The Road to Masiaka

[Jacques]

Jacques' departure from the reporters was paused by Lawrence's ballsy deal. What would come next needed to be seen, to be recorded, such that the world could not deny the reasons behind the decisions he would make in the coming days and weeks. She had some degree of a reputation to support what she would say, but as with any reporter, there was no assuring what they would write. Or what their paper would print.

"Contact my people, Mademoiselle Monday, and they shall work out an understanding with you and yours."
With that, and with Jared Wilson's not so subtle curse of having missed the opportunity left in his wake, Jacques continued on to the gate.

It didn't take much to realize what the truck drivers were going to do, and Jacques quickly waved his men back from the gate to let it happen; these were government troops after all, and this was their land, and their jurisdiction in the end. The trucks pushed through the locked gate without much effort, and the Legionnaires flanking it quickly stepped out of the way to let them pass.

The trucks lumbered into the main yard of the plant and came to a stop with the tell-tale woosh of air-brakes settling, then the tailgates where dropped and Sierra Leonean troops began piling out, their officers and sergeants barking orders and sending armed men to various places. They studiously ignored the Legionnaires, taking up residence in the small wall towers, securing the gates and searching the buildings.

The refugees were understandably frightened, but any serious confrontations were held in check by the presence of the Legionnaires and their local auxiliaries, the Masiaka'n men that had been hired to bolster the company's contracted garrison of the once-Chinese refining plant turned refugee camp. With the presence of the reporters, who were actively recording, the Sierra Leonean soldiers kept themselves in check.

Jacques waved for Jared to fall in step with him as he approached the ranking officer of the government troops, "This, I fear, is going to be unpleasant. But for the moment, we will have little choice but to go with what they say."


Another glance was spared for Natalie Grey and the Red Cross staff, and for her shadow, Jay. The man was keeping close to his charge, which was good. And her less obvious guards were on edge; the other members of Jay's squad were seeded about the area, tasked to assure that no harm came to their CCD princess. He was gambling with her life as much as he was with those of his men, and it pained him to do so. But, she was a far more valuable piece on the board. Too valuable to not be used.

"I am Monsieur Jacques Danjou, CEO of..."
Danjou approached the Sierra Leonean Captain that was in command of the platoon rushing to secure the camp, but was cut short as one of the man's underlings blocked Jacques' path.

"I know who you are. Your company's efforts thus far are appreciated, but you will cease and desist. Interim-President General Wallace-Johnson has ordered that you present yourself to him immediately, and that all your mercenary soldiers be moved to the capital."
The Captain held out a sheet of paper with official-looking government leader-head and stamps and signatures, which seemed to lend credence to the Captain's declaration.

Jacques frowned, but accepted the paper without complaint, glancing over it briefly, while the officer relayed the rest of his orders for Jacques. "You will also relocate all Red Cross staff located at this camp to the capital. The military will take over its operation, and that of all other camps deemed tenable at this time."
Which was to say, this one camp. The others were all too far removed from the government's reach at the moment.

Jacques neatly folded the piece of paper and tucked it into a pocket, "I have no jurisdiction over the Red Cross operation here. I doubt they will be willing to leave on such short notice."


"Either you take them with you, or my men remove them. They are needed in the capital at this time, to help with the recovery efforts there. It is the Interim-President General Wallace-Johnson's declaration that the country cannot be made whole until the capital is."
It was probably less an actual belief then it was a convenient lie for those involved to save face.

Jacques nodded in vague acceptance of the Captain's statement. He was a civilian, and the Captain was, for the moment at least, a government official. As such, he had no place, legally speaking, to refuse the order. The situation in Sierra Leone was a domestic one, and Jacques and his company were not exactly an internationally recognized legal authority in such matters. They simply hadn't any legal jurisdiction to force the matter.

And until the 'Interim-President' stepped out of line, they hadn't the moral authority to intervene either. "Legionnaire Vanders. Inform the Red Cross team that they will be leaving with us shortly. I do not suppose you will lend us one of your trucks to transport them? I thought not. Tell them to pack lightly, Legionnaire. And if they have any issues, they are to speak to me first."


