A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I truly appreciate your support. Thank you also to Rosalie and BK2U, who both reviewed this chapter at different points in time. You're both wonderful! This is a very long chapter, so enjoy...

Chapter 17: Tris – Six

I watch Caleb while we wait, anxious to make sure he's okay. But I know he's not – it's impossible to go through that kind of torture and be fine afterwards.

He sits still, his body sagging as much as possible within his restraints, and I can't tell if he's conscious or not. He's alive, though. That much, at least, is obvious by the way his ragged breathing seems to fill the quiet room.

Memories keep flashing through my mind, starting with the last time my brother and I were prisoners together – when NUSA captured us both during our mission. He wanted me to kill him then, to keep him from being brainwashed by the serum and betraying me, but I couldn't do it. Fortunately, Tobias' broadcast freed us before Caleb's fears had a chance to come true.

I saw my brother in a very different context when I was imprisoned in Erudite. He was one of my tormentors then, causing me pain that isn't too different from what he's faced today. But as I learned later, he also helped me escape. He and Tobias and Peter. I suppose that's why he's still inclined to trust Peter these days.

The last time I was captured before that was with Tobias, during the attack on Abnegation. My mother saved me then, rescuing me from the tank of water I was drowning in. Caleb watched as my father stitched up my wounds.

And before that, I was dragged to Jeanine for questioning when I ran away from Dauntless to talk to Caleb. Tobias rescued me from Eric's wrath afterwards.

I never thought about it before, but Caleb and Tobias are associated with every memory I have of being in a situation like this. Even when I helped Marcus invade Erudite to retrieve Amanda Ritter's video, Caleb was there, trying to stop us – and Tobias got me out of there in the chaos after he played the video.

With the memories comes a realization. As many times as I've been a prisoner, I have never had to escape on my own.

That must explain why part of me expects Tobias to show up today, helping me the way he always has before. But the logical part of my brain knows that won't happen. And that same part says it would be foolish to just wait, broadcasting message after message in the hope that Peter will eventually find me – and do the right thing.

No, I need to find another way to get us out of here.

So, I let my eyes roam the room, looking for anything I can use to my advantage. The opportunities are certainly limited while we're restrained in these chairs, but at some point, our captors will have to move us to another town. And even before that, they'll probably feed us. And let us use the bathroom.

And of course, they'll have me do broadcasts….

My gaze turns to that equipment as I wonder again why Brian's lackeys are so loyal to him. They must have been manipulated by serum and messages – it's obvious in everything about their expressions and their instant, mindless obedience. So, that means one of three things: Tobias' message didn't affect them; or Brian found a way to overcome the effects of it; or they didn't hear it at all.

The first two options seem incredibly unlikely, but something clicks into place when I think of the third. Brian kept changing a knob on the equipment in between each message that he had me broadcast. My eyes find that knob, and I stare at the markings on it – increments of some sort with little notations above some of them.

And I understand. It must control the frequency of the broadcast signal – the channel it uses. And I bet that NUSA's influential families used different channels than the government, so they could project special messages to their staff. They must also have injected different receivers into their staff – or somehow reprogrammed the existing receivers to pick up their channel instead of the official one. The latter option seems more likely, since anyone they hired would have already been injected with the government's receiver as a baby, and they would have needed to disable that.

It's difficult not to smile with my new realization. It doesn't give me an immediate way out of danger, but it does give me the start of a plan. Somehow, I need to change that switch to the right setting while I'm doing a broadcast. That will allow me to transmit a message to Brian's lackeys to override their brainwashing. The same way Tobias did for the rest of the population.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door opening, and I go rigid with dread. Across from me, I see the same reaction in Caleb as he lifts his head, staring at the door in terror.

One of the women who left earlier enters the room, looking somewhat triumphant. My broadcast must have worked well enough to satisfy them for now. I'm not sure if that's good or bad under the circumstances.

"President Larimer," she says with a grin, "will be a while longer. In the meantime, you're to feed these two and let them use the facilities."

Sam just nods at her, but apparently it's enough of a reaction, because she leaves again without further comment.

Looking between me and Caleb, Sam states coldly, "You'll go one at a time, with the same rules as before. If either of you tries anything, we hurt the other. Understand?"

Given the way he snarls the last word, we don't dare say anything other than, "Yes."

They feed me first, freeing my hands but keeping my other restraints in place. It's difficult to choke the food down while looking at Caleb in his seat across from me, but I know I'll need to keep my strength up.

When I finish, Meghan removes my other restraints while Sam holds a knife to Caleb's face. I'm careful to keep my movements slow and deliberate – and not at all threatening – as I rise from the chair. My muscles are stiff from sitting in one position for so long, but I'm not about to complain, not with what my brother has suffered.

