For the Future
Glennon
All day, she paced. The numbness after Triumph left this morning was long gone, and in its place, other things had grown.
At first, it was listless energy.
She wandered the apartment, looking at things but not really seeing them. She’d open the refrigerator and stare at its contents, not really hungry or thirsty, but… just because.
She read the spines of every book in Tripoli’s collection, but she couldn’t tell you a single title that she read.
She wandered the rooms, picking up random items—a destroyed tennis ball she found that must have belonged to their dog, a well-loved paperback novel resting cracked open alongside what was most likely Francesca’s side of the bed, the bandana Triumph used in the Darién Gap.
But then she’d come upon a single item that turned the numbness to horror—the framed three-dimensional ultrasound photo of a baby.
She stood there, one hand shaking as it reached to trace the edge of the crystal etching. Eyes closed, she felt bile rise in her throat. The hand that had reached out turned into a fist, which she held against her lips as she forced back the need to be sick. Absolute horror flooded her system.
Because of her, Triumph’s whole life was being turned upside down.
Because of her, Tripoli and Francesca had been attacked.
Because of her, their baby had nearly been stolen, trafficked, violated, killed, or who knew what else.
Because of her, Francesca had to offer herself up in place of her child.
And then the anger came. No, not anger.
Rage.
Pure, unadulterated rage.
No fucking way.
Guillermo did not get to destroy one more person.
Not while there was breath in her body.
She stood there, unseeing, although her eyes appeared fixed on the crystallized image of the baby in Francesca’s womb—thinking, plotting, planning.
When she finally moved, it was midday. Her phone had beeped. As if moving through a viscous material, she reached for the phone and saw it was Triumph.
Now she felt regret. She was going to hurt him, possibly irreparably.
It couldn’t be helped. He’d be alive. He’d recover.
What mattered even more than Triumph was that Francesca would be home with her family.
Baby Hailey would grow up with her parents, her dog, and maybe one day, a baby brother.
If so, she’d be the best big sister, and the siblings would have two wonderful parents.
Neither of the children would ever feel abandoned.
Never feel less than worthy. Always be loved.
She answered the call. She owed him that at the very least.
“Hey, little spy.”
He sounded tired. Frustrated.
“No luck?” She knew there hadn’t been, but she had to ask.
“Nothing yet. I’ve been able to determine the video isn’t AI, so at least we know it’s real footage. I need them to call again so I can try to trace the call, but…”
“But he won’t call again.” She supplied the remainder of the sentence.
“No. Guillermo was very clear.” She heard a chair creak in the background, as if he was leaning back in it to stretch out his back, and his next words were muffled like he was rubbing his hands over his face.
“I need to get back to work. See if I can find any clues as to where he’s holding her, but honestly?
I don’t know if I’m going to be successful.
The camera is very tight on her, and there is next to nothing in the frame that isn’t her.
And she can’t talk to give us any clues. ”
Glennon closed her eyes, hung her head, breathed in, breathed out, and her mind settled.
No other choice.
“You should go. You have work to do.”
“I needed to hear your voice. Needed to know you were still safe.”
Sadly, she smiled to herself. “Go. Do your NSA shit. Get Francesca home.”
“Love you, Glennon.”
“I love you too. So much. I’m so lucky you were mine, and I loved being yours.”
“Glennon?”
She disconnected.
For the first time in a very long, long time, she saw things clearly. Her parents’ inability to let go of their fear. Her brother, crippled by their best intentions. The single-mindedness of her employers. The power she held to set the rules and make others play within them.
She would use that against Guillermo and end this today.
“Forgive me, Triumph,” she said quietly to the empty room.
She’d told him to do his NSA shit. Now it was time for her to do her CIA shit.