As the sun began to set, Jake became restless. The normally calm, focused hacker was suddenly fidgety. He tried to hide his leg shaking underneath the desk, but it didn't escape my notice. It seemed he was watching the clock even more closely than I was and time for us to leave for his first session was quickly approaching.

In preparation, I looked up the directions on how to get to the doctor's office online as neither one of us had a working phone, and I wrote notes on a scrap piece of paper I found. Trying my hardest to burn the map into my memory, I took into consideration all of the likely busy intersections with high foot traffic and police presence. Obviously, we would want to avoid walking near the courthouse and other government related buildings. The office itself was in a four-storey building with other medical professionals in a rather dense high-end area of the city. Studying the satellite view, I noticed an alley behind the building. That would be our point of entry to avoid being seen.

With a plan in place, I stood up from my desk and went to get myself ready for going out. Afterwards, I reheated some leftovers for dinner and encouraged Jake to eat as well. Without saying a word, he reluctantly joined me in the cafeteria, but he spent most of the time pushing food around his plate rather than eating. However, once he realised I wasn't being fooled by it, he started eating. I'm pretty sure my unimpressed glare gave away my feelings on the matter.

By the time we were leaving to visit Dr. Cumming's office the night was in full swing. People dashed between work and their evening plans, which made moving incognito easier as everyone around us was in a rush to get somewhere. No one gave us a second glance. Had our faces already fallen from the public mind? Was the collective memory that short or were they that consumed with their lives that we didn't even register in their consciousnesses? Still, we had our masks and hoods on, and avoided eye contact as best as we could.

It felt good though to be able to be amongst the crowds again. I wouldn't have thought our isolation over the past week was so isolating when we were still in the middle of the city, but there was something to be said of blending in with everyday people, even if it was a guise. After all the craziness, it was reassuring to be part of society and civilisation. Like we weren't such monsters after all. Like we had the same rights and privileges as anyone else around us. Like we were the same. As our train weaved back and forth, I imagined living a standard, average life where this was just par for course. A life where I didn't have to fear for my life every day of the week or run at the sight of a cop. A life where I had consistently clean clothes and a roof over my head. Everything I took for granted in the past. I glanced at Jake standing beside me, casually in a protective stance over me while scanning the crowd for any potential threats. I couldn't fathom giving him up just to have the luxuries of the past again. If you asked me whether I was willing to make all the same choices again with the knowledge I had gained, it would be yes every time.

As the train approached our station, I pulled out my notes to confirm the path again, but I kept them as a discrete, folded reference so it wasn't too obvious that we weren't familiar with the area. I felt like a kid again bringing sneaking notes in for a test, but I really didn't want to draw attention to us. Jake noticed though and despite trying to hide his reaction, I could tell he was mocking me behind his mask. Still, he shifted his body to help me conceal my cheat sheet from prying eyes.

We exited the train station onto streets lined with niche cafes and quaint eateries. Cleo and Jessy would've had a field day trying to choose just one place to eat. I could almost hear them arguing over which option was best only to decide on visiting both, one for the main meal and the other for the dessert afterwards. Jake and I though, we didn't fit in a posh neighbourhood like this. We stuck out like sore thumbs so we made haste through the area. As soon as we moved off the main road, I saw Jake noticeably relax. Perhaps the smell of overpriced hipster coffee started to get to him.

Around the next corner I spotted the building that housed Dr. Cumming's office. It was a rather unassuming building with a plain, executive concrete exterior. At the front there was an entrance to the underground parking lot beside a double glass door entry to the building. A couple of buildings before it was a narrow entrance to the alleys. Motioning to Jake, I took the lead and navigated us down the alleyway around some tight corners to the rear of the building. A metal chain-link fence wrapped around the bottom of the building, enclosing the parking garage. I peered in and could see it was mostly empty save one car. However, the fence was pristine with no gaps or holes. I started to think that maybe entering via the rear wasn't going to be a feasible option without something to cut the fence, then Jake whistled to get my attention around the far corner of the building. There he had found a gate, but it only had an RFID electronic lock with no handle or keyhole. I put my hand on the gate and sure enough, it was firmly locked.

