A/N: Thank you for the reviews, although some of them were sent a long time ago. Thanks also to Fanatic Fan for the more recent review. I hope readers are still enjoying this story, and I'm sorry it's been so slow to update. I intend to start rereading the series and work on updating this a lot faster and finishing it as well. Thanks for your interest! :)

Lydia sighed and wiped the sweat from her brow, having finally finished packing all of her things on this hot day in her not-so-well-air-conditioned apartment. She was due to arrive at the airport in a little over an hour and then she would be off to Florida on a private charter from the University.

She stared down at the business phone in her hands. It was the latest technology and rather huge in comparison to her ordinary phone, and all of her work contacts had been programmed into it. But only her work contacts.

That made her uneasy. That and the fact that she had absolutely no way of contacting any of her family or friends. She would have thought – or hoped – they would allow her to visit first or to say good-bye or… something, but no. Supposedly they all knew where she was and one of her friends would come and pick up her cat. Jim had assured her that her friends and family wished her well and understood perfectly the fact that she couldn't talk to them at all until this project was finished, but it wasn't the same as seeing and hearing that for herself.

But what could she do? It was either accept all this secrecy or don't do the project, and she really wanted to be involved in this project. Maybe things would be easier when she got united with her team. Maybe the project wouldn't last long and she could be reunited with her friends, family, and cat within the month. Maybe this would pass by perfectly fine.

Pushing aside the little warning voice in her head, she leaned over and picked Allie up, cuddling her fluffy pet in her arms; "Somebody's going to come and pick you up and take very good care of you for awhile, okay, baby?" she murmured into the cat's soft fur. "I wish I could take you with me but I just can't. But I will be back as soon as possible." She whined a little and hugged her cat tighter, fighting back tears, "I'm gonna miss you, Allie." Sighing, she kissed the top of the cat's head and released her, placing her carefully on the ground.

Dragging her suitcases behind her, Lydia headed to the door, opening it and rolling them outside before tossing her phone in her purse, which sat on the little end table next to the door, and looping her arm through the handle. Then she turned off the lights, pet her cat a couple more times, and reluctantly closed the door.

There was no going back now.

Jim met her at the airport, looking as enthusiastic as ever as he pointed at the small plane that towered above them. "There she is! Your pilot is already in there and ready to transport you to the team's meeting place in Florida City, Florida, just north of the rainforests. The flight will be about two hours. All there is left to do is hop on."

Lydia considered the plane. It was large and colored white and orange, and all of the windows lining the sides were closed. The writing on the side identified the plane as belonging to Michigan Underground University, approved by the King of Michigan for research use. Again, something struck her funny, but she ignored it.

She heaved her suitcases up the stairs leading into the plane as Jim followed behind her. Stopping inside, she turned to the right, intent on thanking the pilot for flying her, but was surprised to see a steel door separating the passenger area from the controls of the plane. She turned to Jim, "Is there anyone else on this plane? A steward or stewardess or something?"

"Nope," he shook his head as though this were completely normal, "Just you, Lydia. You and the pilot."

"No co-pilot?"

"No, just you and the pilot," he insisted, now seeming a bit agitated.

"Can I talk to the pilot?"

"No. He's not a very social person. Just take a seat and relax. The flight will not be long and I promise you will be met as soon as you get off by plenty of friendly people you can socialize with."

"Well… all right…" she stuffed her suitcase into an overhead compartment that had been labeled with her name on it and settled into the seat underneath, reaching for the lower part of the sash to roll up her window and let some natural light in.

"No," Jim said suddenly, putting a hand on her arm to stop her. "I'm afraid our project's top secret nature expressly forbids you from opening any windows."

"You're kidding."

"I informed you of the nature of our project. You should have expected this."

"Who expects this much secrecy?" she demanded. "Does it really matter who is inside the plane if our University's logo is plastered all over the side? It doesn't make any sense!" She finally let herself get a little bolder as she protested these weird occurrences. After all, how could she sit back when her boss had just told her to sit alone in a tiny, windowless airplane for two hours with only one pilot that she couldn't even talk to or so much as look at. It was creepy.

"You have to trust us. Unless you don't want to be involved in the project?" he raised a questioning eyebrow.

She sighed and pursed her lips, considering that. It was back to the project again. She really didn't want to reject this opportunity and she suspected that Jim knew that. But she had to at least double check all of these details one more time. "Are you sure this is going to be a safe plane ride?" she demanded, raising an eyebrow right back at him. "One pilot? No one to take over if he's incapacitated but me and no way for me to get up there to the controls to do so? And even if there was I know nothing about flying a plane."

"Trust me, you'll be safe," her boss gave her and oddly reassuring smile. She'd always liked Jim, but today he was acting very strange. "There is no way that the pilot will be incapacitated. If you're that nervous I suggest you take a tranquilizer. They have been provided for you free of charge and placed in the seat back pocket in front of you. Before you know it you will be safe on the ground in Florida City."

Lydia wanted to argue more, but she sensed it would be futile, and she really wanted this assignment. "All right," she finally agreed, before Jim bid her a hasty farewell.

Next thing she knew the door had closed and she was stuck in this isolated little plane, with only the dim orange lights from the ceiling shining down on her and the noise of the vehicle's engine to keep her company. Swallowing back her nervousness, she reached into the seat back pocket and pulled out the bottle of tranquilizers Jim had mentioned, reading the fine print for dosage and instructions. She had never heard of tranquilizers being offered to passengers free of charge before.

Ultimately, she decided against using them. She would try to keep this as normal as possible. Pretend nothing weird was going on.

That was easier said than done, though. It was quite unnerving taking off without being able to look out the window and see it happen. She had always been a window seat person on planes. It made her more comfortable when she had a view to distract her from things like other passenger's and turbulence. Now that was not the case. She felt every single air pocket the plane encountered with a jolt and a nervous gulp, but she still refused to take the tranquilizers. Instead, she pulled "The Bad Beginning" out of her carry-on bag and opened it up. A Series of Unfortunate Events, though she had only just finished reading the last book, was an easy, fun read and hopefully a good distraction for her on this horrible flight.

Now that she unequivocally knew that Beatrice was the Baudelaire's mother, the little dedication at the beginning of the book struck her differently. It would be fun to read the series again from the beginning with that certain knowledge, looking for more clues, interpreting things from that vantage point.

She chuckled as she read. Lemony Snicket, or whoever he really was, was such an interesting author. With his whole 'which here means' word definitions and his baby-talk translations and his sort of… proper, fancy way of talking and his adorably romantic devotion to Beatrice, though she was dead and had married somebody else anyway and it was really sort of sad.

All in all, though, she almost wished that these stories were real. She was sure the author would be an interesting person to meet. But they just couldn't be real. The whole thing about it being a true story was just a part of the fiction and she knew that. After all, the world wasn't that terrible, there weren't all these ridiculous conspiracies and secret organizations floating around. Everything was nice and innocent.

Then again, if that was the case, she thought with a frown, what was she doing on this creepy plane with no windows and no access to the pilot and a phone she couldn't use to contact her family and a bunch of tranquilizers in the seat back pocket that Jim had seemed oddly desirous that she take?

Pushing those silly thoughts aside, she settled back in her chair and continued reading.