Chapter Nine
Trigger Warning: Descriptions of extreme violence and trauma (physical, emotional, sexual), torture, suicidal thoughts and actions.
The next few days tortured Connor. Waiting for news about Wren left him an unfocused mess. He played with his quarter, rolling it across his knuckles and flinging it from one hand to the other.
Ping.
Ping.
Ping.
Hank rested his elbows on his desk, clicking and unclicking a pen. Tina, Chris, and Gavin were on their way back from CyberLife Tower after retrieving the evidence Kamski found—the evidence Wren took—and Connor looked forward to advancing the case. He needed something to divert his mind from Wren. What if she failed? What if Prometheus caught her? Would they kill her? They had not so far, but there was no telling how many lines Wren could cross before Prometheus decided she was not worth the trouble? Even if they did not kill her, they were not above hurting her.
Connor dropped his quarter; the soft metallic thump caused Hank to flinch. Connor stooped to pick up the coin and caught Hank's stare.
"You're worried about her?"
Connor nodded and pocketed the coin.
Hank scrunched his nose. "Yeah. Me too."
"What if there is nothing to find?" Connor's voice seemed scratchier than usual. He swallowed.
"In her medical records?"
"What if there are no records at all?"
"There's gotta be," said Hank. "They'll be hard to get to, and I'm sure the most important stuff is locked somewhere extra-encrypted, but there's gotta be records… Organizations don't just not have records."
Connor tightened his jaw and nodded. The elevator dinged and Tina strode toward them, clutching a tablet with Gavin and Chris in tow. She held it up. "Let's see what's on this baby."
They hooked the tablet up to a terminal and uploaded the files. Connor scanned the information—cause of shutdown, evidence of hacking (which required further scanning and investigation), approximate time of hacking—and furrowed his brow at something rather interesting.
"Kamski found an insignia etched into the androids' thirium pump regulators," Connor showed the picture of the insignia to his team. It looked like a capital T, except with extended serifs and a slightly hooked bottom. He scanned the letter for an origin or significance. It resembled the Greek letter Tau. The bottom of the hooked tail was a snake's head.
"Well, that's definitely a signature if I ever saw one," said Hank, folding his arms.
"A pretty damn intricate signature," said Tina, narrowing her eyes as she examined the insignia closer.
"So, either this is one cocky son of a bitch, or…" Gavin shrugged.
"Or an organized group." Chris folded his arms and puffed out his cheeks.
"Well, we've gotta start searching for anywhere this symbol's popped up. We've got to start finding connections between our victims or this symbol, or we're going to be too late in catching him the next time he decides to kill," said Hank.
Connor dipped his head. The team turned to their terminals to try and find some sort of connection, or something to indicate this symbol's origin and meaning. But his mental processor never wavered from Wren. No word from her or Rhett. He couldn't shake the feeling that something happened to her, and he encouraged her to endanger herself. For what? A slim possibility that Prometheus kept her medical files and there might be something to help free her? It seemed silly now. It seemed quite obvious that it was practically impossible—
[New message from Unnamed Group]
Connor opened his phone.
Josh: Avengers, assemble!
North: rA9, you're lame. Anyone up for game night? Or dinner?
North: Tonight, btw.
Markus: I also have some propositions for a bill that I would like to run by the HAD. It's pretty urgent, so whoever is available, I'd really appreciate your coming.
Tina: I'm down. Is Chloe okay to come?
Markus: If she's up for it.
Gavin: yeah, sounds good.
Chris: I can't. Sorry, this was just so last-minute.
Markus: I understand.
Markus: Connor, Hank?
Connor: We'll be there.
North: Great! We can meet at Jericho and get dinner with our human friends and then discuss it.
Tina: It's not top-secret?
Markus: We'll go back to Jericho.
Tina: Makes sense.
Connor placed his phone out of reach and continued working while the others decided where they would meet. Connor felt empty inside. He didn't want to meet with his friends, but he also didn't want to go home and listen to Wren's iPod. Nothing interested him. He wished he knew Prometheus's location. He would go there himself and get Wren out.
