Chapter 2 - Witness Protection

Rain-soaked buildings blurred past as the car sped through the drenched streets of Washington DC. The windshield wipers slashed furiously, barely keeping up with the downpour. Grace sat in the passenger seat, water still dripping form her soaked hair and clothes. Her entire body shivered, partly from the cold but mostly from the lingering adrenaline crash that left her muscles trembling.

Her mind struggled to catch up with everything that had happened. A few hours ago, she'd been reviewing video footage for her new book. Now she was on the run from men in dark suits, crammed into a car with a stranger who had burst into her life. She didn't know who to trust. Hell, she wasn't even sure she trusted herself to make sense of it all.

The driver had been silent, expertly weaving through traffic and backstreets to lose any pursuers. Now, with the city lights blending into the rain-streaked darkness, he finally slowed, merging into the late-night traffic that trickled along the drenched streets.

Grace's heart was still pounding, her hands clenched into fists on her lap. Every muscle in her body felt wound tight, ready to bolt. Glancing sideways at the driver, she tried to get a read on him. He gave off an attitude as professional as those who had just broken into her room. What had she gotten herself into?

The driver's voice broke through the silence, smooth and calm. "You can stop trying to figure out who I am by staring at me from the corner of your eye," he said, a small smile playing at his lips. "Or you could just ask."

Grace flinched, embarrassed that she'd been so obvious. She took a shaky breath, then forced herself to speak. "Fine. Who the hell are you?"

The driver didn't seem offended by her tone. If anything, he looked amused. "Someone who wants to make sure the wrong people don't get their hands on you," he said. "Or the evidence you have."

Grace felt a flicker of unease. He was being delibaretly vague, and she didn't trust vague. "That's not really an answer," she shot back.

"No," he admitted, his grin widening. "But you'll just have to live with that for now." He glanced at her, his eyes turning serious. "I know what you've recorded, Grace. And I know why those men want you silenced."

Her stomach twisted. She couldn't afford to trust him. Not yet. "How do I konw you're not just another one of them?" she demanded. Her hand crept toward the door handle, ready to jump if things got worse."

He noticed, of course. "If you thought that, why did you get int he car?" he asked calmly. "Desperation?" he raised an eyebrow. "Or hope?"

Grace's lips pressed into a thin line and she shrugged. "Desperation," she admitted. "I didn't have many options at that time. But that doesn't mean I have to stay."

The man chuckled softly, but there was no humour in the sound. "Jumping out of a moving car in the rain? Not your best plan. Trust me, they'd find you in minutes."

Grace hated that he was right. She hated feeling trapped, with no good choices. But she sat back, forcing herself to think instead of react.

By the time they pulled into a quiet Westchester neighbourhood, Grace had tracked every turn and street sign, trying to keep her bearings. The car rolled to a stop in front of a nondescript houts, its porch light barely cutting through the rain. The driver shut off the engine and got out, coming around to open her door.

Grace hesitated. This was the moment when she should run. She could vanish into the night, maybe disappear before anyone else tried to kill her. But the logical part of her brain screamed that she wouldn't make it far. So she swallowed her fear and let him help her out of the car, her soaked clothes clinging to her body and making her shiver harder.

The man held her gaze, his eyes sincere. "I know you have no reason to trust me," he said quietly. "But in that house is someone who can help you, and right now you need that help. You may know where you are..." Grace startled at that and the man smiled again. "Yes I noticed you keeping track of every turn and street sign. I am impressed, but knowing where you are won't help in the long run. They will still find you. Only the person in that house can help. And we need you and your evidence."

Grace narrowed her eyes. "Why me?" she whispered. "I'm not anyone special. I'm just a writer. This shouldn't be happening to me."

He softened, but didn't answer. Instead, he led her to the front door, his grip on her firm but not forceful. The house looked ordinary, but everything about this situation screamed danger. Her instincts were yelling at her to be ready for anything.

The door opened, and the driver guided her inside. The place was eerily quiet. Grace's heart pounded as he led her into the living room that looked normal enough - couch, bookshelves, nothing obviously sinister. Yet her gut told her to stay alert.