Meghan holds my left arm in a vice grip as she takes me out of the room and to a single-person bathroom at the end of the hallway. It quickly becomes obvious that she plans to stay in the room with me.

"I need privacy for this," I comment, feeling heat rising in my cheeks. It's ridiculous that with everything they're doing to us, this should embarrass me, but I spent too long in Abnegation for it not to.

"Too bad," Meghan says spitefully, giving a nasty smirk.

But I hold my ground. "You know I won't cause any trouble while you have my brother out there," I respond, keeping my voice as level as possible. "Besides, it's not like I can escape from here. Why can't you just wait outside the door for me?"

She opens her mouth to answer but then her eyes flit around the bathroom, apparently making sure there's nothing here I could use as a weapon. She must be satisfied that there isn't, because she finally nods and steps outside, closing the door behind her.

As soon as she's gone, I do my own sweep of the room, just in case there is something that could help me, but there's nothing more than toilet paper and soap, and neither of those seems likely to make a good weapon.

I stop by the window, staring out to see if there's anything useful within sight. I already know that we're too far above the ground to jump, but I check to see if there's any way to climb to the roof above us, or anywhere else for that matter. Unfortunately, there isn't.

My eyes move automatically to the closest building, evaluating the windows that face toward this one. We used a ladder to cross between windows when we needed to get into Erudite, and the building next to me now is potentially close enough to do the same thing. But of course, I'd need something to connect them, and I don't have that. Even if I could leave Caleb behind.

I'm just starting to turn away, disappointed, when a movement catches my eye. There's someone standing near the window that faces this one. I can barely see him in the shadows, but when he sees me watching him, he steps closer, returning my gaze. He's not much older than I am, with reddish-blond hair, and he's dressed in the same uniform I saw Lauren wearing earlier. My heart jumps. Is he one of the forces looking for me, trying to rescue me?

For a moment, we both stare, assessing each other. And then he slowly and deliberately salutes me. He recognizes me.

But is he really with Lauren, or is he wearing a fake uniform the same way the two who captured us did? And even if he's truly from Pittsburgh, whose side is he on now, after my broadcast?

Before I have time to decide how to react, he gestures to the roof and moves his hand in a motion like a string coming down before he points clearly next to my window. I cock my head, uncertain what he's indicating. He holds up a gun, in a clearly non-threatening manner, and repeats the gesture as if it's attached to the string.

And I get it. He heard the "extra" information in my broadcast, and he wants to help me, but he knows he can't just barge in without getting me and Caleb killed. Instead, he's trying to get a weapon to me, so I can fight from the inside.

I don't even hesitate. My heart is still pounding wildly, but I nod very clearly. If my unknown ally can get a gun to where I can reach it from this window, I'll retrieve it, and I'll figure out a way to use it to escape.

The young man smiles before he backs out of sight.

Caleb can't seem to eat. He fumbles with the food for a while, his movements slow and clumsy, but it's obvious that he's too nauseous to put much into his stomach.

He stumbles badly when he attempts to walk to the bathroom, and Sam ends up hauling him physically out the door. The sound of retching follows soon afterwards, and I know that Caleb didn't make it to the toilet before losing what little he ate.

I bite my lip, waiting anxiously for him to return. It's not as if I care that our captors will need to clean up my brother's vomit, but I do worry that they'll punish him for making them do that. Part of me also fears that our ally might try to contact Caleb and be spotted in the process.

But nothing eventful seems to happen. When they return, Sam dumps my brother back into the other chair, restraining him again with nothing worse than a sour expression. And Caleb closes his eyes, looking too ill to notice anything right now, let alone to form a silent escape plan with someone in another building.

Clearly, I'm the one who has to get us out of here. But it will help if Caleb knows what's coming. So, as I sit there, staring at his slumped form, I think of all the ways I could potentially communicate with him without our captors noticing.

Unfortunately, we never had a language of our own, the way some siblings do. I think of how Lynn and Shauna were able to understand each other as we spied on Jack Kang, and of the Morse code that Uriah and Zeke used to send each other messages. Caleb and I never did anything like that, and he wasn't there when Uriah taught his code to the rest of us.

Still, Caleb is Erudite. He read far more than I realized growing up, and he seems to have memorized everything he ever read. Maybe, by some strange chance, he learned Morse code…. After all, it can't be that unknown a topic, or Uriah and Zeke would never have come across it. It's worth a try.

I'm careful how I start, just in case our captors happen to know Morse code, too. At first, I just fidget in my seat, as if I'm bored and tired of being restrained. Then, I begin tapping the toes of one foot. That proves too difficult with the positioning of my ankle cuff, so I switch to tapping my fingers. Just two of them, in a pattern.