"We're not going to be able to enter this way unless you have a pair of bolt cutters on you," I pointed out. "Now I'm wishing we kept those."

Jake didn't respond. He busily rummaged through his backpack, then pulled out a small handheld device. To the untrained eye, it looked like a portable game device, but after a couple of button pushes, the electronic lock beeped and clicked open.

"What?" I did a double take as I pulled the gate open.

"Bought it at a market," Jake shrugged and shoved the device back into his backpack. "It mirrors RFID signals."

"What kind of a market? Hacks R Us?" I teased.

"Something like that," he smiled. "After you."

Nervously, I entered the dank underground carpark. The lighting was shockingly bad with half of the fluorescent lights either not working or blinking erratically. Though it was nearly empty, it still felt like something or someone was lurking down there. If Jake had not been with me, I might have been inclined to leave and take my chances with the main entrance of the building. Jake though wasn't even fazed by situation. He walked right past me towards a door at the far end of the garage. As I walked closer, I noticed the faded stepped line beside the door acting as a sign for the staircase. The door was unlocked, but the weight of it caught Jake by surprise. The knob slipped out of his hand, however he caught the door before it slammed closed.

"It's heavy," he warned as he held it open for me. "Which floor are we going to again?"

"Floor 3. Time to get our steps in," I joked.

The concrete staircase was surprisingly well lit compared to the basement, and unlike every other staircase in the city, it didn't smell like piss or vomit. How low had my expectations gotten? Still, after four flights of stairs, the door for floor 3 couldn't come soon enough.

Feeling a little out of breath, we slowly stepped into the corridor, giving our heart rates a chance to settle. The hallway was rather barren with plain walls and doors for each office. Some had simple, single door entries with a small, look-through window and plain text signs simply with the specialist's name and credentials. Others had more elaborate double glass door entries and pretentious signs, as if it made a difference in the doctor's skills and abilities. For instance, the cardiologist had a floor-to-ceiling stock photo of a middle-aged couple smiling beside their entrance. That was an impressive amount of money spent considering it wasn't like people normally window shopped for their specialists. I really had to fight the urge to draw curly moustaches on their faces. You can imagine my relief that Dr. Cumming's office had plain double doors with a reasonable sized window in each. No ridiculous advertising. No pretentious typeface.

Not surprisingly we found the office doors locked, but peeking through the windows, we could see that there was still light emanating from the slightly ajar door at the back of the reception area. The doctor was still there, catching up on his paperwork as he said he would be. I glanced at Jake. He stood back, hands in his pockets, and waited for me to take lead on the situation.

I let out a sigh and knocked firmly on the door, then waited with bated breath for a response. It seemed like an eternity, but after a couple of minutes, the door to the private office slowly opened. The light momentarily blinded me, but then I saw the doctor's silhouette approaching us. He checked us out through the window, as if to confirm who we were. I started to feel nervous about the whole situation until the lock on the door clicked open. The doctor stepped away from the door and nodded. I glanced at Jake again. He was stoic and difficult to read, but when his eyes met mine, they seemed to express trust in my decision.

Nervously, my sweaty hand gripped the door knob and turned it cautiously. Opening the door felt like opening a gateway to another dimension. I stepped through first with Jake close behind. He pulled the door shut and locked it up again.

Meanwhile I glanced around the small, but typical reception area. There was an imposing wooden reception desk that had been fitted with acrylic screens bolted directly into the wood. The screens themselves had laser jet printed signs written in German cut out and taped to the screens. Given we were standing in a doctor's office, I could only imagine the long words that looked like gibberish were referring to health insurance or doctor's referrals. There were only six grey ergonomic seats, scattered in socially-distanced pairs around the room. On closer inspection, these were bolted to the floor. In the corner stood an old-school water cooler, breaking the silence with its mild rumble. It too was bolted to the wall. The walls featured geometric abstract paintings, which felt more like a modern take on the old Rorschach inkblots than actual artwork. I couldn't help but wonder if they served an ulterior motive in the waiting room. Given how many objects in the room were bolted to prevent them from being used maliciously by patients, I had to assume the paintings too were secured. Just how violent were Dr. Cumming's patients? Did he have a habit of choosing just the most disturbed cases or was provoking outbursts part of his method? Lilly had praised Dr. Cumming for helping Hannah so sincerely that I hadn't given it any thought, but I started to have second thoughts.

