"Where the heck are we?"

Rebecca Kane looked around with trepidation - the darkened buildings and broken streetlights stood silent and foreboding.

"We're on top of the former Cyberus headquarters," Americana said simply, dumping the unconscious body of the faux-Americana beside an aging chimney.

"Oh." Kane felt for her revolver - little good would it do against her.

Maybe that's why Americana had brought them here - she and her would-be assassin. To where no one would see her kill them both. Make it look like the faux-Americana had succeeded and -

She shook her head. Don't be ridiculous!

Americana was kneeling beside her double, fingers on her neck.

"Mind telling me why you socked her? Why you brought us here?"

"Didn't have anything to tie her up with.

"And much as I hate to think it, whoever sent her probably has friends on the force." Americana sighed and stood up. "How else do you explain them knowing where to send her?"

Rebecca bristled a bit. How would she -

"And the police - well, there are certain areas the police just don't go. This is one of them."

Kane blinked. "Hate to'? The way she spoke. Her confidence.

She was a cop.

Or maybe she was married to one. Didn't matter. She was part of the family.

"I figure we have a limited amount of time to act - maybe five, six hours," Americana was saying.

"How do you figure?" Rebecca asked. She felt better by the second. A cop.

"Well, since your 'death' won't be reported on the eleven o'clock news, they'll suspect a cover-up or a delay to contact your relations first. By the time six o'clock tomorrow morning rolls around, they'll be expecting some coverage - all the more so since it was so spectacular. Jumped or pushed off the Reagan building?

"So we have a window of opportunity."

"Okay, so-o-o..." the black woman slowly looked around her. "Why... here?"

Americana folded her arms. "You tell me. You said to meet you on top of the Reagan building."

"Oh. Yeah... I went up to the rooftop, a little bit early - habit of mine I suppose. You, or rather she, showed up, surprised me with a sucker punch to the face. I was too shocked and dazed to fight back. She kept hitting me, then threw me off the roof.

"That's where you came in."

"She say anything?"

"Probably - though I was too busy getting my face socked to pay much attention."

Americana nodded; that feeling was not unknown to her.

"I was actually more interested in hearing why you wanted to meet me there."

Kane opened her mouth, then shut it again. She put her hand to her mouth and took a few steps to the left.

"Okay, this is gonna sound... look, try not to get too angry, huh?

"It sounded right at the time..."

Americana nodded.

"All right. When... you first showed up, last year, well, not everyone was thrilled. Not just criminals, either. Good people. A lot of us... didn't know what to make of you. It was kind of hard to believe that you'd just want to run around and 'fight crime'. There had to be more to you than that.

"Then this... man appeared. Called himself Mordecai. Weird name..."

"Mm. Old Jewish hero. Book of Esther, I believe," Americana mused.

"Huh. Anyway. Mordecai claimed to be from the future - crash-landed here with no way to get back. He - look, I know how stupid this sounds. He showed us each, well, things that only a man from the future would know..."

"'Us'?"

"He has... well, the Assembly, it's comprised of people Mordecai found useful. A Senator, newsmen, librarians. generals... a police captain."

"I... see."

"The one thing that he told us all was that our fears were well-founded. That you... well, you eventually became so popular, so powerful, that you took over the country. You thought rules only applied to other people, and... and... well, you're the reason Mordecai was here. To save the future. From you."

Americana sighed. Oh for the love of...

"Wait a minute. You. You're a part of this?"

Rebecca bit her lip. "Not anymore.

"Look, he said just what we wanted to hear. We were a little afraid, okay? But over time... well, I saw how you kept helping people. Saving lives, beating up villains we normal cops had no chance with... well, actions speak louder than words, right?

"I stopped listening to Mordecai, and started looking for a way to warn you. Then came Razorback.

Mordecai said... he predicted you'd be under arrest for nearly killing him. But he also predicted everything else - including the attack on the President - only with you in Razorback's place."

Americana ran her finger behind her ear. "Wait - you're saying - in his scenario, I attacked the President?"

"Not just attacked. Killed."

"But that's - crazy! I'd never - "

"I know! I know that now. Once I saw how you were railroaded for Razorback's injuries... how you saved the President despite that... well, I left the Assembly for good."

She looked at Americana pleadingly. "I'm sorry, all right? It just seemed... so real. Everything he said, everything he did..."

Americana sighed. This Mordecai fellow must be enormously persuasive - or maybe he just chose those with weak minds or -

Weak... minds?

"Ms. Kane..." she said slowly. "Toward the end, there... did you skip any meetings or anything like that?"

"Yeah, I missed a couple - sick one week, then I had to negotiate a hostage sitch. Why?"

Americana thought for a moment. If she had missed the last two meetings, maybe she had missed getting dosed with mind control powers - like those of the Jacquot!

Of course, she could have just been away long enough to start thinking for herself again. Mordecai's predictions seemed close to the mark, but that could be deceiving. She had read up on fortune tellers and futurists, about how they made predictions that could later be interpreted to fit events - was this just more of the same?

"Americana?"

"Hmm? Oh, sorry. Just... thinking."

"Look, I came to you because... well, I didn't know who to trust. I mean, he's got newsmen, politicians, lawyers...

"I thought you should know."

"Thanks," Americana said softly. "You know, that's quite a group to have it in for me, but that's their right. Trying to kill you for telling me, however... that's not.

"I think it's time this Mordecai and I had a little chat."

It was nearly quarter-past eleven when Americana glided toward the small office building on Queen Annes Lane.

Traffic on the neighboring Potomac River Freeway was still fairly heavy, as was the volume on nearby K Street. That it was just blocks from the Watergate Hotel didn't escape her notice.

