Bradley's voice was unmistakable, and Ryan heard the person speaking into the radio, rather than the one on the other end, swear. He was sure the 'talk' button wasn't pressed.

"Affirmative!" the first two voices said in unison.

"Then, find him and bring him to me. I'll deal with you later."

"Affirmative."

The second affirmation was less assertive than its predecessor, sounding more like that of a sulking child, told off by an angry parent. Ryan didn't have time to digest the conversation, particularly the part referencing Oscar 15 and the potential for it to be him, as heavy footsteps approached them quicky.

The guard, indicated by the large gun and combat clothing, rounded the corner and should have ploughed straight into Ryan and Pedra. He didn't get the chance. Moving more swiftly and with more grace than he would have expected of her, Pedra rolled in front of the man legs, tripping him. He stumbled forward, swearing again, but didn't go down. As he regained his balance, he was spinning, bringing his gun upwards.

Pedra was already upon him, her leap almost a glide through the air. Her legs wrapped around his neck, forcing him backwards. Her hand went up and she brought it down, jamming a taser into his eye socket.

The resultant electrical storm within his head seemed to light his skull from within. He had begun to fall back from Pedra's weight, but the taser took any resistance out of his body. He slumped to the floor.

Pedra was standing astride his head, panting slightly. She stepped to the side.

"Help me," she said.

Together, they dragged the man into Bradley's office. It was their only option. They did their best to hide him behind the sofa, but any cursory glance in the room would reveal their poor attempt. Hopefully the doctor and her staff had other things to concern themselves with.

"Right," Pedra said impatiently. "Can we get a shift on?"

Ryan was trying to calm his too fast beating heart, so nodded silently. The woman had seemed to be little more than a downtrodden assistant to a demanding boss. There had been no indication of any further abilities. Her demeanour had, if anything, given the impression she was meek. Compliant. Bradley's leadership methods must be so demanding, they crushed her dynamism. And the role of subordinate probably didn't require the fighting skills of an action movie star.

Could he fight like that? Had he ever needed to in his other, previous life? He didn't think so. When Pedra had taken both him and the guard by surprise, with the latter being killed in the process, Ryan had not felt any urge to join in. There'd been no blast of adrenaline surging through his body. His instinct had not even been to run. It had been to cower. To be afraid. Very afraid.

"Well?"

He gasped at her voice. Shock, he thought. He was shocked by the speed and intensity with which things had escalated. If she hadn't been there waiting for him once he had passed through the warehouse door, he would have had to face the guard alone. His continued survival in that case was doubtful.

"Yeah." He muttered. "Let's go."

Pedra set off, turning away from the direction the guard had come. He followed.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

She was moving quickly and he was trying to keep up, but even the sound of their footsteps echoing flatly in the corridor was enough to spook him. Their shadows cast across the floor from the bright overhead lights were ghosts chasing him.

Ghosts?

C... Clara!

"What are you after?"

"What do you mean?"

"What made you let everyone out and come through that door? Why not just stay where you were and wait?"

"Wait? Who would want to just wait? You might be killing us all off, one by one. I've seen a ton of films like that."

She stopped running and took his arm, staring at him.

"How do you know?"

"What?"

"The films. How do you know?"

"I... No idea. Why? Isn't it true?"

"I don't know either. I haven't read your full file. Still, you're not meant to know."

"Why not?"

"We're not killing you off. Or... No... Forget that. It's not important. Answer the question."

"I have. I wasn't just going to wait to die. Now you answer."

"And what did you expect to happen when you came through? A welcome party?"

"No. I didn't know. But you..."

"Yet still you came. For what?"

"Answers. I want answers!"

"More than finding a way out?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that's where we're going. To get you answers."

"Why?"

She was already running, and he still didn't have a real reply. If that's what she was offering, maybe he'd find out soon.

Another junction, with three offerings of a way forward. Pedra didn't hesitate in turning left, followed by an immediate right. A flight of stairs led downwards and she took them two at a time. He followed, but stuck with one step quickly followed by a second. It created a gap between them, but Ryan thought it better that way than potentially tripping and falling. Pedra disappeared through a door at the bottom, and he rushed to rejoin her.

"Now!"

He didn't have time to react or slow himself. He saw Pedra's angry face and a guard looking surprised. He saw the guard point something at him, but he didn't see what. The hand holding the object was taken by Pedra. She pushed it down and brought her knee up into the elbow joint. The resultant snapping sound seemed louder than it probably was. The guard's scream may well have easily been as loud as it appeared, but Pedra's flattened side swipe to his throat cut it off just as it ventured out. He dropped to his knees and she swung her leg almost horizontally back, then brought it forward. Her foot connected just under his chin, at the point her hand had jabbed a moment before. His head was knocked back and another snap was heard.

She didn't bother to step over him this time. He was laying on his back with his neck bent awkwardly and his arm at an obscene angle. Pedra walked on, putting one foot on his chest as if it were the floor and her step would have placed it there anyway.

"Come on," she said.

Ryan followed her silently. He, though, walked around the guard instead of over or on. He saw the gun in the man's hand and thought about picking it up. Protection. He decided not to. Pedra's reflexes and skills were easily enough. Had he killed Jarvis? Perhaps, but that was out of necessity. It was an instinctive attack to facilitate his escape. If he took that weapon, he would change from a killer to a murderer. The next life he took would be premeditated, and the two were distinct versions of killing in his mind. He might have to be one, but he could prevent himself becoming the other.

"Take it."

He looked at Pedra and shook his head.

"No. I'm fine without it," he said.

"You might need it. Take it just in case."

"I said no. I'm not shooting anyone."

"It's too late to be squeamish now. You might not have a choice if it comes down to you and them."

"Then it'll be me. I'm not taking it."

"Then you're a fucking idiot."

She shoved him aside and grabbed the gun herself. She slipped it into her belt.

"I'll put it there for easy access for either of us."

"It's fine," Ryan insisted.

"And if it isn't, then you can still get to it. You just don't have to carry it. Fucking wuss. Now, come on."

Her face was an undisguised snarl, and he ignored it. He still didn't know why she was helping him or if she could be trusted. Let her think him weak. It made no difference to him. He had to remain prepared, and the gun would way on him in too many ways.

Pedra moved on, but slowed. There was no longer a headlong rush to get wherever she was taking him. She was semi-crouched and keeping close to the wall. Ryan followed her example.

"We're almost there," she said quietly.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going? Or tell me anything?"

"We're where you'll find the answers you need. Or want, because I don't think you need them. I'd wait, if it was me, because that really is for the best."

"Then why help?"

"'Cos Bradley is a bitch. She's her father's bitch, but she doesn't have to be so... bitchy about it. I fucking hate her. Even though you're you, and we need you, I think you should know the truth. At least why."

"But why me? Who the fuck am I?"

"You're nobody, Ryan. Nobody at all. And that's the point. Because you're no-one, you're also everyone."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Go in there and find out."

She pointed at a door. Above a narrow pane of darkly frosted glass was a sign.

RECORDS

NO UNAUTHORISED ACCESS

Connected to the handle was a keypad. Before hecould ask for the entry code, the phone he'd been carrying rang.