The concourse of Bradfield Park station was filled with families, some of whom clutched each other, relieved to be reunited. Others scanned the crowd, desperately searching for faces that were not there.

Vanessa avoided the parents, the questions in their eyes, the silent accusations she couldn't bear to face. Another failed assignment. Bradfield Park marked the conclusion of the Orange Hill operation. In theory, this should have felt like an ending, a chapter closed.

Local police officers moved from family to family taking statements from shaken survivors. Vanessa's lips twitched into a bitter smile. It felt like an exercise in futility—what good would statements do when the reality was that they were at war? But she understood the ritual of it; procedure provided the illusion of order, a semblance of control.

Above her, an old wooden clock hung in the terminal. The polished stone floors gleamed underfoot, and the benches lining the concourse had recently been painted a fresh blue. Beneath the clock, a sleek maglev train symbolised a glimmer of hope. Station staff bustled around the train, aware that someone important was on board.

The train had come from Government City, and that meant power.

Resting her forehead on her hand, Vanessa's eyes were fixed on the people disembarking from the train. She felt a wave of uncertainty, unsure of what kind of reception awaited her. Her last-minute plea for assistance at Windfield Hospital had resulted in instructions to continue working with the Orange Hill students. It was a gamble, but one she had to take. She relied on the networks her family had once maintained, hoping they still held influence.

A hand landed on her shoulder, and she turned to meet Agent Turner's gaze.

"411," he said, his smile appearing overly casual, his hair slicked back like a salesman trying too hard. "Good to see you're okay."

"What are you doing here?"

Chuckling, he quipped, "Keeping tabs on my movements, are you? Reassigned to Government City. I heard many of the students were saved. Seems like you deserve commendation."

She narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean? How are you even here? The train line was destroyed."

Turner chuckled, the kind of laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm always on the move. Not bad, considering the radar issues."

"What are you talking about?"

He leaned in slightly. "I read the report you submitted last night. You and the others did an incredible job in getting help. You deserve some time off."

As they spoke, Vanessa noticed a small group of personal security agents in suits disembarking from the carriage closest to them. Her attention returned to Turner. "Right now, an investigation into how all of this happened is far more crucial. I don't remember submitting my report to you."

"Is it true that Laura Reid survived?"

Agent Turner's questioning felt intrusive, and his rapid access to her reports was unsettling. At that moment, she locked eyes with one of the security personnel, exchanging a brief but unmistakable signal—it was time.

Vanessa stepped around Turner, but he swiftly reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Did you hear what I asked?" His voice carried a menacing tone.

"I suggest you let go of me and remember who you're talking to. You're a corporate. You have no business questioning me about operational matters."

Smirking, he released his grip. "I didn't mean to offend you."

She turned and headed to the station master's office. When she finally reached the door, she took a moment to compose herself before stepping inside, determined to silence the nagging doubts in the back of her mind. Now was not the time for hesitation but for bold decisions. She was prepared to make her case with her freedom and life hanging in the balance. She grasped the handle and entered the room.

****

Laura sat at the back of the rickety bus, holding Lee's hand. He was more than just a companion; he was a lifeline in a world turned upside down. As the bus jostled along the deteriorating roads toward Bradfield Park, her mind replayed the tumultuous events that had inexplicably bound their lives together—mistakes, chaos, and miraculous turns of fate.

The bus was a relic, and its air conditioning unit had been broken for a long time. Each pothole they hit sent a jarring shockwave through Laura's already aching body. But the physical discomfort felt trivial now; she was savouring these fleeting moments with Lee.

Last night had been anything but restful. They had slept in a makeshift tent, and the air was thick with humidity. Laura wore an oversized shirt distributed by the soldiers, and her shorts were ripped.

"Will you stay?" Laura finally mustered the courage to ask.

Lee exhaled, his eyes momentarily leaving hers to gaze out the bus window. It was as if he were searching for his answer in the passing landscape, a far-off look clouding his features. "I don't think so," he finally said. "I'm stationed out of Windfield."

A twinge of disappointment tightened around Laura's heart, but she forced herself to continue. "How would you get back?"

"Perhaps a detour through another city," he finally said, his eyes meeting hers.

Sensing there was more to his story, Laura ventured further. "How do you know Vanessa, the agent?" Her voice was softer now, almost cautious as if she were stepping onto uncertain ground.