A noise made her spin, and she noticed a man sitting at the dining table in the adjacent room. He stood tall, and composed, his dark suit perfectly pressed. He had short, curly hair and deep brown skin, and there was something commanding yet approachable about his presence.

He gave Grace a small smile. "Grace MacBhàtair," he said. "I am Special Agent Alan Stevens."

Grace folded her arms, trying to steady her nerves. "How do you know my name?" she demanded, trying to project confidence despite the tremor in her voice.

Alan's smile widened a fraction. "How could I not know such a popular writer. Besides we've been following your case ever since your first vlog. Please, sit. We need to talk."

Grace stayed standing, suspicion twisting her gut. "I'm not sitting until I know what's going on." She hesitated, frowning, "my first vlog in New York? Why?"

Alan nodded, accepting her defiance. "Stand if you like. And yes, you're first vlog. There was something interesting in the background of that footage. So tell me, what do you think you know?"

Grace swalled, her mouth dry. "I know someone wants me dead. On my recent video, I overheard men talking about a plot to... keep the President in power indefinitely, and to get rid of minority communities after. But that's insane, right? There are laws against that."

Alan's expression sobered. "You're correct. There are laws. But laws can be bent, broken or changed if the right people are in place. The conspiracy you uncovered is extensive, and it goes beyond D.C. They've already arranged for the deaths of key senators, forcing snap elections to get their allies in power.

Grace's knees felt weak. "And... you think they'll succeed.

Alan's eyes were hard. "They might, if we don't stop them. That's why your recordings may be important. We witnessed the meeting in New York, but could not get close. We were hoping to pick you up to see if you caught anything. But they moved before we did, and that makes me think that you have something very important."

"Such as?" Grace whispered. "I never noticed anything out of the ordinary," she rolled her eyes, "not that I saw much at the Washington Monument either, not until I reviewed the footage."

"Well let's review the New York footage now," he smiled softly, "I am sure you were smart enough to bring it."

Grace nodded. "I brought my laptop..." she was about to mention the backup drive, but something kept her quiet.

Alan seemed not to notice as he said. "Good. We have time and space right now."

Grace dug the laptop out of her bag and set it up on the dining room table, now taking a seat.

Grace pulled up the relevant footage, nerves prickling under her skin. Alan, all business in his navy suit, leaned closer, observing the video of the capitol grounds in Albany. The video sweeped across the lush grounds, showing them in vivid detail. Grace's voice narrated what she thought these grounds could inspire in her books. She hit the forward button and the video moved faster until it panned over a shadowy corner where three figures whispered in urgent tones: two in plain clothes and one looking unsettlingly official, giving Grace the impression he was some sort of federal protection.

Alan's brows drew together. "Play that back, but clean up the audio and see if you can filter out the background noise."

Grace swallowed, runing her softward to isolate the conversation. Their murmured words emerged "... the New York senator... during the visit with the governor... everything's set."

Alan's eyes hardened. "Can you clean it up some more, I know there is more conversation there."

Grace nodded, and re-ran it through her software, changing her settings to filter out more noise and focus on the shadowy corner.

Grace watched as Alan scrutinized the screen. The conversation crackled with more clarity, revealing more of the scheme. "The senator needs to be replaced," one voice said. "With our candidate joining the others, we can push the constitutional amendments. The governor's schedule gives us the perfect opening."

Alan's jaw tightened. "This isn't just about influence. It sounds like they are rigging the elections too."

Grace shivered. "You think they're planning to...?"

Alan nodded grimly. "They won't hesitate to kill whoever they need to to make sure their handpicked senator gets that seat. And that security officer? Likely an inside man."

"There is more on this recording," Grace said, tapping a few more settings.

Alan leaned even closer, his expression darkening as the conversation continued. "Our threats to the other Democrats are in place," the second voice said, low and deliberate. "California, Texas, Virginia - any resistance will fold. The replacements will be ready. By the time we're through, we'll have the numbers for the amendments."

Grace's stomach twisted. Now she understood how important that other video in D.C was. All of this indicated a sitting president trying to take control of the government and a massive threat to the LGBTQ+ community and any other minority that Pravital Truback chose not to like.

