Maeve #3
“We all went back for Captain,” Maeve corrected. Peak looked toward Wren and then Warden. He looked at his battered Prez, who was currently complaining that he didn't need an ambulance. And finally, he looked at Maeve.
“You called him family,” Peak reminded.
Maeve swallowed. “I did.” Peak smiled. Not the sarcastic grin she'd grown accustomed to.
This was something quieter. It was something that made her chest ache.
Maeve looked around at the men who'd risked everything to help her find Wren and at the sister she'd thought she'd lost. She looked at Peak, and it felt like her heart might just beat out of her chest. For eighteen months, she'd believed getting Wren back would mean returning to the life they'd had before.
She understood now that wasn't possible because too much had changed.
They had changed, and maybe that didn't have to be a tragedy.
Maybe surviving wasn't about getting her old life back.
Maybe it was about building something new from whatever remained.
Maeve slipped her hand into Peak's, and he immediately closed his fingers around hers. Wren looked toward the navigation tower. “Um—” Maeve followed her gaze. Smoke was beginning to curl from beneath the structure, and Wren grimaced. “We should probably get farther away.”
Peak stared at her. “You think?”
“I calculated for server destruction, not structural integrity of the building,” she said.
Warden barked out a laugh, and Peak shook his head. “Definitely your sister.”
Maeve smiled. “Unfortunately.”
Wren bumped her shoulder. “You missed me.”
Maeve looked at her, standing beneath the Maryland morning sky. She had missed her sister, more than anything. “Every damn day.”
The first helicopter appeared less than ten minutes after they reached the surface.
Its blades thundered across the marsh, flattening the tall reeds as it circled once before bearing toward the old navigation tower.
Then came another, and another. Within minutes, the quiet stretch of Maryland marshland had become controlled chaos.
Black SUVs raced down the access road, and state police cruisers followed behind them.
FBI tactical teams and U.S. Marshals arrived on the scene.
Even unmarked Department of Homeland Security vehicles showed up.
Wren had been right. The second her data reached federal servers, the Director's empire began collapsing.
Maeve stood beside Peak at the edge of the marsh while agents disappeared into the underground entrance.
The sun had finally broken through the clouds.
For the first time in what felt like forever, the world looked almost normal.
It was strange how ordinary everything seemed after surviving hell.
Peak's hand found hers without either of them acknowledging it, and neither let go.
Captain limped toward them from the back of an ambulance. His left arm rested in a sling, and fresh stitches disappeared beneath the edge of the bandage wrapped around his forehead. He looked exhausted, but he also looked furious. Maeve took that as a good sign.
"How're you standing?" Peak asked.
Captain snorted. "Mostly spite."
Warden barked out a laugh. "That sounds about right."
Captain looked toward the collapsed building. "They get him?"
Peak nodded. "The Director's in federal custody."
Captain released a slow breath. "Good."
An FBI agent approached carrying a thick evidence box. "Captain Walker?" Captain nodded. "We've identified over three hundred victims." Maeve's breath caught. There were over three hundred women and children that the Director had been planning on trafficking.
The agent continued. "We've already located eighty-seven survivors using the files recovered from the servers.
" Peak squeezed her hand gently. She was sure that the number would keep growing because Wren had copied every encrypted database.
Every identity Director had stolen, every shell company he had started, and every woman he had trafficked were all safe because of Wren.
One by one, people would finally get to go home.
Wren emerged from another ambulance wearing an oversized sweatshirt someone had found for her. Her hair was still damp from the decontamination shower. She looked impossibly small. Maeve immediately crossed the distance between them. "You okay?"
Wren smiled tiredly. "I forgot what sunlight looked like."
Maeve wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "You don't have to ever go back to that life."
"I know." Wren looked around the marsh. "They're really gone."
"They're gone,” Maeve said.
Wren leaned against her. "I kept thinking—” She swallowed. “If I could just hold out one more day—” A small sob escaped her chest, nearly breaking Maeve’s heart.
Maeve kissed the top of her head. "You don't have to hold out anymore.
" For the first time, Wren cried. Not the quiet tears she'd hidden in the server room, and not the controlled emotion she'd buried beneath jokes and code.
This time, she sobbed—deep, broken sobs.
Eighteen months of fear finally escaping, and all Maeve could do was hold her because sometimes, there were no words big enough.
Three Days Later