Potential sources for the messages:

Jase Hamilton FBI contact ProtoComm contact Unknown entity Liam Monroe Notepad on Briel’s phone

Do you think that after the lies that Briel has told that I will ever let her near my children again? – overheard conversation between Nick Alexander and his sister, Felicity Miller.

Strangely, Briel had slept again, and by the time she awakened, the hour had neared pre-dawn. Peering around the darkened room, Briel planned her exit. She counted the red lights of the motion sensors, mentally calculating the trajectory which each would span. A decent security system, but if Jase had been serious about keeping them safe, he wouldn't have left them alone. He would have realized how easily a professional could navigate even the motion detectors. Probably he just couldn't say no to Nessa, Briel rationalized.

With Briel's diminutive size, Briel knew she would have no difficulty maneuvering through its maze. As she and Nessa had entered Nessa's apartment, Briel had covertly watched Nessa enter her security code into the alarm system provided by their employer – a bit old fashioned for such a state-of-the-art company, but Briel imagined that the company would not particularly fear for their employees, just their clients.

Now avoiding the beams, Briel made her way to the keypad – no gymnastics required – and paused to breathe. Even with the code, Briel felt less than competent to disarm the system without the crutch of her computerized code cracker. Just push the buttons, she reasoned with herself. The system bore the name Mercury, the same as Briel's, so the procedure would be the same: An asterisk, then the code to arm the system, the code then number sign to disarm it. Carefully, Briel lifted the lid on the box and searched the programming buttons. She sought the mute button that would silence the beeping of the push-buttons. Having turned off the tattletale tones, Briel proceeded to disarm the system.

For a moment, Briel turned to glance around the room. She didn't want to think about the despair she knew that Nessa would feel when she arose in the morning and found Briel missing. I'll call as soon as I'm on the plane, Briel promised herself, hoping she could board the plane before Nessa awoke. Having grabbed her small purse and her backpack, Briel gently opened the door and let herself into the damp, warm night air. She then carefully rearmed the system and shut the door behind her.

She had crossed a span of fifteen feet before the headlights shone on her. At first, Briel turned to fly, her heart in her throat, but the voice arrested her.

“What are you doing, Briel?” came Jase's even tones.

She turned slowly back to face him, preparing herself for battle if necessary. “I'm leaving,

“With people after you? You’re going to strike out alone?”

“When has it ever stopped you?” she challenged. For a second, Jase seemed to calculate, but she interrupted any plans he might be making. “Are you seriously considering trying to stop me? I'm not dragging Nessa into my death-trap.”

Though his jaw tightened, his eyes flashed concession, and he nodded in agreement, “I don't particularly want her involved either, but don't you have any idea where you’ll go? You don’t have family – at least not that you’re close to. I’m pretty sure you cut all ties to your crew from ProtoComm.”

He couldn’t know about Felicity or Nick, so she shrugged noncommittally. “I have resources outside the team. You haven’t been around the past few years.”

Jase raised his hands defensively. “I’m not trying to stop you; I just figured if you were going out on your own, I could offer some direction.”

“So, you admit I'm doing the right thing,” she inquired. “You know this is what you would do?”

“I would,” he smiled coolly. “I'm actually grateful that you're leaving Nessa. I'd hate to see her caught up in the wake of your problems. Still, it's wrong of me to let you go.”

Let me? As if he could stop me, Briel assured herself, sending him a glare. His other words registered a moment later, though. He was grateful for Nessa’s safety? The possibility almost arrested Briel’s egress, but she honestly believed that Nessa was safer around the team – even with Jason paying too much attention – than should would be on her own. “I'll let you know if I need your help,” she mocked. “You just make sure that Nessa is well-protected. She may have had the same training we have but somehow she's just -”

“- more vulnerable,” Jase completed Briel's sentence with a smile.

“Yes,” Briel gazed steadily at him, hoping he wasn’t feigning the harmony of their thoughts.

