Nathaniel White climbed into the tank full of water, took a deep breath and dipped below the surface, holding his hands up for, Amanda, his assistant, to handcuff his wrists together. He hoped today that she was going to be a bit quicker than before so that he could reappear and look a little less flustered; he had thought his lungs were going to explode in the last show!

By the time she'd handcuffed him, bolted the lid of the tank, wrapped the one and a half inch thick chain around it and swivelled the entire tank around on the wheeled trolley for everyone to see, they were a few seconds out yet again. They'd have to practise this more.

Amanda pulled the curtains around the tank and tripped the leaver to let the baby shark slither in.

He should be out by now.

The drum roll started and… Ahahhhh! She whipped the curtains back. He had gone!

Thunderous applause and laughter filled the auditorium when the audience saw the shark. It must have been a mistake, Amanda informed them, he'd obviously been eaten alive by the shark! Whatever would they do? She'd cut it open and Nate would come swimming out.

Drawing the curtains again, she produced a huge two foot long axe and climbed up a set of stepladders with it to look over the top of the curtains and into the tank. Chop, chop, splash, splash! The shark had been cut in two and, dedahhh… she whipped the curtain back to reveal…

An empty tank? What the hell was Nate playing at?

To her consternation there was utter silence and two hundred or so people staring at her. Then one girl, who had been watching with fascination in the front row, jumped up and shouted out,

"The men in black were coming for him but he got away!"

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Nate had no idea what was happening to him. One minute he was in the water, worrying that time was running out, and the next he was nowhere. 'How could anyone be nowhere?' he'd wondered. He knew though, in those few seconds in between, that he had in fact been nowhere.

Then he heard a horrific noise, a terrifying screaming sound, and he felt the person's fear strongly. He could sense himself being pulled towards the sound, but he didn't feel fear for himself, it seemed right to let it happen. And then he opened his eyes.

He was in an office, watching a tug of war between two men, with a woman in the middle: the woman who needed his help. At first, he didn't know what to do, but at the point when the door had slammed shut, and the millisecond later when she'd just began falling, an overwhelming feeling in the pit of his stomach kicked in. Suddenly everything was backwards, and inside out, and upside down, and reversing.

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"Yes, I'll see him now," Charlotte answered Giorgio, before hanging up the telephone and rising out of her chair, like an automaton. But residuals were in her brain and this time she paused at the door, with her hand hovering over the door knob.

Angelo had glanced briefly at the oil painting of the Amalfi coast, but for some reason, he was compelled to turn away from it as a sickness entered his stomach.

"Where are you going?" he asked her.

"I have an appointment," she replied, staring at the door knob in her hand but reluctant to turn it. Suddenly it began to turn of its own accord and her hand sprang back in shock.

Angelo launched himself towards Charlotte, grabbing her around the waist and dragging her back towards the desk, away from the door.

The man walked in and stood, with legs astride, firmly planted and disturbingly present in the confines of the office. He wore black shades to cover his eyes, which was a relief to both Angelo and Charlotte, who were beginning to feel the effects of the man's power.

Angelo wanted as much of a hold on Charlotte as possible, or he felt that she'd be pulled away from him. He backed towards the desk with Charlotte in front, and wrapped his arms around as much of her as he could. Charlotte was shaking with fear and held onto Angelo's arms for dear life.

The man 'watched' them from behind those black shades, as if assessing his next move. Then he held his hand out for Angelo to release Charlotte to him, but nothing in this word, or out of it, was going to persuade Angelo to give her up.

There was something wrong. Damn! Someone had been there before this. There were residuals in the Angels' heads!

The man strode to a door in the side wall, flung it open and disappeared through it.

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Clearly, nobody had noticed Nate there. Maybe they couldn't see him. Maybe he wasn't really there watching it all. Maybe it was all a dream. But he knew deep down that it wasn't.

Charlotte began to sob and shriek. Tears fell down Angelo's cheeks. There was so much terror in the room; Nate had to do something.

He lifted his hand and swiped it over the scene in front of him. Charlotte and Angelo pulled apart in confusion then, eyes dry, terror gone, or at least it was cloaked for the time being. Nate had done well.

The next thing he knew, he was fighting to get the handcuffs off, and his lungs felt as if they were about to explode.