Gene Polanski, Male, 45

	- Business VP, husband of Tamara, father of Lauren, Finch, and Logan

	- tanned beige skin, 6'1, 210lbs, short peppered grey-black hair

Tamara Khouri-Polanski, Female, 43

	- Professor, wife of Gene, mother of Lauren, Finch, and Logan

	- dark olive skin, 5'6, 150lbs, shoulder-length curly rich brown hair with natural red highlights

Lauren Khouri-Polanski, Female, 15

	- High school freshman, daughter of Gene and Tamara, sister of Finch and Logan

	- medium olive skin, 5'8, 150lbs, back-length curly black-brown hair, colored white-streaked highlights

Finch Khouri-Polanski, Male, 14

	- Eigth-grader, son of Gene and Tamara, brother of Lauren and Logan

	- dark olive skin, 5'6, 145lbs, ear-length curly rich brown hair with natural red highlights

Logan Khouri-Polanski, Male, 12

	- Sixth-grader, son of Gene and Tamara, brother of Lauren and Finch

	- medium olive skin, 5'1, 110lbs, ear-length straight black hair

Holly Bridgewater, Female, 19

	- Agent of Marker 1, sister of Anna

	- Bronze-tanned skin, 5'1, 100lbs, straight shoulder-length straw-blonde hair

Anna Bridgewater, Female, 22

	- Agent of Marker 1, Sister of Holly

	- Bronze-tanned skin, 5'2, 120lbs, straight shoulder-length straw-blonde hair

Marcus Hannigan, Male, late-30s

	- Former agent of M1 and Playa Gordo

	- Pale, freckled skin, 5'11, 185lbs, short sandy-red hair

Dr. Erns Henderson, Male, 40ish

	- Associate of Panthea, husband of Juliana, father of Hannah and Georges

	- Dark beige skin, 7'0, 280lbs, unkempt black hair.

Juliana Henderson, Female, 40ish

	- wife of Dr. Henderson, mother of Hannah and Georges

	- Dark tan skin, 5'0, 100lbs, long dark hair

Hannah Henderson, Female, 15

	- daughter of Dr. Henderson and Juliana, twin sister of Georges

	- Dark beige skin, 5'10, 160lbs, long dark-brown hair in a ponytail

Georges Henderson, Male, 15

	- son of Dr. Henderson and Juliana, twin brother of Hannah

	- Dark beige skin, 5'10, 165lbs, mousy dark-brown hair

Panthea (Silk Purse), Female, early 50s

	- A woman with an unknown background

	- Brown-grey skin, 5'7, 140lbs, short curly black-silk hair

Adam (Silver) Silverbaum, Male, late-20s

	- M1 Technician

	- Ashy beige skin, 5'7, 150lbs, ear-length black hair

Marisa, Female, early-30s

	- M1 Technician

	- Light almond skin, 5'3, 110lbs, short dark-brown hair

Bendal, Male, late-30s

	- M1 Technician

	- Pale freckled skin, 5'8, 160lbs, shaved bald head

Aristotle Bridgewater, Male, late-40s

	- Former M1 Executive

	- Bronzed beige skin, 6'2, 185lbs, short blonde hair

"I always thought Rome was a romantic city, at least when I visualized it in my head," Tamara said, sipping strong, bitter coffee at an outdoor cafe a few miles from where she and Hannigan had escaped from the M1 facility largely by luck. After ditching the helicopter and the unconscious medical officer, they had found the small, gated compound largely silent in the night. The gate, if you could call it that, could be opened by hand, and together, the two fled south into the city to try to find a place to regroup and figure out what to do next. "Now, it's just another stop on the Tamara and Hannigan Run For Their Lives Tour."

"You seem to be forgetting about all the romance between priests and little boys going on in the Vatican right now..." Hannigan replied.

"Not funny," Tamara scowled, thoughts of Finch and Logan, Lauren and Gene surfacing regularly, "I just thought I'd visit here one day and not have to assume that every person I see is trying to kill me or take me prisoner."

