"Happy Deathday to you, Happy Deathday to you, Happy Deathday Dear Drew, Happy Deathday to you." Sings Marko, accompanied by a maniacal smiling laughter.

Marko is a definite psychopath. I'm cursing myself; I should have ensured he was sedated at night. But it's too late now. Again, complacency has caught us, and kicked us in the goolies, again.

Drew is just one clean swipe away from his end.

There is nothing I can do. Engaging with Marko's sense of humanity is futile, as he doesn't have any. Also, any kind of pleading for Drew's life will be music to his evil ears, and I can't give him that pleasure.

So Tan and I remain silent, our eyes fixed on Drew's; we try to impart warmth, love and empathy in his final moments. When his eyes retract into their sockets, we know he's resigned, relaxed to his fate. Tan and I have been in his situation - near death brings: calm, peace, and a longing for a swift passing.

"I liked your mother, Marko," says Tan.

Her words take me by surprise.

He spouts another roaring laugh, "Liked her enough to slice her in two," he sneers.

Tan is calm, "I believe she wanted to die. She regretted how deeply entrenched in The Surgeon's world she'd become." She moves one step closer, "Surely you don't want to become likewise, trapped. Why not free yourself of the hold they have on you." She reaches out her arm, slowly, "Give me the knife, Marko," she says, softly.

My heart rate raises, "Tan, go easy, step back," I say. But she raises her hand; in a 'trust me' type gesture. My head's alert, my body and baseball bat primed.

Marko removes the blade from Drew's neck and extends it toward Tan's outstretched hand. She moves forward, with slow, tentative baby steps.

My heart's banging in my head; it's difficult to second-guess a psycho.

Tan stops when the scalpel is hovering over the palm of her hand.

I keep my body tight, my eye on the blade, mindful that one swipe could open her radial artery, and she'll bleed to death. But I won't let that happen.

The sound of our: short, heavy breathes, punctuate the tense atmosphere.

It happens in a split second - all I see is the flash of blade speeding through the lamplight, followed by a splash of spurting red.

"Aaaaah - you douche!" Exclaims Tan, as she's hit with the delayed pain of the slice across the palm of her hand, that Marko has just inflicted.

I snatch her back into me, rip off my t-shirt, and as I wrap it around the wound, I note it's not too deep, a surface slice. He's playing with us.

"It's game on, Mad Marko!" I say, while wrapping my shirt tight around Tan's hand.

But, when I look back up, I see something weird, "Tan, look at Marko!"

His arm is still outstretched, but he's dropped the scalpel. And, it's his eyes we notice. They're swiveling back in his head, until we just see the whites.

Drew stands bolt upright, staring ahead, his body kind of quivering.

A sound seeps from Marko, like a low-level whistle, which stops, when his knees buckle and he drops, but doesn't quite hit the floor. He's kinda just hanging, his head lolling by Drew's side.

Drew begins to walk forward; with Marko dragging behind him, as if they're somehow attached.

When Drew turns slightly, we can see that they are attached.

Drew's hand is clamped tight around Marko's crotch; the veins in his arms bulge with exertion as he pulls. Then, with a sudden, swift movement, he twists Marko's boy bits in a violent, almost 360 degree rotation. The accompanying, rip and tear sound, makes me flinch, and my eyes water. OUCH!

When Drew eventually lets go, Marko slumps to the ground.

Drew looks at us, "That's called retribution," he says, with a smile.

I look at Marko, then up at Drew, "Is he dead?" I ask.

Drew answers with authority, "Probably not. I inflicted testicular torsion, my sudden twist cut off the blood-supply to his testicles, which has made him pass out. And hopefully I've given him a bell-clapper-deformity," he says, matter of factly.

"Bell-clapper-deformity, what's that?" Asks Tan. The exact same question hovering on the tip of my tongue.

Drew turns Marko over, so he's lying on his back, "Put simply, I've ripped his balls out of their sockets. He did the same thing to all of my peers, before he castrated them. He found it funny. Now he knows how funny it isn't." Says Drew, bending down and opening Marko's jeans.

"Wait, what are you doing Drew?" I ask.

"I need to check the damage I've inflicted, we may need to get him to a trauma unit, if you would like him to survive?" He says.

Tan and I look at each other, she speaks first, "He's more valuable to us alive than dead," she says.

"Ditto," I reply.

Drew and I get him on a gurney. "Do you have scissors?" Asks Drew.

Tan fetches a pair and hands them to him without question. "What do you want those for, Drew?" I ask, slightly alarmed.

"I need to cut it off," he answers.

"Whoah - no Drew, just NO! You can't do that. I mean, I understand what you did to disable him, but cutting it off would be stooping to their level, and we don't ever want to go there," I say, glancing at Tan for support.

Tan looks at me, then Drew, "Cut what off, Drew?" She asks.

He looks at us, slightly puzzled, "His Topknot. I want to see if it's in some way relevant," he answers.

Phew, I smile, "Good thinking Drew - go for it." I like this guy, not only is he physically super-fit, but he has insight and intelligence that's invaluable to us.

We watch as Drew struggles with the scissors, "He's got thick hair," I observe. Drew eventually breaks through and pulls the Topknot away. He observes it closely, "It's not all hair," he says.

Tan and I draw closer, "What is it?" Asks Tan.

Drew studies it, his eyes working almost microscopically, "Wires mixed with hair." He examines the top of Marko's head, "It's as I figured; his Topknot's like a highly sophisticated antennae. It allowed him communicate with Kelvin's Imp, which explains how the Imp knew Kelvin's name." Explains Drew.

