The Fugitive

The Question

Emily Anderson's POV

Empty. The room was empty. Cautiously, I loaded my gun and stepped inside.

Even though no one appeared to be home, someone most definitely lived here. I kicked a styrofoam container away and moved further into the small space. A rug had been tossed aside, and underneath was a small space.

The perfect size for a gun.

"Search the room," I ordered. "Find him." Officers flooded in, some with guns and others with dogs.

I stepped backwards, out of the room. Waiting for me was Conway.  "Ah....I need to tell you something." He rubbed his neck. "It seems that we have lost Aldridge."

"What?!" I glared at him. "I thought she was with you."

He glanced down at his feet. "Well, she was. But then I thought I caught sight of Sievers, so I left her with another officer."

I huffed. "Well, it seems like I'll need to have a word with this person. Who are they?"

Conway shrugged. "I had never met him before. I think his name was....Derek?"

Derek. I frowned. "I don't remember bringing anyone on this mission named Derek. I'll have to check that out."

Suddenly, a dog barked from within the apartment. "We've got a scent!" someone shouted. I glanced at Conway one more time before following the dog.

Time Skip

Eventually, we made it to an empty field. But the dog didn't keep going. No, it just stopped.

The man handling the dog held out a piece of Sievers' clothing from the apartment again for the dog to smell, but it remained still.

"What the heck?" I heard someone ask. But I had a theory.

Slowly, I approached where the dog was patiently sitting and looked around.

"See anything?" Conway asked.

I frowned, scanning the grass. "There," I said suddenly, pointing at three indentations in the earth. "They got away in a jet. I figured as much."

"How did they get a jet?" Conway asked.

I shook my head. "That isn't important right now. Finding them is." In a louder voice so everyone could hear, I ordered, "Contact the Canadian government. Ask if there have been any bogeys in their airspace."

I began to walk off, but Conway caught my arm. "And you? What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to investigate Derek."

Nick Sievers' POV

Jay is alive.

Jay is alive.

I stared out the jet's window, watching the green grass far below. Could it be? Or was this all just another a lie? I glanced at the cockpit, where Derek was seated. He had headphones over his ears and hands on the black steering wheel. Anything I said now would fall on deaf ears.

I turned toward Aldridge, seated beside me. "Why should I believe you?"

Aldridge sighed. "Look, Nick, it's just a theory. We don't know for sure."

"You haven't answered the question."

"Witnesses of the Pearl Harbor explosion reported seeing a figure escape moments before the missile went off. The FBI visited his former residence, and discovered traces of someone having been there very recently."

"You could be making all this up."

She shrugged. "You're right. I have no way of proving anything to you. But isn't the chance worth it?"

Was it? How far would I go to get Jay back?

I sighed and laid my head back against the headrest, fingers drumming against my leg. Instantly, though, I stopped myself. Hitmen couldn't afford to be making unnecessary noise.

I looked back at Aldridge, who was staring out the window. Although by the distant look in her eyes, it was obvious she wasn't really studying the landscape. She was thinking, or at least pretending to.

"Do you love him?"

Aldridge frowned. "Who?" But after a moment, she answered her own question. "Oh."

She shifted. "He's very kind. The kids love him, and he would do anything in the world for me." Her eyes drifted to Derek. "He's a good person."

I shook my head. "But do you love him?"

Aldridge remained silent for so long, I was convinced she had forgotten the question. Sighing, I turned away and looked out the window.

I sensed Aldridge shifting beside me, but didn't look in her direction. Not even as she spoke.

"After you, I'm not sure what love is supposed to look like."