"MC. Jake," Dr. Cumming broke the uncomfortable silence. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Did you tell him?" Jake hissed.

"No, I assure you MC did not reveal your identities. Not intentionally at least," the doctor spoke up before I could respond.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with us," I cut in quickly. "Especially given our public reputation."

"Which Hannah tells me is a series of false accusations. I have to admit though that my curiosity of the situation may have persuaded me to make this most irrational decision," the doctor admitted.

"Hannah? How is she?" I asked.

"As you know I cannot speak in detail of her situation, but given Jake is family, I can say we have been making progress, though the recent news concerning the two of you has made her very distraught," the doctor explained. "That aside, I want to make myself very clear. You want my services, and I will provide them at nothing less than the full rate. Jake will be protected by doctor-patient confidentiality, but this does not cover any grievous crimes. I will be forced to report any murders, sexual offences or drug dealings."

The way the doctor looked at us, he knew we had blood on our hands. I gulped instinctually, "Payment is not an issue, but I don't understand, why would you agree to meet with us if you don't trust us?"

"My work is in the interest of helping clients. Sometimes that includes helping clients come to terms with their past actions and guide them moving forwards. I regularly work with attorneys and the law to works towards better plea bargain arrangements with reduced prison sentences where appropriate or time in a facility until-," he detailed.

"Neither of those is an option," Jake interrupted.

"But you do not deny guilt," Dr. Cumming commented.

"Dr. Cumming, Jake is being pursued by a corrupt, international political group that seek to silence him permanently. Holding him anywhere would be signing his death warrant," I redirected the conversation. "Guilt or no guilt."

"Is that so?" the doctor raised his head inquisitively as if he didn't believe it. "Without knowing the full situation, I cannot give any recommendations at this time, but if Jake's life is indeed endangered, then we must take that into account in our journey together. In coming here tonight, you've already taken the significant first steps and for that I commend you, Jake. Now if you would enter my office, let's continue that positive movement."

The doctor gestured to his private office for Jake to enter. I turned towards Jake. He clearly was still not sold on the situation. He looked at me and his expression softened. Sighing he walked towards the back office and went through the doorway with one last glance over his shoulder before disappearing from view.

"Please make yourself comfortable here," Dr. Cumming waved around the waiting room. "But before we get started, is there anything you would like to tell me?"

"Um, no, I think it's best for everything to come from Jake," I shrugged as I sat down in a seat hidden from the front door.

"Then let me be more direct. Care to explain your bandages?" Dr. Cumming asked out of concern.

"Oh, uh, that's a long story," I replied nervously. "Wait, you think Jake caused these?"

"It would be irresponsible for me to overlook any bodily harm in either one of you," the doctor explained.

"Jake didn't do this! I did! No wait, let me explain. I was trying to save Jake. There was this fire, my hands were tied, and he was having an episode," I tried leave out as much detail as possible.

"Your hands were tied? Was that consensual?" the doctor frowned.

"No. But no, Jake wasn't the one that tied them! As I said it's a long story," I pinched the bridge of my nose. It was getting harder to keep the story brief.

Dr. Cumming paused for a moment while he took a moment to think. "The fire at the warehouse last night? You were there?"

"Oh, um, yes we were," I responded nervously.

"Several bodies were found. Not all of them were burnt," he frowned.

"You know about that?" I questioned. "I didn't see that reported in the news."

"My cousin is a coroner for the city," he answered honestly. "She found the state of some of those bodies rather concerning."

Conflicted, I burst out, "Those gangbangers had abducted Jake and were trying to force him to hack to get them money!"

"So you believe their deaths were justified?" he raised his eyebrow.

"They attacked me!" I exclaimed.

Dr. Cumming kept pushing, "Would you say you were outnumbered and in fear for your lives?"

I lowered my shoulders in relief that we had an understanding, "Yes."

Dr. Cumming nodded then moved towards his private office. "Give us an hour."