Medea<br/>En Route<br/>Early Morning<br/><br/>"No, we're not the police," I reply to the question from the back seat.  It gives me a chance to consider what Hellion is asking, and I think it has a little more to do with what's under the suit than just knowing who I really am.  "You might be in trouble, but you might not be.  We just need to know a few answers to questions you will probably be able to answer.  You don't have to be afraid of us.  I know some things about you, and I really haven't any interest in harming you."  Not that we could; Hellion might be able to put up a fight, but he'd kill me, like he'd killed the other men.<br/><br/>I keep my voice soothing, calm, the rhythm engaging without being sonorous.  Giving Hellion a case of highway hypnosis would be very unfortunate for everyone involved.  "You may call me Medea, and this lovely young lady is Hellion."  I brush the back of my fingers along Hellion's shoulder, a light brush that could be taken any number of ways.  And from the looks she's been giving me, I'm fairly certain she'll take it the way I want her to.  Tacit agreement.<br/><br/>Besides, if I want her to forget my face, she will.  This fellow though....this victim.  I might not be able to do that with him.  And while I suspect that no one will be able to catch him, if I'm wrong, he would give away a secret I've kept from the government despite the Keene Act - my real identity.  Not even the Federals know who Medea is when she's not herself.<br/><br/>"Is there anything we can do for you, to make you feel less threatened?" I ask the ragged, rather homeless looking fellow in the back seat.  "You do not look very well."  I pitch my voice slightly, testing, seeing if he responds to it in the way he's supposed to.