Over and over, I spell "gun." Our guards clearly don't pick up on it – they're busy doing their own fidgeting as they wait. But eventually I see Caleb's gaze lift to mine. I hold his eyes intensely before dropping my focus to my fingers. I'm sure he does, too.

"We have allies," I spell out carefully, repeating it twice. "I will have a gun after next bathroom trip."

I look up again when I finish that, meeting Caleb's eyes. A small thrill of victory goes through me at the comprehension I see there. He keeps it subdued enough for no one else to notice, but it's clear that he understood me.

After that, I return to random finger tapping, keeping up the act to avoid suspicion. I'm still doing it when Brian returns. He saunters in the door with an expression that's difficult to read, followed by one of his lackeys. I don't know where the others are.

"Well, Tris," Brian hisses, "your broadcast was just barely good enough for me not to punish your brother yet. But you will repeat it now, and this time, you will find a way to make it more convincing, or he will suffer." His eyes meet mine. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," I answer as levelly as I can, trying to ignore the way my heart is racing in panic at the thought. I don't know how many allies I have, but whatever the number is, it's sure to go down with a second broadcast. Particularly if I have to make it stronger this time, and particularly if they've been drinking the serum-infused water in the meantime.

That means that right now is my best time to act.

"But I need to use the bathroom first," I add, managing to look a bit embarrassed by the statement. I fidget in my seat to make it more convincing.

Brian's mouth tightens in annoyance, and for a second I'm sure he's not going to let me, but then he turns to Meghan and gestures that she should take me.

As soon as I'm alone in the bathroom, I turn on the fan to create noise. And then I step silently to the window, sliding it open as quietly as I can. Every creak makes my heart pound harder, but I manage to get it open enough to lean out, looking to the side where my ally pointed earlier. A massive wave of relief – with an accompanying surge of adrenaline – goes through me when I see the gun hanging there. I don't know how he did it, and right now I don't care, but he's given me a fighting chance.

There's a note attached to the string, too, and I glance at it quickly, not daring to stay in this room too long – and certainly not wanting to have Meghan catch me in the middle of this.

"We plan to storm the building five minutes after you take the gun. If this doesn't work, hold up as many fingers as you want minutes."

My eyes turn to where I saw the young man earlier, and sure enough, he's there again. He stares at me, and I stare back, trying to figure out how much time I want. There's no way of knowing what I'll need, and if I guess wrong – either too short or too long – Caleb and I could both die.

My heart is hammering now with the pressure of making an impossible decision. But I have to pick, and my gut instinct says there's more danger if our allies invade the building too soon. Realistically, they can't possibly reach our room in time to stop the four enemies who are already there. No matter how much I don't want to face the thought, I have to take those four out myself. And that will be harder to do if they're more alert because they hear someone coming.

Swallowing hard, I hold up all ten fingers and wait for my ally to nod before I pull the gun from its string. The metal is cold and heavy in my hands, but it no longer paralyzes me the way it did after I shot Will. Tobias helped me through that problem, and if Caleb and I both survive today, I know I'll have him to thank for that.

Ten minutes. I begin the mental countdown as I slide the window shut and shove the gun into my waistband – keeping it toward the back and on my right side. Fortunately, my captors disguised me in large, loose clothing, so the outline of the weapon stays nicely hidden.

Despite the tight timeframe, I take a moment to breathe, preparing myself for what I know I need to do next. There's no way to make this easy, but I have to be Dauntless now, for my brother's sake. More specifically, as I think about it, I need to do what Tobias has always done – put on a front that no one can see past, and ignore my fear in order to help someone I love, no matter what it takes.

I have to be Four now. Or Six, I suppose.

With nine minutes left, I exit the bathroom, keeping my face completely neutral and my movements normal. I'm careful to present my left side to Meghan so she'll grab that arm instinctively, and she does. Then, I stay beside her, instead of in front of her, as she marches me toward the room – to ensure she won't bump into my back and feel the gun there.

Caleb is coughing in pain when I walk through the door, and I can't help but wonder if our captors did anything else to him while I was gone. But his eyes find mine, despite the way he's trying to hunch into his restraints, and in that moment I know that nothing new has happened. He's creating a diversion. I give him an infinitesimal nod to let him know I'm now armed.

His coughing sputters out, only to be followed by a loud groan. "I'm going to be sick again," he says, his voice weak and breathless. He looks at Sam, who is trying to hold a knife to him despite his antics.

"Like I care," Sam snarls in response, but he backs off very slightly as Caleb begins gagging like he's trying hard not to vomit.

The sounds draw the attention of everyone in the room. Even Meghan stares at him, her grip loosening just a little as her focus shifts away from me. She jumps slightly, instinctively, when Caleb abruptly retches onto Sam's feet.