He doubted the government troops would have much patience for Natalie's complaints. He did not expect the woman to be willing to leave the camp unless forced. "So it is official then? The General has been appointed by a legally functional Parliament?"


The Captain cast Jacques a challenging glare, "No one in the Parliament refused Interim-President General Wallace-Johnson's appointment. You should be spending your time better. The Interim-President General Wallace-Johnson does not like to be kept waiting on civilian foreigners."


Jacques smiled charmingly and nodded, seemingly glad to hear the news and even congratulating the Captain on his appointment to such an important task, protecting the civilians in the camp, then turned to leave. Jacques had little doubt that his men could make short work of the General's men, but not without casualties of their own. Casualties he could little afford. And even if they did win the battle at the refugee camp, it still left dozens of his men trapped in the city, where the good General surely had men ready to strike if anything went amiss.

The order spread quickly among his men, and he moved to speak to the appointed representatives of the refugees.

"You cannot leave us here, Mr Danjou! Many of the people here are Temne. You do not think that these soldiers will keep themselves in check after what happened in Freetown?"
Idir Kayode, the unofficial leader of the camp, was a Mende man, not much older then Jacques himself.

Jacques suspected the man was right, and wasn't so naive as to allow himself to hope otherwise. "My company's interventions so far in this conflict have been, strictly speaking, illegal, Monsieur Kayode. We must trust in your government to hold itself to a higher creed then the rebels. General...Interim-President General Wallace-Johnson is a well known figure in Sierra Leone. He must now strive to rebuild Sierra Leone before other factions make their own moves."


Idir looked at Jacques suspiciously, unsure what to make of that, but he could not force the foreigner to do more then he already had. He finished his discussions with the camp representatives in short order, turning to find the Legion Premiere vehicles already lined up with the gate, most of his men gathered there and waiting word to mount up.

They were a stark contrast to the government troops. They stood with their backs to the vehicles, weapons held at the low-ready yet seemed casual enough. In turn, the government troops wore mismatched uniforms; indications they had at one time heralded from different units, although all wore the patch of General Wallace-Johnson's former command. They watched inside the compound rather then the outside, eyeing the Legionnaires warily or the refugees with open suspicion, and for those they knew where Temne, open hatred.


Edited by Jacques, Dec 23 2014, 09:15 AM.

[Jared Vanders]

Jared fell in step with Jacques as he ordered him to. Jacques spoke to him quietly and Jared listened but didn't respond as they approached the government official ahead of them. The words just reinforced Jared's sense that something was wrong. Danjou took the entire situation into stride and Jared followed his lead.

The man handed Danjou official papers. Wallace-Johnson had won his bid for power and they were ordered to the capital along with the Red Cross workers. Jared kept a straight face, but held onto the power inside of him, feeling frustrated. This wouldn't bode well at all.

Jared responded to Jacques' order with a simple "Yes, sir."
and moved immediately to follow. He walked towards Jay, the woman by him could only be Ms. Grey. Jared approached her.

"Excuse me, Ms. Grey. I'm Leigonnaire Vanders. By the order of Interim-President General Wallace-Johnson, the Legion and Red Cross are to report back to the capital. Space is limited, so we need to travel light."
For a moment his eyes moved to Jay. Jared was unhappy with the situation and he wondered what emotions lie behind those sunglasses. His eyes moved back to Ms. Grey. "I was also told to tell you that you can bring any issues to Commander Danjou."


This could only mean bad things. The situation was getting bad. The refugees were suspicious. The clock on the time bomb was getting low. Soon it would blow.

[Natalie Grey]

She glanced at Jay. There was a bit of irritation in that look, but only because it was a stupid question. The Legion had not found her without enough exquisite details to fill in the appropriate blanks; they both knew that. He probably knew more about her than she really cared to know, though that was not to say the effort at conversation wasn't valued. At one time she had even found that kind of pretend ignorance endearing, to be treated as a nuanced person despite the lines in a thousand tabloids. Aaron had soured the inclination to trust that illusion though, so her retort was playful vicious.