“Can’t you let me give you a ride?” he offered, sounding as if he held little hope for acquiescence.

“Not a chance,” Briel's lips curved up. “Whoever is after me is monitoring me pretty closely, and if that's the case, they'll come looking for me here. You need to watch out for Nessa.”

“Done,” Jase looked as if he hadn't needed to deliberate. He had let Briel go with indifferent ease.

Kind of demolishes the Jase theory, she realized. His increasing attention to Nessa had spoken the fact for the past few times Briel had been in their presence, but she could never really understand how Jase’s brain worked. For all she usually knew, Jase could hold any motive for any action at any time, so maybe he could have paid attention to Nessa to get to Briel. She had no patience with his maneuverings, though. His complete unpredictability had grown more irritating than interesting, and though her ego might have appreciated the catch, she had moved past emotional attachment to him. As long as he didn’t hurt Nessa, she was all his.

“Bri…” Jase called to her as she spun away from him, “I want to tell you something about Nessa.”

Briel turned and peered skeptically at Jase.

“I mean, it’s about you, too – it’s ancient history for the most part, but if you are going to trust Nessa with me, I think you need to hear it. I wanted to talk to you about Italy.”

“Italy?”

“I need to apologize,” he offered, his face pained. “I mean, I could apologize for when we first met, but I kind of think you understand that a little better now.”

So, he had dated her as a mission – or at least been tasked to train her. If that were the case, he was really good at his job.

“But Italy can’t be explained away.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” Briel insisted, not so much because she believed the words, but because she didn’t know if anything he said would unclench that knot of resentment.

Jase glared at her. “Of course I do, more than I have owed anyone anything, outside my family. I…that was one of the worst days of my life, watching what they did to you. I was in so deep, and had I interfered, I not only would have exposed a weeks-long mission, I would have gotten both of us killed. I came for you as soon as I felt certain I could get you out, and I was afraid I had waited too long to save you. But there you were, still raging like a little badger.” Briel almost forgave him his grin at the imagery.

“So, why not tell me this? Why claim it was for money?”

“You know me, Briel. Everything is for money – or at least, it was back then. I was still young. I had a reputation, and I didn’t want anyone thinking I was playing the hero.”

“Not even me?”

“Especially not you. People respected you, and you are as honest as someone in our position can be. I knew what you believed about me would spread to the community, and I needed to feed a reputation as mercenary.”

“So, you’re not mercenary…?” She almost didn’t believe it.

“I am, I guess. Or was. More cynical and less mercenary, to be honest, because I had zero faith in mankind. But you know my story…I met Felicity.”

“And your faith in mankind was restored?” Briel mocked, and Jase smiled more humbly than Briel could ever have predicted he would.

“You laugh, but it’s pretty much true. There were things that had happened to me in life, and I had let them crush my idealism. Felicity kind of brought that back.”

“And Nessa?” It was all well and good that Jase had admired Felicity, but he did not have the freedom to mess with Nessa – not unless he wanted Briel to come after him.

His face screwed up in amused confusion. “Nessa is…something I have not encountered before. And I will admit, I find her interesting.”

“Well, be interested,” Briel warned, “but don’t be thoughtless. If you screw with her, you will have me to deal with.”

“While I would like to laugh at the thought, I know how resourceful you are. I might wake up one morning to find that if I move, all my fingernails will rip off.”

Briel snickered for him.

“But I don’t…I don’t intend to have any effect on Nessa whatsoever. I just intend to make sure she’s safe – which also involves minimizing her vulnerability to me.”

For the first time in a long time, Briel peered at Jase with something resembling admiration. Not that she hadn’t admired his skill or his brilliance, but she admired his self-sacrifice, if he meant the words. He would protect Nessa, and he would withhold his usual tendency to seduce and take what he wanted. As she had noted on their date those weeks ago, maybe there was hope for Jase Hamilton.