Lee hesitated, his grip on her hand slackening as the bus navigated another crater in the road. "Pure coincidence. I was checking papers at a commuter station when rebels attacked. Vanessa and I ended up barricaded in a panic room. For days, it was just the two of us, uncertain if help would arrive. The rebels had hostages; one was a politician."

"Did they make it?"

"The rebels had an agenda. They wanted to prove that the government would prioritise one politician over ten civilians. In the end, it wasn't about numbers but about who you are."

"I thought we were all meant to be equally important, but since I've been in the city it's become evident that's not the case."

"It's the grim reality," Lee said, bitterness creeping into his voice. "Sometimes, there are no good choices, only less terrible ones. We had a plan, but a phone call changed everything. We weren't given the option to act."

"But a phone call? How could they know the situation?"

"Orders are orders. There was disagreement, but it wasn't my call or Vanessa's. She made the choice for me."

"Is it normal for you to work with the agents?"

"No, it's not," Lee admitted. "Vanessa has, in a way, made me her project. I never wanted this life. I joined the military for my parents. She told me to accept my fate but also hinted that if I fulfil my contract, other paths might open up."

The bus lurched to a halt, snapping them out of their conversation. They had reached Bradfield Park Station, signalling the end of their journey.

Laura stood with wobbly legs, looking at Lee, her eyes filled with unspoken emotions. "So, this is goodbye?"

Lee rose to his full height, towering over her, and pulled her into a tight embrace. "For now," he whispered into her ear, "but I have a feeling our paths will cross again."

As Laura stepped off the bus and into the vast expanse of Bradfield Park Station, she looked back at Lee. He caught her gaze and waved. It was a final farewell that conveyed so much—a silent acknowledgment of the complexities between them. Then he disappeared, swallowed by the crowd.

As she navigated through the station, her gaze fell on Vanessa. The agent stood alone, exuding a sense of authority. But then she noticed him—the agent she had seen with her father in Orange Hill, the one who had been there on the night that changed everything. That night had cost her dearly. Fear gripped her, and she turned away, quickening her steps to put distance between herself and the two agents.

While she searched for her parents, two individuals in navy blue suits intercepted her—a middle-aged man and a woman with meticulously styled hair.

"Laura Reid?" the woman inquired.

"Who is asking?" Laura took a small step back. They looked like agents, their expressions stern and cold.

"Can you please come with us?" the man's words did not sound like a question. Dread washed over her—perhaps the Agency would not let her go.

****

The woman ushered Laura into a cramped room, closing the door behind them. The walls were a sterile shade of beige, covered partially by a bulletin board cluttered with faded notices and a small kitchenette in the corner. The air was stale and uncomfortably warm, making Laura feel like the walls were closing in.

Across the table, the two officials settled into their seats. The man leaned forward, resting his elbows on the laminate surface. Laura took a deep breath, steadying her racing heart. Laura's leg began to bounce involuntarily. She stilled it with a firm hand, gritting her teeth to maintain a facade of calm.

The woman placed a device on the table and started swiping the air as if a screen was in front of her – though Laura couldn't' see a thing.

"Miss Reid, do you know why we are here?" the woman asked.

"No. Should I?"

In a monotone voice, the man said, "We have information that you were associated with an individual convicted of faith crimes. Is that correct?"

"Seriously?" Laura replied, exasperated. "Yes, I knew him," she admitted, her voice tinged with sadness that she couldn't conceal. "How many times will my past be dredged up like this?"

"And what is your understanding of the rebel cause?" the man pressed.

Laura was caught off guard, but she didn't have to think hard about the answer. "The rebels? They're terrorists, plain and simple. They're fighting for an ideology they don't even fully comprehend."

"And the enemy?" the woman probed.

"We were attacked, and you are asking me this now?" Laura was incredulous.

The man exchanged a brief nod with his colleague, confirming Laura's suspicion that their questions were scripted.

"And your opinion of the government?" the woman continued.

Laura faltered. The question was a minefield. "A lot of people have died. I haven't seen my family in weeks. I just want to go home. I did everything right, and it still wasn't enough."

"Miss Reid, we're here because we've received an application for your transfer to an internship at Government City."

Laura felt as if the floor had dropped out from under her. This wasn't an interrogation; it was an opportunity, albeit one she hadn't asked for.

"I never applied for that. You need sponsorship for those positions. Who would sponsor me?"

