Chapter 28: Safeguard

As the clock struck noon, televisions across the country flickered to life, broadcasting the breaking news that would shake the nation to its core. The screen was filled with the image of the president, but the voice that emanated from it was not his own.

"This is an emergency broadcast," the news anchor –Amy’s– voice rang out, her tone urgent. "We have received shocking revelations about the true intentions of the president and his administration."

In living rooms, cafes, and offices, people stopped what they were doing, their attention captured by the gravity of the situation. Phones buzzed with notifications, social media feeds flooded with updates, and the air crackled with a sense of anticipation.

In the bustling offices of Hemingway-Jones Industries, chaos erupted as the news of the president's true intentions spread like wildfire. Employees rushed to their computers, frantically checking news sites and social media for updates, while others crowded around televisions, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief.

"This changes everything," one executive exclaimed, pacing back and forth with a furrowed brow. "We need to do damage control, fast!"

Cameron Jones stood at the center of the chaos, his expression grave but determined. "This changes everything," he declared, his voice cutting through the din of the office. "But we can't let fear paralyze us. We need to act, and act fast."

Julius Hemingway nodded in agreement, his eyes ablaze with determination. "Our priority now is to protect our people and our assets," he said, his voice commanding. "We may be a government building, but we will not be complicit in their corruption."

As the executives mobilized their teams to secure the building and make preparations for the safety of their employees, Cameron and Julius exchanged a knowing glance. They had long suspected that something was amiss within the government, but now that the truth was out, they were ready to take action.

Cameron and Julius talked in hushed voices, “After their capture I wasn’t sure they would go for it.”

Cameron grimaced, “I knew she wouldn’t give up, I was surprised she worked with that team so well though.”

Meanwhile, in a hidden corner of the office, a team of operatives worked tirelessly to coordinate a plan to ensure the safety of Edith's team. They knew that time was of the essence, and that they needed to act quickly to evade capture and make their escape.

With Cameron and Julius leading the charge, Hemingway-Jones Industries sprung into action, deploying resources and personnel to support Edith's team from afar. As the authorities closed in, a daring game of cat and mouse began, with the B-Team working tirelessly to distract and evade their pursuers while Edith's team made their escape to safety.

In the midst of the chaos, Cameron and Julius remained steadfast in their resolve, their unwavering commitment to justice driving them forward. With their leadership and the support of their dedicated employees, they were determined to see Edith's team through to safety, no matter the cost.

—

Meanwhile, Edith's team huddled around a table in a makeshift command center, their eyes glued to the screens as they monitored the broadcast. They knew that their work was far from over; they had to ensure that the truth reached every corner of the country.

"We need to keep the broadcast going," Edith said, her voice steady despite the chaos around them. "We can't let the government shut us down."

Kasey nodded, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he worked to maintain the signal. "I'm patching into multiple servers to keep the feed alive," he reported, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Meanwhile, Markus and Montana were on the phones, coordinating with their contacts to spread the word and mobilize support. "We need everyone to know what's happening," Markus said, his voice determined. "We won't let them silence us."

As news of the president's true intentions spread like wildfire, the streets erupted into chaos. Anger, fear, and frustration boiled over, and the once peaceful city descended into rioting and mayhem.

In the heart of the city, crowds gathered, their voices raised in fury as they marched through the streets. Protest signs were brandished high, their messages demanding justice and accountability. The air crackled with tension as they surged forward, their footsteps echoing off the walls of nearby buildings.

The rioters clashed with police, the sounds of shattering glass and screams filling the air. Tear gas canisters arced through the sky, dispersing the crowds momentarily before they regrouped with renewed determination.

Stores were looted, cars overturned, and fires set ablaze, casting an eerie glow over the chaos. The city skyline was punctuated by plumes of smoke, a stark reminder. Amidst the chaos, ordinary citizens found themselves caught in the crossfire, their lives upended by the violence and destruction. Fear and uncertainty hung heavy in the air as the riots raged on, with no end in sight.

It was a scene of utter turmoil and upheaval, a reflection of the deep-seated anger and frustration simmering just beneath the surface of society. 

