Whispers in the storm

Claire worked swiftly, typing on multiple laptops while making encrypted calls. The room buzzed with the hum of electronics and quiet tension. Nathaniel sat beside Eleanor at a makeshift desk, spreading out the notebook's pages to strategize.

Claire turned to them, her voice sharp. "I've contacted trusted journalists and whistleblowers I know. They're on standby to receive the data, but we need time to transmit it securely."

"How much time?" Nathaniel asked.

"An hour, maybe two," she replied. "And that's if we're lucky."

Eleanor frowned, glancing at Nathaniel. "Do we have that long? They were right behind us."

"We'll make time," Nathaniel said firmly. He turned to Claire. "Do you have defenses here? Weapons? Anything?"

Claire smirked. "This isn't my first rodeo." She walked over to a cabinet and pulled it open, revealing an arsenal of weapons: rifles, handguns, and even improvised explosives.

Eleanor's stomach twisted at the sight, but she understood the necessity.

"We'll need to hold them off," Nathaniel said, grabbing a rifle and checking its ammunition. "Eleanor, you stay here and help Claire. Keep the data moving."

"No," Eleanor said, her voice steady despite her fear. "I'm not sitting back while you fight alone. Tell me what I can do."

Nathaniel hesitated, his gaze searching hers. Finally, he nodded. "Alright. Stay close to me, and don't hesitate to defend yourself if it comes to that."

With the plan in motion, the three of them worked in sync. Claire continued encrypting and uploading files, her fingers flying over the keyboard. Nathaniel and Eleanor prepared the safehouse, setting up barricades and strategic defenses.

As they worked, Eleanor couldn't shake the weight of what was about to happen. The notebook—their proof—was a lifeline for countless others. But it was also a target.

"You alright?" Nathaniel asked, noticing her distant expression.

She nodded, though her voice wavered. "I'm scared."

"Good," he said, surprising her. "Fear means you're alive. It means you care."

His words, though blunt, gave her a strange sense of comfort. She looked at him, his face hardened by years of surviving battles like this. "Why are you doing this, Nathaniel? Risking everything?"

He paused, his jaw tightening. "Because someone has to. And because I owe it to the people who didn't make it this far."

Eleanor felt a pang of sadness but didn't push further. There wasn't time for stories or regrets—not now.