We were gathered together for what we expected to be the last time. The ten Travelers and Uncle Press. Our final meeting took place in the same spot where I had said my good-byes to Mark and Courtney. We were in the center rotunda of the Taj Mahal. Uncle Press had called us together, and we knew why.

    We were called together for only the second time in each of our careers. The five of us stood in the small room. It was dark when the giant video monitor flickered to life. The Man in the Mask ,as he liked to be called, appeared to give us our instructions. This time was different, he didn`t speak right away. When he did speak, he spoke with a pained voice. We all got the hint that somthing was wrong. With no warning the monitor exploded. We were under attack. We knew our identities had been compromised.