southeast corner of the compound.

Through binoculars, Lewis saw the van at the guard station. He turned to Taylor and ordered, "The van. Eliminate the driver."

The shot rang out, but missed, hitting the guard instead and Lewis cursed as he commanded his men to rush the area. They ran half-crouched to keep their balance, targeting the van and its fleeing occupants.

Kyle knelt and took out the four guards that swarmed from the building. They never made it 10 feet beyond the complex doors. Nicholas, sensing a man on the roof, dropped and rolled, rose, took aim and fired. The guard fell gracefully before hitting the pavement with a sickening thud.

Lewis' voice roared above the din of gunfire, "Take them, take them now!"

Taylor, Trent, and Carlos broke off to the left, while Kyle and Nicholas veered to the right, as they tried to flank the van and its former occupants.

Lewis and Davis rushed head on. Davis dropped before he had covered half the distance to the van. Lewis swung left as his man fell, shots stitching the ground behind him as he ran. Finally, he dove into the cover of some tall grass.

Kyle and Nicholas made it to the corner of the building, and pressed flat against its southern wall. Kyle motioned towards a guard station, and then moved eastward along the wall to take them out. Nicholas, with his back to the wall, readied himself to round the corner and make his way toward the van. Each time he tried to get a line of sight around the corner, gunfire forced him back. Chips of concrete lacerated his face. But when a moment of silence filled the air, Nicholas rounded the corner, keeping low to the wall.

He immediately realized the reason for the abrupt cease-fire – the Humans had popped smoke to mask their movements. 'A bold if somewhat futile tactic', he thought. Nicholas sensed their movements, a kaleidoscope of emotion marking their positions. 'All but one.'

Nicholas sensed her seconds before he saw her lithe form in the dissipating smoke. She and a human male were supporting a motionless figure between them, trying to reach the safety of the van.

He fired at the human, who fell dead to the ground. He noticed her grip on the other figure never wavered and Nicholas heard her shout, "Saul! Reese is dead. Help me!" For that brief instant, she was exposed and Nicholas took aim to fire.

And froze. 'Mariana! How could she!' He stared at her, a statue. And he knew she recognized him as well, as she too froze and stared in his direction.

But Mariana broke the contact, and with the other human heaved the prone form into the van, jumped in herself and was quickly followed by a third human, who was incongruously dressed in white.

Distracted, Nicholas felt the whiz of a bullet pass within an inch of his head. He fell to the ground and rolled, finding cover behind a storage cart. Then Kyle slid into place by his side and fired at the van. They took turns firing, though Nicholas was sure his shots went wide.

The final Human entered the driver's seat, and the van moved towards the road. Nicholas broke cover and began to run, firing at will. Other gunfire came from his left as the van neared the road. But the lead was too great, and Nicholas stopped running, though he continued firing until the clip was empty.

The cargo van lurched as it hit the curb, and then recovered its momentum, as it careened away from the stark facility. Nicholas watched as the night enveloped the vehicle, and he was left with the sound of only his own ragged breathing. He turned and made his way back down the road, opening up his senses to those of his team that were around him.

Twenty yards to his right, Taylor lay gasping. Nicholas went to his side and knelt in the weeds. Blood soaked the ground beneath him like black oil in the moonlight, as he vainly tried to staunch the blood flowing from the wound in Taylor's throat.

Sound and air gurgled in the dying man's mouth as he tried to speak. " We... shall...reign..." Taylor gasped out, then a blood bubble burst on his lips.

"In the kingdom of man," finished Nicholas. Closing the dead soldier's eyes, he stood quickly, and hefted Taylor's limp form over his shoulder. The clean-up team would remove all other traces of the Dominants’ presence after Lewis and his team had left. Carefully shifting the weight of his load, he turned to find the others.

As he walked, one thought raced through his mind. It had always been there, hiding, whispering to him when he was alone. Now it pounded through his skull, like the beat of his own pulse. "There must be another way. There must be another way." This one thought echoed repeatedly within Nicholas, as he strode quickly to find the rest of his team and to face Lewis.

