Chapter 36

Bella's POV:

I can't sleep.

Every time I close my eyes and drift off into dreamland, it quickly becomes a nightmare with Edward in it. It wasn't always a nightmare per se, but it felt like it to me. I don't want to remember him. But in my dreams, I do. I remember how we first met, the first conversation we had, the first date, and first kiss. He's always in the back of mind when I don't want him to be.

I turned my heard to see Trevor still asleep. He was lying on his stomach on his side of the bed, shirtless. Small scars across his back and arms but he looks younger than he does. No stress, no worry lines on him. I looked back at the ocean. It was dark out, still early in the morning and a few party people were walking but probably heading back to their hotel rooms. I didn't realize that I was playing with the wedding ring and engagement ring until I felt the stone.

"Mama," Trevor groaned. I turned and he was clutching the sheets in a hard grip, his face half smashed against the pillow. "Papa. Run. Connor – no!'

Quickly, I ran back inside. Trevor was still crying out and I put my hand on his arm and all of sudden, I found myself lying on the bed with Trevor above me. His hands around my neck, his fingers smashing against my throat.

"Trev –" I choked. His eyes were open but dazed. I couldn't call out his name and the lack of oxygen was getting to me. I put my hand on his arm and zapped him.

Trevor's grip limped away, and I gasped for air, coughing. "Izzy! I'm – I'm so sorry. I didn't mean – I'm sorry!" He left my side to get me a glass of water. But I waved it away and sat straight up on the bed. "I didn't want to hurt you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Trev, look at me." But he didn't. I placed my hand on his and he flinched away, but I gripped his hand tight. "Look at me. Look at me, Trevor." His beautiful green eyes filled with regret, sadness, and pain stared back at me. "It was an accident. You didn't mean to hurt me – I know that and so should you. It's not your fault that a nightmare took over your senses."

"It was a bad memory," He whispered and gripped my hand back. "I hate seeing them every time I close my eyes."

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked quietly. Trevor rarely talked about the life he had lived before Special Division. He spoke about his family and that they moved to Boston from Ireland for a new life, but years later, he watched Special Division agents murder them in front of his eyes.

But Trevor shook his head and moved his hand away from my death grip. "It's early. You should get some rest. The targets want to have dinner tonight and that is the time to strike."

I nodded my head sadly, hearing the words "target" and "strike." Agent Trevor is back treating people as objects, as assignments that need to be dealt with and not as actual people. He's in assassin mode. Trevor is a great listener to other people's problems but doesn't want to talk about himself. I bet Dahlia loathes that Trevor dodges her psychological questions after all these years. Or maybe she's accepted that about him.

"I'd already went to their rooms and took the numbers from Noah's investors. So, when we do that kill – yes, we do have to Izzy. We should do it after dinner in their hotel room."

"Why do we have to?"

"The investors don't want this coming back at them. You know that." Trevor said. "I'm going to use the hotel's gym; you can go back to sleep."

I sighed and leaned back against the bed as Trevor went to the bathroom to go change. Yup, Agent Trevor is back.

Rosalie's POV

"I don't understand why it's necessary to have this many medical journals and books in an office," I said and thrusted several books on a shelf from the box. Alice pouted at me. "Relax, Alice. I'll rearrange them by date, but I want to get rid of the boxes. It's unacceptable for a doctor like Carlisle to have his office look like this."

I shoved more books onto the shelf, but one fell off and landed crookedly on the floor. Someone wrote something on the first page. It was from Bella:

"To Carlisle, thank you for everything and here's another medical journal for your shelf."

She must have given him this before the breakup. How could one human cause such heartbreak within a family? Then again, how could one human be a magnet for so much trouble? It was unbelievable and infuriating.

I could smell the FBI agents before they rang the doorbell. We could hear that they wanted to speak to Carlisle for a moment and their footsteps echoed down the hall into the kitchen, where our father was helping Esme put away the dishes. I could hear Bella's name in their discussion.

