Chapter 29: The Call
They returned to the safehouse with bags in hand, bickering over snack choices. Inside, Audrey and Kenzo were reviewing encrypted files on the couch, their knees brushing now with quiet familiarity.
Audrey passed him a mug of tea without needing to ask, and Kenzo murmured a soft thank you, his eyes lingering on her longer than he meant to.
"You always do that," he said suddenly.
She looked up. "Do what?"
"Know exactly what I need, even before I do."
Audrey gave a small smile. "It's part of the INFJ playbook."
Kenzo's lips tugged upward, but his voice stayed quiet. "I think you're more than any personality type could define."
Audrey blinked, caught off guard. "That almost sounded poetic."
He looked back at the screen, but there was a faint blush on his ears. "Well... you make me want to be more."
Audrey looked at him then, truly looked, and something in her chest tightened in a way that wasn't unpleasant. She didn't answer.
That night, long after the others had gone to their rooms, she found herself awake again—too full of thoughts to rest. The common room was dimly lit by the orange glow of a streetlamp outside. She curled up on the couch with a blanket, her tea still warm in her hands.
Kenzo appeared in the doorway moments later, barefoot, holding a half-read book.
"Couldn't sleep?" she asked without looking.
"Didn't want to," he said simply, settling onto the opposite side of the couch.
They sat in silence for a while. The kind that wasn't awkward but necessary.
""Do you ever think about what we'd be if none of this happened?" Audrey asked, her voice a soft whisper in the quiet room.
Kenzo nodded. "Yeah. More than I should. Sometimes I wonder if I'd still be in Tokyo, living out of server rooms and coffee shops. Trying to outwork my ghosts."
Audrey smiled faintly. "Tokyo. I've always wanted to visit."
He looked over at her. "And you? Australia, right?"
She nodded. "Melbourne. Quiet suburbs. The kind with fences and nosy neighbors. I used to think it was boring, but now... I miss it sometimes."
Kenzo leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "I think about it a lot lately. Not the missions. Not the chaos. Just... what happens after."
Audrey turned to him. "You mean when this is over?"
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I think about you going back to Australia. Me going back to Japan. And I don't know why it keeps bothering me so much."
She watched him. "Why does it?"
Kenzo hesitated. "Because for the first time in my life, I don't want distance. I don't want to just let someone go and call it fate."
There was a beat of silence.
Audrey smiled. "You're not going to lose me or Hana or Damian, Kenzo. Not unless you stop showing up with tea and facts about star patterns."
He exhaled, the tension in his chest easing just slightly. But the knot in his stomach didn't fully unravel.
She didn't know—not really—how afraid he was of losing all of this. For the first time, he had something steady. People who saw him. Someone he wanted to stay close to, long after this mission life ended. Audrey.
The thought of going back to silence, to Tokyo, to long nights alone behind cold screens—without her—filled him with a quiet dread.
But he smiled anyway. "I just needed to say it. Even if it's stupid."
"It's not stupid," she said. "It's honest."
They sat there for a moment, the kind of stillness that felt sacred.
Then Audrey leaned her head against his shoulder. "You make it easier to breathe."
Kenzo didn't speak.
He just stayed beside her.
And that was enough.
For now.
Far away, in the quiet hum of a blinking screen buried deep beneath the city, a new name appeared.
A woman. Late twenties. Hospital records flagged for recurring injuries—explained away as clumsiness. A police report half-filed, never followed up. An address shared with a man who had no criminal record, but a long digital shadow of aggressive behavior.
A victim not yet fallen—but teetering on the edge.
Back at the safehouse, the lights flickered once—then again—before the living room monitor powered on by itself.
The four of them were still gathered in the living room, half-sunk into old cushions and half-finished cups of tea. Damian was halfway through a retelling of a chaotic field mission in Morocco when the room suddenly went quiet.
A soft hum filled the air. The monitor blinked awake, unprompted.
One by one, their gazes shifted.
Kenzo sat up straighter, the ease in his shoulders replaced by sudden alertness. "That's not scheduled," he said, already reaching for his laptop.
The monitor flashed to a new interface—no headers, no sender. Just a name. An address. Medical notations. Police report fragments.
Audrey stepped closer, eyes narrowing. The moment she saw the first highlighted detail, her body stiffened.
Hospital record. Facial bruising. Claimed to have fallen. Same address repeated on multiple forms.
Police file. Domestic suspicion. Case dropped.
Something in her cracked.
Her breathing hitched.
Kenzo stood beside her now, watching the tension rise in her shoulders. "Audrey?"
She took a step back. Her hands trembled. Her vision blurred.
No. No, not again.
It was too close. Too familiar. The same excuses. The same patterns. It could've been her. It was her, once.
She stumbled.
"Audrey!" Kenzo caught her, holding her as her legs nearly gave out. She was shaking, her breath coming in broken gasps.
"Breathe," he whispered urgently. "You're here. You're safe. Look at me."
Hana rushed in, crouching beside them. "What happened?"
Damian stared at the screen, his jaw set. "It's the next mission. The girl—she's in trouble. She's with someone dangerous. It's escalating."
Kenzo wrapped an arm tighter around Audrey, his voice low but steady. "You're not alone. Not this time. We're going to stop him. We're going to save her."
Audrey clenched his sleeve, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's happening again."
Hana's voice hardened with resolve. "Then we stop it before it goes any further."
The screen continued to pulse with the woman's name—bright, urgent, unforgiving.
And the storm had already begun.
