Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
MIA
The next morning, we’re back in the galley of the trawler. The gentle rocking of the boat in the gentle swells of the Pacific soothes my nerves, but the atmosphere in the galley is thick and heavy with tension.
The cramped galley is filled with the imposing presence of the men from Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists, former Navy SEALs, and Delta Force operatives, all towering figures of strength and resolve.
I feel small amidst the sheer volume of male testosterone.
Rigel, seated beside me, his familiar presence offers a sliver of comfort. His steady gaze and the occasional brush of his hand against mine remind me I’m not alone. My heart races slightly, an intoxicating blend of anxiety and the simmering attraction I feel for him.
Last night, Mitzy confirmed the validity of the data I risked everything to obtain. She’s debriefed the team, and I’m eager to know what happens next.
Skye sits on my other side, her calm demeanor starkly contrasting the chaos swirling in my mind .
“You did the right thing,” Skye says, placing a reassuring hand on my arm. Her voice is steady, grounding me. “We’re here for you.”
“Thank you.” I swallow past the lump in my throat, trying to steady my breathing.
Across the table, Sam, the man in charge of Guardian HRS, clears his throat. “We need to discuss next steps. The CIA and U.S. Embassy know the situation and expect our recommendation for Mia’s protection.”
The room quiets as Sam speaks, the weight of his authority palpable.
Beside him is CJ, the lead of all the Guardian teams. His intense gaze is fixed on me. Blake, Gabe, Hank, Walt, and Ethan, the leader of the Charlie team, listen intently. Their muscular frames fill the small space, and their expressions are serious.
Forest Summers, the founder of Guardian HRS, leans against the wall, his presence a reminder of the organization’s formidable reach. With their vast experience in special operations, these men exude a quiet confidence that makes me feel both protected and overwhelmed.
I’ve never felt this out of my element, adrift and aimless. Skye’s touch helps, but the reality of my situation looms large. I’m surrounded by some of the most capable people in the world, yet I’ve never felt more vulnerable.
“What are our options?” Rigel, beside me, leans forward, his presence solid and reassuring.
“We have three alternatives,” Sam begins, pressing his hands against the metal table. “The first is a staged death and a new identity for Mia.”
“Death?” My eyes widen. “Isn’t that a bit extreme?”
“As long as they consider you a threat and know you’re alive, your life’s at risk,” he explains.
“But death? How does something like that work?”
“We create a scenario suggesting you didn’t survive, allowing you to disappear and start anew. ”
“How?” I ask, my voice barely steady.
“New identity,” Rigel says, looking at Sam for confirmation.
“Like WITSEC?” I’ve heard of the program.
They do it in the U.S. to protect witnesses called in to testify on high-profile cases.
“Correct,” Sam nods. “But WITSEC isn’t an option since this is an international matter with no criminal charges.”
“No criminal charges?” I turn to Rigel, trusting him above all others. “They’re stockpiling deuterium. Isn’t that the very definition of criminal?”
“It is,” Sam says, his expression serious. “However, WITSEC is specifically for cases within the United States where witnesses are protected until and during a trial. It’s a program designed to safeguard individuals who are testifying against domestic criminals. In your case, the threat comes from Red Phoenix, a Chinese company, making this an international issue.”
I frown, trying to process the implications. “But what they’re doing is illegal. Why can’t I be protected under WITSEC?”
“Because it’s beyond our borders,” Sam explains, his tone patient. “WITSEC isn’t equipped to handle threats from foreign entities. While the stockpiling of deuterium is indeed criminal, it’s not something that falls under the jurisdiction of a U.S. court. This means there won’t be a domestic trial where you’d testify, which is the primary purpose of Witness Protection.”
Rigel squeezes my hand, grounding me as I take in Sam’s explanation. The low, droning noise of his fingers tapping on the table underscores the gravity of the situation.
“So, what are my options then?” I ask, my voice wavering slightly.
“We create a new life for you,” Sam assures. “It will involve changing your identity and removing you from Red Phoenix’s radar. But it won’t be through the official channels of Witness Protection. Instead, it will be through our own methods, ensuring your safety without the formal framework of WITSEC.”
A chill runs down my spine at the thought of being declared dead, leaving behind everything and everyone I’ve ever known. The prospect is daunting. When I was a little girl, this was never how I envisioned my life.