The realization actually released something inside Briel. Ever since Quantico, she had resented the way Jase had ended things. For most of the time, she had suppressed any thought of him, but there was an undercurrent when anyone mentioned him or she heard of one of his exploits. For the first time in five years, she didn’t really care what Jase did. In fact, as long as he treated Nessa right, Briel would even wish Jase well.

Without a word, Briel took her leave of her old mentor, not sure of her ultimate destination. She knew she regretted leaving Nessa behind, but beyond that, she held no regrets. Everything in her life In truth, Briel felt no closer to a solution to her problem, but Jase had inadvertently given her an idea. Only one solution really presented itself - she knew only one completely disinterested party who had knowledge that would help her. When Briel had last seen Bill Henry, she had been attempting the retrieval of information that would lead her to Emilia Alvares. Brendon Miller, or rather Felicity Miller, had provided the pertinent information.

Despite his exit from the company, Brendon had until recently served an important role in ProtoComm's business, and he had spent much time kowtowing to Henry's less illicit plans. Brendon was gone, another several months in his prison sentence, but Felicity might have some records left over, and her brother might know how to access some things. Since they were off the grid, she didn’t have to risk exposure by contacting them. Any plans beyond that would depend on what they could give her.

Just the thought brought goosebumps to Briel's arms. Actually, Briel missed the kids. Unfortunately, with the kids came Felicity, and the unassuming housewife and mother of three terrified Briel. That woman had faced down things Briel would have run from, and she could stare right into Briel’s soul. Like Nessa without the gentleness.

For the moment, Briel couldn't spare the mental resources to worry about the future. Instead, she had to find a way to reach the Miller residence. Briel could have called, but she liked the idea of sitting down with Felicity and picking her brain. Of course, Briel also ran the risk of running into Felicity’s brother, and the possibility did not rest well.

Nick. She tried to reassure herself that she could dig for information from Nick and then, their past differences faded into insignificance, they could walk away as friends. Between Nick and his sister, there would flow some pretty good ideas about Bill Henry. A better option would lie in the hope that Nick was not with his sister – Briel would have to search up Nick Alexander and see if she could predict where he would be.

Now Briel had a goal in mind, and her job became easier. Rather than cogitate over theoretical possibilities, she could calculate for practical realities. For thirty minutes, she slithered down narrow darkened streets toward the bus stop that would shuttle her to the airport. She had timed her egress from Nessa's to coincide with the first morning bus route, a 5 a.m. pickup. Unable to enact her plan until she withdrew money from the bank, she then took the bus into Helotes, a small chic community where she could wait out the morning with a cup of coffee.

Nothing menacing assaulted her on her journey to the suburban respite, and Briel grew antsy with her vacant waiting period. Two hours until the bank opened! She did not want to go over the list of her possible assailants for the hundredth time, and she felt confident that no one had followed her. Perhaps Jase's hovering had prevented the perpetrator from keeping watch over Nessa's domicile. Briel settled herself into an overstuffed armchair and, since she had nothing else with which to distract herself, she pulled out her laptop. With public Wi-Fi, Briel did not feel assured of privacy, but the filters she had installed on the computer should repel most breaches.

Surfing the net, she whined to herself. There had to be something better to do, but Briel could think of nothing off the top of her head. When she opened the computer and the screen came to life, Briel huffed in frustration, not satisfied with the options before her. At least, not until she noticed the steady blink of the message icon on her screen. She hesitantly clicked on the demanding flicker.

Hey, sleepyhead. Are you up? the first message read.

Briel looked to the time-stamp. Nine a.m., the morning of the fire. What must Ted be thinking now?

Is everything okay? he persisted a few hours later. Then even later, Look, I'm sorry that I ignored you for a couple of days, okay? I don't blame you if you're mad. But can you just let me know you're okay? After what happened to you in Mexico, I'm kinda going out of my mind here with no contact.

At least Ted had received some relief for his anxiety. Pretty resourceful to hack my phone, she commented to herself.

Of course, allowing him to contact her when she lay safely at Nessa’s seemed okay. Contacting him while she had gone on the run seemed less wise.