"You figure that one out all by yourself?"
The sarcasm bit hard. She left him hanging a good few moments before she replied with a little less acid, though the crook of a smirk remained. "I've been here six months or so, I suppose. We were working to offer girls scholarships, encourage the families to allow more to enter education. Azu's father was a child soldier. The effort means a great deal to him."
Of her own attachments she said nothing; her dreams, hopes and aspirations for the career she had chosen -- if indeed she had any -- locked away tight from her expression. The way she spoke, she was not involved at all besides as a peripheral observer.

They were almost in the welcome shade of the building when the legionnaire - Vanders - hastened to interrupt. Natalie's pale eyes hovered on his expression, the curt tension square in his jaw, the frustration locked fierce behind the formality. The instruction was delivered professionally despite the obvious anger at their situation. He assumed her compliance. Mistake. "Interim-President General Wallace-Johnson holds no jurisdiction over the Red Cross. Nor does the Legion, for that matter."
The steel in her gaze was uncompromising, the words uttered with a casual conviction that utterly dismissed the order. She had warned Danjou, after all, that she played the game her own way. If he knew anything of her past, she suspected he'd expect nothing less of her reaction anyway.

Natalie continued into the cooler air of the make-shift offices without waiting for an answer, unwilling to linger in case either he or Jay thought it wise to try and force her back. She was grateful for the Legion's aid, and aware they were -- presumably -- still contracted to ensure her safety, but she was not so easily swayed from the set of her own stubborn path.

Inside, the children were helping to sort supplies brought in by the legion's trucks, and a quick head count tallied all but Ayo. Azu was also somewhere outside, but had hopefully tucked himself away somewhere safe. She didn't have the spare thoughts to worry about a grown man, but the variables beyond her control still sharpened the adrenaline singing through her veins. Tension thickened the air inside, already oppressive with heat. Even the children's eyes were wide and frightened by the new soldiers who had already begun rooting through the camp. Outside it was eerie quiet but for the shouts of orders.

Laurene was the first to stiffen at their entrance, then marginally relax when she saw who it was.

"The 'government' is here. Wallace-Johnson wants us out."


The woman's lips drew a thin line at the ingracious way she said it, but didn't speak the reprimand she obviously thought to herself. Here, so many miles from the civility of home, they were not safe in the arms of the Custody. Words were dangerous. Slander, doubt; brutal as knives. Natalie's instincts naturally fought the squeeze of Wallace-Johnson's fist; had it only been her own life in the gamble, she would not be taking this so easily.

"He has no right."


A grim smile offered agreement; they both knew that executions would follow in the wake of their departure. The people here, injured or able-bodied, were not partaking of the hostilities. They were protected. Forcing the Red Cross out; it was a serious breach. But Natalie had no intention of ordering her colleagues to make a stand, nor even to encourage them to such foolishness. The lives weighted no different on either hand; she would not choose.

"Be ready to leave if we must. But we will not make it easy."
To that the woman only nodded, expression tight, and moved to inform the others. Sombre expressions met the the news. Fear. Dogged determination. But little surprise. Natalie's attention returned momentarily to Vanders, considering. He had not looked easy with the instructions he had delivered; he would be even less enthused of the return message. "The Red Cross feels it is needed here. You can report that to whoever you feel is necessary."


When it became apparent what was happening, some of the youngest children began to cry in alarm. The solace offered by the few Red Cross workers was bleak, to these children they had planned to offer so much, but in the end left bereft. Tears blurred many eyes, both young and old, and much anger ignited against the tension, but their time was almost up. There was not much to take, but plenty to organise in order to plug the hole the Red Cross would leave. Every second was precious. They could pretend it was contingency, but the veil that shielded reality was not so thick.

One of the older boys approached. Tears patched his cheeks through the dirt and dust, but his eyes were dry. "You're leaving us."


