GLIMPSES OF DOUBT

Lena's POV Silence cannot be this loud, never would have guessed. It smushed in on me, choking around my chest. Except for the tiny flickering of light from a candle Finn had located, the chamber we had sought cover in was black. While Mara was curled up against the wall, blankly staring nowhere, Jacob sat across from me lost in contemplation. She hadn't spoken since we arrived here, and I wasn't sure whether she was still processing the earlier events or getting ready for the next storm. It was like the still before the certain explosion. "How long do you guess we have?" My voice low, I asked, then turned to Finn. Standing by the window, he was gazing out into the night as though he were expecting Beckett's men to burst in any minute. Not long, he said under silence. " Beckett's reorganizing. He will want to come quickly after us. I could sense the effort he was trying to conceal—weary face. At this point, we were all running on fumes, but Finn—who had assumed responsibility for keeping us together—was making decisions under extreme heat of battle. Still, I could tell he was feeling this. Starting to show were the fractures. At last shattering the quiet, Jacob asked, "I don't know if we can keep running." "For too long, we have been one step ahead of him. He is going to catch up. Finn shot a quick "No," turning abruptly. "We cannot conceive in such a manner. Our advantage still resides with us. We merely have to keep on. But even to me, his comments seemed empty. It transcended simply keeping one step ahead now. Now Beckett was playing another game, and I wasn't sure whether we really understood the rules. Jacob gave his head shakes. "We are not ready for this. We deserve more time. "We do not have more time!!" Finn smacked his hand on the wall, and the harsh sound made me flutter. " Beckett's close in is in. We do not have another opportunity. There is this. I observed Finn closely, noting the stiffness in his jaw and the way his shoulders contracted. He was terrified as much as angry. Although everything was starting to weigh him down, he would not let anyone see it. He couldn't afford to. "I think...," said When she spoke at last, her voice was gentle and nearly reluctant. She turned each of us in turn, her eyes wide with something like terror but also a kind of resolution. We should stop running, in my opinion. Finn turned his head toward her. "What?" "I mean it," she murmured, rising slowly as though gathering the will to press on. The Beckett's not going to stop. Running indefinitely is not something we can continue. Perhaps we should have confronted him. My heart still missed a beat. From her, I had not expected that. Once someone who had spent so much time questioning herself, Mara now came before us and suggested something I never would have had the confidence to utter. Jacob shook his head and grimaced. "We're not prepared." We are outgunned, outnumbered—that is, " "We're never ready," Mara said, her voice becoming firm. But we cannot continue to live like this—always starting over our shoulders—on the run. That knowledge is known by Beckett. He is depending on us being too afraid to retaliate. She had nothing to be incorrect. Beckett had gently worn us down bit by bit and performed flawlessly. But what Mara was implying—it seemed almost suicidal, careless. Still, there was a part of me unable to reject the truth in her comments. "What's your intention?" I met her look and asked softly. Mara stopped and took a hard swallow. "We invited him in." Let him believe he has won; then we strike him where it hurts. There was a moment of astonished quiet. Finn fixed her as though she had lost her mind, but I saw something different. She had displayed when she raised the pistol back in the confrontation—only this time, she wasn't shaking—a glimpse of the same strength. Finn finally remarked, his voice strained, "I don't know if that's a risk we can take." "We have to accept this risk," Mara said with determined eyes. "We cannot allow him to keep dictating the board. Some of that power has to be taken back. Finn stopped, staring between all of us, then opened his lips to argue. His eyes stayed on me, as though he were looking for something—validation, consensus, anything. Still, all I could provide was a brief nod. Mara had an outrageous idea. Still, then, so was everything that had led us to this point. The tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife permeated the slow ticking hours while we got ready. Mara had come alive in a manner I had not seen before—giving commands, organizing ideas, assembling a plan. It was quite different from the girl who had earlier questioned every action. And it was not just her. For all his irritation, Finn had begun to soften as the idea developed. As Mara stood up, the weight of leadership he had borne alone appeared to lighten; I could see the change in his expression—relief, maybe even trust. Jacob, on the other hand, was quieter than usual and wrinkled in concentration. Always the careful one, he had been the voice of reason as things spiraled out of control. Now, though, I could see he was grappling with uncertainty about whether this was the correct road forward. Are you here with us, Jacob? As we sat near the window and the others were debating specifics behind us, I inquired softly. He breathed deeply and massaged the back of his neck. "Lena, not sure. This seems...incorrect. I nodded, knowing. But our only option is not clear-cut. Jacob fixed me, his eyes full of doubt. "Do you actually think this will work?" I paused, not wishing to lie. "I'm not sure." But I have faith in Mara. His look softened, and he nodded softly. Sure. Me likewise. We were ready as least as ready as we could have by the time the sun started to rise. Mara had carefully gone over the strategy to make sure everyone understood their roles. Though Beckett's men would be observing and waiting for us to make mistakes, we had the benefit of surprise. We no longer ran. We were fighting. I found myself standing by Finn as we got ready to move out. He gazed at me, a mix of tiredness and something more in his eyes—something I couldn't quite put in place. Quietly asking, "You're sure about this?" I nodded, while my heart hammered in my chest. As sure as I could be. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled softly. Lena, I hope you are right. "I hope so too.." We kept low and stealthy as we glided across the deserted construction like shadows. Every stride sent an adrenaline surge through my veins as the air thickened with expectation. Mara set the example, her eyes keen and deliberate. This was her moment, and for the first time I recognized her for the true strong, capable, fearless person. We arrived at the site we had spotted earlier and set up, waiting in the low light. Though the execution was everything, the idea was straightforward. We had no means to afford one error. Then we heard it—the low murmur of voices then accompanied the faint sound of footsteps coming. Men of Beckett's. I grabbed the knife at my side and looked at Finn, my heart racing. This was it. The door creaked open, and momentarily everything appeared to slow down. Unaware of the trap we had devised, Beckett entered view and looked about the room. Time was running out. When Mara signaled, anarchy broke out. Though the plan went practically flawlessly, I discovered something vital as the dust settled: Beckett was absent. Though he had dispatched his warriors, he was not among them. He possessed knowledge. In some way, he had known. My mind running, panic shot through me as I looked about the room. Where was he? "Lena!"— Finn's words sliced through the ambiguity, but I could hardly pay attention. Something didn't seem right. Then I saw him, there in the darkness, smilingly observing us and sending shivers down my spine. All along Beckett had been performing for us. "Good try," he replied, stepping closer with hostile eyes. Yet you're too late. My heart sinking, I fixed my gaze on him. This was not done here. Not exactly by chance.