I’m a fugitive on the run.
Sam continues, “The second option is protective custody in a secret location. We’d place you in a secure facility, under 24/7 guard, until the threat from Red Phoenix is neutralized.”
“I’d be locked away?” I shudder; the idea of isolation is almost as terrifying as the danger. “For how long?”
“For as long as it takes.”
He doesn’t say it, but I get the gist. It could be for the rest of my life.
“Is there a third alternative?” Rigel asks, his gaze never leaving Sam’s face.
Sam leans back thoughtfully, but it’s Forest who answers.
“The third option is hiding in plain sight. Mia can join Guardian HRS as a consultant, working with our team to bring down Red Phoenix from the inside. She’ll have a new identity and can use her expertise to aid in the investigation. And we can protect her within the walls of Guardian HRS proper.”
A flicker of hope ignites in my chest at the prospect of fighting back and using my skills to help take down those who threatened my life. It feels like my part in this isn’t done.
“But hiding in plain sight?” I bite my lower lip. “Won’t they discover I’m alive? Won’t it put Guardian HRS at risk?”
Rigel squeezes my hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
His sincerity and commitment send a warm flutter through my chest. In the midst of chaos, Rigel’s presence reminds me I’m not alone in this fight.
The team debates the pros and cons of each option, weighing the risks while I grapple with the enormity of the decision before me.
It feels like I’m watching someone else’s life unravel.
A part of me recoils at abandoning everything I’ve ever known, the people and places that have shaped me. Starting anew, building a life from scratch fills me with dizzying fear.
I lean forward, resting my elbows on the cool metal table, my head in my hands. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart and trembling fingers, but it does no good.
It’s like my heart’s a runaway freight train, a stampede of wild horses, a tsunami of sensation drowning me. What other metaphors can I use? It feels like they’re all rushing at me.
Skye’s hand rests on my back, a gentle pressure that anchors me while a tempest rages in my mind.
“It’s okay to be scared,” she says softly, her voice a soothing balm to my frayed nerves. “What you’re facing… It’s not something anyone should have to go through.”
I nod, swallowing past the lump in my throat, blinking back tears. The compassion in Skye’s words, the understanding in her eyes, is a lifeline, a reminder that even in the darkest times, there is kindness and empathy.
Rigel wraps his arm around my shoulders, tugging me tight to his muscular frame. The determination etched into every line of his face sends a flicker of warmth through my chest.
In the short time I’ve known Rigel, he’s become a source of strength and steadfast support. I meet his gaze, seeing the depth of his commitment and the unwavering loyalty in his eyes.
The team continues to discuss options.
Sam outlines the logistics of a staged death and the challenges of creating a convincing scenario.
Mitzy chimes in, “It’s not going to be easy.” Her fingers drum on the table. “Red Phoenix will be watching closely, looking for any sign that Mia survived. We need to be meticulous, cover every angle, and ensure there are no loose ends.”
The idea of isolation, of being cut off from the world, is abhorrent to me.
What kind of life is that?
But even as fear threatens to overwhelm me, a spark of determination arises. I’ve come too far and fought too hard to let Red Phoenix win. Whatever sacrifices I have to make, I’ll face them head-on, with the strength and support of the incredible people around me.
As the meeting draws to a close, Ethan turns to me, his expression serious but not unkind. “Mia, I know this is a lot to process.”
“Thank you,” I manage, my voice tight with emotion. “Thank you for everything.”
Rigel’s hand finds mine under the table, his fingers lacing with mine. It’s a small gesture but one that speaks volumes, a reminder that I have someone by my side who will fight for me and stand with me no matter what.
But what we’re talking about…
It’s big. Huge. My life will never be the same, and I can’t escape the threats against me.
The walls close in around me as the debate intensifies, each option weighed and measured with a gravity that settles heavily in the air.
The room blurs, and the faces around me fade as the edges of my vision darken. My heart races, pounding erratically against my ribcage, and a cold sweat breaks out across my skin. My breath catches in my throat.
The air is too thick—suffocating—and my lungs strain with each shallow, panicked breath.
I clutch Rigel’s hand, my nails digging into his skin. I barely feel the reassuring pressure of his fingers, but it’s there, and I cling to the sensation.