"The Agency," the man revealed.

Laura's eyes widened, her pulse quickening. The thought of the Agency sponsoring her for a privileged position was inconceivable. "Is this for real? I was under the impression that there were rigorous applications, interviews, and tests for something like this."

The man leaned back, interlocking his fingers. "To be candid, Miss Reid, applications like yours are a rarity. However, the Agency's endorsement carries significant weight. Their sponsorship is not to be taken lightly."

"Is this actually happening?" Laura's voice trembled, optimism colouring her words.

The woman cleared her throat. "Let's focus. Government City is not like any other community. You're already chipped, so you're familiar with tracking. But in Government City, that chip is far more than a simple ID. Your every move will be monitored for your safety and ours."

The man interjected, "Moreover, you'll be under the surveillance of Anika, the city's advanced AI system. She's the invisible guardian, the watchful eye that keeps us safe from rebels and external threats."

"How long do I have to decide?"

The woman glanced at her watch. "Time is of the essence. A train bound for Government City is departing shortly. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Miss Reid. A chance for a new beginning, a career, a life away from the perils you know."

"And Anika? I've never heard of it."

"She's the city's neural network," the woman elaborated. "She has access to every corner, every individual. She's the reason Government City has remained impenetrable. She's not just a program; she's a protector."

Laura reflected on her life, her family, her future, and Lee. Where did she see herself in a decade? Was this a golden opportunity or a gilded cage? Once she stepped onto that train, there was no turning back.

She looked up, locking eyes with the man and woman who held her future in their hands. "Can I have a moment?"

If she said yes, there was no turning back. She would leave her family and her community for a new life. It would offer a clean slate from what happened in Orange Hill but isolate her from family. But if she declined, she would have to continue living with the students who bullied her, who called her a traitor, and she wouldn't get another opportunity to go to Government City.

****

Standing alone in the concourse, Vanessa wiped a bead of sweat from the nape of her neck. Her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for Eric. She walked along the platform where the Government City train was preparing to depart. Vanessa imagined Government City as a utopia, a haven free from the chaos of crime, rebels, and enemy spies—a world where even the Agency had no influence.

A few carriages down, she saw Winters waving from a window with almost childlike enthusiasm. She walked toward him. Each step seemed to amplify the fatigue that had settled deep into her muscles—a new and unwelcome sensation.

Winters flinched when Vanessa's hand touched his shoulder. His focus was too entranced on Laura, who sat inside the train. Vanessa's lips twitched into a half-smile. "Putting her on another train feels almost sadistic, doesn't it?" she said, her eyes meeting Laura's through the glass.

The loudspeaker crackled to life, announcing the train's imminent departure. The platform was now almost deserted. Laura appeared to be alone in her carriage.

Laura blew a kiss to Winters, who pretended to catch it. "What's the story here?" Winters asked the question with a smile, but his tone indicated he was worried.

"Didn't Laura tell you?"

"Laura said something about the Agency sponsoring her for Government City. She seemed...torn. Why send her to Bradfield Park if she was going to Government City?"

"I was following orders," Vanessa replied, stifling a yawn.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why? Are you upset I've separated you lovebirds?" she teased.

As the train doors slid closed, Laura wiped tears from her eyes – she looked scared and excited.

"Something's off," he murmured.

Vanessa playfully smacked him on the back of the head. "Focus on your military contract, Private. Laura's got some growing up to do, and you've got years left to serve. Survive that, then make plans."

The train departed, Laura turning in her seat to keep waving at Winters until she disappeared from view.

Vanessa chuckled when she saw Winters' bewildered expression.

"Why is Laura being sent to Government City? I thought those spots were a privilege, and she doesn't have a clean record now."

"It's time for you to drop the topic."

"And if I asked your colleague?"

Vanessa's mood shifted. "It's not a game, Winters. This was the only way to keep her safe."

His voice rose, the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. "You agents think you can manipulate everyone, just like those politicians in their ivory towers." He paused, taking a deep breath.

"We are all tired, but now is not the time to forget your place."

"I put my life on the line trying to get to that beacon, but you still treat me like an outsider. Why offer Laura this golden ticket?"

She looked away, her voice dropping even lower. "It's complicated."

His eyes locked onto hers. He was not going to let this go. "You've trusted me this far, and I helped save our lives. I deserve an explanation."