"Not all of them want to do that," Hannigan laughed, "only some."

"Ha ha," Tamara finished her coffee. "So we're out of people to help us. Erol I left behind before Salzburg. Ingrid... who knows what happened to her..."

"Ingrid?"

"Major Danielson."

"Ah. Didn't realize you two were on a first name basis."

"It's... complicated."

Hannigan chuckled, "Things usually are with you, Tamara. Regardless, we're not completely out of options. When I learned about Victor and Haul coming to find you, I heard something else interesting."

"Do tell..."

"Seems there's a rumor that a big time player in this whole mess is not as dead as once thought. Bridgewater is alive, and the money seems to be on him being in Italy."

"Bridgewater... Holly's father?"

Hannigan nodded.

"Where in Italy?"

The man shrugged, "Not sure."

"Not much to go on, then..."

"No, but it's a start."

Tamara sat silently a moment, then asked, "Why are Haul and Victor working together? Chaster tried to kill him in Romania."

Hannigan shook his head. "I don't know. I'm not sure they are working together. I just got information that they had honed in on your location and were coming for you in the night. In plugging back into a network I hadn't accessed since I was M1 to try to track down my wife, I ran into an old... acquaintance who had some interesting tidbits. Rather lucky I did," he said, staring at Tamara.

She could see the weight of the world in the man's eyes. He was bruised and sore, his face drooping, his red beard patchy and rough. His pale skin looked scorched in places, angry. He'd been willing to face imprisonment and torture to save her. Tamara wondered what Gene would feel when she told him that she'd come to love Marcus. She leaned forward and kissed Hannigan, "I'm rather lucky you took a liking to a naked, scared woman all those weeks ago..."

Marcus offered a week smile, "It is worth it..."

"Do you think they followed us to Rome?"

"Probably. Victor's people won't have missed that bird coming and going."

"The we can't linger.."

"No. Our next move is to see if my acquaintance can get us closer to Bridgewater, if he has indeed returned, and we head for him. Wherever Bridgewater wants to be right now, that's where we want to be."

- - -

"Why can't we just go to him?" Finch asked as they waited in a bustling breakfast cafe on the outskirts of Genoa.

Henderson slammed back his coffee and ate the rest of his danish. "Because, dear boy, we wait for the green light. We're close now. It won't be much longer, I promise. Eat up, we may be moving soon."

Finch nodded, feeling anxious. He'd learned just hours earlier that his father was in Genoa and that they were going to see him. It felt like years since they'd been separated at Victor's mansion. He'd almost given up hope that his father was still alive.

The food was palatable but plastic in his mouth, his nerves and the weeks of running had made that part of each day less than satisfying. Finch longed to go somewhere safe, like the Henderson's farm, where he could just escape and relax, especially if Lauren and Hannah would be there to let him play with their pussies. That thought brought a small smile to his face before he remembered his father again. So much had changed since he'd last seen the man. Finch wondered how he could tell him any of what had happened over that time.

There was still no news of his mother, and that worried him a lot. Since their split, it had been hard to learn anything about her whereabouts. Finch hoped that, maybe, she had managed to find her way to Genoa, as well, and would be waiting for them there.

"Alright," Henderson proclaimed, "finish up. We're heading for a hotel nearby to wait this out in five minutes. A good friend of mine will be meeting us there on a schedule, and she's not keen on being kept waiting."

Finch gobbled down the rest of his breakfast, felt his stomach jump at the man's words, and tried to not worry too much about what was going to happen that day. He chuckled to himself. Every day since they'd started running had been a new experience, a new challenge. It seemed this day wouldn't be so unusual.

- - -

The safe house in Genoa was little more than a rustic cottage set on a small rise and tucked into a forest of dense hardwoods which had likely been planted only in the last few decades, the trunks set in tight rows and carefully placed to give a sense of calm isolation.

