Chapter Three

The morning of the next day, the door to Isobel's office slammed open with a force that made her look up in surprise. Maggie stood in the doorway, her face flushed with frustration, and her eyes sharp with anger.

"Isobel, I need answers. Now," Maggie demanded, her voice low but fierce.

Jubal, immediately stood up and followed Maggie's inside, sensing her frustration.

Isobel, who usually exuded a calm and collected demeanor, didn't flinch. Instead, she motioned toward the door. "Maggie, come in. Close the door."

Maggie's anger simmered as she followed Isobel's instructions, shutting the door with a sharp snap. She turned to face Isobel, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"Who the hell is Jane?" Maggie demanded, her voice laced with frustration. "She read up on us but we know nothing about her. What is going on here?"

Isobel's eyes hardened at the mention of Jane's behavior. "Sit down, Maggie. This isn't easy to explain," Isobel said quietly, but with a tinge of unease. She paused for a moment, composing herself before continuing.

Jubal stepped forward, his gaze fixed on Isobel. "Michelle hacked us, I should've seen that one. Don't you think they should know?" he asked, using a name that made Maggie's eyebrows shoot up in confusion.

Isobel let out a breath, and Maggie noticed for the first time that her usual calm was gone—there was something heavy in her eyes. "I need you to understand something very important," she began. "The woman you know as Jane—she's not just some civilian. She's my daughter."

Maggie froze, her mind struggling to process the information. "Your daughter?!" she repeated, the shock evident in her voice. She stared at Isobel, waiting for some kind of clarification. "Wait, you have a child?"

Isobel sighed deeply, her shoulders tense. She lowered her gaze for a moment before meeting Maggie's eyes. "A few weeks ago, Michelle was attacked. She was leaving her office building in New York when it happened. Her security team fought back and managed to save her, but not before they captured one of the attackers. We got some information from him before he lawyered up, but the real story came when he revealed that the people behind the attack were paid to kidnap Michelle."

Maggie's jaw clenched. Kidnap. The word hit her like a punch in the stomach. She tried to hold back the surge of concern that bubbled up within her.

"Why would they want to kidnap her?" Maggie asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Isobel's gaze darkened, and her voice lowered. "Because of the software she developed. Michelle created a missile system that no one else has been able to replicate, not even the group that worked with her. They were all, 5, found killed. Every attempt to recreate it has failed."

Maggie's mind was reeling. This was bigger than she had anticipated. "But Michelle never told anyone, not even us, how she made it?" Maggie asked, trying to piece it all together.

"No," Isobel replied, her voice tight. "She kept it to herself. She was adamant about it. And now we know why. Every organization—the CIA, the DOD, and other foreign powers—they all want her alive. Not just for her knowledge but because they know it's the only way to gain control over that software."

Maggie stood there, stunned. Her mind was racing, trying to make sense of the gravity of the situation.

"And it gets worse," Isobel continued, her voice tense. "One of our own, here in the FBI, is leaking information about Michelle, her whereabouts, everything. I can't trust anyone. It's the only way to keep her alive."

Maggie's head was spinning. She had suspected something bigger was at play, but this… this was a whole different level. "I'm sorry for coming hard on you."

"It's okay," Isobel confirmed, her tone hard.

Isobel watched them both for a moment before turning her gaze back to Maggie. "So, how is Michelle doing?" Her tone had shifted—more concerned, more maternal now. "I know she can become very difficult when she is worried or stressed."

Maggie was quiet for a moment as she recalled her interactions with Jane—Michelle. She remembered how difficult it had been to keep her entertained, to keep her from spiraling into more self-destructive behavior. But she also recalled the moments when Michelle seemed vulnerable, confused, even a little frightened.

"She's... adjusting," Maggie said slowly, her mind still trying to catch up. "I don't think she trusts us. I mean, she barely trusts anyone. But she's not as cold as she comes off. I think she's just scared... and in pain, in more ways than one."

Isobel nodded, her expression softening. "She's not the same person she was before the attack. But she'll get there. You'll see."

As she turned to leave, she could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on her.

Maggie Bell stepped into the safe house, the familiar scent of quiet tension greeting her. It had been a long day, and all she wanted was a moment of peace. But as she rounded the corner, her eyes landed on a surprising scene.

Michelle—her cover name Jane—was sitting across from OA at the dining table, their attention focused intently on a chessboard. Maggie paused, watching them both for a moment. Michelle was laughing at something OA had said, and for once, it seemed like she wasn't the difficult, unreachable woman she'd been before.

"I know who you are." Maggie remarked, stepping further into the room.

Michelle didn't look up. Instead, she moved one of her pieces. "Do you now?" she replied dryly. Then, without missing a beat, she added, "Just because you read a file about me doesn't mean you know me, Special Agent Bell."