Audrey sat on the edge of the common room couch, knees drawn close to her chest, her hands trembling in the aftermath of the panic. The monitor's glow had dimmed, but the name on the screen still pulsed—an ominous beat in the room's silence.
Kenzo knelt beside her, careful not to touch her too suddenly. He had seen her like this only once before—when she had relived the moment she woke up from the coma, unsure if she was even still alive. But this was different. This time, it wasn't about their past lives or their missions.
It was about her.
He placed a hand gently on the edge of the blanket draped over her shoulders. "Audrey, breathe. It's okay. You're here. With us."
She closed her eyes and nodded slightly, her breath ragged. The memory had come like a flood—her ex's voice in her ears, the sickening fear, the sense of helplessness. She hadn't been ready for this mission. She hadn't thought she'd ever have to face something so close again.
Hana approached quietly and crouched nearby, her expression neutral but soft. But in her eyes, there was a sharp concern—one that rarely made itself known. She studied Audrey not as a mission lead, but as someone she'd grown to care about. "You're not alone in this," she said quietly. "We've got you."
Damian leaned against the wall, arms crossed, chewing at the inside of his cheek. He looked at Audrey longer than usual, the usual joking glint in his eyes replaced by something quieter. Protective. "Yeah," he said, his voice low but clear. "You've always looked out for all of us. Let us do the same for you."
The three of them—Kenzo, Hana, Damian—didn't say it out loud, but it was understood. Somewhere along the line, their feelings toward Audrey had shifted. She was smart and steady, their moral compass, the one who held them together. But beneath that was someone good, someone kind. And too often, someone who gave more than she took.
And because of that, they had begun to see her as something else too.
Someone they would protect—no matter what.
"You don't have to do this one," Hana said simply. "We can take it."
Audrey opened her eyes. "No. I just... need a minute."
"Take all the minutes," Damian said. "Seriously. You've carried enough for all of us."
There was a silence that stretched for a beat too long.
Then Audrey spoke. "His name was Nate. He's... not technically my ex. We never really ended. You all deserve to know."
The air in the room changed.
Kenzo's eyes flicked to hers, steady and concerned. Damian stood straighter. Hana didn't blink.
"At first, he was charming. The kind who remembers your coffee order, compliments your laugh, sends you playlists," she said slowly, voice even but hollow. "But it changed."
She stared down at her hands. "He stopped letting me see my friends. Said they were a bad influence. That I was too soft. Then it was my clothes. My passwords. My choices. He'd twist every argument to sound like it was my fault. And when I tried to leave, he said I was nothing without him."
Kenzo clenched his jaw, his hands curling into fists where Audrey couldn't see.
"One night... he came to my apartment," she continued, her voice fragile. "He'd been calling nonstop. Accusing me of cheating. Said he saw me with some guy—just a coworker, someone from work asking about a report. But he wouldn't listen."
Her voice cracked, but she kept going. "He was furious. Pushed through the door before I could lock it. Screaming. And the next thing I remember... my whole body ached. I couldn't move without pain. He hit me. Hard. Over and over."
Her breath shook. "I didn't wake up. Not for a long time. That night... it's how I ended up in a coma."
She stared ahead, distant. "I remember flashes. The pain. The screaming. The door slamming shut. His voice—accusing, loud. Hands. Yelling. And then... nothing."
Audrey's voice softened into a whisper. "When I woke up, I was here. In-between. And for a while, I didn't know if that was a punishment... or a second chance."
Silence wrapped the room like a shroud.
Damian looked away, blinking hard. Hana exhaled slowly.
Audrey let out a bitter laugh. "I used to think maybe this was mercy. Being caught in between. Not having to go back. But now there's someone else out there going through the same thing. And I can't pretend I don't know how it feels."
She wiped her eyes and looked at the screen again. The girl's name still blinked.
Kenzo sat beside her now. "Audrey, I—look, if you sit this one out, no one's going to think less of you."
She turned to him, her eyes rimmed red but steady. "But I will."
He didn't argue.
"You can still help her," Hana said. "But not if it destroys you."
Audrey nodded once. "Then we plan it together. I want to help—just... not from anger this time. I don't want to be a weapon. I want to protect her."
Kenzo glanced at the screen, then back at her. His expression was calm, but there was a tightness in his jaw, the kind that only someone watching someone they care about hurt would notice. "Alright," he said, his voice quieter, more deliberate. "Then let's break it down."
He stayed close, his shoulder brushing Audrey's as he turned toward the screen.
Within moments, the team gathered at the table.
Kenzo took point, casting the screen to the wall. "The pattern matches recent escalation—emotional manipulation, financial control, and signs of isolation. There's also a GPS trail showing the partner visiting her workplace multiple times a day."
"Classic surveillance behavior," Hana muttered, flipping her notebook open. She began sketching out access points near the building. "I can run recon. See what her day-to-day looks like."
"We can't intervene unless we know she's ready to leave," Audrey added, her voice steadier now. "But we can be nearby. Give her a way out."
Damian tapped a finger against the edge of the table. "How about I create a diversion? Something low-level. Enough to get her alone—make it seem like an accident."
"We'll need audio confirmation," Kenzo added. "I can route a recorder through her building's power grid."
Hana gave a short nod. "I'll plant it. Quietly."
Audrey leaned back slightly, watching them work. She didn't speak, but her chest loosened with every word. They weren't just planning a mission. They were making space—for her. For the girl.
Damian caught her eye. "You good?"
"Getting there," she said.
He grinned. "Then let's go save someone."
And the planning continued into the night.