It had been hours since Emily's blow up in Director Shaw's office, but Chase couldn't stop thinking about it.

On one hand, he was angry with her for not only jeopardizing the integrity of their entire group but also risking her own freedom. Who knows what Crane would have decided to do with her had he discovered her snooping around his penthouse?

At the same time, he couldn't help but admire her determination. She saw an opportunity to help the team and she took it. It was reckless and naïve and irresponsible. But she had been right about one thing; at least she was doing something.

For the past few days, he hadn't been doing much of anything. He was just going through the motions. Everything had slowly fallen into a mundane routine; boring and tedious. There wasn't anything to do. The Primes who attacked Crane's rally were nowhere to be found and there were no other missions for them to go on.

They had no other option but to sulk around The Acropolis.

Whenever Chase closed his eyes at night, he saw Holly's face. He saw her bright eyes and her warm smile. He saw her gravestone. He saw her still body in the hospital when he and Director Shaw went to confirm the body.

The images never went away. As a result, he rarely got any sleep. Even with Stella staying over most nights, he couldn't get the pictures out his head.

Emily was right. They needed to be doing something. Anything. Holly wouldn't want them to be sitting on their hands, waiting for something bad to happen. They had to grab their situation by the scruff of the neck and take it head-on.

Crane needed to be taken down, and they needed to be the ones to do it.

He glanced down at Stella, who was asleep beside him. The moonlight outside shone against her bronze skin, the shimmering, silvery light making her look like an ethereal angel. Her nostrils flared cutely as she breathed. Her silky hair framed her face with a few loose strands falling into her closed eyes.

There was no way she would go for it. She had made her stance on the entire ordeal clear.

While he respected her opinion, he couldn't shake the feeling that her judgment of Crane was off. And she was usually a great judge of character. But the senator was a clever man. He was a manipulator. People only saw what he wanted them to see.

But not Chase. He saw right through his act. And he was going to punch a hole right through it.

And he knew just how he was going to do it.

He just needed to see someone about his plan first.

With a small smile on his lips, he planted a soft kiss on Stella's forehead before quietly climbing out of bed. He slipped into a pair of sweatpants and tugged a hoodie on over his bare chest. After grabbing his navy-blue Atlas cap from a nearby chair, he exited the room and carefully pulled the door closed behind him.

#

Chase managed to catch Director Shaw just before he was about to leave The Acropolis. It was perfect timing too, as he wasn't if he could go on with his plan without consulting the man first. Unlike Emily, he had enough respect to ask for consent before doing something that could get them all in hot water.

Director Shaw had been halfway through the hangar, making his way to a black Audi parked near the huge, metal walls shielding the rest of the compound from the massive waterfall outside. The sound of the water crashing down onto the rocks below could faintly be heard through the thick barriers.

Apart from a few custodians and security guards working the night shift, no one was in the hangar. Most of the Atlas agents had either gone home or returned to their dorms within the compound.

As Chase spotted Director Shaw about to get into his car, he called out to him and waved his arms around like an airport traffic conductor. The man paused just as he was about to climb into the driver's seat. His eyebrows were raised in confusion, a slightly amused expression present on his weathered face.

"Chase?" He closed the car's door and started walking toward the blond. "What're you doing here? You should be sleep."

"Yeah, I don't really do much of that these days."

"Understandable." He lifted his chin slightly, his blue eyes narrowed. "You didn't answer my question."

"Right," Chase said. "Er, I kind of had something to ask you. I know it's late and all, but it's kind of important."

Director Shaw nodded slowly. "Alright, then." He gestured at the car behind him. "Mind taking a ride with me?"

Chase blinked. He hadn't planned on leaving The Acropolis. He wasn't exactly dressed for the weather outside. Oregon's climate was a killer during the fall season. But he needed to talk to the man.

He supposed he could just stay in the car.

"Yeah...yeah, alright." He jogged over to the passenger's side and got in. Ahead of them, the hangar's doors began sliding apart. The noise filled the massive space, mixing with the sound of thousands of gallons of water rushing downward. As Director Shaw drove them out The Acropolis, the waterfall stopped—likely due to some mechanism built above them.

They drove down the dirt and gravel path leading out from the compound. Soon, they were cruising down a road framed by Grand Fir trees. Chase drummed his fingers against the door beside him as he took in the scenery flashing past him.

The mountain range The Acropolis was nestled between was beautiful at this time of night. In the distance, stark white blankets of snow topped the peaks. Trees from the snow, jutting into the sky like daggers. The occasional bird would take to the clouds, flying silently through the night.

Chase glanced at Director Shaw, who was steering the car with one hand. His other rested outside the rolled-down window. Air rushed in through the opening, carrying with it the scent of pine needles and sweet flowers.