"And how the thing knew to free him," I add.

"Can we be absolutely sure about this, I mean are we sure Marko is 100 percent human?" Asks Tan, cautiously.

Drew is certain, "Oh, he's human not hybrid, unfortunately. It appears the Topknot does enable him have some sort of sensory connection to the Imp, rather like a wide reaching Wi-Fi connection," observes Drew. He continues to examine Marko's head, "But we need your mother's expertise to get a full report and accurate insight into this technology."

He lifts his head and looks at us, "Now, I understand the phrase, "Beware the Topknot' a little more. It would seem that followers wearing Topknots will be dispatched to have control over the Imps that are to be launched on London's children."

Whilst on the subject of children, we hear the familiar pitter-patter of an approaching Kelvin, and all three of us turn to greet him.

His little face is furled with fury as he cradles the Imp into him, "Who killed my Imp?" He hollers.

I put my arm around him, "Hey dad, keep your voice down, it's the middle of the night, the others are still sleeping," I say, in an effort to calm him.

He stomps his foot, "I don't care who is sleeping," he shouts, before bursting into sobs, "Why'd you kill my Imp? You guys are too mean, I hate you all," he cries.

Gently, I take the Imp from his arms, "How'd you know it's dead? Maybe it's sleeping, or he might be sick," I say.

He shakes his head, "No, I was petting him and playing with him just a few minutes ago, then all of a sudden it let out a gasp, fell over and died, right in front of my eyes. I need to see a grief counselor," he says, demandingly.

Tan, Drew and I, give each other a knowing glance, and we try our best not to smile. It looks like we're making pretty good in-roads into how they intend these Imps to work. It's early days, but this is a significant finding.

Tan takes over little Kelvin, taking him onto the couch and doing her best to comfort him.

Drew turns to me, "Kade, can you help me remove Marko's jeans and pants? I need to take a look at his penis and scrotum," he says.

"That's not something I savor, Drew. But yes, I understand your need to inspect the damage, and of course I'll help," I say.

Standing between Marko's legs, I grab both sides of his jeans and yank them down; when he lets out a low-level groan, I yank a second time, revealing his alarmingly blue, and swollen genitals - shocker!

"What an earth is going on here?" Troy's startled voice halts me. I'm topless, between Marko's legs, pulling his pants down; not a good scene to walk into, having just woken up. "It's not what you think, Troy!" I say, turning to him with a smile.

He rubs his eyes and ruffles his head. I leave Drew to inspect a slowly waking Marko, while I approach Troy, "You've slept through an eventful time," I say, sitting him down to explain the nights events.

Kelly and mom join us, and despite the early hour, there is a celebratory atmosphere.

Little Kelvin has cried himself to sleep, giving mom the opportunity to study the Imp, and Marko's Topknot. She's super excited about these latest developments and is eager to find out more.

While we wait for one of our Secret Service Medics to arrive and attend to Marko's genital injury, Tan and I cuddle on the couch.

I'm feeling optimistic, full of hope and good vibes, "Let's go on a date day tomorrow," I say, stroking Tan's cheek.

"You mean today," she says.

"Oh yeah, it is today - so, let's take in a museum, go for a real nice lunch, followed by a long walk in Hyde Park," I suggest.

She snuggles into me, "That sounds awesome."

"Then, we should book back into the hotel suite, so we can make love for as long and as loud as we like," I say, lifting her face up to mine, "is it a deal?"

"Signed, sealed and delivered," she smiles.

Tony interrupts our moment of discrete intimacy with his matter of fact tone, "Tanya, I have been made alerted to an issue currently developing in Chicago, which we all need to be aware of," he says, placing his lap top on the table.

We all sit up, "This news item has been sent to me by our Chicagoan team mates and Drew's colleagues, Blaine and Chad, who are working on our behalf."

He presses play.

It's a local Chicago news item. The female anchor addresses the camera with an impartial professionalism: "A prominent member of Government has decided to go public over a recent assault and robbery he suffered while seeking the services of a prostitute in downtown Chicago.

During this assault, the Government Official received severe testicular trauma and injury, for which he is still being treated. On his decision to go public a spokesman says, 'Whilst my client realizes his wrong-doing in purchasing the services of a prostitute, he wishes to highlight the fact that a highly dangerous lady is on the loose, and she needs to be caught and taken into custody before she strikes again.'

The suspected prostitute can be clearly seen and identified in these CCTV images, and members of the public are urged to contact the relevant authorities with any details of her whereabouts."

When the series of images are shown on the screen, my mouth goes dry, my eyes blur, and I start sweating - It's like my skin is crying.

I turn away from the images on screen, "Tan, what's going on here, you went with a guy for money, you were a prostitute?"

She sits up, "No, I wasn't!"

"Tan, that's you, bending down at that guy's car, smiling. That's you, getting into his Mercedes, still smiling. Please Tan, explain this to me? I'm hurting right now." I assert.

When she looks away from me, and turns silent, I'm hit with an overwhelming feeling of nausea.

I take her shoulder, "Tan, talk to me."

But she shrugs me away, and curls up in a fetal position, like she's shutting me out.

"Hey Tan, I know this might be something else, like the way I misread you with Topknot guy," I say, stroking her hair, supportively.

She slowly unfurls, her eyes are puffy and swollen, her voice low and sad, "No, what she says, and what you see, is what I did," she whispers.

My eyes sting and prickle as my head tries to deal with this.

I shake my head, "No Tan, please say this isn't true, I don't think I can deal with it..."