Gene was anything but calm as he sat on the small deck on the backside of the house, trees shading the morning sunlight, coffee cup half-empty in his hand. He was alone for the moment. Bridgewater was locked in a room with his daughters, assumedly answering for why he'd let Holly think he was dead for a couple of years, and for why Anna seemed to know their father was alive and appeared to have helped engineer his untimely demise.

The rest of them were waiting to meet with a man named Oscar who was Bridgewater's second. Gene would rather have been in with Holly to hear her father's explanations, but it was a family matter as much as anything, so he waited behind when they'd gone into the bedroom together moments earlier.

A very short man wearing a dark, tight uniform, sporting a mustache and rich-tanned skin, came outside and said, "Everybody on me," then stepped back into the house. Gene followed him inside. He saw Marisa, Bendal, and Silver there, as well as four other men and two women he had not yet met. "For those who don't know me," the man said, "call me Oscar. Right now, we're in a fluid situation. Timing is everything. Plan right now is to hold here for no more than twelve hours, probably much less, then we move, destination to be decided. Questions?"

Gene looked around and when no one spoke, he said, "Any news of my family?"

"The good news is your children are on their way."

Gene's stomach jumped. "Thank God..."

"Less good news is we're still not sure where your wife is. She was in Salzburg as of last night, but we've lost contact with her. We're working on it."

"Thank you!" Gene exclaimed, his thoughts full of hope for the first time in weeks.

"Shay?" a deep baritone voice called from behind him. Gene turned to see Bridgewater in the doorway to the bedroom. "We need to talk."

Gene stepped inside the room and the tall man closed and locked the door. Bridgewater shook his hand, "Sorry we don't have time for formals, but I have to say I'm happy to see you. This has been a wild chase to get you here."

"Tell me about it."

"Regardless, you deserve to know why all this centers on you."

"I've had that thought..."

"It doesn't center on you."

"Huh?"

Bridgewater shifted his feet, replying, "You're important, but you're only the key."

"Um... po-tay-toes po-tah-toes..."

"No, I mean, you're the key to what they really want to know. It's the person who holds the information they really want."

"Not following you," Gene said, narrowing his eyes.

"You don't know what they want destroyed, not directly, at least," Bridgewater's voice dipped lower. "It's your wife they really want dead."

- - -

The hotel room was dank and dark, old curtains and furniture and artwork which looked like it could have been bought at a US dollar store. Lauren rested on the bed, her brothers wrestling on the floor. They had a room to themselves, the twins and their parents down the hall a few doors. The hotel was almost at full capacity, and Lauren could hear hurried conversations just outside the room.

The people talking moved on and Lauren watched her brothers a moment before she sighed and turned over onto her stomach to try to relax. Her dad was on her mind. Would she really get to see him again? It was hard to believe. The weeks apart had put a distance to that dream, but it had also added fuel to a fire which had been burning ever since the days spent at Victor's mansion.

"Hey," Finch called out as he sat on the bed, "can I ask you something?"

Lauren turned back, "I suppose."

"Would you, you know... really fuck Mom?"

Lauren grinned, "Yeah... I think so..."

"Me too," Finch proclaimed. "And... you know... Dad, too?"

"God yes," Lauren breathed before she could think. "I mean... yeah... why not?"

Logan jumped on the bed, saying, "I want to watch!"

Lauren stuck out her tongue, "Perv."

"You're one to talk," Logan shot back, "you want to get in bed with Dad!"

She realized that Finch had started to stroke her thigh, and the sensation was just pleasant enough to bring a small moan from her throat.

- - -

Logan watched as Finch began to pull Lauren's pants down. The boy's pecker was out in seconds, hard as usual, a bit sore, still, but that didn't keep Logan from playing with it. Lauren turned towards him and smiled, nodding him closer. Logan moved so that his penis was just inches from his sister's face, then she sucked him in, pulling him into her with her hand on his buttocks.

He started to feel light and wonderful as Lauren slobbered on his little dick. Finch had gotten naked and was sliding his body over Lauren's, her legs together, his feet spread and his hips straddling her thighs. While he watched his brother penetrate his sister's pussy, Logan spurted a jet of precum against her tongue.

