anwhile.
Bryan and Sarah descended the stairs and stepped back onto the street.
"Do you think Anna and Marlene are in so kind of trouble? They were so weird today." Sarah clung to his arm as they walked, still turning it over in her mind. On the surface, everything had seed normal—but sothing nagged at her.
Bryan looked at her, hesitated, then said, "They've probably got sothing going on. Don't worry about it. I'll have Amir look into it. It'll be fine."
The words had barely left his mouth when Sarah turned and fixed him with a stare, suspicion sharpening her voice. "Why do I get the feeling you're hiding sothing from ?"
Damn. That intuition is scary.
Bryan's mouth twitched. He slung his arm around her shoulders. "What? ? I would never."
The speed of his denial only deepened Sarah's skepticism. She didn't push further, but her tone carried a clear warning: "Hmph. It had better be nothing. Because if I find out you've been keeping sothing important from , I will skin you alive."
A bead of cold sweat traced down Bryan's temple. He was already calculating which of his friends could be volunteered to take the fall when the truth eventually surfaced.
...
The truth was, discovering that Anna and Marlene were Fireflies had been pure accident.
Six months ago, the governnt had uncovered several Firefly safe houses within the QZ. With most combat units deployed on external missions and mop-up operations against Firefly remnants outside the walls, every off-duty retrieval squad soldier had been temporarily conscripted for the internal sweep. Bryan was among them.
During that operation, he'd spotted a figure—a flash of long blonde hair disappearing around a corner. The silhouette had been achingly familiar. He'd had a clear shot, could have dropped her easily—but instead, he'd let her go.
Back at his quarters afterward, the image wouldn't leave him alone. Using that distinctive blonde hair as a starting point, he'd ntally narrowed the field to the people he knew best—and landed on two candidates: Sarah and Anna.
Sarah he ruled out imdiately. They lived together; if she were hiding sothing that significant, he'd have noticed. So he'd started with Anna, quietly tasking Amir with monitoring her movents alongside his regular duties.
When confirmation ca, Bryan had thought she'd lost her mind. The Fireflies' rhetoric about liberating the oppressed was, in his view, utter nonsense. Call him faithless, call him a cynic—he simply believed that staying alive mattered more than playing hero.
But what was done was done. He couldn't undo it. All he could do was have Amir keep a protective eye on Anna and make sure she didn't get herself killed.
As for Marlene—learning that she was the one who'd pulled Anna into the Fireflies had very nearly pushed Bryan to the point of wanting her dead. He suspected Marlene had originally recruited Anna as a stepping stone to people like him—soon-to-be soldiers with official access. Why she'd ultimately dropped the idea, he still didn't know.
Currently, only three people besides Bryan knew about any of this: Amir, Lucy, and Tracy. Everyone else had been kept in the dark.
The others were either too young, too emotionally driven, or both. Bryan's greatest fear was that concern for Anna would lead them to leverage their own positions to help her—and bring the whole ss crashing down on everyone's heads.
There was an upside to Anna's involvent, though. While monitoring her and Marlene, Bryan had identified the faces of several Firefly operatives.
On one occasion, he'd noticed multiple known faces converging on a single area. Recognizing the pattern, he'd cleared out imdiately—and narrowly avoided a Firefly raid.
That experience had cented the habit of sketching every Firefly face he encountered onto his surveillance board. Missions kept him away frequently, and not every surveillance run bore fruit, so after six months he'd only confird around thirty individuals—so of whom had since disappeared.
He didn't know Anna and Marlene's exact rank within the Fireflies, but every ti he'd observed them, they'd been the ones issuing orders while others listened. Their position clearly wasn't low. And yet they hadn't known about this supposed major operation...
Bryan's eyes narrowed as he walked. Their reaction to the second piece of news had been telling. It seed the Fireflies weren't nearly as unified as they appeared.
...
At the next intersection, Sarah split off—she'd only taken the morning off and needed to return to the hospital. Bryan had other business in the area, so they parted ways.
He headed straight for the smugglers' office building—the sa one he'd visited the day before. On the way, he stopped short.
Amir was leaning against a wall up ahead, looking thoroughly relaxed.
"Don't you have a patrol to run?" Bryan walked up, eyebrow raised.
Amir glanced over, saw who it was, and cleared his throat. "Just happened to be passing through this sector. Taking a quick break."
As he spoke, he tugged casually at his uniform, just enough to expose the insignia on his left shoulder.
"You sneaky bastard—you ca here to show off!"
Bryan pointed at him, then clapped his shoulder hard. "Alright, alright, I see the new patch. Congratulations on the promotion to squad leader. No wonder you're not walking a beat anymore. Co pick up your supplies later."
He shook his head and continued toward the office building, leaving Amir behind—stone-faced as ever, but with satisfaction glinting unmistakably in his eyes.
...
At the building entrance, the sa two guards from yesterday were on duty. They looked mildly surprised to see Bryan again, but rembering yesterday's shipnt, they let him pass without fuss.
This ti Bryan headed in the opposite direction, exchanging greetings with a few smugglers before entering a room with double doors.
It appeared to have been a corporate office once. The furnishings and decorations, while purely aesthetic now, still hinted at forr grandeur.
The office had been cleared out and replaced with several crates sealed in red tape—the sa boxes Bryan had handed off to Norsen outside the QZ.
He approached and ran his finger along the tape, inspecting each box, confirming none had been opened. Satisfied, he checked his watch, sat down, and waited.
He didn't wait long. Ten minutes later, footsteps sounded in the hallway and the double doors swung open.
Elton and Wade walked in shoulder to shoulder, matching backpacks on their backs, identical duffel bags in hand. The mont they spotted Bryan, both snapped to attention.
"Captain!"
"Relax—you don't have to shout." The stereo greeting left Bryan's eardrums ringing. "How many tis do I have to say it? 'Captain' is for the field. In the QZ, just use my na."
He dug a finger in his ear, shook his head until the buzzing faded, and waved them toward seats. "And stop standing at attention. Sit down sowhere."
The two exchanged sheepish grins and dropped onto the nearest patch of open floor.
Elton spoke first. "It just feels weird calling you by na. 'Captain' cos naturally at this point—hard to switch."
"Yep, yep." Wade nodded vigorously beside him.
"You two..." Bryan shook his head with a smile and let it go. They settled into easy conversation while waiting for the rest.
...
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