"I can't break patient and doctor –"

"Other doctors in Phoenix had reported that Bella has multiple scars on her bodies. She also received broken bones and ribs in her time over there." Agent Martin said. "Who knows how many she broke in that video?"

Two nights ago, I snuck in with Jasper to the police station to watch any link of evidence of Bella's disappearance. I went because I believed there would've been evidence about what we were, Jasper wanted to see what happened that night.

"I came for you, Isabella."

"My orders were to bring you back alive." The man said in the video.

She had fought him. The man that tried to take her back. Bella didn't want to go back; she would rather die than go back. Alice had told me that Bella can fight but watching her was like watching a panic dog attack a ferocious dog. Genuine fear and pain in her eyes especially when she made it to the stairs, only to be shoved down them.

"Have you asked Sheriff Swan about her past? Do you have a warrant for her medical reports?" asked Carlisle.

I arranged the order of the medical journals and folded the boxes into a pile on the floor. Alice gasped next to me. "I need paper…and pencil." I grabbed them for her.

Her vacant eyes stared ahead as she drew immediately, but she drew on different sheets of paper. None of them made sense and the faces were blurred in grey scratches. But the faces of strangers that were with Bella: a man standing next to her and a woman seated on a chair with her legs crossed.

"What happened, Alice?"

"I don't know," she whimpered, and her fingers traced the pencil drawings. "I couldn't see, and I don't understand what it means. It doesn't make sense. But Bella is still alive."

"But these people? Who are they? Are they dangerous?"

"Dangerous? Yes. But I think…they're trying to protect Bella? Look," Alice took out the first drawing of Bella sitting on a bed with her knees close her chest. "He's near her, half of his body is covering her from someone's sight as if he wanted to block her completely. And this woman," the next drawing. "I don't know about her. But it seems that they're talking."

"Talking?"

Alice huffed, "I can't explain it, Rose. It's all a blur and all connected to Bella. She's alive and that's all that matters."

I kept my mouth shut. My eyes were drawn to Bella's face, the only clear thing that Alice drew. Her jaw was clenched, and her eyes were narrowed – it was the human's annoyed or murderous glare that she sometimes casted on me. I had enjoyed those moments because I could get under her skin, just like she could get under my own.

Bella's POV:

"Next time, I'm picking the wardrobe." I grumbled, fixing my dress in front of the large mirror. Dahlia packed many dresses for me for this short trip, but I chose a black skirt with a floosy white blouse. I left my hair down with moose and hair spray, letting it wavy and wet.

"Can you fight in that outfit?" Trevor asked from behind as he fixed his tie.

I rolled my eyes, "There are pockets. I can easily hide the smallest weapon you give me in there."

"I learned years ago to never question where female agents put their weapons." Trevor commented and put up a small smile. His mood slightly improved after the gym. "To this day, I'm still surprised when they have to wear those pencil dresses."

I snorted. Me too. I can't wear for the day I'm allowed to wear dress pants or when society can go fuck themselves on what they deemed appropriate for a woman to wear. Trevor's eyes lingered on my legs and I rolled my eyes. "Eyes up here, Trev." I snapped my fingers. "Are you ready to go?"

"Will I ever be?"

Trevor didn't say a word, merely nodded his head and held his arm out. I took a breath and took it. Trevor reserved to have a private dinner at a restaurant outside the hotel, about ten-minute walk, and Bridget and Craig were already waiting for us standing in front of the hostess. She led us to upstairs to the balcony with beautiful flowers and bright candles surrounding our table. Four glasses and a large bottle of champagne in the middle of the table and Craig immediately went to open it, yelling that we are on vacation and should continue to celebrate. Trevor pulled my hand to his lips and directed me to take a seat.