Kasey looked out the blinds, “We need to get out of here, we’re sitting ducks if we wait any longer.”

Montana, his broad shoulders tense with determination, began methodically packing their supplies into duffel bags, his movements deliberate and efficient. His hands moved with practiced ease, swiftly sorting through equipment and provisions, his mind focused on the task at hand.

Markus couldn't help but marvel at Montana's efficiency. "Do you have some kind of superpower for packing?" he joked, a small grin playing on his lips.

Montana chuckled, his movements never faltering as he continued to pack. "When you've had to run away twice a month for most of your life, you learn to only bring the things you need," he replied, his tone light but tinged with a hint of sadness.

"Run away? From where?" Markus asked, curiosity piqued.

Montana paused for a moment, considering his words carefully. "I was a foster kid for as long as I can remember," he explained quietly. "But we'll save the rest of that story for another time." With that, he returned to his task, leaving Markus to ponder the weight of his words.

Edith was double-checking their escape route, studying maps and coordinating with the others. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she analyzed the safest paths and potential obstacles they might encounter.

Zain was on the phone, speaking in hushed tones as he made arrangements for transportation. He glanced over at Edith occasionally, silently reassuring himself of her safety.

Kasey and Cian were busy securing their communication devices and destroying any evidence that could lead the government to their location. Their movements were methodical, betraying the urgency of their task. 

They all piled into the van, Zian in the driver's seat and Edith in the passenger side. The rest of the team piled into the back while they loaded up, and headed past the city out to a rural area known for farming, Goldencrest. 

The van rumbled along the deserted country roads, the only sound the soft hum of the engine and the occasional swish of branches against the windows. Inside, the team was lost in their own thoughts as they journeyed to their next safe location. 

Kasey gazed out the window, his mind filled with worry for his fiancée, Sarah. Questions circled in his mind: Was she safe? Did she know what was happening? Maybe the interrogator was right, would she be a widow before he could marry her? He imagined her sitting at home, anxiously waiting for news, unaware of the danger he was in. The guilt gnawed at him as he thought about the promises they had made to each other. If something happened to him, would she ever know the truth? Would she be left waiting for a man who might never return?

Beside him, Cian sat quietly, his thoughts drifting to his mom. He wondered how she had reacted when she saw the news about him on television. Did she understand why he had chosen to fight against the government, even if it meant putting himself in danger? He imagined her sitting in their small apartment, her worried gaze fixed on the TV screen as she listened to the reports about her son. The image of her face, filled with a mixture of pride and fear, tugged at his heartstrings. He longed to reassure her, to let her know that he was doing what he believed was right, but the distance between them felt too big to bridge the gap.

Edith stared out at the passing scenery, her mind consumed with thoughts of her parents. She couldn't shake the image of their faces when they found out their daughter was considered a government traitor. She had imagined it the moment they were exposed to the public. The disappointment and disbelief etched into their expressions haunted her. She imagined them sitting in their cozy living room, the TV blaring with news of the scandal, their voices hushed as they struggled to comprehend what was happening. Tears welled in Edith's eyes as she thought about her little brother, his innocent laughter echoing in her mind. She wondered what he would say if he were still alive, his wide eyes full of questions and confusion. Would he understand why she had chosen to fight against the very government he had once idolized?

Markus glanced at the photos of his brother on his phone, his thoughts consumed by memories of their childhood together. He remembered their adventures in the woods behind their house, their laughter echoing through the trees as they chased each other through the underbrush. But now, those memories felt like a lifetime ago. He wished he could talk to his brother, share his fears and hopes for the future. The guilt of leaving him behind weighed heavily on his heart. He vowed to himself that once this was all over, he would find a way to make things right, to ensure that his brother knew how much he meant to him.

Zain clenched his jaw, his thoughts swirling with anger and confusion. His mind replayed the countless arguments he had had with his father, the hurtful words and accusations that had been flung back and forth between them. He couldn't understand why he cared what happened to his dad. After all that he had done, why would he have any sympathy for that monster? He imagined his mom, Monica, on another modeling tour, her glamorous life a stark contrast to the danger he was facing. He wondered if she even knew what was happening, or if she was blissfully unaware of the turmoil he was in. The thought of her smiling face made his heart ache with longing. If only he could see her one last time, to tell her how much he loved her and how sorry he was for everything. Violet his sister, he’s sure she’s swarmed with interviews, and mountains of paperwork, safe under the watchful eye of his father. 