Maggie's brows furrowed at the comment, a little caught off guard. "I—"

Before she could say more, Michelle placed the final move on the board and declared, "Checkmate." She glanced up, but only for a moment, and then turned on her heel, leaving the room with the kind of confidence Maggie had come to expect from her.

"Wait what? I-," responds OA staring at the chessboard in disbelieve. He then looks at Maggie. "How did she do that?"

Maggie stood there for a second, she had no idea what was really going on in Michelle's head. As much as the woman irritated her, Maggie couldn't deny that she wanted to understand more.

Maggie barged into Michelle's room with annoyance and was about to speak when she froze, noticing Michelle standing in front of her closet, topless, pulling a shirt from a drawer.

"Sorry," Maggie muttered quickly, turning to leave. "I didn't mean to barge in."

But Michelle didn't seem phased in the slightest. She pulled a shirt over her head with casual ease and glanced at Maggie, who had turned to face away.

"You know," Michelle said smoothly, her voice lowering into a near whisper. "One might assume you're getting soft on me, Special Agent Bell." She moved closer, her lips barely brushing Maggie's ear as she added, "I'd be disappointed if that's the case."

Maggie's breath hitched, a mix of confusion and surprise running through her. She backed away quickly, her heart rate quickening as a deep blush spread across her cheeks. The boldness of Michelle's actions startled her—she wasn't sure if it was the playful challenge or something else.

Michelle just smirked, seemingly unaffected by Maggie's reaction. She turned and sauntered out of the room, leaving Maggie standing there trying to gather herself.

Still flustered, Maggie walked into the living space, where OA was scanning the windows, checking the perimeter. She took a deep breath and steadied her composure.

Michelle had already settled herself on the couch, and she glanced up at Maggie and OA with a seriousness that contrasted her usual playful nature. "I have an idea," she said, her voice cool but calculating. "An idea that might end this nightmare once and for all."

OA raised an eyebrow, the slight tension in his shoulders suggesting he was skeptical about whatever Michelle was about to propose. "What kind of idea?" he asked cautiously.

Maggie folded her arms. She wasn't sure if she was ready for another of Michelle's risky plans. "And you think it'll work?"

Michelle leaned back, her gaze fixed firmly on both of them. "Well, if you ask my mom, she'll probably tell you I'm crazy for even suggesting it. But hear me out."

Maggie and OA exchanged glances, clearly not sharing the same level of enthusiasm for Michelle's plan.

Michelle sighed as she continued, "I need access to the internet and a media conference. That's the first step." She paused for a moment, gauging their reactions. "But here's the thing—if I send my missile software to all the organizations that want it—every last one of them—then everyone will have it. And once everyone has it, the value of the software plummets."

Maggie's face remained unreadable. She didn't like where this was going. "You want to give every country and organization blueprints of your missile software...then what? And expose yourself in a public setting? Are you nuts?"

Michelle shrugged. "Maggie, if everyone has the software, then no organization will have the upper hand. I become irrelevant. This whole setting here is cute but I would really love to go back to my life or we can just let them have me."

Maggie's brow furrowed. "But wouldn't that make you an even bigger target? What if they come after you, knowing that you're the one who can really make the next one? A better version?"

Michelle laughed, a sound so lighthearted that it almost didn't belong in the current conversation. "Can we cross that bridge when we get there? And besides, haven't you heard of one-hit wonders? I could be one."

Maggie shook her head, not convinced. "It's too risky. We can't just let you out in the open like that. There are too many variables, too many ways it could go wrong."

OA, who had been silent until now, spoke up, his voice steady but doubtful. "We can't risk it. We'd be putting you right in the crosshairs again, and that's not a gamble we can afford."

Michelle stood up, her eyes never leaving Maggie's as she spoke. "And too many ways it could go right. Look, I didn't come up with this plan because I think it's a safe option. I came up with it because if we don't do something drastic, I'll never be safe. None of us will."

Maggie paused, staring at her for a long moment, trying to make sense of the situation. Michelle was right about one thing—staying hidden in this safe house forever was no guarantee of safety. But risking exposure, turning the entire situation on its head, was a dangerous game.

And the more she watched Michelle—saw the resolve in her eyes—the more Maggie realized that this woman, the one who was so quick to shut down her emotions and put up walls, had been living in fear and uncertainty for so long that perhaps taking a risk, any risk, seemed like the only way to regain control.

"I don't know if I can let you do this," Maggie said, her voice quieter now, almost apologetic. "But... I'll think about it."

Michelle met her gaze, her expression unreadable, but her lips curled into a small, knowing smile, with sarcasm. "I'll leave you to it, then. Take your time, it's not like I'm being hunted."

As Michelle walked away, Maggie felt a strange tension in her chest—something that was more than just the weight of their mission. Something personal.

OA walked closer to Maggie, meeting her gaze. "It's a good plan. Just don't tell her I agree with her, I'll never hear the end of it."

;)