When evening arrived, Connor and the others met up with the Jericho leaders, and piled into their van. Connor didn't see the point in riding together to the restaurant, as they would all need to return to their cars later, but as Markus diverged from the route to the restaurant. Connor puckered his brow and estimated the direction they seemed like they were traveling. His thirium pump jolted: CyberLife Tower.
North twisted in her seat to look at everyone in the back. She placed a finger over her lips before Gavin could open his stupid mouth and say something. Connor exchanged a glance with Hank before getting out of the van. The group journeyed to the secure room, where Kamski and Rhett waited. Connor's synthetic heart lurched. He curled his hands into fists.
As soon as the door closed, Connor said, "Did she get it?"
Rhett pursed his lips and withdrew a flash drive from his pocket. "Broke her ribs to get it, but yeah."
"Have you looked at it yet?" North asked.
"No. Before we get started, I want to make sure that we're all in this together. Whatever we see on this, stays among us, in this room."
Tina gripped Chloe's hand as she eyed North. "I wish I'd known we were meeting about this stuff. I wouldn't have brought Chloe."
"I'm okay, Tina," said Chloe. She smiled and placed her hand over Tina's. "I want to be part of this. I want to be part of this with you."
"We have no idea if Prometheus is listening to us or not," North explained. "They could be hacking our phones or something."
"It might be paranoid, but we don't want to leave a paper trail of our meetings," said Josh. "They already listen to everything Wren says. Who knows what else Prometheus could be using to listen to us or watch us."
"We're safe in this room," said Kamski, "but only this room."
Gavin narrowed his eyes. "And how do we know we can trust you, asshole? Last time you told us to leave this alone. Now you wanna help?"
Rhett smirked. "I'm your best chance. You have limited resources, even with Wren on the inside. She's not exactly a free agent. I'd say you don't really have a choice but to trust me."
"Alright, whatever, let's look at the fuckin' records," snapped Hank. "What do we need to find in order to help her?"
"Anything that suggests she signed her contract unwillingly. That'll be enough to free her, but not enough to take Prometheus down. But, she and I have agreed that if we find enough to free her, that's enough for the CIA to launch an official investigation into Prometheus, and so she won't be needed for the undercover work. She'll be free to come home." Rhett's eyes drifted over Connor's friends before settling on Connor himself.
"Well, let's get started," said Gavin, taking seat. Connor followed suit, though he felt robotic. Hank patted his shoulder as Kamski plugged the flash drive in and pulled up the files on the massive monitor mounted on the wall.
Connor narrowed his eyes. The files on the flash drive bore names, and each one held a different amount of data on it. Rhett clicked on the file titled 001HSPTL. Inside the file were video documents. Rhett clicked the third one, tilted PHS3.
A man in a lab coat filled the screen, his voice breaking the silence of the tense room. "Subject shows improvement in her fine motor skills. States that there is less pain in her limbs, but still shows discomfort in other areas where synthetic adjustments have been made to assist her organic functioning." The man moved aside to reveal a woman wearing hospital-issued clothing. Tina gasped, but Connor was too stunned to do anything but widen his eyes. The woman was Wren, but he barely recognized her. She was dangerously skinny. Scars on her arms marked the areas where her original limbs had been amputated. Her cybernetic limbs gleamed white plastic, as they appeared to lack the synthetic fluid to match Wren's skin color. Her head was shaved. Dark circles shadowed her eyes and her lips looked chalky. She stared at the camera, tears in her eyes.
"Subject 001, please walk forward."
Wren lowered her eyes to stare at her plastic feet. She lifted a leg and placed her foot against the floor. Her face crumpled. "I… I can't… feel." She raised her head. "I can't feel anything. I can't feel it. Why can't I feel it?"
"It will take some time for your body to adjust to the enhancements," said the man. "Continue walking, please."
But Wren ignored him, looking at her hands. She flexed her fingers. Curled them into her flawless palms. "I don't feel it… I don't feel anything… No, no, no, it's too numb! This isn't right!" She lifted her head. The pain written on her face sliced through Connor's core. "What have you done to me?"
