Rogue will have gone home briefly after leaving gambit behind in New Orleans. While she is there, the first of the attacks will happen, targeting her family. She fights off the FOH and flies her parents off to someplace safe, and in the care of the police. As she is settling them in at a hotel, the team calls and tells her of the other attacks and their flight to the Drake's home.
Theresa sat bolt upright in bed with a gasp. Beside her, her husband snored on, oblivious to her sudden panic. Her eyes whipped around the room as her heart thudded in her chest. Something had woken her up, but she couldn't figure out what it was. She strained her ears, listening for something.
A muffled thud from downstairs made her heart hammer even faster. "Carmine!" she hissed as she shook her husband. "Carmine!"
He snorted and jumped as he came partially awake. "Wha? What is it?"
"I think there's someone in the house!" She breathed in a terrified whisper.
Another thump and a glassy clink made them both jump, and they stared at one another in fear.
"That was the table in the hallway!" She squeaked.
Carmine swung his legs out of the bed. "Call the police, Ter."
She swung around and snatched up the phone. When she hit the button, nothing happened. Dumfounded with fear, she pressed the unresponsive button over and over.
"It doesn't work!" she cried
"Keep your voice down!" he hissed at her as he pressed his ear to the door.
There was a crash in the hallway as a picture was knocked from the wall, and they could hear the whispered admonishment for silence.
Theresa clapped her hands over her mouth as fear tightened her throat and Carmine stared back at her with an expression of such terror she knew it was their lives on the line.
A footstep in the hall shocked them out of their terrified stupor. In a panic-driven burst of speed, Carmine seized the bureau and knocked it onto its side, blocking the door. The sudden crash of the dresser and the shattering of the pictures and knick-knacks that had been on top sounded unnaturally loud, and announced louder than words that the inhabitants of this house were not only awake, but aware of the intruders approaching their bedroom.
Carmine gathered his wife into his arms and backed away from the door as several voices cried out in alarm and chagrin at the commotion caused by the toppled bureau. A moment later, something heavy crashed against the door.
Theresa screamed and sobbed into her husband's shoulder. Carmine held her trembling body against him, his mind racing as he tried to think of what to do. He let out a startled cry as something cold touched the back of his arm, which made Theresa scream again.
The intruders continued to crash against the door, making the pictures on the walls jump and rattle. He looked behind himself and realized that he had backed up against the window.
"The window!" He shouted, letting go of his wife. He turned and threw himself against the pane. It creaked and protested, but slowly raised.
"Help!" He screamed. "Help us!"
"PLEASE!" Cried Theresa "Someone call the Police!"
The crashing against the door came faster now, the wood beginning to crack and split under the constant assault.
The two continued to scream for help for what seemed hours when they realized that the pounding on their bedroom door had stopped. Lights were finally coming on in the neighboring houses up and down the street and they began to feel some hope of rescue.
"Carmine!" Theresa cried, clutching at his shoulder. "Look!"
In the shadows of their yard they could see the dark outlines of several people as they fled the Pryde home. One figure was bearing a box of some sort and had stopped just below their window.
There was a spark of some sort, then a tiny flame in the figure's hands. Another joined the first and held something to the fire. It flared brilliantly and Carmine could clearly see that it was a bottle with a piece of cloth hanging from it. His heart sank as his eyes fell upon the crate of Molotov cocktails at their feet.
The second figure raised the bottle and in that moment, he was revealed to be wearing a dark ski mask. Carmine's eyes locked with his attacker's for a split second before the bottle was launched directly at their window.
"Theresa! GET BACK!" He grabbed his wife by the shoulders and threw himself over the bed, dragging her with him.
The bottle shattered against the window frame, spattering the room in liquid fire. Carmine threw himself over his wife, shielding her as he waited for more to follow. From below the sounds of shattering glass from every room could be clearly heard as their assailants threw more of their homemade bombs through every window and into every room.
The sound of Police sirens could be heard, and the sounds of destruction stopped suddenly to be replaced by the roar of flames. Carmine stood and gazed at his room filling with smoke. Theresa sat sobbing in terror.
"What do we do Carmine! What do we do!"
"Quick!" He yelled, tearing the coverlet off the bed. "Get this wet!" He threw the blanket at her and pointed at the bathroom door. "Get all of this wet!" He shouted as he tore the rest of the bedclothes free.
