Page 102
Story: Finding Fate
"The screens... videos... Destiny," I ramble, wide-eyed yet staring unfocused at Nash's chest, my face cradled between his hands. "How did he find—"
Behind him, the screens once again flicker to life. I slam my eyes shut to protect myself from another visual attack.
"What the...?"
The second his hands leave my face, I desperately want them back. Forcing my eyes to open, I find him standing at the computers, watching. Pictures float across the various screens. First pictures of fake Faith, the one the general wanted, bounce from one screen to another before fading to pictures of me—the real me. Next, one of me and Mac on the back steps, then one of me and Nash outside this house, talking and holding each other.
"That's... that's from today. This afternoon," I stammer from the floor, still not believing what I'm seeing. The pictures of me, my location. How did he get it all? There's no way he could’ve gotten this far without inside help, especially pulling my prints from the passport database, but help from where, and who?
More pictures of Nash dragging me back to the house pop up on the screen, but it's not those that cause tears to build.
Mya.
Different pictures flash across of Mya in a hot pink T-shirt, black leggings, and purple tennis shoes sitting on a picnic table reading a hardback book while other children play in the background.
"Shit," Nash yells. Seconds later, Drake and Raider bang through the door, weapons drawn. Nash paces the room, phone at his ear, begging for Liza to pick up. When she does, he flips it over to speakerphone.
"What did Mya wear to school today?" Nash demands. The three of us stay as silent as possible as we stare at the phone waiting for her response.
"Nash, what the—" Liza responds sounding frustrated and cautious.
"Just tell me, dammit. It's important."
To our horror, Liza ticks off the exact outfit Mya wore in the pictures still on the screens.
Nash glances to Raider, who's already halfway out the door. They communicate silently before Raider storms the rest of the way out and pounds down the stairs.
"Liza, listen to me,” Nash says. “Raider's on his way to get you and Mya. Do not leave the house, and do not let anyone in except him. Do you understand me?"
The shake in her voice rips at my heart. This is all my fault. "Nash, you're scaring me. What's going on?"
"The guy after Fate knows my weak spot. You and Mya are in danger," he yells, making me flinch and press harder against the wall, trying to put more space between us, unlike Drake who takes a step toward the furious man I think I love. "Get the gun I gave you, pack up both of you and wait for Raider. If anyone besides him steps up your front porch, don't question it, just shoot. Understand?"
"Okay, okay. I'm getting her now." In the background, drawers open and slam shut alongside Mya's questioning voice asking what’s going on. "How... how bad is it?"
"Bad. Go and... I love you, Liza."
With that, he hangs up and turns to face me. "How does he know you're here?" he demands. "And how in the hell does he know who I am and my family?"
"It's not her fault, Snowflake," Drake says calmly, taking another step so he’s between us. "We'll get your sister and niece safe, but we need to figure shit out, so calm the fuck down so we can." He crouches to where I still sit on the floor, looking up to Nash's back, silently begging him to turn around. "Any ideas on how this guy found you here?"
"I don't know, that's what I'm trying to figure out too," I whisper, shifting my gaze from Nash to Drake’s attempt at a comforting stare. "And it doesn't make sense. None of this makes sense. How in the hell did he have access to the passport system in the first place to get my prints? That shit’s near impenetrable. He's not that good. And now this, finding me here...."
"You think he has someone on the inside," Drake finishes for me.
"He has to," I breathe. "It's the only thing that makes sense. For him to have gotten this far, to have my prints, to find me here. But who knew I had the information on Jace—" My wide eyes shift to Nash just as he turns, locking with his. "You don't think...?"
"Fuck yes I think. That bastard did everything he could to keep us over in Africa, maybe because he knew what you'd do to his guy if you came home. Knew you had something that would incriminate them both. He had to be the third person scanning the system for your prints, and that’s why we couldn't pinpoint him. Fuck!" he yells and makes for the door, but Drake cuts him off.
It does make sense for it to be him, I guess, but something still doesn't add up.
"He didn't ask me about Jace today," I muse, but the two men are too busy fighting, one trying to leave and the other doing his best to not let him, to pay me any attention.
