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here today. I understand similar movements are happening around the continent, so I wanted to take the opportunity to come talk to not just this room, but all Road Runners watching on TV.

“First off, Commander Briar is currently on a mission. Before you ask, we cannot offer any details. Last our team heard this morning, everything is going as planned and the Commander is doing well.”

“Is it a mission to get Sonya?” someone asked.

“Like I said, we cannot give any details regarding the mission. He is our commander, and that information must remain confidential. Now, I can assure you the mission does involve potential steps to end the war with the Revolution. While we appreciate everyone’s eagerness to get things done, I need you to understand this is a process. Commander Briar has been working since day one to end this war, and the pieces have gradually been falling into place. This current mission is another step in the right direction.”

“We’re done waiting!” a man in the front shouted. “We’ll go get Chris and Sonya ourselves. We’ve had enough sitting around in fear, waiting for you all to get something done.”

This earned a raucous roar from the crowd, many fists pumping in the air to mix with the commotion of whistles and shouting. The man turned to face the crowd, his back to Uribe. “We don’t need permission, and we certainly don’t need any help. Let’s end this war ourselves. Once and for all!”

The room howled as Uribe banged the podium, but his call for attention was drowned out by the mob.

“Everybody calm down!” Uribe boomed into the mic, but he had lost all control over the room. Several of the other guards in the building had gathered around, forming a line at the rope barrier separating the visitors from Uribe.

“On my lead!” the man shouted, people parting to clear a path as he marched toward the exit.

“Cut the feed!” Uribe howled to Devin. “Cut it now!”

Devin obliged, but it was too late. Uribe wanted to prevent the rest of the continent from seeing the situation unfold.

“Oh God,” Uribe whispered to himself as the crowd filed out of the building, chanting and hollering as they marched through downtown Denver, not caring if anyone from the general public saw them. “This is bad.”

Uribe left the podium and started back for the chambers downstairs, needing to place an urgent call to the commander, but unable to because no one had yet to hear from him.

Chapter 11

When Uribe entered the chambers he found each Councilor on their cell phone, some remaining at the table, others tucked into corners of the room for added privacy. Devin walked with him, on a call of her own as reports spilled in from around the continent following the scene in Denver.

Councilwoman Dawson had remained at the table and hung up her phone. “We’re calling everyone on the mission sheet—no one’s answering. We’re about to start calling them back a second time.”

“Do we think they’re in any danger?” Uribe asked.

“We don’t have any tips that suggest they’re in trouble, but the fact that we can’t get ahold of anyone is troubling.”

“Do we have any eyes on Chris Speidel?”

“We do not, no one has seen him since the Hamilton murder.”

“Okay, keep calling, and I’m gonna see what’s happening in the rest of the world.”

Dawson wasted no time and dialed another number.

“What’s the word?” Uribe asked Devin, who had remained by his side with urgency on her face.

“It’s bad, sir. Similar marches ensued right after the one here. We’re following the progress of twenty different marches through the tracking software. I’m worried this is the end of the road for our secret. There’s no way the general public won’t inquire what’s going on.”

“You’d be surprised. There have been plenty of instances in the past like this, and people just drive by. Or they’ll check the news, see no headlines about the crowds, and just continue with their lives.”

“But never this widespread, right?”

Uribe sighed. “Correct, and that’s what worries me. They’re not going to government buildings are they? That would be the end of our secret.”

“As of now, no reports of activity near any government buildings. The crowd here is just marching down the Sixteenth Street Mall. They’re turning heads, but no one understands what’s going. We suspect the same is happening around the continent.”

“Okay, let’s keep it that way. Wherever we have the resources, create a barrier to prevent any of these groups from getting too close to government buildings or media outlets. If we can do that, we’ll be fine. Does your team have any insight regarding our commander’s whereabouts?”

“I’m afraid nothing different than you have. We see him on the tracking software and know he’s still in Chicago, and his heart is beating—same for everyone with him.”

“Has there been any movement?”

“Yes, they’ve been moving around the building, but we’re not able to really judge what any of it means. It’s a multilevel complex and our tracking software can’t decipher between different floors.”

“Okay, we’ll keep calling until someone picks up—they have to be leaving that era soon.”

Devin put up a finger as her phone rang again and answered it. Uribe took the opportunity to try Martin himself, hoping that seeing his name on the caller ID might alert him of the urgency.

“Sir, we have a problem,” Devin said, stuffing her phone back into her pocket. “I want to see for myself. Can we turn on your TV?”

She nodded at the TV hanging on the back wall the chambers, rarely used by the Council.

“Be my guest,” Uribe said, following Devin as she dashed across the room and turned on the TV. He watched as she flipped through the channels and turned up the volume, landing on a local news station.

An aerial view of the Sixteenth Street Mall showed the mob of people marching down it, chanting “The war ends tonight!” A man’s deep voice spoke over the footage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we appear to have a protest of some sort

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