We ate dinner just like the other times we had meals with them, but there was a shift in the atmosphere. I couldn't put my finger on it, but Bridget was taking sips from her glass and gave a forced laugh to Craig's jokes. She'd barely conversed with me and instead paid attention to her husband, twirling his hair with her fingers. The act of forced attention put me on edge. Something was definitely wrong.

"It's a beautiful night, don't you think Colleen? Why not go for a walk? These men should walk off the food." She giggled.

I took a sip from my glass of water and nodded. Trevor grabbed my hand and squeezed it. His fingers writing me a message, indicating that he noticed the strangeness coming from the wife. It looked like we might have to move up the time to kill them, as much as I disliked it.

I took off my shoes as we walked on the wooden bridge covered with sand. Below us, I could see the sand and water nearby. It's almost liked the Santa Monica Pier except it's still hot at night and there are no people around. Bridget and Craig walked ahead of us, whispering and holding hands. Bridget walked stiffly with her back straight and her hand underneath Craig's dress shirt, while Craig had his hand on his wife's backside.

"Something's wrong. We need to do it now," whispered Trevor. Abruptly, he shoved me to the ground, and I hissed at the contact of the wood on my knees.

Shots were fired and I rolled behind Trevor's standing body as I took out my gun. Bridget and Craig were shooting at us and hiding behind a metal trash can. Trevor and I stayed low as bullets shot passed us. Soon, they ran out of bullets and they started to run. Trevor called out that he got Craig, which left the lovely Bridget with me as they separated from each other. Good idea, but not a smart move.

I slowed my breathing as I sprinted towards her and shoved her from behind, so she could fall on the bridge. She groaned on her knees but smirked at me. "So, who are you? The FBI? CIA?"

"Not exactly. Think of us working for someone much worse. You and your husband pissed off the wrong people."

I grabbed the punch she directed at my side and twisted her arm, twisting her to lay on her stomach. But Bridget pushed her head back, smashing against mine, and kicked me in the stomach. My legs stumbled back, and I wrinkled my nose at the pain. Her smirk grew. Now, I'm angry. Bridget kept blocking my punches directed at her face and chest, but she didn't anticipate that I would grab onto her hair.

"Bitch!'

"Bitch that you don't want to piss off," I warned. "Stop fighting me. Don't you want to live?"

"Why does it matter? You're going to kill me."

She has a point. "Maybe I can change my boss's mind."

"Or maybe I'll just kill you!"

She pushed us backwards until my back collided against the bridge railway and her elbow slammed against my stomach. She grabbed onto me and pushes us off. We were falling but I released my hold on her hair and backflipped, landing on the sand with my own two feet, embracing the coolness of the sand. Bridget laid on the sand, unmoving but I could see the small rise of her chest.

The small hairs on my arms rose at the sound of bullets being fired.

I whirled around, searching for Trevor on the bridge.

Please don't let it be Trevor.

Please.

A gun clicked behind me.

"Turn around, bitch."

Fuck.

I put my hands up and slowly turned. Bridget had a small gun out, her clothes and hair messy with sand on them.

"Who do you work for?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me, bitch."

I sighed. "Why must you keep calling me that? The first time I understood but now, you're being mean."

"I don't care about hurting your little feelings. You're going to kill me, and I want to know why."

"You know why! What you and your husband did was foolish. Did you really think investors would ignore losing all that money? You want to live?" I pulled my hands down. "You shouldn't have stolen from powerful people who have close friends on speed dial that could track you."

Her hands shook. Her stance widened. I knew what she was going to do before she pulled the trigger except, she pulled multiple times. I lifted my hands out and stopped the bullets from hitting me. Bridget stared at me wide eyed and mouth opened. I pushed the bullets forward and watched as they hit her, her body twitching backwards before collapsing on the sand.

"Izzy!" Trevor called out.

Something twitched in my head and I felt dizzy. Blood dripped down from my nose. I looked back up and saw Trevor walking with someone beside him. "Who is this?" I asked, wiping the blood before it touched my mouth.