Words flash on the black screens, making everything in the room stop.
You'll never be able to hide.
This ends with you.
Behind him, the screens once again flicker to life. I slam my eyes shut to protect myself from another visual attack.
"What the...?"
The second his hands leave my face, I desperately want them back. Forcing my eyes to open, I find him standing at the computers, watching. Pictures float across the various screens. First pictures of fake Faith, the one the general wanted, bounce from one screen to another before fading to pictures of me—the real me. Next, one of me and Mac on the back steps, then one of me and Nash outside this house, talking and holding each other.
"That's... that's from today. This afternoon," I stammer from the floor, still not believing what I'm seeing. The pictures of me, my location. How did he get it all? There's no way he could’ve gotten this far without inside help, especially pulling my prints from the passport database, but help from where, and who?
More pictures of Nash dragging me back to the house pop up on the screen, but it's not those that cause tears to build.
Mya.
Different pictures flash across of Mya in a hot pink T-shirt, black leggings, and purple tennis shoes sitting on a picnic table reading a hardback book while other children play in the background.
"Shit," Nash yells. Seconds later, Drake and Raider bang through the door, weapons drawn. Nash paces the room, phone at his ear, begging for Liza to pick up. When she does, he flips it over to speakerphone.
"What did Mya wear to school today?" Nash demands. The three of us stay as silent as possible as we stare at the phone waiting for her response.
"Nash, what the—" Liza responds sounding frustrated and cautious.
"Just tell me, dammit. It's important."
To our horror, Liza ticks off the exact outfit Mya wore in the pictures still on the screens.
Nash glances to Raider, who's already halfway out the door. They communicate silently before Raider storms the rest of the way out and pounds down the stairs.
"Liza, listen to me,” Nash says. “Raider's on his way to get you and Mya. Do not leave the house, and do not let anyone in except him. Do you understand me?"
The shake in her voice rips at my heart. This is all my fault. "Nash, you're scaring me. What's going on?"
"The guy after Fate knows my weak spot. You and Mya are in danger," he yells, making me flinch and press harder against the wall, trying to put more space between us, unlike Drake who takes a step toward the furious man I think I love. "Get the gun I gave you, pack up both of you and wait for Raider. If anyone besides him steps up your front porch, don't question it, just shoot. Understand?"
"Okay, okay. I'm getting her now." In the background, drawers open and slam shut alongside Mya's questioning voice asking what’s going on. "How... how bad is it?"
"Bad. Go and... I love you, Liza."
With that, he hangs up and turns to face me. "How does he know you're here?" he demands. "And how in the hell does he know who I am and my family?"
"It's not her fault, Snowflake," Drake says calmly, taking another step so he’s between us. "We'll get your sister and niece safe, but we need to figure shit out, so calm the fuck down so we can." He crouches to where I still sit on the floor, looking up to Nash's back, silently begging him to turn around. "Any ideas on how this guy found you here?"
"I don't know, that's what I'm trying to figure out too," I whisper, shifting my gaze from Nash to Drake’s attempt at a comforting stare. "And it doesn't make sense. None of this makes sense. How in the hell did he have access to the passport system in the first place to get my prints? That shit’s near impenetrable. He's not that good. And now this, finding me here...."
"You think he has someone on the inside," Drake finishes for me.
"He has to," I breathe. "It's the only thing that makes sense. For him to have gotten this far, to have my prints, to find me here. But who knew I had the information on Jace—" My wide eyes shift to Nash just as he turns, locking with his. "You don't think...?"
"Fuck yes I think. That bastard did everything he could to keep us over in Africa, maybe because he knew what you'd do to his guy if you came home. Knew you had something that would incriminate them both. He had to be the third person scanning the system for your prints, and that’s why we couldn't pinpoint him. Fuck!" he yells and makes for the door, but Drake cuts him off.
It does make sense for it to be him, I guess, but something still doesn't add up.
"He didn't ask me about Jace today," I muse, but the two men are too busy fighting, one trying to leave and the other doing his best to not let him, to pay me any attention.
Words flash on the black screens, making everything in the room stop.
You'll never be able to hide.
This ends with you.
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