The remaining Dominants returned to the van. Kyle and Nicholas arrived first, both laying the dead – Davis, Carlos, and Taylor – at their feet. Both men reeked of blood.

'Did Kyle see me freeze? It was only a moment but...'

Nicholas's thoughts become a miasmic cloud within him. He knew they needed to leave. The humans from the facility would rally at any second, and they would be badly outnumbered and outgunned.

And then a sound behind them caused them to turn. Lewis, carrying the dead Trent, walked up and dumped the body onto the others. He stood, with his hands clenched in fists, his mouth, a slash of unadulterated rage. Nicholas barely managed to hold his ground as Lewis slowly came to stand before him.

"Nicholas," Lewis' voice said with great sibilance. The silence that followed was filled with unspoken accusation.

Nicholas chose to face him, and he did so by looking fully into Lewis' eyes.

The blow that fell him broke his jaw. Nicholas tried to scramble to his feet, but Lewis brutally kicked him and he flew through the air. Landing hard, he felt several ribs break and a s he vainly tried to rise again, a strike to his head sent him sprawling over the dead bodies of the others.

Staggering upright once more, Nicholas couldn't tell if the roaring in his head came before or after the blow. And in truth, all sense of time had left him as well. Blow after blow rained on him. He watched in slow motion, as Lewis bellowed with anger as his arm shot forward. Using the web of skin between his thumb and finger, Lewis attempted to crush his vocal cords, but Nicholas realized his luck as his superior pulled the punch slightly at the last second.

Nicholas fell to the ground gagging. As he looked up, blood pouring from his nose and mouth, he saw Lewis draw back to deliver his killing blow. And yet, the blow never came. Eternity loomed, as he choked, looking up at Lewis' raised fist that refused to fall.

Instead, with a sweep of his hand, Lewis hauled him to his feet, totally supporting Nicholas' weight. He leaned close and with a voice filled with menace began a tirade, so full of fury it was almost beyond Nicholas' comprehension. "Did you think I'd not see? You froze. I saw how you refused to shoot one who had betrayed us for our enemy the Humans. Humans!" he spat contemptuously. "And you allowed them to take Tom Daniels from our grasp. His importance surpasses any of us here. Especially a female that defects to a weaker and inferior race!" Nostrils flaring, anger emanating from his eyes, Lewis swore, "I'll dismember you until you bleed dry into the earth!"

Nicholas closed his eyes, knowing that death was upon him. And yet, it didn't come. Even as Lewis shoved him to the ground, Nicholas hesitated to open them. But when he did, all he saw looming in his vision was Lewis' twisted visage, fighting for control.

Lewis turned, but his clear voice reverberated within Nicholas' mind. "Your only reprieve is that you now have one purpose – only one. You're to find a way to restore Tom to me. Do you understand?"

Nicholas could only make inarticulate sounds as he tried to acknowledge him through his badly bruised vocal chords. Turning, Lewis reached down to haul him within an inch of his face. "You will return Tom to me or I will shred you into a thousand pieces. Do you understand!"

Nicholas nodded, and then slumped to the ground as Lewis released his hold. Then he felt himself lifted up into someone's arms and over their shoulder. Looking down, he recognized Kyle as the one who carried him to the land rover and placed him within the back. As the engine roared to life, his last conscious thought was that Lewis had gone insane.

"Ring, damn it!" Ed had sworn that he'd call as soon as there was news. It rankled her that Walter had insisted she stay at the apartment. She wasn't used to being on the 'sidelines'. She needed to be doing something...anything. Was Walter afraid she couldn't handle what they might find?

The last few months had taken their toll, but amidst it all, her work had sustained her. Sometimes she thought of Ann, and what she might say about all she'd uncovered... all she'd seen. Would she still be proud of her?

Questions whirled in her mind, and she laid her head down once more. Within a minute, she fell asleep again—and began to dream.

Abruptly, Sloan raised her head. The phone rang, breaking the silence in the apartment. She stumbled to her feet with the throw encircled around her legs. Kicking, she lurched for the phone.

"Hello?" she answered, as her breath caught in her throat.