She snatched up the blankets and flew into their tiny bathroom. She turned on the shower full force and threw everything in.
Carmine snatched a damp towel from the hamper and began to beat at the flames. "Hurry Theresa! We need to put out the fire in the window so we can get out!"
Theresa grabbed up the dripping blankets and tore into the bedroom, tripping as she ran. She gasped and sobbed in panic as she struggled to untangle herself. A moment later, Carmine was there pulling her into his arms and holding her tight against his chest.
"It's gonna be ok, babe," he said into her ear. "but you gotta calm down and help me with this, OK? We're gonna be alright."
She clung to him and sobbed into his chest. He murmured encouragement to her, galvanizing her to do what she needed to. Together they spread the wet bedclothes over the flames, smothering them instantly. As they approached the doused window, they could see all of their neighbors standing across the street as the Fire Department screeched to a halt in front of their house.
They screamed and cried for help, waving frantically with the scorched towel.
"There they are!" cried someone in the crowd.
As one, the firemen turned. Half a heartbeat later they flew into action. As the truck's ladder unfolded and turned toward where they stood, Carmine wrapped his arms around his wife.
"We're alright." He panted. "We're going to be alright."
"Thank God Katherine is at the school!" She wept with relief.
"Thank God," He agreed.
"Edna! Where are you?"
His voice was drowned in the roar of the downpour as he struggled over uneven ground in search of his wife. He swiped ineffectually at his face as the rain washed blood from the cut on his head into his eyes.
Where could that woman be? He stumbled and fell against a large tree. Confound her stubborn streak. She was probably hurt in the wreck and wandered off to find help while I was out cold.
An unwelcome image of Edna lying hurt and helpless in the pouring rain gripped his heart in an icy fist. He shoved himself away from the tree and hurried on in his search.
"Edna!" he called again. "Answer me!"
A low groan stopped him in his tracks. "Edna?"
"Norton," came the almost inaudible call.
Sick with relief he slipped and skid in the direction her voice had come from. There, lying in the mud lay the woman he'd loved for all of his adult life. With a strangled cry he rushed over and lifted her head and shoulders to rest in his arms. Her face was splattered with mud and there was a large welt on her forehead. Her cheek had a bloody scrape and she lay trembling in his arms.
"Norton," she whispered. "I'm so cold"
He pulled her closer to himself and wrapped his arms around her. His head throbbed and he had trouble focusing. He had to get her warm somehow…
The car! He had to get her to the car!
"Edna, can you walk? Edna!" He shook her gently. Her head rolled lifelessly and his heart stopped. He stared at her for several minutes, terrified until he saw her chest rising and falling as she breathed. He choked back a relieved sob and cradled her close as he struggled to figure out what to do.
There was no way he could carry her, he was too old. And she couldn't walk. "I'll just have to go bring the car here," he muttered to himself.
At that moment, he heard the roar of an engine and the squeal of tires. His head shot up and he stared in horror as the distant silhouette of his car burst into flames. Fading into the distance he could hear cheering and evil laughter.
He watched his car burn and his heart shriveled in his chest. Obviously whomever it was that ran them off the road, didn't want them to survive. There was no way that he could carry Edna a few feet, much less for several miles to find help; Especially not when he was injured himself. And he was weary of flagging down a passing car; what if it was their attackers again! It looked as if their fate was in the hands of a higher power now.
Norton hugged his wife closer as despair washed over him, and he prayed for miracle.
The entire house shook from the force of the men battering at the doors. Their angry voices carried through the wood and molding. Bill and Ronny shoved more furniture in front of the door, blocking out their attackers, but effectively trapping them in the basement.
"Is that gonna hold, dad?" asked Ronny as he eyed their makeshift barricade dubiously.
"I hope so, son," William panted.
"Bobby!" Shouted Storm. "It's Marie! She needs directions to your parent's house!"
He nodded and hit the com control panel, his handsome face creased with worry and impatience.
Storm refocused on her flying. "ETA 2 minutes. Everybody buckle up!"
"Will Marie be joining us, Ororo?" Hank asked quietly from the co-pilot's seat.
"Yeah," she replied, distracted. "She was on her way back to the Mansion. She said she'll meet us at the Drake's"
"What does she mean to do?" He asked delicately.
