Digital Silence

The days after the hangar infiltration passed painfully slowly. They were in a holding pattern while they awaited the planned meeting between the fixer and Vance's chief of security and the planted recording device to get the much-needed proof. Nerves already strained by continual danger and deceit were strained further by the enforced inactivity. An ongoing companion was paranoia. Anya found herself analyzing every look Marcus gave her, reading every procedural query as a sign of distrust. Restricted primarily to his backup safe home, Rhys sensed the walls closing in, Jax's mistrust evident even when it was not expressed, and the quiet heightening the ever-present danger of being discovered.

Once a lifeline, their secure communications became strained. The tentative warmth that had started to flare between them was removed from conversations, which became clipped and merely operational. There was an undercurrent of anxiety and animosity since the near-disaster at the hangar had brought their basic differences into stark perspective. With his attention on the goal, Rhys appeared to downplay the dangers Anya had undertaken. Anya, who was well aware of the freedom and career she was risking, believed Rhys was failing to completely recognize the precipice she was standing on for his sake.

A heated argument about their encrypted channel was the tipping point. Unwilling to place all the hope on the recording device, Rhys suggested a backup plan because he was tired of waiting.

[Rhys]: It's dangerous to record. Device located; meeting could be rescheduled. Plan B is required. 'Silas' is an information broker I have a contact with. He is well-known in the corporate security community. may contain recordings or information about Vance's fixer.

Anya's blood froze. In addition to being a notorious opportunist who sold off clients, manipulated information, and left mayhem in his wake, Silas was also a notorious information broker. It was like playing with fire to deal with him.

[Anya]: Are you Silas? Not at all, Rhys. He is hazardous and totally unreliable. For the right money, he will sell you or us out to Vance or the police.

[Rhys]: He is an unavoidable evil. Boy Scout badges don't rule my world; calculated risks do. When used properly, silas produces results. I can control him.

[Anya]: Deal with him? As though you "managed" the hangar? We nearly got caught! I nearly got caught! You're acting carelessly by just considering how to clear your name rather than the repercussions for everyone else—especially me!

For much too long, the accusation lingered in the digital silence.

[Rhys]: Careless? It's lies that have me hounded like an animal! Do you really believe that I like depending on anyone, much less someone like Silas? Or... or you? Anya, this isn't a game! Vance is removing evidence and burying bodies while you are preoccupied with protocol and "trustworthiness." The luxury of moral purity is not available to us here!

His remarks, which dismissed the enormous risks she was taking as merely procedural worry, wounded and struck right at her inner turmoil.

[Anya]: Extravagance? Do I have a luxury career? My liberty? Do you consider it a luxury that I'm committing crimes that could put me behind bars for decades? I see the machine you're battling from the inside, Rhys, therefore I probably know the stakes better than you do! However, lines must exist! It is desperate and foolish to use someone like Silas and risk publicity for ambiguous information!

[Rhys]: Desperate circumstances call for desperate actions! Officer, that's the reality you still don't understand. There are review boards, internal affairs, and safety nets in your environment. Mine has knives and darkness. Silas is a tool. Use the resources at your disposal, or perish.

This was the main issue, the basic miscommunication that resulted from their disparate worldview. Her caution struck him as naivete, a persistent devotion to a system that was flawed. His readiness to interact with people like Silas, in her opinion, was evidence of the amorality of the underground and suggested that he might not be all that dissimilar from the criminals she typically hunted down. It felt like a breach of the shaky trust they had developed when he dismissed her risks.

[Anya]: Perhaps that world of knives and shadows is where you belong. Perhaps I was mistaken to believe you were unique.

Driven by hurt and anxiety, the words were typed before she could stop them. She regretted them as soon as they were sent, but the harm had already been done.

Rhys felt a chill tighten in his chest as he read her message. Jax's suspicions and his own deep-seated concerns of losing himself in this battle were echoed by her remarks, which struck a chord. He was briefly enraged at her, the circumstance, and his own unwelcome reliance.

[Rhys]: Perhaps you were. Perhaps you should continue submitting reports and waiting for the "system" to catch up. The actual world is a reality for some of us.

The silence in Anya's flat became deafening when he abruptly disconnected the connection, leaving her looking at the blank screen. Her eyes filled with tears of fear and frustration. Had she just ruined the only chance they had? Was he correct? Was she gullible? The disagreement had revealed the deep rifts of mistrust and misunderstanding brought about by the secrets they had to hide, even from one another, as well as the raw nerves that lay underlying their union.

With grim delight, Rhys tossed his communication gadget across the room and heard it clatter against the wall. Relying on someone who essentially didn't know the rules of his game and whose anxiety may jeopardize everything made him feel dangerously vulnerable. Jax might have been correct. Perhaps Anya was a vulnerability, an emotional burden he couldn't bear. His mind kept returning to her previous message, the hurt and accusation evident even in the encrypted text, but he pushed himself to return to the monitors and concentrate on backup plans that did not involve her.