"It's me, Ed. Listen… Walter just called. He said they have him." Silence filled the line. "Sloan, did you hear me? They've got Tom with them. Maxwell says they're already on their way."

"I'll be right there," promised Sloan, anxious to finally see her 'Tom'.

"Wait!" interrupted Ed. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

"I'm coming" responded Sloan firmly before hanging up. Searching for her shoes, she sat and felt underneath the couch. Finding them, she pulled them out and fumbled to put them on. She had to be there – to see 'him'. Until then, Tom's freedom wouldn't be real for her. She yanked on a sweater, grabbed her keys, and flew out the door.

"Sloan," began Walter, "You must listen to me first. Tom...he's been traumatized and tortured. He's not the same person…"

"Where IS he!" Sloan demanded, as every fiber in her resonated with fear at the guarded look in both men's eyes. "I want to see him now." Both men hesitated and Sloan forced steel to return to her voice. She repeated quietly, "Now, Walter."

With his hooded gaze, Walter reached for her hand. "Sloan, listen to me. He's down the hall. But you must prepare yourself. He…"

Sloan wrenched from his grasp, and wheeled away. She flew down the corridor, her shoes slapping the linoleum. The observation room lay to her left and she came to a halt, her breathing ragged as she reached the room. She hesitated for a mere second, and then entered.

Tom lay on a hospital gurney in the middle of the near empty room. Her vision blurred slightly with the tears that welled and spilled down her face. "He's alive, and he's here." She repeated this silent mantra as she moved slowly to his side. "Alive… safe."

Staring down into his eyes, Sloan caressed his face, trailing her fingers along his cheek. "Tom? Everything will be all right. I'm here to protect you." But her voice broke off as she gazed down at him. His motionless body, always possessing a preternatural stillness, seemed like stone. She reached for his hand, taking his rigid fingers in hers, and squeezed them gently, as her hand swept his brow. His skin felt like parchment and was pale, a ghastly hue that left every plane of his face sharp and cold. But his eyes, they stared unblinking at the ceiling. Once piercing blue, they were almost devoid of color, as if all the energy had been drained from within.

"Oh Tom," whispered Sloan in dismay. "What have they done with you?" Determined to reach him, she stroked the side of his face again. "Tom? It's me, Sloan. Can you hear me?" When Tom didn't respond, she willed him to look at her, speaking softly to him, even as icy bands of fear constricted her heart.

Some of what Walter was trying to tell her finally sunk in. "My God! He's worse than that last time, when Lewis had reprogrammed him to kill again. What did Alexandra do to him?" Her mind reeled with the thought.

Sloan fought for some other memory. She remembered the last time she had looked into Tom's eyes moments before he was forced into the van that had stolen him away. His face had been so resolute and his intense gaze had seemed to bore into her, imprinting her image indelibly in his mind. Now his lifeless form was like marble and his eyes empty and blank.

Despairing she would ever get him back, Sloan slowly climbed onto the gurney and curled her body next to his. "Tom, I'm here," whispered Sloan as she lay her head next to his. "I'm right here. You're safe now. Listen to my voice and come back to me. Come back to me." Sloan curled tighter against him, determined to suffuse every part of him with her own warmth, her love for him. "It's going to be all right," and the familiar phrase caught in her throat as hot tears began to spill down her face again.

"Sloan?" Ed's voice was soft with concern. "We have to give him time. Getting worked up won't help him, or you."

Sloan paced the lab's corridor, worry written all over her body language. "But you saw him! It's been three days and his condition hasn't improved."

"But his vital signs are finally stable," Ed continued. "It's progress, Sloan."

Sloan stopped and leaned wearily against the lab door. With a small sigh she replied, "I know, I know, it's just that there should be more that we can do, something we're missing here."

Exasperated, Ed combed his fingers through his hair, pulling it in frustration. "Other than the deprivation tank Santiago told us about?" said Ed. "Sloan, that alone would be sufficient cause for someone like Tom to be in the condition he's in. We have no idea how long they had been conducting that last experiment, or what duress he suffered before that." Ed turned and faced her.