"Someone who saved your friend's life. I didn't think Special Division agents will come near here."

"Why is that?"

"I've been hiding from Noah for a long time. But I am glad to see you two. The both of you grew up strong and beautiful."

I took a step back. "How do you know us?"

"I helped deliver you…and created you."

This mission became more complicated than I thought.

Trevor and I carried the dead bodies and put them underneath the bridge. Craig had a bullet in the head and Trevor made sure to Craig's gun in his dead hand. Tomorrow, someone will find them, and the evidence will point that they got into a fight about the money they stole. In a fit of rage, Craig shot and killed Bridget. Out of remorse and guilt, he killed himself.

The older man – Doctor Daniel Richards – walked with us back to the hotel room and sat outside our balcony. Trevor sat next to him, but I stayed standing with a glass of water in hand. My nose stopped bleeding, but my head was pounding. I was debating if I should get caffeine now or to take more Advil. Dr. Richards claimed that he made a big mistake working for Special Division, but he hasn't clarified…yet.

"I was part of Special Division from the very beginning of it actually. I wanted to change the world – make it better, make it stronger. I began as a prisoner counselor and soon, I faked the innocent inmates' deaths and gave them new lives. I had mostly helped women, especially those that were pregnant or forced to give up their children. I gave them new identities. And over time, I thought about using what I do to create heroes. In 1980, Noah approached me in Boston and appreciated what I did. He liked my idea of turning children into heroes."

How was that a good idea? Did he not see what Trevor and I did to the bodies?

"It was your idea that created Special Division," Trevor said as he rubbed his eyes in disbelief.

"I created Special Division because I wanted it to be place for the children to feel at home. They can go in and out as they pleased. There are so many children right now who are still in the system and have not enough food or shelter." Daniel sighed as he stood up, walking back and forth. "Then, I had an idea if I could create born heroes that could save the world like the comics. But the women I brought in miscarried too early in their pregnancy or didn't want to be part of the program anymore."

"So, what did you do instead?"

"What did you do?" I asked, feeling dread wash over me.

"Noah helped me take fertilized embryos and I made small changes to them…to improve them."

"What improvements?" Anger was pumping in my veins.

"Trevor, you were my first." He said, ignoring my question. Trevor stared wide eyed. "Your parents came to the United States for help because they wanted a child. Everything was healthy with them; they didn't need help. But then, they needed money to go back to Ireland. I used your mother's egg and father's sperm…a few months later, I went back to visit your family and I found out that they were having a healthy baby boy. But your mother was sick, so I created medication to help with the process."

"What did you do?" Trevor said calmly, but I could see that he was restraining himself from harming the doctor.

"I took DNA from animals and put them in the medication as well as the embryos. When you were born, everything was perfect, and your mother was healthy. Was she able to give birth to anymore children after you?"

"She had a C section when she had my brother."

I looked at him, shocked. He hasn't mentioned his brother in years or at least, to any stranger.

"You created the perfect soldiers with heightened abilities. Did you know we were born with extra abilities as well?" Trevor asked.

"I didn't know until I came by your home one night when you had a fever. Your mother was worried, but your fever went away the next day and I saw you…you used your powers on me – accident of course." Daniel said with a fatherly approved smile. "It was amazing. It was the same for the rest of you at the young of age four or five, but I had never thought my dream come true."

Your dream became a living nightmare for us.

"What else did you do?" I asked him.

He looked away ashamed. "I recruited mothers that weren't able to carry their children in the womb. So, I grabbed homeless women and ex junkies to help carry them and in return, we will give them money. Most of the mothers were able to carry."

"So, the drugs were part of the process of our abilities? They helped keep the mothers healthy as well. All of that to create the perfect solider – or I'm sorry, hero to save the world."

"Yes."

"Was my mom part of this? Renee Swan?"

