Chapter 13

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March 18, 2027
New York
1500 hours

Ben's POV

I ran. There was rain pouring down from the sky. My mind had turned off and I was running on pure emotion. I didn't even know where I was going. My legs just carried me.

I bumped into people everywhere, made cars swerve off the road, and a lot of people angry. I didn't care at all.

I jumped over one of the snowbanks on the side of the sidewalk and into a park. My legs decided that they were done working, and I promptly fell over into the grass. I got up and went to sit on a bench.

I took time to look around where I was. I had somehow ended up in Central Park. I saw kids laughing and playing in the rain, while their parents chided them and told them not to get their clothes dirty.

I was devastated. I don't even know how Erica had gotten beat. That had to mean that they were top of the line agents, or something else had happened. I felt tears rolling down my face.

I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. Just sit and cry. Forever and ever, as if my tears were the Nile River. It seemed hopeless that I would find my girls.

I put my face in my hands and started sobbing quietly. I felt my whole body shake as the tears rolled down my cheek.

After a while, I wiped my face and focused. Even if there was a slim chance, I had to try. That was my family.

What would Erica do?

She would gather her resources and info, and make her next move based on said resources and info.

I reached in my ear for my earpiece but realized it was missing. I would have to go rendezvous with Jawa in person.

I got up and started walking back, before I realized I was quickly going to get lost in this city. I whipped out my phone, which was thankfully still there, and searched for directions a block away from my hotel (in case anyone was tapping my phone).

I would have called Jawa, but I didn't, for the same reason as above.

After a short walk, I made it to the hotel and entered. I quickly jogged up to Jawa's room, but got no answer. I used my keycard, which thankfully worked on his room (I guess the front desk set it up for me) and entered.

It was clean as ever. The only thing out of place was a note on a work desk. I picked it up.

Ben/Erica,

I went out to do surveillance on a lead I got from Cyrus. Still communicate with me with the headset, but do not call me. Don't want to risk the calls getting traced, even with our secure phones. This organization has proven to be terribly resourceful.

Jawa

As per usual with standard CIA fashion, I ripped up the note, lit on fire, and flushed the ashes down the toilet. I went back into my room.

I walked into the bathroom and finally saw how much of a mess I was. I had grass stains all over myself and a bit of mud in my hair.

I took a quick shower to clean myself off, then dried off and ordered room service (if I was going to save my family, I was going to do it on a full stomach).

I started writing an email to Cyrus about the situation. I knew it wasn't 100% secure, but it was better than a phone call, and if used with stupid email names (such as: teddybearrocks@stuffy.com) it wouldn't draw attention.

Dear Secret Communication Stuffy (get it?)

I felt it was important enough for me to tell you what happened. Somehow, someone got the jump on Erica. They have her hostage with Emma, or for all I know, they are already dead. I don't know yet. I'm following up on evidence right now.

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