"That's exactly it!" responded Sloan, grabbing his arm. "You said yourself that his blood work…"

"…Contained substances we have yet to identify," finished Ed. "Sloan, listen to me, okay?" Ed put his hands on her shoulders as he tried to calm her. "We'll take this one step at a time. We just have to wait and see where to go from here. Dr. Santiago may be able to help us."

"And you trust him?" Sloan was incredulous. "Ed! He was part of what was done to Tom in the first place!"

"Yes, he was," stressed Ed. "And, he did supply information that allowed us to get Tom back." Ed sighed. "But I don't think he'll be allowed any free access to the lab until Walter feels sure of him. Right now they're more interested in what he knows about those who took Tom. Especially what he knows about Alexandra Luthor and her future plans."

Sloan's face became tight with anger, "She is a monster!"

"Hey!" soothed Ed, smoothing the lines of anger from her face with his hand. "They'll find her soon. And, at least we have Tom back."

Sloan looked squarely at Ed as she said, "I feel so helpless, you know? I keep thinking…I keep thinking that it's partly my fault."

"Whoa!" interrupted Ed. "How is any of this your fault? Alexandra Luthor and her goons did this, not you."

"Yes," said Sloan, casting her eyes down, "but he wasn't 'himself' when they took him. Because of the genogenesis therapy, he wasn't totally Dominant. His survival instincts weren't intact and this made him vulnerable. He did it for me, so we could have a life together, without worry."

"Then it's my fault, Sloan," Ed broke in. "I gave him the therapy. I designed the damn thing!" Ed nervously raked his hand through his hair again.

"No!" she countered. "I didn't mean that!" Sloan grabbed for his hand. "Ed, Tom made that decision. But I think he made it because..." Sloan dropped her gaze in guilt, "well... partly because I pushed him too hard. I pushed him to want to be human."

Shaking his head, Ed tried to explain Tom's reasoning to her. What Tom told him while they were waiting for her return from the lab with the serum that fateful night. "He took the therapy because he wanted to be sure that his species wouldn't die from something that wouldn't work. As for the rest, he wanted to be with you. If you helped push him to be anything, it was not to be a killer." He paused to let those facts sink in. "Besides," Ed continued, placing his finger beneath her chin and raising her head, moving to catch her gaze, "Tom's pretty stubborn." He grinned slyly. "Almost as stubborn as you are."

Sloan smiled up at him in mock indignation. "Oh, you think so?" But her eyes quickly darkened again and she asked plaintively. "What makes us so different from them? I look at Tom in that bed and I can't help wondering, if our species could do such torture to another species… Did we do the same to the Neanderthals? Hell! How can humans claim our struggle for survival is more worthy than theirs?"

Ed gaze fell, shaking his head, trying to make sense of it all. "I don't know, Sloan. Maybe coexistence is the answer. But when I think of those like Lynch, Lewis, and Travis, I just can't see it. Their natural aggression and brutality is quite impressive. And after all that I saw at that ceremony, we just scratched the surface of their instinct for survival. So it's hard to see them any other way. Most are not peaceful. We have to fight, anyway we possibly can, before they find a way to kill us all."

Sloan stood and stretched, her muscles cramping from sleeping in the metal chair next to Tom's bed. The lab was already bustling with activity. She had fallen asleep watching Tom's impassive face and the various monitors attached to check all of his vital signs and brain activity. An IV slowly dripped, and she leaned to check it.

Then she cast a quick gaze through the room's window to ensure that the guard that was supposed to be stationed at the door was indeed there. Security had been tight since the lab had been returned to them, and at times it had been a bit of a nuisance. But, now it reassured her somewhat to see this token form of protection for them, and especially for Tom.

"Hey there," said Ed, as he leaned his head in the doorway. "How ya doing?"

Sloan smiled wanly at the concern in his eyes. "In serious need of some caffeine."

"Voila! Just what the doctor ordered." From behind his back, Ed produced a large styrofoam cup of steaming liquid. He walked in and handed it to her, all the while casting curious glances at Tom. 'If it wasn't for the half-opened eyes, Tom might have seemed asleep,' Ed thought.