"Subject still shows signs of mental distress," said the man, eyeing the camera.
"What have you done to me?" Wren screamed.
"Sedate her!"
Two male nurses grabbed Wren—which Connor thought unnecessary, as she did not put up a fight—and plunged a needle into her while she sobbed. She slumped over after a few moments. The man in the lab coat filled the camera's view. "CY001 has been taken off the medication, so she is now facing her reality in a sober state. She suffers from severe anxiety and depression, both from her past carried over and due to her new bodily state. She has not adjusted to the enhancements mentally. I am hopeful that she will, but we must be prepared to terminate her if need be."
The video ended. Connor's artificial heart pounded. Physical pain was not something androids experienced the same way humans did, but certain emotions could only be described as painful. Anxiety was one of them, Connor noted as his heart spiked. Rhett exited the HSPTL file and opened up the one below it called 001CNDTNNG. He clicked on the second video.
The same man in the lab coat filled the screen, though he seemed to be sitting in his office, reading off his notes. "Subject CY001 shows great resilience to the training. While her mental processors are working to enhance the effects of her post traumatic amnesia, she still shows signs of resistance to the conditioning. We had some success in getting her to forget her identity, though she still clings to her name. Alternative action must be taken. Montgomery wants to put her in the hole, but I am not certain that is wise right now, as she is still in a very fragile state. I don't want to break her mind entirely, as she will no longer be useful and well have wasted money. I will continue to use electroshock therapy for the time being."
"Oh my God," breathed Tina. Connor's hands shook, so he clasped them together. Rhett opened a different file titled 001TRNNG. He clicked on PHS14.
The scientist did not greet them this time. Instead, it was a video of Wren in a room that looked a bit like a dance studio. Wren's hair had grown since the 001HSPTLPHS3 video. She was no longer dangerously skinny, either. She wore a blindfold, but Connor still made out the shadows of bruises on the right side of her face. Her lip was busted, too. Bruises darkened other parts of her body. She stood extremely still as someone circled her. The man gripped what looked like a switch of some sort. He circled a few times, and then he attacked. Wren reacted quickly, though the switch slapped her upper arm, producing an angry welt. She gripped the switch and swung her leg over it and the man's wrist. Twisting, Wren brought the man down onto the gym mat.
"Sloppy," said another male voice offscreen. Connor tensed, recognizing Atlas Montgomery's voice. Atlas walked into view and grabbed a handful of Wren's short hair. "You are not listening for the attack. You're not paying attention!" He shoved Wren to the floor and moved offscreen. "Again, until you get it right."
Before Wren could stand, the other man with the switch attacked. Wren scrambled out of the way and brought her attacker down. Atlas yelled at her from offscreen that she was still sloppy, but Wren dodged another whip from her attacker. He tackled her to the floor. He hit her so hard with the whip that he drew blood.
"Shut it off," snapped Hank. Rhett closed out of the video before it ended. The image of someone beating Wren burned Connor's processor.
"Open that file," whispered North.
Rhett clicked on the one she gestured to, a file titled SUBCY001. It was a document this time. Much of the information was blacked out, but it looked like a file on Wren's background.
Name: Isabelle Wrenley Blanchard
Age: 27
There was other information, like Wren's height and weight and identifying tattoos. Connor read through the document, pausing at certain parts:
- Subject shows signs of resilience, will prove useful if ever captured.
- Subject has spent 13 days in the hole, seems more compliant now.
- Subject's previous advanced knowledge of dance and intermediate skill in martial arts is useful.
- Subject has accepted her name as CY001.
- Subject passed Interrogation Training, even proving resilient against torture.
- Subject shows an aversion to water.
- Subject possesses a fear of driving; alternative approach needed.
Connor finished reading through the document. At the end were pictures of Wren, some of which he had seen before. Her mugshot glared at him, but he drank in her visage regardless. The next picture showed Wren in the hospital just after her accident. If Connor could throw up, he would. He couldn't recognize Wren at all due to her injuries.