"Mr. Timbo will take care of you now,"
she told him, tone gentle but firm; maybe he'd find reassurance in her certainty. Abeni had been one of the faster learners; letters came easy to him, lit his eyes with accomplishment when he strung together sentences. She did not like to think that fingers she had taught to write words might come to wield a more brutal weapon. Azu's father had been younger when the civil war had claimed him. "Stay out of the way of the soldiers. Keep your manners. Look after each other."
Her hand reached out in what might have been mistaken as comfort, but it was only to press him back towards the others.

Unlike her colleagues, Natalie refused to involve herself in the goodbye. The shrill cries of abandonment were enough to shred any soul to tatters. But what else was she supposed to do? She fought the battle, knowing they would lose. Acknowledging the ways it hurt would only unravel her, so she watched the haste dispassionately, arms folded, her back pressed against the wall. The power was flittering at the edges of her consciousness, but darting maddeningly in and out of control. She didn't know what she'd be able to do with it anyway. Memories of char and ash, bodies tossed like dolls, limbs askew, darkened the front of her mind. It wasn't a weapon she trusted even if she knew how to control it. The knowledge didn't do much to alleviate her impotence.

She looked to Jay then.

The flat of her stare was a direct challenge, but framed by a question. It was clear she did not intend to leave of her own volition. Jacques had set a world stage; whatever happened here and now, the media links filtered it out to a wider audience. To coerce a little brutality was necessary, the germ of a story to turn heads away from the conflict in the Middle East. Sensationalists like Wilson had their uses, she supposed. Jay might understand that, he might not. She imagined he'd do his duty regardless.

Staring at the blank visor of his sunglasses, she recalled the way he'd forced weight onto a limp leg to press his body between her and a sea of bullets. A job. Not a kindness. But she also remembered a kitten plucked from debris, cradled in strong arms. Morphine made him soft. He was a good man. But he was also Danjou's man, and she was under no illusions where his loyalties lie. Natalie was a contract; a profitable one, currently under his responsibility. And she wasn't budging.

[Jay Carpenter]

The joke dulled the sting of her glare, but only encouraged him to try harder. "Smarter than the average bear, aren't I?"
She explained further about her job, details he appreciated. Her file described facts like a bullet-point list not an actual story. Violence, child-soldiers, poverty, illiteracy - Jay knew all about those things. They exemplified the kinds of countries he'd been deployed to dozens of times. But he was always careful to not assign a face, especially an innocent one, to those stories. The one and only time he did ended up getting him discharged from the marines.

Vanders and he exchanged nods. They already knew each other, of course. There were barely more than a dozen Legionnaires' present altogether. The emphasis Vanders put on the General's new title wasn't lost on Jay. Though he wondered if the sarcasm was Vanders' own or if it was adopted from Jacques' opinion of the situation. Jay didn't like the order, but his nod was compliance anyway. He'd chosen to put his trust in Jacques when he signed his employment contracts. Once pen was to paper, there was no doubting that loyalty now.

"Glad to know the country has a president again,"
he said, tone flat as Natalie's gaze. The other Red Cross workers didn't like the notion of abandoning the refugees. Cries filled his ears, but Jay couldn't look away. Children huddled around Natalie's legs, and Jay stepped away from her space to allow them the chance to cling to her and to avoid any latching onto him by accident. He wasn't sure what he'd do otherwise, but a crack fractured his heart when Natalie looked at him like she was silently begging for help.

Indoors, he finally pulled the aviators from his face and revealed eyes crimped with that inner-ache. "There's nothing I can do..."
he mouthed. He felt powerless. Like failing to hold back blood with the palms of his hands alone.

He swept his gaze around them once more, and took a quick head-count. "The General's troops don't know how many of you there are. But they'll begin searching any minute. If there's anything you want to leave behind, now's the time to hide it. They want free access to this refinery, and will likely cut down anyone standing in their way, especially if they are Temne."

[Lawrence Monday]

Lawrence hid a triumphant smirk as Jacques turned away. Within moments she had a contract pulled on her Wallet and strode toward Zanders. "Good news. Get this ready and send it to Danjou's people."
An Exclusive was the kind of paperwork Lawrence kept at the ready.

