After a short helicopter ride, they landed in the middle of mayhem. Law enforcement swarmed an abandoned factory in South Central Los Angeles. As soon as they climbed out of the helicopter, the Chief of Police introduced himself. Robertson blew him off swiftly, but Ariel Juarez could see the look in his eyes.

Not only was the Chief of Police invested in the welfare of one of their own—Jones’s daughter—this was the end of the line for her and Robertson because the Associate Deputy Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigations flanked the Chief’s left. The two men mirrored each other’s rigid, angry demeanor. And with the Chief glaring through Ariel and Robertson, it was unmistakable that they’d be scapegoats.

Which made Ariel being ousted even worse. Her eyes locked onto the Caucasian man with pinched eyebrows. Before she could speak, he said, “Juarez, you and Robertson—you’re both liaisons now.” That meant only speak when consulted with. The big boss shoved his chin toward the FBI trailer that was about thirty yards away and surrounded by other police cars and a SWAT bus.

“Wulf?” Mary Jane asked.

Ariel licked her lips. Casually, she undid her ponytail and tied it into the most severe bun she’d ever had in her entire life. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. Truly she was sorry. From the start, Ariel intended to feed Mary Jane to Jakob Woods.

If one sacrifice meant that others survived, so be it.

Mary Jane seemed to understand as well during their short time of being reacquainted. And while traveling to Peter Grienke, the women had bonded over this understanding. Ariel knew about Mary Jane’s dreams where Grienke threatened of getting rid of Wulf. And so on the ride here, they’d both agreed that Mary Jane could assist in deescalating the issue. Which was not to be the case with the Associate Deputy Director here. While Ariel had a subtle approach, The Director would utilize all the tactical resources. And with such a narrow mind, his only resource would probably be SWAT.

Now she repeated herself, “I’m sorry, Mary Jane. I know that Wulf cannot be here.” Her voice tapered off. Ariel had never held so much power in her life since the Tiana Clement case. She sighed heavily. This was no longer about bringing down the biggest, baddest terrorist turned serial killer. This was about her broken word.

Mary Jane glanced at her and then at the Associate Deputy Director, who was silently conversing with the Chief of Police, and then back at Ariel. “I thought–I thought… I agreed to go in and talk to Jake. There’s no need for guns and-and scaring Bree.”

Ariel held her hand up to calm Mary Jane’s hyperventilating. She was numb about the entire ordeal. The young woman was in love with a man, and a bunch of bad dreams continued to tell her that Peter would break her apart with Dylan Wulf for good. She couldn’t help but try to explain. “Mary Jane, before it came to a hostage situation, using you to bait Woods was a risk I was willing to take. With a minor abductee, there’s no way my boss will allow you into that building. I appreciate your willingness to place your life in jeopardy, but it is literally out of my hands.” All we have now is prayer. My mother would want me to pray.

The heartbreak that pierced Mary Jane’s eyes with an onslaught of tears made Ariel feel even worse. She needed a double shot of whiskey.

Robertson explained, “In a matter of minutes, the plans have changed, Mary Jane. We can’t very well have you playing hero, with a kid’s life at stake.”

Animosity rode along his tone, so Ariel spoke up, “The captain of the police force is best friends with someone in the FBI’s chain of command, and he’s been given a level of control in the situation. We’re going to get screwed in the ass since I just heard that Curbelo has successfully fled the country. Now, we’ve got a little kid’s life on the line.”

Mary Jane scoffed, “But—”

“Trust me, I don’t like it.” Ariel placed her hand on Mary Jane’s shoulder. “And I haven’t forgotten what you said about the dreams and Jake murdering Officer Wulf. Neither I nor Robertson are calling the shots anymore.”

The barracuda stepped up to Ariel again. “Are you deaf? You are now a liaison, Juarez, Robertson. Get ‘er out of here, now!”

The only association he had with Mary Jane was a frown. He did an about-face and headed toward the FBI trailer with his friend in tow.

“Wait.” Mary Jane followed his retreat. “I have to go in and talk to Jake.”

His pale blue eyes turned in her direction for the first time. Ariel took a gulp. She’d just been demoted to ‘liaison’, which meant she could only give intel when spoken to. Yet, Mary Jane had the balls to make an order.

The Assistant Director growled, “Not today!”

Mary Jane started after him. Ariel grabbed her arm.

“I can make him listen, Ariel. I can make Jake listen. Can you get that asshole to stop for a second, so I can tell him?”

Robertson smiled faintly. “There is a four-year-old girl being held hostage by your friend, Mrs. Grienke.”

She and her partner exchanged glances. Ariel shook her head. He’d always thought that the Mary Jane angle wasn’t a good one, but Ariel knew it was off with her head when all was said and done. But Robertson was taking it too far.

“As a liaison, I’ll try to mention that, Mary Jane. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Stay by the chopper.”

Ariel moved with purpose toward the trailer. She held her head high, though her fellow agents probably were highly aware that she had been dismissed. This was by no means the end of her on the Grienke/Woods case.

There was a young girl that needed to be saved, and Ariel wasn’t counting another body today—not unless that body was Jakob Woods.

There were women around the world whose minds would be slowly transitioning as they recalled where they came from. All this ‘sweep it under the rug’ bullshit was going to come back and bite us in the ass. And she’d be there to fix things. The stakeholders were going to follow her lead once she told them exactly what mistakes they’d made in brainwashing the girls again.

A million women…yes, that number was outlandish, but the truth was just as dire. And she’d given her all from the start. For Tiana Clement. For Whitley Rodgers. “I’ll be damned if I’m somebody’s fucking liaison.”

She gripped the handle of the FBI trailer and entered.