"Go to the next one," barked Gavin, his eyes averted from the screen.
"Sorry," croaked Rhett. He exited out of the document and faced everyone. Connor blinked as he tried to focus on the faces of his friends, but his vision slipped in and out of focus. He ran a diagnostic to ensure that his systems functioned properly. Nothing seemed wrong with his systems.
Even Kamski seemed shaken by what he'd seen. North cleared her throat. "We have to go through all of it."
"I… I don't know if I can," whispered Tina. She gripped the edge of her seat with both hands, a slight green tinge in her cheeks.
"Me neither," muttered Hank. He buried his face in his hands before lifting his head. He offered Connor a sad smile. "She's… I can't see her like that."
Connor dipped his head. He understood. RA9, he knew. Seeing Wren like that tore him apart. But he also knew what Wren felt in some of her memories. He interfaced with her before, reliving some of her darkest moments. He knew how she felt. He remembered the terror, the disgust, the anger, the desperation. Connor couldn't decide if knowing how Wren felt during some of these moments made it better or worse. All he knew was that he couldn't ignore this. He would go through the files with a fine-toothed comb. He would do whatever it took to save her. She needed him, so he would be strong for her.
"I'll do it," he managed.
Nine pairs of eyes turned to him. Connor's face burned. North's brow pinched. "Connor, no—"
"She needs someone to do it," Connor urged, "and she needs someone with the abilities to catch something important."
"We do that all the time at the DPD, asshole," muttered Gavin.
"Connor, you shouldn't have to watch all this," said Markus, shaking his head.
"I can do this," Connor snapped. He lowered his gaze. "I have to."
"You're not doing this alone," said North.
"Yeah," added Josh, "the androids can stay and go through the files. We don't really need sleep like you guys do."
Gavin pressed his lips together and nodded. Hank shifted, catching Connor's gaze. "Are you sure you're good to do this? You don't have to prove anything."
Connor gritted his teeth before answering. "I'm okay. I'll see you when we finish."
…
Connor's eyes burned and his body shook. Though he knew it illogical, he couldn't help but the stab of guilt for not preventing the pain Wren experienced. It was extremely illogical—he hadn't even been alive when she went through all of this—but some part of still wished he could reverse time and pull Wren out of the situation entirely. They watched the files out of order, starting with Wren's documentations of her missions. In these videos, Wren's hair was longer, closer to the length it had been when Connor first met her. She always reported in a professional manner, acting much as Connor had pre-deviancy.
"CIA already knows about some of these," said Rhett. His voice seemed ragged. Rhett was the only human to stay behind, insisting that it was important for him, as head of the investigation, to be present.
"Most likely they made her sign her contract while she was in the hospital," said Josh.
Rhett sighed. "Yeah. I know. It's just… seeing Wren like that…"
"We know," barked North, "she's our friend."
Rhett met her gaze. "Yeah, but she wasn't too happy about her cybernetic enhancements at first. Just… make sure you don't take it too personally, okay?"
Connor merely flattened his lips. He tried to ignore the fluttering in his chest. He wished he could vomit like humans did, to purge his systems of the disgust. Instead, he clenched his fists tighter, longing for pain to distract him as Rhett opened up the file and clicked on the first video.
The man in the lab coat sat in the camera's view. He looked over an older model of tablet. "Subject just came out of surgery. So far, CY001 is a success, but she is still unconscious. There were a few complications, as she flatlined on the way to the hospital and once again during the procedure, but she normalized once we were able to stop the bleeding. We will not know for sure until she is conscious, but even then, she will be heavily sedated."
The screen blacked out and then the man reappeared. "It's been a few days since the operation. CY001, as expected, is in a tremendous amount of pain, so we've kept her sedated. From what I can tell, her body seems to accept the cybernetic enhancements."
The screen flitted again. Facial hair shadowed the man's jawline. "CY001's body accepts the enhancements, but her mental and emotional state do not. She is in a lot of pain, physically and emotionally. She claims she can't remember who she is, and that all she knows is the accident. I believe she is suffering from post-traumatic amnesia, but all of her memories should return within the year."
