The Downfall

Chapter Three

Blinking once, Nadia let the bat drop lightly. Running a hand through her hair, she let out a low sigh. Dead. “ Which one? “ She questioned softly, a hint of worry kicking in. Was it a new one? Another base down? Was he a survivor from Houston? Thoughts ran through her head. She would need a new plan. . . and to tell her superiors.

“ Houston. “ When he spoke, she finally noticed the slight southern drawl of his voice. It was wrong of her to give a sigh of relief, but she had. Then a whole other round of questions started. One is how he knew where they were stationed, and two, how he got into her apartment. . . and why her's? That sinking suspicion was back.

“ Why are you here? “ Another question instead of a get out, what was she thinking? Why was she so. . . trusting of this stranger? Against her small frame, even with the bat, he’d probably win. She involuntarily gripped the bat tighter. If she went down, she'd go down swinging.

“ Everyone knows you're one of the generals best advisors. “ ‘ And friends. ‘ She added to his statement in her head. “ Don't you understand that breaking and entering are, in fact, against the law? Even in Rebel Territory? “ She questioned, finally putting the bat away.

Running a hand through his hair, he looked at her in a way that she truly knew as broken. “ I was hoping you'd advise me. “ His voice cracked on the word me. That pulled at Nadia's heart-strings, as much as she wished it didn't. Closing her eyes tightly to fight back her own tears, Nadia shook her head lightly.

“ I can't help you. Please leave my apartment. “ The words felt like cotton in her own mouth, she couldn't think of what they might have felt to him. “ There's a hotel, down on 67th. Stay there tonight and then in the morning, apply for residency. This is a haven for you. " She spoke, eyes downcast as she held open the door for him.

Her words left him in a moment of shock, but he did as she asked. He left her apartment. Shutting the heavy oak door behind him, she locked it once more. She needed to make a sweep of her apartment, find out how he got in since the front was locked.

Upon doing two sweeps of the house, Nadia had come to realize that she left the back patio unlocked. But thankfully, he wasn's a thief. “ That's one honorable thing about him. “ Nadia spoke to herself as she climbed into bed that night.

It had been three days since Nadia last saw the stranger from her apartment. She continued on with her life for those three days. Going to work, making strategies, smiling and nodding when appropriate. She felt like a robot, or a doll and someone else was pulling the strings. She couldn't get that...guy, out of her mind. And slowly, it was driving her crazy.

Why couldn't she stop thinking of him? Maybe it was the suspicion and the paranoia. She nodded to herself, right. Suspicion and paranoia. Two things that were completely normal.

Unwilling to go out tonight, unlike usual, Nadia made her way home. Maybe she would binge-watch a television show or something. The thought made her snort lightly to herself. She most likely wouldn't binge watch a show-- she'd probably work on strategies and escape plans.

With the attacks coming more frequent, General Luciano ( or Lucianhoe as she called him behind his back ) was in demand for more routes out and more attack plans. But the thing was, they hadn't attacked in weeks. That irritated her to no end. They were recruiting, sure. But when those camps were found and then murdered? Nobody lifted a finger. She felt that they needed to fight back.

It made her truly wonder why he was having her run these plans if they weren't doing anything. A surge of annoyance coursed through her veins as she nearly threw open her door. It hit the wall with such force that she initially winced, hoping that there wasn't another hole for her to repair. The sound of crinkling paper caught her attention.

Down, under her feet was a small somewhat folded piece of paper. Shutting the door behind her she bent down to pick it up. Unfolding it fully, she could tell it was a males writing. “ Coffee? 4:30. “ A simple request. Chewing on her lower lip, she debated it. The last time she answered a note like this-- she was kidnapped.

Even though she was now in the rebellion, she would rather not go through another kidnapping. Deciding that the worst could happen to her was death, she decided to go. The camp only had one coffee shop, so it was pretty obvious on where this person wanted to meet.