I'm not quite sure how he managed to do that, but there's no doubt that it's effective. Every eye in the room is fixed on him, and on Sam. I take the opportunity to slide the gun from my waistband. No one notices.

Taking a deep breath, I aim directly at Sam's head. There is no time for warnings, and I can't just shoot to injure when we're outnumbered this badly, so I can't let myself think of this man as someone who's been brainwashed by Brian and isn't responsible for his actions. Instead, I think of him as the man who murdered Nigel in cold blood. The man who tortured Caleb and clearly enjoyed it. The man who will kill my brother if I don't kill him first.

The bullet goes through his skull, and then I'm instantly firing at Meghan, too. She's close enough that her blood splatters on my face, and it takes every ounce of resolve I possess to ignore that as I turn to Brian's third guard, making another kill shot before he has time to react.

I face Brian last, aiming directly at his head. He's fumbling with his own weapon, but he stops when he sees my barrel pointing at him.

"I surrender," he says, his voice shaky with fear, as he lifts his hands into the air.

The words make me freeze. I can't shoot him if he's not a threat, but I can't trust him near Caleb, which means I can't have him free my brother, and I can't do that myself while keeping a gun aimed at him. I don't know what to do.

"Take your gun out slowly and drop it on the floor," I hiss at him, trying to think.

He nods, reaching to his side at a glacial pace. Outside the room, I hear the sounds of pounding feet approaching from a distant part of the building. Has it been ten minutes yet?

His fingers close around his gun as his eyes flick toward the door, and I can see the triumph that he tries to hide. No, it hasn't been long enough yet. Brian has helpers coming, and I can't fight him off as well as them.

I open my mouth to say something else – I'm not sure what – when Brian grabs for his gun. There's no hesitation as I pull the trigger.

Wrong answer, I find myself thinking, aiming the words at him the way he snapped them at me earlier, but it's a terrible, spiteful thought, and I don't voice it aloud.

Instead, I race for the door, trying to somehow breathe through the pressure that's filling my chest and threatening to burst out of me. I can't stop whoever's coming just by locking the door, but it will buy us a little time, and I have to at least do that.

Returning to Caleb just as quickly, I remove his restraints with fumbling fingers.

"Remember how to shoot?" I ask him, knowing that he can barely stand, let alone aim right now. But there's no choice. He and I need to hold off whoever gets here before our allies do. Why didn't I stick with five minutes?

"Yeah," he gasps in response as I retrieve the gun from Sam's body and hand it to him. I'm racing toward Brian to collect his weapon, too, since mine is now down four bullets, when Caleb speaks again.

"Beatrice, the broadcast…. You can stop them that way."

My body wheels toward the equipment so fast I almost fall. He's right.

"Watch the door," I call as I leap for the computer, wiring myself to it as rapidly as my fingers can move. I make the same connections that Brian did earlier – the same ones I practiced in the bomb shelter so long ago when we were preparing for our mission. But I make one additional adjustment, moving the dial from "Pop" to "St." I can only hope that means "Staff." The other markings, "No" and "Me," seem less likely.

"Stop!" I shout mentally, projecting my full fear and hope into the signal the way Tobias did eight months ago. "Stop obeying Brian Larimer! He wants to return you to the NUSA days, and that is wrong! We are on the brink of a new government, and we have to move forward. Do not let Brian's lies stop that."

I glance at Caleb, seeing if he's reacting to the message at all. If I'm right about the setting, he shouldn't be able to hear it – and no one should be invading the room. I'm reassured when I see Caleb still staring at the door, waiting.

"Put down your weapons!" I project with the same intensity. "And surrender to the security forces who are loyal to our new government." But I know that's not specific enough. Tobias put me in charge, and like it or not, I have to reiterate that role. "I, Tris Prior, am still your president, not Brian Larimer. Surrender to me, and to those who are loyal to me."

It's a quick message, and it's not nearly as good as Tobias', but it's enough for now. Still, just in case I'm wrong about the setting, I flip the dial to "Pop" for a second broadcast. Caleb freezes instantly, turning toward me and staring, and I know I'm right about it addressing the main population. I shift my message instantly to a more reassuring one, but one that reverses what Brian had me send earlier. One that encourages everyone to continue with the path that Tobias set out for them.

As a precaution, I repeat my more urgent broadcast on the other two settings that are marked. I doubt either of them does anything, but it's better to be safe. By the time I finish, someone is knocking on the door.

"Tris?" a female voice calls loudly. "It's Lauren."

A/N: There are a couple more chapters left in what I've been calling the action sequence. Those will be coming soon. In the meantime, please take a moment to let me know what you thought of this chapter. Reviews always motivate me better than anything else to get me to write and post as often as possible. And I really, really love them...