Turning to Sloan again, he noted the deep circles under her eyes. Worry and exhaustion were beginning to take their toll. She blew on her coffee, and then took a tentative sip.

"Sloan," said Ed, his voice full of worry. "You could use some rest. There's a cot set up down the hall. Why don't you take a break?"

"I can't right now," she said as she turned and sank back down into her chair. "Maybe later."

Ed weighed whether to push the point, but instinctively saw that Sloan needed to be by Tom's side. He shoved his hands down into his lab coat and rocked on his heels. "Walter suggested that maybe we should think about administering chlorpromazine. See if it helps."

Sloan turned to her friend, shocked that he could suggest this. "And you think that's a good idea? Ed, chlorpromazine is a tranquilizer used for psychotic disorders!" Sloan exclaimed.

"Yes. And that includes catatonia. Come on Sloan, you know it works on the higher centers of the brain as a depressant for his central nervous system. It might allow his body to rest. Maybe even help him be responsive!"

"Or cause his muscles to become rigid," Sloan interjected. Shaking her head slowly, she looked at her cup. "I don't know, Ed."

"That's only one 'possible' side effect," stressed Ed. "Besides, we may have no other choice, Sloan. They overloaded Tom's system and he needs a chance to recoup his strength." When she didn't reply, he went on, "How about letting me talk to Walter again. Okay?" Not waiting for an answer, he walked to the door and turned as he opened it.

Sloan looked at him. "Okay," she said, "But…"

"I know, I know," grinned Ed. "Sure you won't take a break? I can stay with him."

"Thanks, Ed. But I think I want to stay a while longer," she said with a warm smile. "But, you could bring me a doughnut, a jelly one, if there's one left."

He chuckled. "Jelly it is. See you in a bit," as he left the room.

Sloan sighed and sipped her coffee while she looked at Tom. After a moment, she set the cup on the table next to the bed. She took his hand and slowly caressed it between her own.

Sloan closed her eyes as she held Tom's hand to her cheek. She'd been talking to him softly, telling him what had been happening. She flitted from one subject to another, as she realized she needed an outlet for the pent up thoughts that circled in on one another.

'What's that?' thought Sloan trying to make sense of the small inarticulate sound she heard. Sloan glanced up quickly towards the head of the bed. Tom's eyelids fluttered, and suddenly his hand closed on her own. Trying not to cry, she softly called his name.

"Tom," encouraged Sloan. "Come on, Tom, that's it, wake up, I'm right here. Come back to me." She stood over him, clutching his hand tightly to her chest. "Tom, can you hear me? Squeeze my hand. Come on, you can do it." Relief coursed through her as she felt a small pressure answer her own strong grasp.

Tom's eyelids flickered for a moment and then closed. When he opened them, a face swam above him. Blinking, he watched this blur sharpen, and Sloan's face appeared before him, distinct and clear. His throat worked, but no words came. Then he noticed the bed; the machines and the things attached to him. Cringing away from her, folding tight against the wall, a wave of fear washed over him as he weakly pulled them loose. An instinct to run pounded in his blood.

Sloan grabbed his hands, trying to restrain him, to catch his attention, to prevent him from pulling out any vital IV's. "Tom! It's okay! You're safe here." Sloan spoke as calmly as she could. "You're with friends now. Everything is all right. No one can get to you here," she said laying a hand gently on his chest, urging him to stretch out and lay back. His eyes were wide with shock as he looked at her without comprehension. "Do you know where you are?" Sloan asked.

He turned and scanned the room, eyes filled with apprehension. But then his gaze returned to Sloan, cocking his head in that curious way of his.

With a tremulous smile she asked, "Tom? Do you know who I am?" Her heart pounded, as both fear and joy filled her simultaneously. She touched his arm, as she looked deep into his eyes searchingly.

With a voice hoarse from disuse, he very quietly spoke. She had to lean forward to make the word out. "Sloan." Crying tears of joy, Sloan laid her head on his chest and clasped him to her.