Volume Three, Chapter Five: Safe Harbor
The safehouse was gone. The coalition moved under cover of darkness, splitting into pairs and regrouping at a nondescript bungalow on the edge of a quiet Miami neighborhood. The air was thick with humidity, the distant buzz of cicadas mixing with the low hum of passing cars. Walter knocked on the door in a coded rhythm. It swung open to reveal a man in a faded t-shirt, sunglasses perched on his head despite the late hour.
Michael Westen greeted them with a wry smile. "You must be the infamous fugitives I've been hearing about. Come in. Don't stand out there like targets."
Inside, the house was a fortress disguised as a fixer-upper. Blackout curtains, reinforced locks, and a kitchen table covered in blueprints and burner phones. Sam, Michael's ever-loyal friend, handed out glasses of water and sized up the newcomers with a practiced eye.
"Relax," Michael said, motioning for everyone to sit. "You're safe here. For now."
Gibbs nodded, scanning the room. "Thanks for the hospitality."
Michael shrugged. "Let's just say I have a soft spot for people on the wrong side of the government—especially when the government's wrong."
Penelope set up her laptop, connecting to a secure line. "We need to keep moving. The task force is closing in, and they've got resources we can't match."
Michael leaned over her shoulder, studying the map on her screen. "You're thinking like prey. You need to think like a spy. Disappear in plain sight, blend in, use their own surveillance against them."
Walter looked intrigued. "You have a plan?"
Michael grinned. "I always have a plan. But first, you need to ditch everything that can be tracked. Phones, credit cards, even your shoes if they have RFID tags. Sam, get the burn kit."
Sam tossed a duffel bag onto the table. "New IDs, burner phones, prepaid cards. Compliments of a friend in the business."
Sylvester examined the IDs, impressed. "These are good. Like, really good."
Michael winked. "I learned from the best."
Olivia, still wary, leaned in. "We need to get to D.C. There's a safehouse with files that could blow this whole thing wide open."
Michael's expression turned serious. "D.C. is crawling with feds right now. You'll need a distraction—something big."
Samara spoke up. "What about the files we already released? The media's still running with the story. Maybe we can use that to our advantage."
Michael nodded. "Exactly. Create noise. Make them look one way while you move the other."
Gibbs checked his watch. "How long do we have?"
Michael glanced at the security feed. "Not long. I've got a friend with a boat. It'll get you out of Miami without touching any major checkpoints. From there, you'll have to improvise."
Penelope handed out the new burner phones. "I'll set up a rotating signal. Every thirty minutes, switch to the next phone. It'll make tracking us a nightmare."
Walter studied the blueprints Michael laid out. "What about supplies? Weapons?"
Sam grinned. "Already in the trunk. You'll be traveling light, but you won't be defenseless."
As the team prepared to move, Michael pulled Olivia aside. "You're carrying a lot, aren't you?"
She met his gaze, unflinching. "We all are."
He nodded, understanding. "Just remember—sometimes the best way to win is to walk away from the fight. At least for a while."
Olivia almost smiled. "I'll keep that in mind."
Outside, the night was thick and hot. The coalition slipped into the shadows, armed with new identities and a fresh sense of purpose. The hunt was far from over, but for the first time, they had the advantage.
As Michael watched them disappear into the darkness, he muttered to himself, "Let's see the government try to keep up with that."
The city lights flickered in the distance, unaware of the war unfolding in its midst. For now, the coalition had found safe harbor. But the storm was only beginning.
End of Chapter Five