She was digging an ear-piece out of her pocket when Wilson, arms crossed, tapped her on the arm, ready to curse her out, but Laurie cut him off. "Better luck next time, Wilson. Here's a piece of advice, when you want an exclusive, don't sit there and bat your eyelashes hoping. Have the balls to ask."
Ear piece secured, she pat him encouragingly on the arm, but her smirk did little to soften the gloating.

Sierra Leoneon soldiers piled out of the trucks, and Lawrence busied herself shooting video until an officer in charge approached Jacques. Their conversation was private, but that was why she was wearing the ear piece. A swipe of the finger on the Wallet control, and the audio was turned up. She listened carefully.

The orders spelled bad news for the locals. Lawrence knew what would happen as soon as they were left alone. Zanders leaned in and whispered an update with the contract. It was all ready on both their sides, Jacques signature was the last to be collected. "Great work Zanders,"
Lawrence said. "Now go run and find Miss Gray. Find out what the Red Cross's statement is about this order. They have to obey domestic laws. Whether or not Natalie Northbrook agrees, we'll find out."
Laurie watched him hurry off in the direction the girl and her entourage went.

In the meantime, she started filming. That she had been noticed by Wallace's soldiers did not escape her attention. Which meant it was a good time to check tha her feed was uploading and that the rest of her Wallet was identity-secured before resuming; it wouldn't be the first time her stuff was confiscated. Hopefully Jacques kept her out of jail if things went south.

[Jared Vanders]

Jared responded with a nod to Ms. Grey's reaction. He understood, although he wished she wouldn't shoot the messenger. Jared wished he could change the whole situation but he couldn't. Jared watched as Natalie walked away, Jay at her heels.Jared remained there wondering whether or not to inform Jacques of her response. He guessed he shouldn't have been surprised; in many ways he felt the same.

Jared turned around and headed back towards Jacques, passing by Monday's assistant as he did. Jared looked around and found the reporter recording the scene. He wondered what she would say about the situation in her reports and made a mental note to look it up when he got the chance, despite the fact that he would probably be misquoted.

He worked his way through the throng of refugees taking in the situation as always. He still felt as if this is where everything was going to go to hell. He made his way back to Jacques and stood beside him. Jared had to trust him, and he would.

Jared waited until Jacques had a moment before speaking - keeping his voice low. "Ms. Grey isn't terribly excited about the Red Cross leaving. She feels it is needed here."
Jared frowned, many questions burning in his head. What next? Would they be allowed to stay? If the Interim-President kicked them out, what would they do next? The decision wasn't his, but he couldn't help but think of the questions. He would have to continue to trust.

[Jacques]

Lt Aaron Kamenashi entered the Red Cross office out of uniform and with a few of the Sierra Leonean auxiliaries at his back. He and the five men with him were all dressed in common civilian clothes and carried backpacks and rifles that were, for the moment, slung. The officer's expression was serious and just a bit harried; they hadn't much time to work with, after all.

"The Legionnaire is correct. I am taking the children for a nature walk. Three hours ago, understood?"
He and the men with him moved into the room without really stopping to waste time on explanations, instead moving to try and round up the children towards the fire exit that would lead them to the rear of the small refinery, where the government troops hadn't bothered watching. They had swept the area on their initial arrival and moved on as there hadn't been any refugees there.

-----

The government troops made no move to interfere with the Legionnaires, but the dozen-and-some hired auxiliaries still in sight were unceremoniously disarmed. The soldiers weren't exactly aggressive about it, not under the eye of the reporters, but there was little room for negotiation to be had. Their weapons were collected, but as the government troops moved to toss those rifles in their trucks, Jacques did what the magazines thought he did best. Take the spotlight.

He intercepted the government troops while leading the camp elders towards their commanding. And in so doing, also drew in the attention of the group that was headed towards the Red Cross offices where Natalie and the children were. He spoke with the group for a few long minutes, and by the end of the conversation the confiscated weapons were being carried to the Legion vehicles instead of the army's.

He turned slightly to look at Jared and offered a tired smile. "I expected nothing less of her."
He would, of course, use it to his advantage. Her stubbornness would help distract from his men trying to sneak off with the children.