"I dunno. There was a lot of noise when she called, I couldn't make out half of what she was saying." She glanced back at Bobby who was talking earnestly with one finger in his free ear. "Honestly, she's had training, so she can help. I'm just glad to have more than just the three of us going in"
Hank made a sound of agreement. "Perhaps her training will be of use. From everything we've been able to determine, it's just a group of everyday thugs perpetrating these attacks. I don't think they'll pose much of a threat to her"
Storm smiled humorlessly. "Heads up guys! IR detects multiple bogeys approaching the house!"
Hank focused on his instruments. "I count ten, no, a dozen men in and around the house, but I don't think I see the Drakes…Bobby, do your parents have a cellar?"
"Yeah. They could be in there. I'm getting an irregularly shaped heat signature from the back of the house…It's faint, but I think it's them." Bobby replied anxiously. He sat up and turned his seat away from the IR screen to face forward. "Let's just get there." He growled.
Rogue struggled to hold the flapping piece of paper still as she raced to meet up with the team. She struggled with her resentment of his family for treating Bobby like he was diseased, and her affection for him that let her share in his fear and anxiety for his family. Though she had little use for them, she knew that Bobby still loved them, so she would do whatever she could to help.
Good for you, girl.
She shook her head to clear Danvers' voice from her mind. Her stomach twisted as she remembered why the beautiful blonde woman was such a strong influence in her mind, and she silently berated herself for shunning the woman's hard-won approval.
Unfamiliar with the terrain, Rogue descended slowly to check landmarks and street signs and get her bearings. She was so focused on finding her way that she didn't notice the incredulous stares, or the squealing tires as people stopped to stare at the woman hovering distractedly in the air.
She checked her written directions and took off again. This flying business wasn't so bad, once she stopped fighting it. It felt natural in a really bizarre and inexplicable way, and it was really exhilarating!
Above, the clouds were roiling angrily, streaming toward Rogue's destination. The wind began to pick up and she was knocked flailing by a particularly strong gust. Everything was suddenly spinning uncontrollably and she was falling. She screamed as she plummeted like a rock toward the ground. She knew she was going to hit, but she had no idea what to do. Terrified, she shut down and stopped fighting the inevitable.
NO!
Rogue's body, infused with Danvers' power and backed up with Danvers' mind, took over. Just a few feet from the ground, her fall stopped. She stared at the ground in disbelief, panting hard.
Be more careful, will ya? Damn.
She blushed, a little crestfallen, and threw herself back into flight. She was all tensed up after her fall, and the mechanics of smooth flight were escaping her. Below she saw the flashing lights of a dozen police cruisers as they raced to the Drake's house, too. She clenched her fists angrily. She was taking too long. She tried to squeeze out more speed and only succeeded in nearly knocking herself out of the air again.
Realx already! Your body knows what to do. Chill.
Rogue took a deep breath and willed herself to unclench. As her muscles relaxed, her flight became smoother, more stable. She could feel the difference in the way the air moved around her, and she could almost feel what it was inside her that enabled her to fly.
A flash of lightning and a deafening roar startled her out of her inner musings, and she refocused on the job at hand. The sounds of battle could be heard a few streets over, so she lifted herself above the houses and raced toward the fight.
"I'm going in!"
"Bobby, wait!" Shouted Storm.
He stopped to block an upraised club wielded by a man in dark clothes and a ski mask. He kicked the guy in the stomach and when he fell, Bobby welded his legs to the ground with a block of ice.
"Behind you, lad!" Snarled McCoy.
Bobby whirled in time to see another man in black pointing a gun at him. He threw up his hands to freeze the gun, but a blur of blue fur tackled the man from the side, hurling him several feet away, to land in a crumpled heap against the side of the house, the gun a few feet from his outstretched hand.
Bobby turned to run into the house when McCoy stopped him again. "I know you're impatient son, but there's not much point in bringing them out in the middle of a half dozen enemies." He took the anxious young man by the shoulders consolingly. "I know you're worried about your family, but rushing in there recklessly will only get you hurt or killed."
Bobby glanced away angrily and took a deep, calming breath. A moment later he squared his shoulders and nodded.
McCoy gave his shoulders a bracing squeeze and they turned to face the house.
From behind them came Storm's horrified shout. "BEHIND YOU!"