She turned and headed for the exit, but he followed.

"I'm under pressure to execute orders I don't agree with. Sending Laura to Government City was the only way to ensure her safety. Lee, there are bigger things at play here, things you're not privy to. When we get back, you need to distance yourself from me."

"What? Why?"

She paused, her back to him. "Didn't Laura tell you anything?"

"We talked about life, Vanessa. No war, no plots—just life."

She turned to face him, her eyes searching his. "Those soldiers were targeting me. When you return to Windfield, you'll be questioned about me and the attack. Protect yourself. They'll find out about Laura, but they won't be able to touch her. We'll be travelling back to Windfield together, and it's important you don't bring this up again."

She felt uncertain about what would remain of them when they returned to Windfield. As their conversation came to an end, shouts and cries suddenly erupted across the concourse. A man approached her, panting heavily. "In the bathrooms, someone has been attacked."

Vanessa followed the man to the public bathroom, where a group of people had gathered around a person slumped against the wall near the sinks. The crowd stepped aside to let her approach, and she was shocked to find Frank Reid on the ground, bleeding. His face was pale, and his eyes flickered in and out of consciousness.

His wife, Naomi, knelt beside him, her hands soaked in his blood as she applied pressure to the wound.

Vanessa leaned in and checked for a pulse. It was there, but weak. She asked Naomi to lift the injured person's hand so she could examine the wound. To her surprise, it appeared to be a gunshot wound, even though they had heard no shots fired. Eric approached and grasped her shoulder, his grip tight with worry. "Someone is armed," he said, his voice tense. "We need to assist the police. An ambulance is on the way."

"Why would anyone want to hurt him?"

Alongside Eric, she assisted the police in questioning witnesses and searching individuals, but no one had seen what happened. With the train to Government City having departed just minutes earlier, they had already lost contact with potential suspects. This was not a random act of violence; it was a targeted attack with potentially far-reaching implications.

Paramedics arrived quickly, and it wasn't long before Frank Reid was wheeled into the ambulance. His condition was critical but stable.

Vanessa then turned her attention to Naomi Reid, who was sitting in the concourse with her back against a wall. Her eyes were swollen, and her hands were still stained with her husband's blood.

Vanessa knelt before Naomi, their eyes locking. "Naomi, my name is..." She hesitated, recalling her training, which instructed her to give only her agent number to civilians. However, the seriousness of the situation and the blood on Naomi's hands pushed her to break protocol. "Vanessa. I'm an agent, and I travelled with your daughter. Did Frank have any enemies in Orange Hill?"

Naomi wiped a tear from her eye. "I don't know. Maybe there's another faith criminal here. Frank will tell us more, if he—" Her voice choked off, unable to complete the sentence.

"I understand," Vanessa said, catching Eric's gaze from afar. He watched her but kept a respectful distance.

"Laura mentioned an agent in Orange Hill interested in Frank's work. Do you know what he was working on?" Vanessa asked.

The presence of Agent Turner at the station and now Frank's shooting—it couldn't be a coincidence.

"Frank managed the Madicorp greenhouse. That was no secret," Naomi replied, her voice shaky but clear.

"What about the family convicted of faith crimes? Could this be related? I understand Laura was close to their son."

Naomi shook her head, her eyes clouded with confusion. "We were just as surprised as everyone else when that happened. But Frank had been arguing with Jeremy a few days before all this. Jeremy started acting strange, talking about genetic enhancements and 'ridding the world of unnatural people.' I don't know what got into him." Her eyes flicked to Vanessa's arm. "You're one of them, aren't you? Genetically enhanced?"

If Naomi overheard that conversation correctly, it could provide valuable insight into Johan's motives, the rogue agent. He targeted both Vanessa and 349, who were genetically enhanced.

"Madicorp operates farms all over the country. Do you think Frank's work had any connection to the Agency? I'm struggling to see the link between greenhouse plants and a conversation about genetic enhancements," Vanessa pressed.

Eric approached, and beside him were two uniformed officers. "We need to talk," he said, gesturing for Vanessa to step away. "Our orders are to move out immediately. HQ doesn't want us involved in this."

Vanessa glanced back at Naomi as the local officers took charge. She felt a pang of regret, sensing that there was a puzzle behind all these events, but she was missing crucial pieces. With a reluctant nod to Eric, she conceded that the investigation would have to be handed over to the Bradfield police.