Lt Folami, the government forces officer, approached Jacques upon realizing that he had started directing the soldiers away from the Red Cross offices. He had two armed men at his back, while Jacques stood only with Jared at his side, although there could be no construing Jacques' posture as worried.

"Mr Danjou. If I find you telling my troops what to do again, your time in the spotlight will not protect you."
The Lt delivered his warning with a hand on his hip-holstered pistol, but Jacques merely nodded in understanding.

Jacques turned to Jared, nodding to the man, "I shall go collect them myself, Lieutenant. I was just assuring that my property was not misplaced. I am sure you do not wish to do the paperwork to explain my rifles in the backs of your trucks, yes? Now, these men are the representatives of the gathered refugees and would like to offer you their full cooperation in this change of administration. I thought that hearing assurances from yourself that your men will be able to provide the medical and social assistance the Red Cross staff have been giving them. Or that they will be relocated to the capital at the earliest convenience, of course."
Then, rather then waiting for the man to answer, Jacques turned and started walking, slowly, towards the Red Cross offices

The representatives took Jacques lead and started questioning Lt Folami, and with the officer's waved permission, he continued towards the Red Cross offices.

Other government troops closed on the reporters finally. Adisa Jackson, the Sierra Leonean freelancer was quick to shut down his camera and submit to the military's search. He was on thin ice to begin with, being that he wasn't a foreigner and thus had no foreign parties backing him if he were arrested. They could take him and lock him away for years and no one outside his family would likely ever realize.

Jared Wilson, for all his brunt approach to interviews, had been around enough to know when not to cause too much trouble. He questioned the men that approached him, but rather then making foolish demands he cooperated, for the most part.

Two soldiers approached Monday, both carrying their rifles with a casual arrogance. Legion Premiere was known throughout Africa as an organization that did not sit idly by or simply roll over, but they had given in to Interim-President General Wallace-Johnson's orders without a struggle. That misinterpretation of the situation had given the men a false sense of security, which meant they didn't waste time with her apparent assistant. Yet.

"Put away your camera and get in your vehicle."
There was no question, no request. It was a statement of what she was going to do, as far as they cared, and was seemingly not open to interpretation. "Interim-President General Wallace-Johnson has ordered that all foreigners are to make their way to the capital. Any with no business here will be deported."
From their tone, they likely felt that she had no business in their country. Every reporter they got rid of would make their General's goals easier to achieve.

[Lawrence Monday]

The internet signal out here was terrible. The connection, although satellite, kept going out and every time it did, Lawrence swat the device until it worked again. For crying out loud, she knew she should have bought that upgraded package, but that salesman had slime written all over him. She figured he was just another goon out to make a commission. Guess he was right.

Despite the difficulties, she was gathering great footage. At one point she'd gone up to a large warning sign written in Chinese, taped it, then superimposed the English translation over the letters and panned around to reveal a disturbing lack of chinese workers. "The site where I now stand is owned by Chinese companies and protected by Chinese security. Law states their military cannot maintain presence on foreign soil, therefore their military was restricted to the embassy in Freetown, but as they have pulled from Sierra Leone completely, it seems their property is up for grabs. This refinery processes a valuable and rare metal. I find it surprising the Chinese would abandon their 'gold-mine.' It makes sense that Wallace-Johnson wants control, but what here holds Jacques Danjou's interest? It has to be more than mere refugees. This is Lawrence Monday, reporting from the hot zone in Sierra Leone. MondayMargin.net"



Two soldiers were coming her way with a certain 'look in their eye.' Quickly, she typed in the password, processed her thumb print, and snapped a picture of one iris to get the story and video published online before they confiscated her stuff.

She eyed the number of chevrons on their arm and the patches of their brigade. "Hello, sirs. Put it away? Sure. I can do that."
She smiled far too compliant than they expected. Both men exchanged looks like they were disappointed.

True to her word, Lawrence powered off the wallet. It was configured for broadcast grade technologies featuring a greater-than HD camera, state of the art resolution, and real time cloud backup. One thing she made sure to purchase, however, was the remote lens embedded in her sunglasses.