- - -

Finch liked this position. He was only partially holding himself up with his hands and toes, most of his weight on his sister's body. His cock was inside her tight, wet vagina and he mated with her as she moaned around their brother's dick. Finch humped Lauren quickly, her moans growing louder. He felt her clenching around his length, her legs straining below, and then she bucked up against him four or five times as she climaxed.

Finch let go, trying not to cry out loudly, spurting his seed into his sister's gash, filling her with slippery sperm until it ran out around his penis. He rested over Lauren as he squeezed the last drops into her cunt, watching as his sister sucked Logan's cock.

- - -

Dad... Cum in me Dad... Lauren wasn't thinking about Finch when she orgasmed. No, she imagined it was her father thrusting inside her narrow vagina. When Finch unloaded into her pussy, Lauren creamed herself pretending it was her dad instead. Finch finished and Lauren sucked harder on Logan's little dick. It really got hard these days, like all the practice had made Logan's erections stronger.

By the time he filled her mouth with cum, Lauren was already back on fantasies of her dad, wishing it was his cock between her lips, his salty spunk splashing against her tongue, his incestuous seed being flushed down her throat.

- - -

"What do you mean?!" Gene all but shouted.

"Calm down, Shay, I'll get to it."

"Don't call me that," Gene growled.

"Apologies. Gene. Listen a moment. I can tell you what I know. Sit. Please."

Holly and Anna were on the bed, seated on opposite sides. Gene sat at the foot while Bridgewater slowly paced.

"I don't know everything," he began, "but I think I know how to get to everything. When you were at Whitehead, you and Utah and Poppy were working a job for a guy you knew as the Chancellor. Ring any bells?"

Gene's head throbbed and he brought a hand to his right temple. "Maybe..."

"Victor was the Chancellor. He was using you three to move money to an organization called Forward. A lot of money."

"I...," Gene rubbled his forehead, "Maybe..."

"I think Victor was working on a way to kill off billions of people at once. I'm still not sure how, but Forward was a shell of an organization which has very difficult to dissect. No one is completely sure what they do or what Victor was buying."

"So they killed Utah and tortured Poppy. And they want me dead because I know something? Or... rather, my wife knows something and I know how to get it?"

"Mostly right," the man replied, "Utah's not dead."

Holly exclaimed, "What?"

Bridgewater shook his head, "He's not dead, but we're getting sidetracked. Baron Quick did something to you to make you forget about Forward. He did it to Poppy, too, but somehow, Utah escaped that treatment, whether by collusion or agility, I don't know. Quick effectively hid your memories, but he didn't want them erased. Victor was getting sniffed out and he needed to ensure there were no loose ends regarding Forward. So, there's information he had implanted in your wife's head. I don't know what, and right now, I'm pretty sure she doesn't either. It wasn't just the two of you. There were four other pairs of keys and secrets."

"Let me guess," Gene muttered, "my wife and I are the only ones still alive..."

Bridgewater nodded, saying "And you, Gene, have got the only key left to open whatever she's holding. Ingenious, really, it meant that anyone wanting to get at the information had to figure out who held it, but also who held the key. It took me until about two months ago to figure that out, myself."

Bridgewater leaned down and looked at Gene evenly. "What happens when I say the word Minover."

Gene's head bucked backwards as his brain caught on fire. It lasted only a second or two, but it was excruciating. "God damn it!" Gene shouted, "Fucking Christ!"

"Sorry," Bridgewater said, his tone and expression unchanged, "I had to be sure. It's a mnemonic, an acronym, for a phrase that opens up the key. I've been trying to work it out, and it was only three days ago that I believe I might have gotten close..."

Bridgewater's gaze was piercing as he leaned forward, tilting his head. "What happens when I say... massive investigational narrow-gauge option, verified endpoint recorded."

Gene pitched over onto his side, headache forgotten, and blacked out.