The two whirled to see the gunman Hank had knocked sprawling standing shakily and aiming the gun at them. McCoy Jumped in front of Bobby and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the impact.
"Oh no you don't!"
They watched in amazement as a streak of red and white hair and brown leather shot out of the sky and pinned the gunman against the house again. They all stared incredulously as Rogue calmly plucked the gun out of his hand and crumpled the barrel with one hand and a screech of metallic protest.
The man flailed desperately at her, his blows seeming to bounce off her as if she were made of stone. Her face twisted with anger, she lifted the struggling man off the ground with one hand, her other arm drawn back to strike him.
Hank's heart faltered. She seemed so angry, and with her surprising strength, she could easily kill this man. He took a step forward to stop her, and she appeared to suddenly check herself. With a contemptuous flick of her wrist she hurled him against the wall.
The man slumped to the ground and didn't move again. Bobby froze him in place for good measure.
McCoy had gone over and picked up the mangled gun that Rogue had taken from the now unconscious man. "Marie, how is this possible?"
Her jaw clenched and her eyes looked stricken. She swallowed hard and turned away quickly. "There's no time to explain now. We've got to save Bobby's family." Without another word she marched into the house, brushing the front door aside as if it were made of cardboard.
There suddenly came a vast, yet familiar whine, and a roaring boom that sounded like thunder. Everything went quiet for several long moments, then the sounds from outside the basement door began to change. The battering against the door ceased, and from above they could hear a terrible snarl of rage that made them shrink back in fear.
Their attackers' angry cries quickly became cries of fear and pain. Several times they could hear the sounds of men shrieking in pain, and they huddled together in fear. There were jarring crashes and muffled thumps, and then the sound of someone rushing down the basement stairs.
"Mom! Dad! Ronny!"
"Bobby!" Madeline cried in relief
"Here son! We're down here!" William called as he scrambled to move the barricade.
The door creaked and groaned as Bobby tried to force it open.
"Hold on Bobby!" yelled Ronny. "We have to move all this stuff!"
The Drakes frantically pushed, shoved, and threw aside the boxes and furniture that kept them safe from the attackers. As the last piece was moved, the door flew open and there stood a handsome, sure, and strong young man who gazed at them with mingled fear and relief.
"Bobby?" Madeline whispered as he caught her in his arms and hugged her tightly. His chest heaved as he gasped with relief. He reached out and pulled his brother and father in and held all of them tightly, tears streaming down his face.
"Bobby!" Called a deep, resonant voice from above. "Did you find them?"
"Yeah! They're alright!" he replied, reluctantly pulling away from them and turning to face his teammate.
A large, hulking blue figure stood at the top of the stairs. "I'm relieved to see you all alright, Mr. and Mrs. Drake." He greeted them in an oddly subdued voice. "The police have arrived. They're taking these men into custody and they would like to take your statements, if you are ready."
William was shocked when he realized who their blue rescuer was. He had known that Bobby was acquainted with him through the school, but he would never have expected to see him doing this kind of "dirty work." Shaking off his preoccupation, he nodded and followed Bobby and the Ambassador into what was left of the living room.
Madeline clapped her hands over her mouth and burst into tears. Bobby hurriedly wrapped his arms around her and whispered comfort to her.
"What are we going to do?" She wailed. "Where will we go?"
"Don't worry Mom." Bobby said softly. "After the police are done we're going to take you all back to the mansion with us. We can protect all of you there."
"That's very kind of you, Bobby." She sniffled. "Especially after the way we've treated you."
"It's alright Mom. All I care about right now is keeping you guys safe."
She squeezed her son, feeling the relief only a mother can feel when an estrangement with her child has been broken, and she once again holds him in her arms. She self-consciously wiped at her eyes and touched his face lovingly.
A uniformed officer stepped into the room. "Mr. and Mrs. Drake? Can we take your statements now?" William stepped up behind his wife and laid an arm around her shoulder. Together, they followed the police officer out of the room.
Ronny stood nervously behind the Easy chair, fidgeting with the folds of the material and glancing anxiously up at his brother from time to time.
Feeling his little brother's discomfort, Bobby stepped over cautiously. "Hey Ron, you alright?"
Ronny nodded and licked his lips. "Look, Bobby…I."
Bobby held up his hand. "Don't sweat it man." He held out his hand as a peace gesture. Ronny hesitantly clasped the offered hand in his own and Bobby pulled him in for a rough embrace.