Back online I see, came a reply before Briel could make up her mind.

I wasn’t planning to contact you after last night, but I guess it makes sense you would watch my computer. Briel would get rid of her phone soon, and she couldn’t take her laptop with her – she would have to wipe it and ditch it.

Last night?

On my phone? Glad you found me so quickly to end your misery.

Without warning, a string of characters flashed onto Briel’s screen, and she almost shut down her laptop to stop it. Did you do that? she demanded.

Do what?

The numbers.

Ted didn’t answer for a minute.…There’s nothing on your computer. And what are you talking about last night? I haven’t talked to you in two days.

It was Briel’s turn not to answer. Was Ted finally stepping out of his game of connection and trying to screw with her mind? Or maybe Briel had just dreamed the conversation the night before. She pulled out her phone and searched for the app she had used for the previous evening’s conversation. To her consternation, the app was gone.

Briel, what is happening. Are you still okay? Are you safe?

You didn’t contact me last night?

No. I’ve been going out of my mind since the other night. In fact, humor me. I have encrypted my communication so that only you can see it, but if someone knows your email, he can piggyback into our chat. I want you to make up a new email just in case someone is monitoring yours. Then click this link and run this program to encrypt it. You'll have to message me again when you're done.

His usual overly-paranoid tendency seemed wise in light of her confusion over the night’s conversation. When he sent over the link, she clicked and installed the software, logging onto Yahoo with her childhood nickname and the date she left the bureau, Brie814.

Are we safe now? she wondered.

Never fully, but it's better. Nothing is ever secure enough.

Don't I know that, she agreed.

Last heard from you, your computer mic registered some strange noises, and then it shut down completely. That guy you had been with came back, but I didn't hear you talking. He said something about an alarm.

Umm, yeah. Briel wondered what Liam had said when he came to pull her out of her apartment. Still, telling Ted felt like déjà vu. My apartment building kind of burned down with me in it. That guy kinda saved me.

What? You've got to be kidding! But you're okay? Ted almost seemed manic in the speed of his concern.

Perfect, she reassured him, just really irate. After the fire, someone also tried to crash into a car I was in.

For several moments, Ted didn't respond. Briel wondered what could possibly be going through his head.

I don't know what you plan to do, but can I suggest you leave town.

Way ahead of you.

I'm serious, he chastised. I hesitate to offer, because I don't know how to do it securely, but I could meet you somewhere. I have experience hiking; you know, roughing it? I could help you disappear. We could camp out.

Briel laughed. Sure. Tents and cots and shower hookups, right? Not that the idea didn’t appeal to her, but she knew it was just because she would finally be able to see who Ted was. But your secret would be out…she teased.

Yes, but you’d be safe. I spent a year in the Australian desert several years ago, and I'm not tied to campgrounds. Did you know that they used to pay for college students to spend a year hiking there?

I think I've got this one, she tamped down on his enthusiasm. I've made some plans to ferret out what's been happening, and I won't be camping. Then she corrected to herself, not much, anyway. Briel smirked appreciatively to herself as she considered what Ted had said. Though she knew that he could offer her no tangible assistance from a distance, she couldn't help but be impressed. No fourteen-year-old hacker had hiked across the Australian wilderness. Of course, like all of Ted's assertions, he could be lying.

You look exhausted, he wrenched her thoughts from amusement.

Briel instinctively peered around her for a set of watching eyes. How in the world...? How do you do that?

Sorry, your camera on the laptop is internal; I just hacked it. When you finally answered me, I couldn't resist. It makes me feel better to see that you're okay. I want to see your face. And the address traced back to a coffee shop, so I wasn't too worried about your privacy.

And that trace is 100% accurate?

More like 85%, but I figured it was an okay chance to take in light of the danger you'd been in.

85%? That was quite a chance! 15% chance he could have encountered a real peep show. Briel wanted to reach through the computers and punch him, but she couldn't figure out a way. Briel's ire rose. I wish I could see you, too - meaning who the hell you are.

