16 - Margaret
The feel of the familiar silver pendant settling back against her skin was a strange comfort, a mix of relief and lingering horror.
Dog’s words – “From here on out, you belong to no one but yourself. This is yours, and only yours.” – echoed in Margaret’s ears, a final, brutal punctuation mark on Charles’s insidious betrayal.
Her grandmother’s necklace, a symbol of endurance and hope, had been defiled, used against her, but now it was hers again, cleansed of its sinister purpose.
The microscopic transponder, now a tiny blinking light held carefully in Enzo’s hand, felt like a burning coal in the pit of her stomach.
Her fingers instinctively brushed the familiar pendant, a testament to her Nonna’s memory, now no longer a phantom weight or a tether.
A cold wave of shame and terror washed over her.
Each motion, each breath she took, had endangered everyone with her.
The farm hadn’t been safe, never had been, not after the sniper attack.
And now, even this remote airstrip in Maine was compromised because of her.
Maybe she should just go back. The thought stabbed through her mind, unwelcome but persistent. Go back to Charles and the children and let this all end. Let them all go back to their lives, safe, free from the chaos she brought with her.
But surrender meant losing everything she had fought for, the people she was learning to care about, the fragile new life they were trying to build. Instead, she forced her gaze steady on Dog, standing close, tension written deep into his features.
“So, what’s the plan for that?” she asked quietly, her voice tight, nodding toward the tiny blinking light Enzo held.
Enzo nodded, already pulling a small toolkit from his bag. Thorn crouched nearby, scanning the SUVs and their surroundings with sharp eyes. The engines were still off; the only sounds were the quiet hum of distant aircraft and the soft scrape of tools.
“We will need to plant it somewhere that leads Charles’s men away from our path,” Enzo said, voice calm but focused.
Dog turned toward Thorn and Enzo. “You two will take the second SUV for a winding drive west, down to a truck stop. Find a rig headed into Canada and plant the tracker on the bumper. Make it count.”
Enzo gave a brief nod. “We’ll circle back afterward and provide overwatch for Warden’s cabin.”
Margaret swallowed hard, feeling the weight of what was happening. The danger was everywhere, yet at least this step might throw Charles’s men off their trail.
The two men climbed into the second SUV, engines roaring to life. They pulled away smoothly, tires crunching gravel as they faded down the airstrip road.
Jake slid into the driver’s seat of the remaining vehicle, glancing back at Margaret and Dog in the rear seats. The night air was cool, but a tension hummed between them.
Dog settled beside Margaret, lowering his voice. “I know this isn’t easy. You probably think going back to Charles will stop all this, that it might protect the people here.”
Margaret looked away, her fingers twisting nervously. “Maybe it would,” she whispered. “Maybe I can just hand myself over, end it.”
He shook his head gently. “The bounty’s still on our heads. A million each. Charles is desperate, and that makes him dangerous, more so if we show any sign of weakness. Going back won’t make it better. It’ll only give him what he wants.”
She met his eyes. There was honesty there, strength. “So what do we do? Keep running?”
Dog took a slow breath. His expression was steady but softer now.
His gaze lingered on her with quiet concern.
“No, not running. We’re heading to Warden’s cabin.
It’s off the grid, remote, a place where we can stay hidden until the team back at the farm finishes gathering all the evidence we need to take Charles down for good. ”
Margaret’s brow furrowed. “And once you have the proof?”
“We turn it over to the FBI, Homeland Security. We let the authorities do their job. Charles goes to prison. That is the goal. No more running. No more hiding.”
She hesitated, then asked softly, “How long do you think we’ll have to stay off the grid?”
Dog reached out slowly and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The simple touch was tender and steadying. “Probably a couple of weeks, maybe more. It will take time to get everything lined up right. Until then, we stay hidden, stay safe, and watch each other’s backs.”
Margaret’s eyes softened at the gesture. For a moment the chaos outside this car felt miles away.
A silence settled between them until Margaret’s voice broke through, faint but anxious. “What about the kids? Emily and Charles. I left them with their father. What happens to them?”
A memory, stark and visceral, flashed in her mind.
It was Noor, her face etched with a pain Margaret now recognized as her own, whispering to her the other day in the bunker.
“My Samir was seven, habibti. Seven years old, when I made the choice. Faisal, that monster, he would have taken him, locked him away, or worse, sold him like property. Basra was not safe. So I sent my boy into the streets. Alone. A seven-year-old, I put him in danger, put him out there to be stolen, to be lost, because it was the only way I knew to keep him from a far worse fate. The hardest choice, Margaret, is the one that tears your soul, but saves your child.” Margaret had swallowed hard then, just as she did now, the weight of that truth a heavy burden.
This time, though, the tears came. Hot, silent streams tracing paths down her cheeks, a quiet sob catching in her throat.
Dog’s face grew serious again, but the warmth in his eyes never faded.
He shifted closer, pulling her gently against him, wrapping his strong arms around her.
She leaned into the embrace, a deep, shuddering breath escaping her.
His hand came up to rest on the back of her head, cradling her as he spoke, his voice a low rumble against her ear.
“They are our biggest concern. That is why this has to end cleanly and quickly. We will make sure the kids are protected, no matter what. No one is going to hurt them.”
Margaret gripped his shirt, her voice thick with emotion, muffled against his chest. “I just hope they will understand someday why I had to leave.”
Dog’s gentle smile returned, though unseen. He tightened his hold, a silent promise. “They will. And we will make sure they are safe until then. You are not alone in this.”
Margaret glanced at him, feeling the steady strength of his embrace and his words, and something else, something quietly hopeful blossoming between them amidst the storm.