Montana leaned back in his seat, his eyes scanning the faces of his team members. He thought about how they had become like family to him, each one offering support and friendship in their own way. They were all in this together, and he trusted them with his life. As he looked at each of them, he couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude and admiration. Montana's thoughts drifted to the future, to the world they were fighting to create. He imagined a world where everyone had a voice, where no one was afraid to speak out against corruption and oppression. And as the van rumbled on into the night, he held onto that vision, determined to see it become a reality.

As the van turned onto a narrow dirt road, the landscape changed from dense forest to open fields dotted with small farms. Goldencrest, a farming community nestled in the heart of the countryside, welcomed them with open arms. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the rolling hills and quaint houses.

Their new safehouse was a modest farmhouse, its faded white exterior standing out against the green fields that stretched as far as the eye could see. The front porch was adorned with rocking chairs, and a swing hung from the sturdy oak tree in the front yard. The air was filled with the scent of fresh-cut grass and the distant sound of chirping crickets.

As the team stepped out of the van, they were greeted by a middle-aged woman with a warm smile. "Welcome to Goldencrest," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of Southern hospitality. "I'm Mrs. Jenkins, your host for the duration of your stay."

"Thank you, Mrs. Jenkins," Edith replied, returning the smile. "We appreciate your hospitality."

Inside, the farmhouse was cozy and inviting, with wooden floors and comfortable furnishings. Mrs. Jenkins showed them around, pointing out the three bedrooms available for their use.

"There are two beds in each room," she explained. "I hope that will be enough for all of you."

"That should work," Zain said, nodding in approval. "Thank you, Mrs. Jenkins."

After Mrs. Jenkins left them to settle in, the team gathered in the living room, sinking into the plush sofas as they discussed their next steps.

"So, what's the plan?" Markus asked, breaking the silence.

"We need to lay low for a while," Zain replied, his voice firm. "We've caused quite a stir, and the last thing we need is to draw more attention to ourselves."

“I disagree, I think we should continue our operations and put more pressure on the government, we should back them into a corner and cut them off at the knees,” Edith said her voice tinged with vindication. 

“I hate to disagree with you but the more attention we draw to ourselves the bigger the repercussions. They know who our family is and I wouldn’t put it past them to use them as leverage.” Markus replied with a grimace.

Edith’s eyes lit up with an idea as he said this, “Then we should move our loved ones to a safe house. With us being exposed they already know who we are, and all it takes is one search of our last names and the public can find out our whole family tree.”

“While that’s a good idea, I still think we should lay low. We can perform covert operations from here, and rest easy knowing they are safe with our agents.” Zain butted in. He wanted to put a stop to any impulsive or rash decisions. 

Edith bristled at this, “If there was a breach in the CJA who’s to say there won’t be another one? If we move them they should be with us, the best agents in the country. I mean, who could they be safer with?”

The group paused as an idea popped into their heads. Cian started, “If anything they’ll be in more danger with us, because we have targets on our backs. We could put them in the hands of Haw–” the rest of the group joined in,

“Hawthorne.”

Montana looked around confused, “Who’s Hawthorne?”

Edith turned around and pulled out a packet of credentials, “Evelyn “Eve” Hawthorne, she is a retired intelligence operative with more experience than either Cameron or Julius could hope for in covert operations.”

“And how is she supposed to help us?” Montana continued.

“She is known for taking on an active field agent’s family who may be targeted by enemies. This is because her family was collateral in Croacari’s resistance with Osteria. She works out of a place called Guardian’s Refuge, located in the Whispering Pines far away from any cities, or towns, and the only people that know the way through–let alone the coordinates–are Hawthorne herself, Cameron, Julius, and Austin Calahan, my father.” Zain trailed off, looking at the ground.

“Can’t you just call him and have him arrange for everyone to be sent there?” Markus asked.