When the scene changed again, Wren appeared onscreen. The man sat beside her while she rested in bed, a nasal cannula wrapped around her face. Her head appeared freshly shaven. Connor struggled to swallow the lump in his throat. His poor Wren…
"Can you tell me your name?" asked the doctor.
Wren squinted at him. The yellowed bruising of her face indicated the beginnings of healing. "Isabelle… Blanchard."
"Isabelle, what can you tell me about the accident?"
"I already told you what I remember."
"I'd like to see if anything's come back to you."
"I was driving, and… I was upset… and it was raining, and then I saw headlights… I couldn't stop the car, and I didn't really feel anything except falling. I don't remember anything else."
"Okay, good," said the doctor, typing down what Wren said onto his tablet. "From which way were the headlights coming?"
Wren narrowed her eyes. "The left."
The doctor frowned. "Isabelle, where you were found, that's not possible. There's no road to the side, no intersection."
"Maybe they swerved or something, but I know they hit me from the side."
"Well, I suppose it's a mystery."
"Wait," Wren called. The doctor stopped mid-stride toward the camera. "I can't remember anything else. I… I only know my name."
"Yes… I believe you're experiencing some sort of amnesia induced by your concussion."
"Will I… Will I remember? Can you scan the license plate of my car to find out who I was?"
The doctor eyed the camera for several seconds before turning to Wren. "I'm not a detective."
The screen blacked out again, and then the doctor appeared onscreen again. "Subject keeps asking about who she is and why she can't remember anything. Her mental state is deteriorating. She often succumbs to severe panic attacks, so we've had to continue sedating her. We keep a close watch on her."
The screen blinked to reveal security camera footage of Wren alone in her hospital room. She looked down at her white, plastic hands. She rubbed her glossy palms against the sheets and shook her head repeatedly. "No, no, no, no, no… It's too numb… Too muted… It's not right. It's not right! I don't want them!" She climbed out of bed, but her new limbs and body had never coordinated like this, and so she fell onto the floor. She let out a strained cry and tried to drag herself, but she was still too weak. Male nurses burst into the room, one of whom held a syringe, which he plunged into Wren's skin. She went limp after several moments. One of the nurses laid Wren on the bed.
PHS2 of the video file documented Wren's distress even further. At one point, she tried to cut her own hand off, but the male nurses stopped her. She spent much of her time restrained to the bed. Everyday, the doctor drilled her on what she could or could not remember.
"Why did you do this to me?" Wren sobbed.
"We saved your life," said the doctor. "You were going to die if we didn't help you."
"I'd rather be dead!" snarled Wren.
The doctor's smile tightened. "You're upset." He injected something into Wren's IV.
"No, I don't want it…" Wren mumbled.
"It'll make you feel better."
Chloe tilted her head. "He did that against her consent. Is that something that can help?"
"It's not enough," Rhett replied, dragging a hand over his face.
"So, she didn't sign up for this before surgery, so when did she sign the contract? Wren doesn't remember signing it now, which means it happened post-surgery at least. Most of her memories are solid after her surgery," said Josh, standing and pacing in front of the screen, his hands on his hips. He faced them. "What if they didn't record it?"
"They've documented a great deal," said Rhett. "I think it's here."
"But if they kept her heavily sedated and documented her signing a contract, wouldn't they get rid of that evidence?"
Rhett steepled his fingers. "I don't know."
"Maybe we should stop for now," said Markus.
"No." Connor blinked, realizing he snapped at his friends. He closed his eyes for a moment. "I'll stay."
"You're not doing this alone," argued North.
"If you want to keep going, of course we will," said Chloe, placing her hand over Connor's. He glanced at her hand before meeting her dark blue eyes. She smiled kindly. "I can't imagine how you must feel right now. If I had to see Tina go through anything like this…" Chloe shuddered as she looked toward the screen.
Connor leaned forward and balanced his elbows on his knees. "Let's keep going."