The doctor sighed and nodded. "When I first met your parents, they were eighteen, married, out of high school, and needed money. But your mother also miscarried in her first term and they were grieving – and ashamed to tell the truth to their town. Your mother was barely showing so it gave me a chance to find a surrogate. All your mother had to was fake her pregnancy so no one in town will know the difference."

Tears formed and my hands formed into a fist. All those photos they had of my mom being pregnant with me – they weren't real…unless the first term ones really belonged to the child that they had lost. Why didn't they tell me? Why did they lie to me?

"You changed people's lives, but it wasn't a good thing. Your actions, your dreams cost many of us to be kidnapped from our families and be raised as assassins, as machines with no emotions. We've killed people – innocent or not at a young age. Are you satisfied with yourself, doc?"

He ran his fingers through his grey hair. "I'm not proud of what I've done – how far my dream twisted into something that wasn't meant to be controlled. By the time I had realized what Noah had planned, I wanted you out – all of you. I stayed in the shadows during the time you were trained in Special Division."

"We don't remember you being there."

"I'm good being in the background." He laughed humorlessly. "Plus, Dahlia gave me reports on your well beings and they were extraordinary. I wanted to save you, but you saved yourselves."

But did we? We lost friends along the way and I'm back in the hell hole.

"You knew we were out. Why didn't you come to us back then? We needed you after we had escaped. Noah has killed our friends back then and now! You were always content staying the background, letting us do the bloodwork."

"Izzy, calm down."

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down. He could've shut down that program and saved us. But now he reappears out of nowhere and what? What do you want with us? After all this time?"

"I have stayed out of Noah's way for many years and out of Special Division. But I didn't want to think of the kids that are younger than you – have extra abilities. I thought your group were the first ones and after what I heard about that little girl Maggie –"

I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and snarled. "Don't you dare say her name. She was innocent and didn't deserve to die like that especially in a small town like ours. What do you want, doc?"

"I believe that with you back in Special Division, you and Trevor can change it and go back to the old normal."

I looked at Trevor's green eyes and looked back at the doctor. "You're crazy. There is no way in hell that Special Division is going to stay up and running. But you could help us destroy it. You can help us get our revenge. There shouldn't be any more child assassins running in the world."

"No, no!" Daniel shook his head. "Forget about revenge. The fate of those who seek it is grim. You will end up hurting yourself even more. Even if you do succeed in getting revenge, the only thing left remaining is emptiness."

"I don't care. I'm already empty because of them. I'm ready to do whatever it takes."

He shook his head once more, "But don't you see what is happening to you, Isabella? You are becoming the one thing you had never wanted to be: an emotionless killer. I can see that you are fighting it but something else happened to you, to make you close yourself off –push those good emotions out of your head. You are choosing revenge and darkness."

"When you lose everyone you have ever loved in front of you, then you will understand what we are feeling every single day." Trevor said. "I don't think you realize that you don't have a choice right now, Dr. Richards. You are going to help us, or we will tell Noah and Dahlia that you approached us wanting to change its ways."

"I don't think he will appreciate that especially coming from an old friend and co-worker." I smirked. "You shouldn't have approached us. But you get to have a chance in redemption…there are other people in Special Division that don't have abilities and believe in the bullshit that they've been hearing. We can still save them by destroying the disease on the inside."

He sighed. "You're missing, Isabella. Your father is in the talks with the FBI – people that are trying to tie the trail of missing children – your murdered friends to you. They will find the connection."

"Let us worry about that. You should be more worried about yourself."

A/N: i'm alive and i'm sorry for the lack of updating.

- DisneyRBD

UPDATED Note: Someone (a guest) in reviews said that an author Iwishiwerebellaswan and her story "Black Harts" is similiar to my story especially with the names of my characters and Special Division. The author obviously did not ask for my permission. i have had people take my quotes, but i will not tolerant stealing my story and changing it into something similar. I have worked hard on it. I have briefly read her chapters and there are similarities and I do not appreciate the plagiarizing.