“It’s not that simple–” Zain started but Edith cut him off, “Yes he can, so I will need a list of everyone you guys want sent, and their address’. For this you won’t be able to see them but we will receive written confirmation that they arrived there safely, I will have Cameron brief them all on what exactly the situation is, without getting into too much detail.” Zain gave her a look, nodded to the other room and walked away. Edith stood unwavering and looked at the group again, she’d deal with him and his daddy issues later.

The group nodded and started writing things down on a sheet of paper. Montana perked up, “Um..is Ms. Hawthorne known for taking in dogs by chance?”

“Mrs. Hawthorne, and if you don’t have anyone else she’ll take in him/her as long as they are potty trained, and are friendly with other canines and people.” Edith said, glancing over the retreat’s bio. 

The group finished the list and handed it to Edith, she took it and walked into the spare room Zain had disappeared to. Edith entered the spare room, finding Zain sitting on the edge of the windowsill, his expression guarded. She closed the door behind her, taking a deep breath to steel herself for the conversation to come.

"Zain, can we talk?" she asked softly, approaching him cautiously.

Zain glanced up, his eyes held with contempt. "I don't really feel like talking right now," he replied curtly, avoiding her gaze.

Edith hesitated for a moment, then took a seat beside him. "Please, Zain. I want to understand," she urged.

Zain sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "It's just... complicated," he began, his voice soft. "My relationship with my father has always been... strained, to say the least. He's never been there for me when I needed him, and I've always felt like I'm living in his shadow."

Edith frowned, “I thought you were like his pride and joy, with the best agent at Hemingway and all.”

Zain shrugged, a bitter laugh escaping him. "You would think so, but it's never been that simple. He's always had his own agenda, his own priorities. And I've always felt like I'm just a pawn in his game."

“When this is all over, do you think you’ll leave this life?” She questioned, hoping selfishly that his answer was no.

“I never wanted to be in it in the first place, but my family’s already involved in this, and my credentials aren’t just for show. I’m good at what I do, I just think I’ll have to find a way to apply it to something else.” He said, eyes tracing the stain of the wood floors. 

“I can’t say I’ll ever understand it but, I’ll support you in whatever you choose.”

Zain gave her a small, grateful smile, his walls beginning to crumble. "Thanks, Edith. I appreciate it."

Taking a deep breath, Edith pulled out her phone, dialing the number for Austin Calahan. After a moment, the call connected, and a voice answered on the other end.

"Hello?" Austin's voice was cautious, wary. She wasn’t surprised by this, she was his son’s enemy for years, so caution was almost always applied.

"Mr. Calahan, it's Edith Wood," Edith said, her tone polite but firm. "I have a list of names and addresses that need to be sent to Guardian's Refuge. Can you arrange for safe transport for them?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, then Austin spoke again, his voice softer this time. “May I question why my daughter and my wife are on this list?”

“They were to be sent there at the request of Agent C, sir.” Edith continued, glancing over to Zain’s tense and shaking form.

“I see, well I will take care of it, thank you Ms. Wood.” And with that the line went dead.

Edith nodded, ending the call with a sense of relief. She turned to Zain, a small smile playing on her lips. "It's taken care of. Your family and everyone else's will be safe."

Zain's eyes softened, gratitude shining in them. "Thank you, Edith. I owe you one."

Edith shook her head, a playful glint in her eye. "No, you don't. We're a team, remember? We look out for each other."

"Yeah, we do." Zain smiled, as he moved to the room with the rest of the team.

Kasey glanced around the room, his thoughts already turning to their next move. "We should start gathering intel on the government's movements," he suggested. "We need to stay one step ahead of them."

Montana nodded in agreement. "I'll see what I can find out," he said, already pulling out his laptop.

CIan leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning the room. "In the meantime, we should focus on staying safe," he said. "We can't afford to let our guard down."

With renewed determination, they set to work, planning their next steps in the battle against the corrupt forces that threatened to tear their nation apart. And as the night wore on and the stars filled the sky, they found comfort in the knowledge that they were not alone. Together, they would weather the storm and emerge stronger on the other side. 

K.M Strunk