Against All Odds (Silent Moments Series: Book 2)

Chapter 19

 Lexa was waiting for me just outside the room, her posture conveying a mix of readiness and the weight of leadership. "Ready to go?" she asked, her gaze meeting mine with a sense of shared purpose.

"Sure thing," I replied, a note of determination in my voice. As we moved towards the meeting room, I took the lead, reaching out to open the door for her. This small gesture was my way of showing respect and solidarity, acknowledging the gravity of what lay ahead.

Our walk to the meeting room was quiet but purposeful, each of us lost in our thoughts about the discussions to come. As we arrived, I held the door open for Lexa once more, a silent reaffirmation of our partnership in these trying times.

Once inside, the meeting commenced with a sense of urgency. However, as the hour ticked by, it became increasingly apparent that we were stuck in a frustrating loop. Ideas and strategies were discussed, but no consensus was reached. The conversation seemed to spin its wheels, each point circling back to where it had started. The room was filled with the voices of different leaders and representatives, each bringing their perspectives and concerns. The air was thick with the tension of clashing opinions and the pressure of making critical decisions. Lexa presided over the meeting with a stoic patience, yet even she seemed to be grappling with the complexities of the situation. As I sat there, participating and listening, I couldn't help but feel the weight of the challenges we faced. It was clear that finding a path forward would require more than just tactical discussions; it would need a breakthrough, a shift in perspective or strategy that could break the deadlock.

The Grounder chief, his patience visibly fraying, made a blunt, merciless suggestion that sliced through the room's tense atmosphere. "This argument is a waste of time. If they cannot breathe our air, then why not just open the door and let them burn?" he proposed, his voice harsh and unyielding.

I immediately countered his suggestion with a reasoned argument. "No, they have a containment system, multiple airlocks, much like the ones we had on the Ark. Our inside man can shut those down," I explained, trying to steer the discussion towards a strategic approach.

The chief, skeptical of the plan's viability, shot back with a pointed remark, "If he gets inside."

Lexa, ever the tactician, proposed an alternate strategy, her voice steady but laced with a sense of urgency. "What if we attack the problem from the outside? The dam provides their power; let's cut it off," she suggested, her eyes scanning the room, gauging reactions.

I began to voice my skepticism about the feasibility of her plan, "That dam withstood a nuclear war, Commander, I highly doubt..." But before I could finish, Quint, one of the chiefs, slammed his hands on the table, his frustration boiling over.

"All he offers is no," Quint accused, his eyes burning with impatience and disdain.

Lexa's response was swift and firm, her gaze locking with Quint's. "Quint," she said sharply, a clear warning in her tone.

Quint begrudgingly offered a terse apology, "Apologies, Commander." Yet his frustration remained palpable as he continued, "But our largest army awaits our command. The longer we delay, the more of our people suffer on that mountain."

I tried to empathize with their losses, seeking common ground. "It's the same for all of us," I said, my voice earnest.

Quint's retort was sharp and personal. "We've lost thousands. How many have you lost, boy? Waiting for one man is not a plan," he sneered, his words laced with contempt.

Another Grounder supported Quint's call for immediate action. "I agree with Quint. We have an army, let's use it."

I argued for patience and strategy, emphasizing the need for a tactical approach. "We will, after Bellamy disables their defenses, turns off the acid fog. You can't win if you can't reach the enemy," I said firmly.