The voices around me become a distant hum, indistinct and overwhelming. It’s like I’m underwater, the world above a distorted, unreachable reality.
I try to focus on Skye’s soothing words, on Rigel’s fierce promise, but panic claws at me. My vision tunnels further, a ringing in my ears drowning out everything else.
“Mia, breathe,” Rigel’s voice cuts through the fog, sharp and clear. “Look at me. Breathe with me.”
His other hand cups my cheek, grounding me, pulling me back from the brink. I force my eyes to meet his, locking onto the intense, steady gaze that anchors me.
He takes a deep breath, and I mimic the motion, struggling to draw in air as my chest tightens painfully.
“That’s it, Mia. Just breathe. In and out.”
Slowly, painfully, I follow his lead, matching his rhythm until the fog begins to lift. The room comes back into focus, the oppressive weight on my chest easing just enough for me to catch a full breath.
The panic doesn’t disappear entirely but recedes, leaving me shaky and drained. Rigel’s thumb strokes my cheek, his touch a lifeline in the chaos.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice a steady balm. “You’re not alone. I’m here.”
I nod weakly, clinging to his words, to the fierce protectiveness in his eyes. The team resumes their discussion, but Rigel’s focus remains on me.
Sam stands at the head of the table, his gaze intense as he outlines the potential ramifications of each path forward.
“The helicopter attack complicates things—they know someone took Mia, and they’ll expect us to protect her. Hopefully, they don’t know who we are.”
Mitzy nods, her brows furrowed in concentration. “If we create a convincing scenario that leaves no room for doubt, it could give Mia the best chance at a fresh start.”
The idea of starting over, of leaving behind everything I’ve ever known, sends a pang of longing through my chest.
A part of me yearns for the simplicity of a life untouched by the darkness. I wish I’d never discovered that tiny discrepancy.
I wish I hadn’t gone digging.
I wish I’d never discovered what Red Phoenix was up to.
Sometimes, ignorance truly is bliss.
But I know.
That means I have the responsibility to stop them, but how I wish it wasn’t me and that I could return to a life unburdened by the weight of secrets and lies .
Can I really leave my old life behind and cut ties with the people and places that have shaped me?
And even if I do, will I ever truly be free, or will the specters of my past always haunt me, lurking just beyond the edges of my new existence?
Skye’s voice cuts through my thoughts, her tone gentle but firm. “We also need to consider the long-term implications for Mia’s well-being. A staged death, a new identity—those are huge changes, ones that will affect every aspect of her life. We need to make sure she has the support and resources she needs to navigate this transition, to build a new life for herself.”
“Fortunately, we’ve got a lot of experience doing just that.” Forest’s low rumble catches me off guard. “Although, I wouldn’t place her at The Facility. Too much risk to our other residents. But on Guardian HRS proper? That will do.”
I swallow hard, my throat tight with emotion. The magnitude of what we’re discussing is overwhelming, a weight that presses down on my chest, making it hard to breathe. I glance at Rigel, seeking comfort in the steadiness of his gaze, in the strength of his presence beside me.
He meets my eyes, his expression softening. “What are you thinking?” he asks, his voice low and gentle. “What are your fears, your concerns?”
“I’m scared.” I take a shaky breath, my hands trembling in my lap. The words feel small and fragile. “Scared of losing myself, of forgetting who I am. Scared of letting go of my past, of the people and memories that have made me who I am.”
“Are we in agreement then?” CJ rises from his seat, his authoritative presence filling the room. “Mia stays on Guardian HRS grounds until we figure out a way to fake her death?”
I shudder at the thought of being locked away, isolated from the world, from any semblance of normalcy. The idea of confinement, of being trapped and helpless, sends a spike of fear through my veins, cold and sharp. I can’t help but gasp as the room closes in around me .
My chest tightens. There’s not enough air. I can’t breathe. It’s the same panic attack, but this time, it returns with a vengeance.
I glance at Rigel, my eyes pleading for an escape, for something to anchor me.
Rigel’s gaze locks onto mine, and he understands immediately.
“Excuse us for a moment,” he says to the team, his voice polite but firm. “I think Mia could use some fresh air.”
Ethan nods, his expression sympathetic. “Of course. Take all the time you need.”