Grace's eyes narrowed with concern. "How did that senator get a federal protection detail, anyway. Isn't that normally covered by local authorities."

Alan ran a hand over his face, his voice tense. "The threat level spiked at just the right moment. But now, I'm starting to put the pieces together. President Trubach could've orchestrated that leak, specifically to manipulate the situation. With the threat established, he had the authority to assign a federal protection team of his choosing - likely compromised operatives working for him. All to ensure his plan would unfuld without interference."

"I never understood how anyone could vote for that numpty," Grace shook her head. "He is beyond crude, racist, homophobic, transphobic and just an absolute moron."

"He made a lot of promises on the economy and immigration."

"And people don't know that he has filed bankruptcy like seven times? Or that he has lost more money than he ever made? Not too mention his comments against immigrants and minorities just exposed his bigoted nature."

"People sometimes don't listen or don't care about others." Alan replied grimly. "I didn't understand either."

Grace bit her lip, anxiety crashing over her in waves. "So what are you planning to do?" she asked.

Alan's jaw tightened. "We'll put you into deep cover. Witness protection, but even more extreme. Your location will be so secret that not even I will now where you are."

Grace's stomach dropped, dread settling in her gut. "Wat... what?" she shook her head. "You mean... I'll have to disappear?"

Alan stood up, pacing, then stopped turned back to her, his gaze softening. "Yes. Everyone, including the people you love, will have to believe you're dead. It's the only way to keep you and your evidence safe."

Grace stumbled back a step, shaking her head furiously. "No. No way. Leeza..." Her voice cracked. "My wife can't think I'm dead. I can't do that to her."

"It's the only way to protect her too," Alan said gently. "If they think you're alive, she becomes a target. They'll use her to get to you."

Tears burned Grace's eyes. She couldn't breath, couldn't think. Everything she loved, everything she'd built, would be ripped away in an instant. The future she'd imagined with Leeza - the lazy mornings, the quiet evenings - would vanish, replaced by a life in hiding."

Alan waited, his face full of sympathy. "I know it's an impossible choice," he said quietly. "But it's the only one that keeps you both safe."

Grace clenched her firsts, struggling to find her balance. She thought of Leeza's smile, the way her laughter lit up a room. Leaving her like this would break both their hearts. But if Grace did nothing, Leeza would be in even more danger.

She took a shaky breat, trying to hold herself together. "Okay," she said, her voice raw. "Fine. I'll do it."

Alan nodded solemnly. "We'll get started immediately."

Grace hesitated, then pushed her laptop closer to Alan. "Here," she said, her voice strained. "This has everything."

Alan took it, but Grace's fingers tightened around the hard drive now hidden in her jacket pocket. The backup drive with copies of all her recordings. She told herself she'd need it later - an insurance policy, a way to ensure she could come back from this non existence. But she kept her expression nuetral, praying Alan wouldn't notice her deception.

"Thank you," Alan said, his sincerity cutting like a knife. "Do you have any other copies?"

Grace forced herself to meet his gaze, her heart poinding. "No," she lied, hoping he couldn't tell. "I didn't had a chance to back anything up."

Alan studied her for a moment, but then he nodded. "Alright. We'll make sure it looks like the evidence died with you." He gestured to a man standing in the shadows - a man so unremarkable that Grace hadn't noticed him until now. "This is Barry. He's the best in the business, and he'll make sure you stay safe."

Barry stepped forward, his face bland and forgettable, his voice low and even. "We need to move quickly," he said. "Once we fake your death, there's no going back until we have overwhelming proof of this conspiracy. Ready?"

Grace's hand thightened around the hidden drive in her pocket. Her heart felt shattered, but she squared her shoulders, refusing to let them see her fear. "Let's get this over with," she said, her voice cracking but her resolve hardening. "Before I change my mind."

Alan's eyes were fully of sympathy as he turned away. "Thank you, Grace. We'll bring you back someday. I promise."

Grace didn't answer as Alan left, with her laptop. She only hoped that when that day came, there would still be something worth coming back to. But with a deep breath, she turned to face Barry, waiting to be told what was next.