She rocked Aidan quietly, listening to the chorus of heart monitors, never a rhythmic unison but always the sounds of life struggling around her. Aidan had been demanding but satisfied as she burped him and held him against her, the small nape of his neck close to her lips as she kissed him softly. She smiled, seeing the small, seashell shape to his ears, knowing somehow that they were definitely going to be Tyler ears. She wondered what color his eyes would turn out to be as she studied the long lashes that fanned across his pushed up cheek against her shoulder. At times, she marveled that she had created this tiny being, her and Rollie. Sometimes, it seemed like yesterday to her- Manny and Rollie together and she, darting behind the sets, playing pranks. But always, the tall, handsome Rollie Tyler had possessed her spirit and her heart.

A soft prayer whispered against her son’s sleeping head was made as she looked up at the clock and realized that the time was approaching for some word of the surgery. She released Aidan back to the nurse who placed him back now in his open crib. He no longer had IV’s or any assisted breathing devices. He only had the heart monitor attached once back in the crib.

As Angie made her way down the corridor to the waiting room, she saw Mira sitting in the corner and with her, Michael. He was sitting across from her, leaning over, his hands together in front of him and was talking in a low, soft voice to her. Angie walked over to Francis and he hugged her gently with one arm around her shoulder.

"How’s my godchild?" he asked, grinning.

Angie grinned, "He was hungry but I took care of that…the pediatrician said that by the end of the week, he can come home."

Francis smiled and took her hand; "And then the fun really begins!"

She rolled her eyes and Francis could see her nervousness, feel the slight tremble in her hand as he covered it with his other hand; "He’s going to be fine, Angie. I don’t trust Michael further than I can throw him, but I gotta go with him on this one. I can’t see why he would risk being here with us and not think this surgery would help Rollie."

"But what does he want, Francis? What does he really want out of all of this? I have always wanted to know that. He says he wants his freedom, safety for Mira and yet…" Angie’s voice trailed off as she studied the couple who were talking intensely to each other.

"Mira can take care of herself, I think he has always known that. But I think he will never let go of her. I think she has finally gotten over him through," Francis observed as they both glanced again at the couple and then, grew silent.

"I have to wonder what’s next, Francis? I mean, Rollie went through so much in that torture chamber, that debriefing…could he just one day, break down from this? He is refusing to see the psychiatrist, did he tell you?"

"Yeah, but he’ll come around. Heck, he just escaped or whatever, and his wife was giving birth and someone offers him his eyesight back! That’s a lot to handle and I think he might just be riding high right now. There will be a low, Angie. You know that as well as me," Francis warned.

Angie wiped back a tear, her emotions so uncontrollable in the past couple of days. Francis hugged her again as Mira stood up from her sequestered corner and came over to join them. Michael sat alone then, looking out the window. He had not made eye contact with Angie since she had come into the room.

"Hey, how ya holding up?" she asked Angie, and Angie could see the slightly swollen eyes, the puffiness and the redness to them.

"I’m okay…but you don’t look so good, Mira. You okay?" Angie asked, as Mira sunk down into the couch beside her.

"Yeah, I will be…" she remarked, looking across the room to her former husband, his face medically altered, his life someone else’s.

"So…what’s Michael going to do now?" Angie asked, a little tentatively as she felt Mira’s emotions out further.

Mira slapped her hand down on her thigh in exasperation, chuckling, "Well, you know- I guess what he does best!"

Angie raised her eyebrows slightly as Francis looked over to the window, trying to not overhear the conversation but as interested as Angie. He worried for Mira, even though they fought like cats and dogs sometimes. Mira was still his partner and his friend.

"Oh, jeez- he wants to be a part of my life…but I don’t want him in my life anymore. There’s been too much between us and even though I believe him when he says he was pulled into this thing and well, had to do certain things…there’s a part of me that wonders why he came back after getting himself free of it all. I mean, he told me he was basically free when he left Costa Rica. Why come back, go for these files, light a match inside a gasoline tanker and then stand there?"

"Great imagery," Francis remarked, smiling as Mira frowned at him and he decided to butt out.

"Men!" she snapped.

Angie looked over to Michael who was staring at her and she barely smiled back as he ran a hand through his short cropped hair and looked down at his shoes.

Rollie was dreaming…he was running and it was so hot that he was dripping with perspiration. He was being chased, running through the Outback as sounds of the wild surrounded him, haunting him. Usually, he felt safe among the wild, knowing his way but the sounds now had human voices as he felt the dizzying sensation of nausea and spinning at the same time.

"Do you know where you are?" asked the voice, a female’s voice above him.

"Boonies…" he replied, trying to sniff the wind for scent.

"Okay…Mr. Tyler? Hey, time to wake up- tell me where you are?" asked the voice again.

He reached out touching something, fleshy and warm. His eyes fluttered and then a man’s voice, the accent familiar- the crisp, German accent was loud and clear. His eyes opened and he put his hand up to shield his eyes for there was light!