The next few videos showed similar footage of Wren attempting to walk and use her fine motor skills. It seemed as though Prometheus had not documented Wren's signing of her contract. The doctor was growing a beard as Wren spent the majority of the videos in various states of distress and sedation.
"Subject's amnesia is still present. I fear her mental state is beyond repair. She's begun to starve herself."
Rhett paused the next video. "I need a break." He stepped out of the secure room, presumably to go to the bathroom or walk up and down the hall.
Markus stood and gestured for Connor to follow him. Frowning, Connor obliged. They left the room and entered the hall. Markus led Connor down the corridor and around the corner. A guard at the end of the hall watched them, but was well out of earshot.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
Connor tightened his jaw for a moment. "I really wish people would stop asking me that."
"You don't look okay," said Markus, his brow puckering. "Your LED has been switching from yellow to red all night. Wren is my friend, and this is difficult for me to watch. I can only imagine how you must feel."
Connor bowed his head. "It doesn't matter how I feel. All that matters is that we find something to save Wren."
"Okay, but what you feel does matter. These videos are only going to get worse."
"I know."
"Why not trust us to find what we need?"
"Because I have to do this," Connor snapped. He jerked his head up. "I have to do this, Markus. I can't… I can't go home and go into standby. I can't go home and wait this out. I can't focus on anything anymore. I finally have a chance to do something, a purpose, so I can't sit this one out."
Markus lowered his heterochromatic eyes. "Okay. I understand."
Connor dipped his head and led the way to the secure room. Rhett had returned, his eyes bloodshot. He pursed his lips in greeting. Markus locked the door behind him. Rhett pressed play on the computer, and they resumed their watch.
It wasn't until PHS4 of the HSPTL file that they finally found something.
Ellis Hughman entered the hospital room. Wren looked even skinnier, the bones of her collarbone and cheeks more prominent than usual. She almost didn't fit her cybernetic limbs.
"Dr. Trevor says that you don't remember who you are," said Ellis, sitting beside Wren's bed. She eyed him, attempting to look dangerous. Instead she just seemed tired. Ellis glanced at her IV. "You're still medicated for the pain?"
"Only when it's intense," said Wren. "What do you want? Who are you? Have you figured out who I am?"
"I'm afraid the car you were driving was stolen," said Ellis. Wren's brow twitched and she lowered her gaze. Ellis gazed at her for a few seconds before continuing. "You've been here for about four weeks now. You're healing nicely. It really is a miracle—"
"Cut the bullshit," Wren seethed. "Why me? Why did you do this to me?"
"To you?" Ellis's lips twitched with a barely contained snarl. "We did this for you. You were so close to death we could smell it on you. If you had survived, you never would've walked again."
"But why me?" Wren's eyes filled with tears. "Why save me? If I was just some petty criminal driving around in a stolen car, why do this for me? It doesn't make sense—"
"I can see that you're upset," said Ellis. He looked at someone off camera and nodded. A male nurse injected something into Wren's IV. She puckered her brow.
"No, I don't want it—"
Ellis grabbed her wrists to keep her from yanking the IV out. "I work for an organization that specializes in covert operations. We protect national security without the red tape. When CyberLife found you in the wreckage, I knew this would be a good opportunity to test out our newest equipment."
"I'm an experiment?" Wren shook her head, looking woozy.
"Think about it: you could turn your life around and serve your country instead of being a nuisance and petty criminal. You don't remember your old life anyway. We saved your life. It's only fair that you give us years of service in return."
"Didn't want…" Wren struggled to keep her eyes open. Ellis leaned closer.
"We found Red Ice in your system and the trunk of your car. The truth is, you didn't have a life to go back to. You were just some lowlife criminal. You were worthless. We can make you something, someone capable of doing good. You could save lives. You could be a hero. We can give you a new life, one that means something."
Wren's brow pinched and she peered at Ellis through half-lidded eyes. Ellis leaned even closer, his face hovering inches away from Wren's. "You owe us for saving your life. You owe your country."
"I… I just want to go home."
