The safe house was a flurry of activity as the team prepared for their escape. Bags were zipped, weapons were loaded, and Clara's fingers flew over her keyboard as she worked to jam any surveillance signals Anderson's men might be using.
Elizabeth double-checked her bag, her mind racing. She had no idea where they were going, but the mounting tension told her this wouldn't be just another retreat. They were running out of safe places to hide, and it was only a matter of time before Anderson cornered them.
Xavier entered the room, his face a mask of determination. He moved with a quiet efficiency, barking orders when necessary but keeping his voice calm and measured. It was the Xavier she had come to admire—calculated and in control, even when the world seemed to be falling apart.
"We leave in five," he said, glancing at Elizabeth. His tone softened slightly. "You ready?"
She nodded, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "As ready as I'll ever be."