William stepped into the room and smiled to see his sons making peace. In a gentle and softly regretful voice, he called, "Ronny, the police need to get your statement, too."
The boys separated and Ronny followed his father from the room
.
Once the Drakes and Prydes were settled, the team gathered quietly in the conference room adjoining the Infirmary. Storm was speaking quietly to someone on the phone, when Bobby, Kitty and Rogue came in followed by Logan and Jubilee.
Storm hit the speakerphone button and laid the phone back on its cradle. "Where's Hank?"
"Here, Ororo," He said softly from where he stood in the doorway.
"How are they?" She asked sympathetically.
"They're resting for now. I'd like to get back to them as quickly as possible though."
"Of course," she said with a nod. She then addressed the room in general. "I have Brian and Elisabeth Braddock on the line. I've explained the situation to them and they've agreed to help us relocate the families."
"It's our pleasure," Spoke a deep masculine voice. "I'm sorry to hear of this cowardly attack. Have all the families been accounted for?"
"Yes. And most have already been evacuated from their homes. Mr. and Mrs. McCoy were the last to be located. They're here under Hank's care, now."
"Oh, Hank!" came a low, resonant woman's voice. "Please give them my warmest regards. I look forward to seeing them again."
"Thank you, Elizabeth." McCoy said, sounding a little confused. "Will you be visiting soon?"
"Ah, no," She replied, also sounding confused. "It was my understanding they would be coming here."
Everyone looked to Storm.
"We were just discussing the relocation of the team's families. I thought it might be best if your parents were placed with someone familiar, Hank. I took the liberty of asking Betsy and Brian if they'd be willing to take them in."
His brow furrowed in displeasure, but he didn't speak.
"It is entirely up to you and your parents, Hank. We're just exploring options here."
He took a deep breath and his features smoothed out a little. "Of course, Ororo. I understand."
Storm took a deep breath and addressed the room in general.
"So far, all of our families have been accounted for. The Police have sent officers to check on all the families of the students, and it appears that only the families of the Team have been attacked. Thankfully, aside from the injuries sustained by Hank's parents, no one else has been hurt."
"Not for a lack of trying," grumbled Bobby.
Storm nodded, her expression grave. "He's right. These attacks were not random acts of vandalism. Someone planned this out with the intent to kill. None of our families were meant to survive this."
"But who would do something like this? Why?" Asked Rogue
"We don't know yet. The Police are questioning the men we stopped at the Drakes' house. They promised to let us know when they know something."
There was a general snort of derision from everyone in the room and Storm nodded with a crooked smile of agreement.
"So now what?" Warren asked quietly. "My family is safe enough. There's so much security around them that these…people didn't even bother with them, but what about everyone else?"
Storm flipped through some papers on the desk in front of her and picked up a sheet with hastily scribbled notes all over it.
"The Braddocks and I have put together a list of people friendly to us who may be able to help. Frankly, this was far too well planned, and it's only due to ineptitude on the part of the ones who actually made the attacks that anyone survived. They knew names, faces, addresses and the layouts of the houses. I'm afraid we're going to have to relocate everyone."
The room fell into a troubled silence as they all started to grasp the implications of such a move.
"But if they know who our families are, what good would relocation do?" Asked Kitty.
Storm glanced up at McCoy. "Hank, what would it take to get everyone new identities?"
He frowned thoughtfully, clearly disliking the direction the meeting was taking. "I suppose it wouldn't be difficult to get them new identities through the witness protection program. However I don't think the government would be willing to provide monetary support, seeing as how they will not be witnessing to anything."
"But the government can get them new identities and the paperwork to go with them? And perhaps help them to find decent jobs?"
"I'm certain of it."
Bobby shook his head stubbornly. "It's not going to work. All they'd have to do is trace an email, peek at our mail, or wait for one of us to go for a visit, to find them again."
Storm's face creased with pain. "That's why you won't be able to do any of those things, Bobby," She said softly. "This will have to be an indefinite, if not permanent separation."
There was a vast, stunned silence as everyone finally grasped the full extent of what was being planned.
"No…there has to be another way!" Kitty whispered as she seized Jubilee's hand.