Ellis drew back, looking severely disappointed. "Fine. Just sign this. It's an agreement to pay off your enhancements. We'll discharge you from the hospital soon." He held out a clipboard. Wren frowned as Ellis forced a pen in her hand. She signed her name sloppily, and the video ended.
Rhett quickly opened up the next video. This time, the setting was the doctor's office, with Ellis Hughman and Pauline Thomas.
"She doesn't remember signing the contract," said the doctor.
Pauline folded her arms and shook her head. "You should've convinced her to sign it, not trick her. I hope this doesn't come back to bite us in the ass…"
"It won't," snapped Ellis. "The medication we're giving her can cause memory loss. She wasn't in her right mind. I know what I'm doing, Pauline."
"Do I have to remind you that she's the first one of your little experiments to work?"
Ellis rubbed his chin. "I know, I know. Lot of resources went into this. But this has worked. Isabelle Blanchard is the perfect subject. She's got a background in dance and martial arts, she was running away from something—"
"I know, Hughman," snapped Pauline. She pressed her lips together for a moment. "You're sure this will work? If she's not a willing participant…"
"It'll work," said Ellis. "It works for CIA; it'll work when Montgomery gets to work on her. Plus, her programming will help steer her mind whichever way you want it. That accident messed her up a lot. She will be easy to control."
Pauline dipped her head. "Very well. I'll let Atlas know he can begin within the week."
The video ended, and Rhett faced Connor, Markus, North, Josh, and Chloe. Rhett dragged a hand through his hair. Connor's biocomponents trembled.
"They fucking tricked her," Rhett breathed. "Wren definitely didn't consent to that."
"So this is it? We can get her out?" North bounced on the edge of her seat, looking brighter than she had in weeks.
"I have to show this to my superiors…"
"No," barked Connor. Everyone looked at him.
Markus furrowed his brow. "Connor, this is our chance—"
"We said we could only trust each other," said Connor. "Wren always said that the supervisors were people with a lot of power."
"Are you suggesting that someone in the CIA is involved?" Rhett scowled as he stepped forward, his arms folded.
"I'm suggesting it's possible," Connor replied. "I think for now, we need to keep going through the footage Wren gave, and then talk to her about what our next step should be."
"You want to wait?" Josh frowned.
"I thought you wanted Wren out more than anybody." Rhett lifted an eyebrow.
"I do," Connor insisted, "but I also don't want to put Wren in anymore danger than necessary."
"Okay, fair enough. We'll keep going through these, but starting tomorrow. I've gotta get some sleep. Even you guys need a break." Rhett's gaze lingered on Connor, who clenched his teeth but nodded.
Connor, Chloe, North, Josh, and Markus returned to Jericho. Connor and Chloe decided to stay there for the night, so as not to bother Tina or Hank. Connor sat on the couch and rubbed his palms together. North folded her arms and plopped down on the armchair. Josh paced back and forth. Markus merely leaned against the wall with crossed arms.
"We don't know what else to look for on those videos," said Josh.
"I think we should just get Wren out. We have what we need, why do we need more?" North narrowed her eyes at Connor.
Connor pursed his lips for a moment. "Because I want to make sure it's absolutely safe to get her out. And we don't know what else is on these files. There could be something else, something more damning."
Markus nodded. "Connor's right. We need to exhaust all our resources and options. Let's recharge. Connor, you've got a case to work on tomorrow, but we'll get back to work on this tomorrow evening."
Connor gazed up at the ceiling while everyone else already entered standby mode. A smile quirked his lips. Finally, warmth blossomed in his chest. Saving Wren was within grasp. When he closed his eyes and entered standby, he hoped he'd dream of Wren.
…
Hey guys! I am so sorry for the lack of updates. I got really busy with school for a second there. (Remember that medieval round table discussion I had? Yeah, one of the other people doing it with me BAILED ON THE MORNING OF so that was super stressful but hey it went well so whatever). But I've finished this semester and am trying to get back into writing! Thank you to everyone who has supported this story, and a special thanks to those of you who checked on me (did I cry? Maybe)! Thank you all for your patience, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Things are starting to heat up!