"Where're we headed?" Chase asked.

"Nowhere in particular," the man replied nonchalantly. "Just wanted to take a drive."

He immediately felt like a jackass. This whole time, he had never stopped to think about what he was going through. Atlas had been under fire by the media for months now and he was the face of the company—meaning he took the brunt of the criticism. While Chase and the others were out being superheroes, he was back in his office doing the grunt work. He prepared their missions, made sure everything was running smoothly, and even checked out on them occasionally.

Director Shaw might not have had any powers, but he was the real superhero.

Chase figured when Christmas came around, he would get the man a mug that read "Best Second Dad".

"So," the man said. His fingers tapped the steering wheel. "What did you want to talk to me about? I'm assuming it's urgent if it couldn't wait for the morning."

He massaged the back of his neck. "I was thinking about what Emily did and what she was saying. I don't condone her actions, but I think she was right. We need to do something about Crane."

"There isn't much we can do, Chase." Director Shaw turned onto a road that winded around a cliffside bordering the Pacific Ocean. The dark ocean stared back at Chase as they passed by it. The sky reflected off its wavy surface, the silver moon resembling a large quarter in the middle of the sea. "Senator Crane knew what he was doing when he started this thing. We can't go after him without any proof."

He tilted his head at the man. "So, you do believe Emily."

"I think her theory is possible," Director Shaw corrected. "But even if I did believe her, that wouldn't be enough. If we wanted to take Senator Crane down, we would need concrete evidence. And that is something we just don't have."

"But what if we did?"

He side-eyed the boy. His forehead creased and his mouth flattened into a thin line.

"Just...let me explain," Chase continued. "What if I could meet with him and trick him into revealing what he's done. That way, it won't be illegal. If we could get a confession out of him, we might be able to ruin his reputation."

Instead of replying, Director Shaw drove them into the shoulder of the road. He parked the car with them facing the never-ending ocean.

"It won't work."

"But what if it does?"

Director Shaw's lips puckered as he stared ahead. Chase watched him closely, his own heart beating rapidly inside his chest. A thick, uncomfortable silence fell in between them as they listened to the sounds of angry waves crashing against the craggy rocks below them.

"We've got to do something, Mr. Shaw. We'll lose everything if we don't."

The man paused. He then removed his glasses, folded them, and tucked them into the pocket of his jacket. Without a word, he left the car and walked over to the edge of the cliff overlooking the water.

Frowning, Chase reluctantly exited the vehicle and went after him.

The two of them stood side by side, their faces pointing toward the ocean. No words were exchanged. Just silence.

"I've already lost everything," Director Shaw suddenly said. "My wife, my son, my best friend."

Chase tilted his head at him. "Kane was your best friend? I thought you two were just business partners."

"We knew each other for years. We eventually got close. I even made him Victor's godfather." He slid a hand down his bare face, sighing. "I regret what happened between us every day."

Chase's lips pursed at the mention of Victor. His own secret search for Victor had been a bust. Ever since that day in New Mexico, when he slipped out of their grasp, nothing had been heard from him. No security footage, no news reports, no online videos. Nothing. For all he knew, Victor could've been dead or locked in a cell somewhere. There was no way to tell.

But, for Pearce Shaw's sake, he wanted to find the answer—along with the answers to his own questions.

"You still have your daughter," Chase pointed out.

He chuckled. "Victoria and I don't have the best of relationships if you couldn't tell. I'm fairly certain she hates me, and I don't blame her. I wasn't a very good father."

Chase said nothing. In a way, he could relate to what Victoria and Victor must have gone through as children. Their father was the CEO of a major private military company. He probably would leave them at home for days on end while attending business meetings. They grew up around soldiers and mercenaries and people who killed for a living.

But Director Shaw wasn't a bad man. Was he flawed? Yes, but everyone was. The important thing was that he was trying.

Besides, the man hadn't lost everything. Not yet. He still had something to fight for.

They all did.

"Victoria doesn't hate you," Chase told him.

He nodded. "I hope you're right." He turned to the boy. "Alright. Alright, I'll let you do this."

Chase's eyes lit up as he faced him. "Really?"

"You were right. We need to do something about Crane. And if this is how we can get information on him, I'm willing to take the risk."

"I won't let you down, sir."

Director Shaw smiled, the wrinkles on his face growing more prominent than before. "When have you ever?"

#

After Chase's midnight drive with Director Shaw, the man called Senator Crane to set up a meeting. Surprisingly, he had accepted. Chase had been expecting some reluctance on the senator's part, but he seemed all for it.

Something in the base of his stomach told him to be wary. There was no doubt Crane had something under his sleeve.