Hank fell back against the doorframe with an haunted expression, and Rogue carefully laid a hand on Bobby's shoulder in support. "Do we even have confirmation that they all have places to go?" She asked unwillingly.
"Not yet," Storm answered with a shake of her head. "We'll make all of our phone calls in the morning, and compile a list of confirmed safe houses, and then we'll bring the families in on it so you and they can make the final decisions on what and where."
Elisabeth Braddock broke the stunned silence then. "Brian and I will start making calls to our friends here right now. We'll call you in about 12 hours with our list." She sniffled softly and continued in a voice heavy with sympathy. "I'm so very sorry for you all." She said simply.
Storm wiped at her eyes. "Thank you Elisabeth. We'll talk to you in 12 hours."
It was the abnormal quiet that brought her partially awake. Still mostly asleep, she groggily tried to figure out what it was that was missing. She was annoyed and it bothered her enough that she grudgingly roused herself.
As she came slowly awake, she realized that her head hurt. She frowned against the pain and grunted softly.
"Mother, can you hear me?" said a familiar voice as a huge, warm hand gently picked up her own
"Henry?" She murmured sleepily.
There was a gusty sigh of relief and some light pressure on the inside of her wrist. "Thank heavens!" He whispered vehemently.
She opened her eyes and found that she had to struggle to focus on his beloved face. "Son, where am I?"
He smiled and gently touched her face. "You're at the Institute, Mom. You and Dad were in an accident."
An accident? She thought. "Norton!" She gasped, trying weakly to sit up. "Where is your father? Is he Okay?"
Henry gently pushed her back down and took her hand again. "Dad's alright. He's just gone upstairs for some breakfast."
She laid a hand to her forehead in relief and winced when her fingers brushed against a goose egg just above her hairline. She gently probed the extent of the damage with her fingertips. "What happened, Son?"
He sank tiredly into the chair next to her bed and quietly told her the events of the previous day. She listened, horrified as he described the attacks on his friends' families, and wondered at her own survival. Blessedly, she couldn't remember anything beyond getting into the car with Norton the previous night.
He then quietly explained the plans being laid out for them all. Though her own heart broke to know that she and Norton would soon have to leave their only son behind, the sight of her boy's haggard expression enabled her to shove her own sorrow aside so that she could comfort him.
She held her arms out to him and he wrapped his own around her, weeping against her chest. It tore at her very soul to see the powerful figure of a man he'd become, reduced to such hopeless tears. Yet at the same time, it made her heart swell to know that he still loved his parents so much. She held him and crooned to him like she had when he was just a boy.
"Shhh…there there son. It's not as bad as all that." She murmured as she patted his shoulder comfortingly.
"I'm sorry, Mother," He sniffled, reaching for a tissue. "It was terrible when I couldn't find you, and then I was so relieved when the police found you, only to find that I'm going to lose you both again so soon…"
She touched his face tenderly, her eyes burning with shared sorrow. "This won't be as permanent as you think, son. You'll see.
He pressed his face into her hand and closed his eyes. She watched patiently as he struggled to pull himself together. He wiped at his eyes and blew his nose, all business again.
"How are you feeling, Mother?" He asked, shining a light into her eyes and gently probing her aching head.
She sighed and let him do his Doctor thing. When he was satisfied, he used the phone on the wall and asked someone to send her breakfast down with his Father. She gestured to the seat next to her and tried to distract him with some conversation.
As they spoke, she gazed at him fondly. He always spoke so eloquently, and he was as intelligent as he was handsome. Though she knew that most folks found him intimidating, and could not get past his present coloring, she had always felt that he was strikingly handsome
Here Norton will return with breakfast, and they will eat and converse as they did when hank was still living at home. Edna will ask about Anna, and Hank will mention that he occasionally stays there at night. Norton will disapprove, but hank will assure them both that Anna is a dear frined and the entire situation is proper.
Edna will notice how he speaks of her, and believes that there is more to the friendship than he realizes. He grows somber as he realizes that he will have to break off his association with Anna, and his parents urge him to think about it carefully before he makes any final decisions on that front.
Not wanting to monopolize what little time he has left with his parents with a somber mood, Hank does his best to keep things light. He spends all the time he can with them, barely leaving them to sleep.
The final goodbyes are tearful, but Edna encourages them all. "You are clever, you will find a way to stay in touch with us, and remain undetected. We have faith in you all."