Mordecai had certainly chosen an active part of town, Americana thought. She guessed that it made a bizarre sort of sense - if you were going to have large numbers of people coming and going you certainly wouldn't want a spot where no-one else was around, would you?

Actually, she reminded herself, she had only Rebecca Kane's word that anything had gone on here at all. Granted, getting beat up and thrown off a building did wonders for her credibility, but still!

Americana grinned.

Okay, enough of the funny stuff, she remonstrated. Time to seriously consider how she was going to get into the building.

The building stood only four stories tall, and wasn't blessed with many windows except along the front. There was a fire escape from the fourth floor, and a rear door leading to a well-lit parking lot.

And, of course, there were always the front doors.

Americana sighed. There were several ways she could get into the building, but almost all of them involved a little breaking and entering - and that was something she just couldn't bring herself to do.

She noted that there were cars in the parking lot. It wasn't unusual - Washingtonians took "night spots" and then moved their cars in the morning, all the time. But there didn't appear to be residences nearby...

The Star-Spangled Sentinel dropped out of the clouds and landed on the front sidewalk. Gingerly, almost timidly, she touched the door handle - and it moved! The door was open!

Swiftly Americana stepped inside. She was in pretty much the same lobby that every medical building in the city used - three or four chairs and a reception desk.

The heroine looked around, cautiously. She walked softly to the elevator, alert to any movement or noise. So far as she could tell, there was none.

She stepped into the elevator and pressed two. Nothing happened.

Great, they've probably got it turned off at night, Americana growled, pounding away at the buttons one through four.

Suddenly the doors shut, quickly, and the elevator began to rise.

Whoa, she started. I must have hit the right buttons or something.

Seconds later the doors opened onto a corridor a bit too wide to be original. She stepped off, looking both ways but seeing no one.

Well, duh, it's after eleven, she thought crossly. At least some bad guys sleep.

There did appear to be some sound coming from double, auditorium style doors.

Well! she thought, stepping up to the doors. If she was wrong she'd make her apologies and leave.

She swung open the door - and her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness.

She was standing on the top step of a very modern auditorium. It probably seated about one hundred fifty people in a dozen rows of very comfortable looking seats, arranged in a half-circle toward the stage.

On the stage was a man of about forty, with sweeping white hair and a dark sweater. He held a pointer and was evidently presenting some Powerpoint slides to about fifteen people in the auditorium.

And he was looking right at her.

Crap.

"Any trouble, Ann-Marie?" he said, looking casually at his watch.

'Ann-Marie'? Who the heck was - ohhhhh!

"Stopped for a Coke," she replied, shaking her head.

"Have a seat, dear," the man said, smiling. "We're almost done here."

Americana sat rather uncomfortably three rows down. What was his angle? She didn't look that much like the faux-Americana he so evidently thought she was. Why didn't he see -

See. That was it. She sometimes forgot - she could see just fine in darkness, but most everyone else could not. Backlit by the open door, she looked just like whom he expected to see.

Oh my - I'm sitting in on a meeting of the very top-secret group that's out to get me!

She had to stifle a grin.

All right, let's see who I recognize. General Ferris. Senator Bingham. City Council member John Schute. Channel Seven's Amy Kenner...

What's this presentation about, anyway? Looks like he's building something...

"...so I need to find another one of those," the man was saying, pointing to a diagram.

"This... time machine, what's to say it won't have an adverse effect on those of us left behind?"

"Simply put, Mr. Schute, there is no way to determine, with one hundred percent certainty, how time will flow around the Paradox. However, as I've stated any times before, I chose you for a reason. I knew you in the days to come, and you were marvelously happy."

"But, Mordecai..."

Americana's eyes widened. She had suspected, of course, but to have the name said made her heart race just a little faster.

Mordecai smiled and sighed. "Yes, Ms. Kenner."

"Forgive me, sir, but I... I don't understand. The Paradox machine... if it allows you to rewrite history... history's already changing."

The white-haired man continued to smile pleasantly as he perched on a stool. "How so?"

"W-well... Americana didn't attack the President," she said, fiddling with her hair. "I mean, that was Razorback. The train-car fire a few months back - "

"Yes, yes - but don't you see? Americana is changing history. I find more and more I am unable to accurately remember what is to come, because what is now and what was then are no longer identical.

"I had hoped to discourage her from taking further action, but over the past year she has become a nexus point, whose very existence threatens our own future. Your... generosity," he extended his hand over the audience, "has made the Paradox possible. Together we can save the future."

"Um, Mordecai, I'm not entirely comfortable with your, ahem, taking care of non-believers, as it were..."

"Senator Bingham," Mordecai spoke as he turned to face the man, "It is a little late to be getting cold feet. Silas Thompson. Allen Loomis. Rebecca Kane. All of whom threatened to expose our little coffee klatch, as it were. To expose... you."

He waved his hand over the audience. "All of you have your reasons that others may not understand, your secrets. All of you have given of yourselves and I thank you for it. But make no mistake - any threat to our work must be dealt with, and quickly, lest exposure harm you."

Holy cow, Americana breathed. He... he practically admitted to killing three people! And his audience was buying it!

"Now, then," Mordecai was saying, "I have purchased the components of an antimatter destabilizer... hmm?"

The auditorium doors burst open to admit a profusely-sweating policeman - Americana recognized him as one of the cops who had been with Captain Kane earlier in the evening.

Uh oh.

"Mordecai, we got a problem. Kane's survived. Ann-Marie's captured and she's singing!"

Mordecai blinked several times.

"Then who," he said, pointing to Americana, "is that?"