"Get ready!" the German accented voice warned to others nearby; "do you have the Valium?"

"Yes," and Rollie suddenly felt a warm sensation in his arm as his eyes opened again, the blinding light- the pure, white light. His arms reached out waiting for the feel- the comfort of his small, four-foot prison but there was open air and he felt as though he was falling.

"Oh God! I can’t stand it, I can’t stand it!" he yelled out but his arms were already feeling like lead and falling to his sides as his voice began to slur and he felt the relaxation of his muscles and the calmness take over.

"Open your eyes, Rollie…the light is gone, isn’t it?"

Rollie shook his head, "No!"

Brabon repeated; "Open your eyes, the surgery is over. You are not in your cell. You are in the hospital. Your wife is waiting to see you. You want to see her and your son…"

With some effort, due to the relaxed feeling he was having, he blinked excessively, fearfully as he tried to open his eyes. He could see now that the intense light was gone but what was he seeing? Shapes and geometrical images, darting back and forth registered in his brain. Colors streaked across as the images left, leaving ghost traces in their place.

"Uh, what? What’s happening here?" he asked, panicked.

"Your brain is roadmapping the images that are being routed by the diode array in your retina from the intraocular cameras in your lenses. It takes time, like retraining the brain to store these images and soon, very soon- there will be recognition and …"

Rollie could see something now, the fleshy thing he was feeling was a hand. The smile on his face was all that Brabon needed to know that he was seeing something.

Rollie looked up, the face that he was seeing coming into focus more clearly, more acute. The German physician was staring down at him nodding his head.

"And what do you see?" he asked Rollie.

"I see a man, you have a mole on your left cheek. You are wearing glasses and by the looks of it, should get a haircut and a shave soon," Rollie remarked as his eyes were taking in everything in the room now. He tried to sit up in bed, but the nurse gently pushed him down.

"Yes, a haircut and a shave would be wonderful, Mr. Tyler. But you must stay flat on your back, sir- for twenty-four hours. You understand, the ocular pressure has to stay constant. After that, I will check you again. For now, I want you to rest. Close your eyes and just sleep, understand?" Brabon instructed him.

"Yes, understand and thank you…thank you…" Rollie replied and drifted off to sleep as the nurse finished the Valium slow push into the IV.

Angie was on her feet, the sharp incisional pain triggered by the rapid movement, jarring but she didn’t care at the moment. Dr. Brabon had walked into the waiting room. He looked haggard and worn out as he approached her. Michael exchanged a look with Brabon who nodded and smiled slightly but Michael stayed where he was as the German doctor placed his full attention on Angie.

"We have a seeing man in the recovery room!" he stated, rubbing his chin as Angie almost squealed her pleasure and her release of anxiousness at him.

"He will need to stay flat on his back for twenty-four hours and once that is over, he can go home. He had no trouble in seeing me in the recovery room. I will follow-up with him in the morning," Brabon continued and then stopped, looking back at Michael, sighing slightly, " and now, I will leave you. I have business with that man, there."

He nodded to Michael and Angie smiled at Brabon, taking his hand; "Thank you, Dr. Brabon!"

"Don’t thank me, remember- I was one of the kind, that blinded men like your husband at one time," and he walked away from her abruptly as she stood there, shocked. Mira had taken her by the shoulders and Francis was patting her on the back as well.

Angie would never understand that the men that did these things, supposedly worked for the government and her protection. She saw Brabon take Michael aside. Neither man seemed particularly friendly to each other at the moment. They exchanged some words and then Dr. Brabon started to leave.

"Dr. Brabon, may I ask you something?" Angie asked, leaving Mira and Francis and walking out into the hall with him.

"What else could you ask? he asked, arrogantly as he barely made eye contact with her now.

"Why? Why did you do these things…did they have something over you? Were you threatened as well? What kind of government does these things to their people?"

"You have probably heard this before, Mrs. Tyler but since you will not leave me alone, here it is again…eternal vigilance is the price of freedom…" he told her firmly, and walked away, leaving her with an uneasy, unresolved, feeling. The feeling that where he had come from and where he was going was the same, a shadow world.

Rollie woke again in the recovery room later that afternoon. He lay in the dark, for the lights had been turned out in the small, isolation room they had placed him in earlier. He blinked again, seeing no light, no color or any images.

"Oh God, it’s gone!" he blurted out, and almost jumped up in bed, but remembered that he was suppose to lie flat. He then realized that his hands, waist and feet had been secured in restraints. He heard nothing but his own voice but as he opened his eyes again, he was amazed. He could see objects like the bed rail, a small table and the outline of the frame of the door but it was as if he had night vision goggles on; the image outlines in colors of cold versus hot, like infra-red projections, were now displaying. There was one hot image and it was moving toward him. He shivered slightly as the outline of a human head, red and orange, with bluish edges stood before him.

"So, now you know how I look in the dark, Rollie…" the familiar voice said to him.