Sighing, she shaded her eyes and peered across the grounds. "I'm actually with Mister Danjou. So I'll get in the vehicle when he gets in the vehicle. Boy its sunny out here." She smiled her signature grin and plucked a pair of aviators from where they hung on her shirt.

She turned to walk away, confidence high that they would leave her alone simply for having been compliant and sure of herself. Instead, one of them clamped down on her arm and tugged her a few steps out of her path.
"In the car, American."

She pushed the glasses higher on her face, subtly pressing a hidden button behind the bridge. There was always a time to stand your ground and there was a time to obey. Lawrence knew the difference, but a stubborn streak spiked stronger than common sense. She yanked back her throbbing arm, but refused to wince. Why did men like them always think grabbing a woman by the arm was the best way to control her?

"Alright, cool your jets. I'll go to the car."


That seemed to please them, so she sauntered toward the indicated vehicle. But rather than climbing in, she leaned against the outside, arms crossed and observant. She was betting the farm on Danjou. Either he wasn't going to let this business go on much longer, or he had a plan for Freetown. Whatever it was, so long as she stuck by him, she was going to be safe.

And Zanders was still out there, somewhere.

[Natalie Grey]

There's nothing I can do...

The look in his eyes when he mouthed the words was a mirror, and she turned her gaze aside with a blink. It stung. Frustration simmered beneath the marble of her expression. The enclosing walls of the cage incited a need to push back; that need to fight off the impossible. It rose up in her chest, making each breathe short. Because there had to be something.

Lt. Kamenashi interrupted her thought processes. She watched him and his men herd the children with a flicker of surprise quickly suffocated. The sudden reprieve relieved much of the tension built up in her colleagues, diffusing the need to rebel. They settled quickly to the compromise, knowing their charges would be safe -- Laurene shot her a brief, grateful glance before she began to soothe the frightened children into accepting their impromptu guardians. But, selfish or not, it was not just about the safety of the children for Natalie. Her arms remained curled tight against her chest. Jacques played the game yet coaxed the best result he could. But it still felt like running away.

"There's one missing."
Which was true, but not entirely why she moved away from the wall. Her thoughts sunk insular. Kamenashi needed time, and Jacques was taking a risk with the whole stunt in the first place. Not to mention there were not enough trucks to see the Red Cross workers and their charges safely back to Freetown. Begrudging gratitude saw her willing to play her part to prolong the distraction, though she detested being tangled in the knots of others' games. If Jay had ever intended to enforce Danjou's decree that she was simply not allowed to risk herself in this camp, he lost his chance now. She moved at a pace unkind to his injuries, in pure intent of appearing defiant.

There was a man hovering who she assumed was among the reporters; a foolish one, if he wasn't already back to his own car already, but Natalie's flat glare pushed away any attempts at being addressed. She kept an eye on her surroundings as she walked back out of the makeshift offices, but only in search of Azu. Or Ayo. The girl was Mende. If worse came to worst, she would be safe enough in Azubuike's care, so long as the man kept his head down.

It was towards Danjou she walked. An obvious frown furrowed her brow, not entirely feigned. Pale eyes searched his expression for any insight into the machinations within. If he required a distraction, she would provide one. Her peripheral caught the flash of guns, the casual arrogance of their wielders; she realised for the first time just how out-manned they were should things turn sour. "The Red Cross has a duty to these people. On what grounds are we being forced out?"

[Jay Carpenter]

Natalie shoved from the wall and briskly left the room. The whirlwind of her departure left him stunned. But only a brief moment. In place of surprise rose the pang of betrayal. Like she took it personally that he was doing his fucking job. The hell did she expect him to do? Barricade the door and hold off half a platoon of the national army with a single rifle and a beastly stand against injustice? Damn woman!

He crossed to the window, splaying apart the blinds with his fingers. His other hand went to his radio, ready to warn his teammates that she was in the open unprotected. He paused, finger on the button, when he watched her go to the group surrounding Danjou. That familiar sting clenched his gut and he turned away, frowning and pensive.


Edited by Jay Carpenter, Jan 17 2015, 05:27 PM.