Paul and George found one another on the tarmac outside of the Unknowables' makeshift headquarters. It seemed ironic that they were finally able to leave this place after weeks of being trapped there for their own safety, and they were walking straight into the jaws of the beast; they were walking to their execution and they knew it. The sun was just barely beginning to rise and the morning air was noticeably cool against their faces.

"So this is it," George said.

"This is it," Paul sighed.

"Paul! George!" They both looked up to see Yoko running toward them, waving her arms above her head to get their attention. Both of them grinned at her.

"Come to say goodbye, then?" George barked.

"I just came to say I'll see you both in hell," Yoko snorted.

"All right, but seriously," Paul huffed. "Best of luck to both of you today. Stay as safe as you possibly can, okay?"

"Yeah. Thank you."

"Same to you, Paul."

They were about to split up and go their separate ways, off to their assigned squadrons, but just as they were about to say their final farewell, another voice was shouting for them.

"Wait! Wait! I'm coming!"

Paul, Yoko, and George looked up to find that Barney was sprinting toward them. He stumbled to a halt in front of them. "I had to make sure I came and said goodbye to all of you. It has been an honor knowing each one of you."

"Oh, Barney," Yoko sighed, and she pulled him in a hug. George laughed sadly, and he hugged Barney, as well.

George and Yoko departed, heading off to where they were meant to be. Paul turned to Barney, frowning. "I guess this is really goodbye, then."

"Oh, no, not for us," Barney said, and to Paul's surprise, he grinned. A classic Barney Grin. It warmed something up inside of Paul that had been cold for several months now; it breathed something back to life inside of him. "You and me, 'til the very end, Paul. They've assigned me to escort you into battle and stay at your side as long as possible."

"What? Why? I'm just a soldier, now, like everybody else."

Barney snorted. "Yeah, no. You're still Paul McCartney. You're sort of a hot commodity."

Paul sighed. "Whatever. We're teammates, then."

"Always."

"C'mon, then," Paul laughed. "Let's get to our station, soldier."

***

Paul leaned back against the wall he was seated against, and he clutched the gun that Marbella had pushed into his hands as he was boarding his assigned aircraft back on the tarmac. He was breathing heavily, looking around anxiously, and he was trying to figure out how everything had gone so horribly wrong so quickly.

Paul and Barney's squadron had gone around the perimeter of the F.H.O. headquarters, and knocked out the guard that was blocking the entrance to the basement with ease.

The plan was to attack from all sides. Some, who were trained with such equipment, were sent in using jet packs; they were going to come in from all sides, on all floors. The Unknowables agents who had been working for the F.H.O. in order to infiltrate their headquarters were to spread themselves out, with several of them stationed on each floor. That was the first strike. The second strike would consist of ground agents infiltrating from underneath (coming up from the basement) and through the front and back doors.

Up through the basement, Paul and Barney's squadron went. Some of them were already up and well into the building when the wall collapsed. Well, "collapsed". Nick Wilson shot it down.

Paul fell backward, coughing, then scrambled to his feet.

"You all followed that trick so blindly," Nick laughed, pulling a gun on Paul with a smirk, but Paul was faster. Seldom had he held a gun before, but he was pushed by the need to survive and get back to John. He shot Wilson's grandson dead and moved on quickly because he had no other choice.

"Barney!" Paul cried.

"Paul, you're going to have to find another way around," Barney called through the rubble.

Paul looked down the long hallway that was headed west instead of north. "Okay," he said, sounding unsure.

"Just find another group as quickly as you can," Barney said. "They'll tell you what to do from there."

"Right," Paul said. "I'll see you on the other side of the war!"

Barney laughed. "I'll see you on the other side of the war!" And Paul didn't know why, but it kind of sounded like Barney was singing that line.

Paul stared down the hallway that was heading west. "Right," he said to himself. "Here goes nothing." And he set off. The hallway was much longer than he had initially anticipated, though, which was how he ended up on the ground, back leaned up against the stone basement walls. He was thirsty, and he was exhausted. He felt like he'd been walking for hours. He knew that he needed to keep going, he needed to keep fighting, but God, he was just so tired.

He scrunched up his nose when he realized something smelled off. He looked up at the vents that ran along the underground corridors. "Oh, shit," he muttered. There was a wispy grey fog that was curling out of the vents. Paul wasn't getting exhausted just from walking, this was a trap, and a good one at that. Paul knew that he couldn't stay awake for very much longer.

***

George and Yoko didn't quite realize that they'd been placed in the same squadron until they arrived at their assigned station together. Marbella greeted them there. "There you are, finally," she said, and she already sounded impatient. (But then again, she always sounded impatient.) "I picked you both specially to be on my team."

"Oh, for real?" Yoko said. "Cool."

"Oh, awesome," George said. "Why, though? What's so special about us?"

"Speak for yourself," Yoko said and she smacked George's arm. "I know exactly what makes me so special."

George laughed.

"If you could focus, please," Marbella said and she snapped her fingers at the two of them. "George, I have been impressed with your commitment to the Unknowables over the years. Let's be honest, Paul is only in this for the sake of saving John. But you've committed yourself to the cause."

"Well, what about me, then?" Yoko said. "I'm the one who told Paul he wasn't committed enough to saving John's life and that he was too invested in your so-called cause."

"Oh, you?" Marbella said. "You're a sharpshooter and I've seen you fight. We need that for what this squadron is assigned to do."

"Oh?" Yoko said, intrigued.

"And what's this squadron assigned to do?" George asked.

"We're going to assassinate President Wilson."

***

Paul blinked awake only to find a blinding white light. He blinked quickly, trying to get his eyes to adjust to his bright surroundings or at least just get them to stop watering, but he wasn't having much luck.

Someone stepped into view in front of him. They were wearing an outfit almost as white as the place the two of them were in. They were also wearing a face shield and the white light didn't seem to be bothering their eyes as much as it was bothering Paul's. Actually, the light didn't seem to be affecting them at all. Paul started to wish that he had one of those face shields.

Paul tried to move, but instead, he realized that he was in a chair and his wrists and ankles were shackled in place. He looked back up at the person who was approaching him. "Please," he croaked, "help."

The person standing before him chuckled and started to whistle the Beatles song, "Help!" while fussing with a keypad which was a part of the chair that Paul was trapped in. Paul trembled as this stranger whistled his own song to him while refusing to help him. When they were done with the keypad, they nodded once to Paul and, while whistling another chorus, they exited the room swiftly.

Paul looked around, panicked. "Hello?" he called. "Someone? Anyone? Help me!" His breathing was heavy. "Where am I...?"

The bright white light wasn't quite so blinding anymore. He could make out a door, several feet in front of him. It had a little window, but it was tinted so that Paul could not see through it. Although, he got a sudden feeling that he knew exactly what was on the other side of that door.

When a woman began to appear out of nowhere in front of that door, Paul knew that his suspicions must be right. As her face formed, and her hair began to sprout out of thin air before her scalp had even begun to form, Paul knew exactly where he was. Oh, boy, he was in trouble now. But then, he really should have seen this coming sooner, he thought to himself. After all, he was a traitor and Barney told him early on what the F.H.O. did with traitors.

Traitors were put in the White Room.

The woman standing in front of the door finished materializing from nothing. Paul knew, even as she solidified before him, that she was not real. He also knew that he had a matter of minutes before he forgot that whatever appeared around him was just visions made up by his mind as the White Room drove him mad.

The woman ("The woman who is not real," Paul reminded himself) stepped toward him and smiled eerily. "Hi, Paul," Linda said. "Have you missed me?"