Chase was well aware that he could have a temper at times. If the senator was planning on exploiting that somehow, then he would make sure to keep it checked. His mission was to get Crane to admit to his shady practices; he just needed to keep his eyes on the prize.

If he managed to obtain even just a sliver of incriminating evidence, it might have been enough to dismantle Crane's entire political campaign.

One way or another, the senator was going down.

You've got this, Chase told himself while washing his face in his bathroom. As he grabbed a towel, he heard Stella waking up in the bedroom behind him. He tensed. A slight cracking noise pierced his ears. Looking down, he realized he had nearly crushed the sink's glass bowl. Jagged lines ran through it like strikes of lightning.

Shit.

"Good morning," his girlfriend grumbled, still half-asleep. Out the corner of his eye, he could see her rubbing her eyes. "What're you doing up so early?"

He kept his gaze on the cold water gushing out of the faucet. "I've...I've got an errand to run for Director Shaw. I won't be gone long."

"An errand?" She strutted over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, her chin resting on his shoulder. "Why has he got you doing it? I'm sure he could've just sent someone else to do it. You're a superhero, Chase, not an assistant."

She had made a good point. Why would Director Shaw have sent him of all people to run an errand? It didn't make sense.

This is why I don't lie, he told himself.

He racked his brain for another lie. "He wanted me to do it. He said it was personal or something." Exhaling quietly, he slung his towel over his shoulder and slinked away from her. He then made his way over to his closet and searched for an outfit.

Normally, he didn't care what he wore. In fact, his wardrobe mainly consisted of athletic wear, Atlas gear, and the occasional sports jersey. But he needed to occupy himself with something. He couldn't bear to look at Stella—especially when he was lying to her face.

The didn't like to lie. He despised it even. He recalled all the times his father would tell him he wouldn't be gone long during his deployments; they were always long. He remembered all the times his mother told him they wouldn't be moving long. But, without fail, all their belongings ended up in moving boxes just a few weeks later.

He hated lying and liars.

But he had to lie to Stella. He knew she wouldn't approve of his scheme to expose Senator Crane. That's why he couldn't tell her; if he did, there was no way she would let him go through with it.

This was what was needed. Crane needed to be stopped, and this was their only sure-fire way of getting some dirt on him. And if she was going to stand in the way of that, then he would just have to keep her in the dark—for now at least. If Emily's theory about the man was indeed correct, she would soon see what kind of person he truly was.

God, I hope Emily is right.

"Well, what's the errand?" Stella followed him into the closet, a hopeful smile on her lips. "Maybe I could come with you? I've been meaning to get out of here for a bit—"

"Sorry," he interrupted through gritted teeth. He squeezed his eyes shut, his back still facing her. "I...I've got to go alone. Captain's orders, you know?" After ripping a long-sleeve Atlas t-shirt off its hanger, and breaking the hanger in the process, he gently brushed past the girl on his way back to the bathroom.

"Uh...okay." Stella arched a thin eyebrow at her. "Is...is everything alright? It seems like you're avoiding me. Did I do something wrong?" She rubbed the side of her arm, her bottom lip poking out a bit. "Is it about yesterday with Emily? I didn't mean to be so harsh on her. It's just that she needs to understand that we just can't do whatever we want. Especially not while we're under a microscope by the media."

Chase nodded, not really listening. "Everything's fine." He pulled on his shirt. "I've just got to get going. Don't wanna be late, you know?" He walked out of the bathroom and over to the front door where he left his running shoes. After pulling them on, he reached for the door's handle.

"Oh, alright." Stella remained by their bed, her brows drawn together in confusion. Hurt flashed in her bright eyes. Her shoulders were slumped slightly as she stared at him. "No kiss goodbye?"

He cursed under his breath.

How could I forget?

If he was trying not to tip her off, he was doing a horrible job.

Faking a smile, he walked up to her and planted a kiss on the check. He felt a piece of his heart chip away as he did so.

He hated lying. He hated seeing the bright light in her irises vanish, only to be replaced by dark sadness. He hated the confused look she was giving him.

But he couldn't tell her. He just couldn't.

Stella smiled back at him and nodded. "Okay, okay." She waved him off. "Go ahead and do what you've got to do. I'll be here when you get back. Have fun. Don't get into any trouble without me."

"I will," he replied. "I mean...I won't." He flashed her a weak smile.

She replied with a laugh that made his heart flutter.

Releasing the breath that had been building in his chest, he quickly turned around, opened his bedroom door, and stepped out in the hallway. Once the door closed behind him, let out a nervous, shuddering breath. With a shake of his head, he sped down the hallway toward the elevator that would take him down to the hangar.