In good time.

Briel pursed her lips. If you want me to trust you, all you have to do is show me your face. If I know who you are, I'll know whether you're lying to me.

Just as Briel finished typing her message, the wireless signal on her computer popped up to inform her that she had lost the connection. Frustrated, she raised her head to see the other clientele of the coffee shop similarly engaged.

“Sorry,” a barista turned to them. “Our connection does that sometimes. Give it about five minutes, and we'll have it back up and running.”

Briel huffed. The clock already read 9:04. She needed to grab her money from the bank and head to the airport as soon as possible. Of all the times to lose her internet! If the barista had not so quickly responded, Briel would have accused Ted of manufacturing the disruption. No, the interruption seemed legitimate. Since Briel had to go to the bank immediately, she had no time to investigate; she would contact him later, on the plane.

At the bank, Briel withdrew every ounce of savings that she could. With no one to spend money on, she had amassed a decent nest egg, but some of her funds were tied up in investments. She had to settle for $9,000 cash, enough for some supplies, round trip plane tickets, a place to stay, and food. Maybe a gun or two. That left a decent amount in case she ran into any unexpected complications. Probably, she could accomplish whatever she needed with that much cash. From the moment she left the coffee shop, Briel could not use her credit card anymore lest she leave an electronic trail.

Briel had considered purchasing a ticket from the smaller, less frequented airport to her destination, but reconsidered when she thought of how easily someone could find evidence of her among the sparse numbers that traveled through its doors. Instead, she hopped the bus east to the San Antonio Airport and boarded a major airliner headed for southwestern Mexico. It would not be her final destination, but since she had to show her passport for international travel, Briel did not want to lead her pursuers too close to the Millers’ refuge. She would hop a flight from Colima to Chetumal, and from there, she would continue on foot until she reached Belize City, hopping a ferry to St. George Caye and the Millers’ new home.

The journey would cost her a few days, but she didn't mind roughing it. If anything, she enjoyed the thought of forgetting her current troubles and immersing herself in scraping through the semi-jungle and beaches on the way through Belize. What were a few jaguars compared to a crazed, unpredictable stalker?

Before she boarded the plane, Briel destroyed her burner phone, crushing it beneath the steel-toed boots she had purchased after her bank trip. Though the extra socks she wore increased her temperature, they protected her from the inevitable blisters which accompanied a new pair of shoes. Along with her shoes, she had bought thick jeans and a couple of shirts of varying warmth, insect repellent and a net, and sunscreen. Fortunately, she had made a habit of keeping her water filtering bottle in her backpack for the past several years.

An uneventful trip followed her flight from San Antonio, leading her from Madrid Airport in Colima to Chetumal Airport, and through the subtropical forest between the Mexican beaches of Quintana Roo and the resort town of Belize City. She hoped her circuitous route through Mexico had thrown off any pursuer.

Having arrived in Belize City as the sun dipped behind the village rooftops, Briel watched in awe as the clear line between the golden sky and the blue water dissolved into limpid strata of pinks and purples which cut across both the horizon and the surface of the sea, melding them into a unified conglomeration of color. Briel could not resist the urge to close her eyes and simply experience the combination of fresh sea air with warm, sultry breeze – in recent memory she had not taken much unscheduled time to appreciate the world around her.

Once she tried, though, she found that her thoughts crowded out the pleasure. They reminded her that at some point she had lost the ability to enjoy life. With that life now on such tenuous ground, Briel saddened that she had nothing to mourn from what she left behind. Not that she had wrapped her life up neatly and was content to leave her legacy as it stood. No, she had buried her life and left it for dead, and only now that she had left her comforts behind did she realize that she had nothing particular to go back for.

The gradual decrease in speed forewarned her that her destination approached, and although she had faced deadlier enemies, her stomach clutched in unanticipated anxiety as Briel thought of facing her scariest foil, Felicity Miller.