salute ➳ 〚h.s.〛 〚a.u.〛

if you call for me you know i'll run

"Negotiations aren't going to work in this case. We know from the past that their group has no interest in making deals. They're out to spread hatred and evil in the world and we can't let them succeed —"

"Okay, hold on a moment," Eleanor interrupted, bringing the JIC meeting to a halt around her. "Can we be a little less dramatic about this please? This isn't a film; there's no need for doublespeak and propaganda in this room."

"Ms. Calder," one of the stuffy suits said with a disapproving tone, narrowing his eyes at El from across the table. "There is a certain degree of propriety we expect in this room —"

"Oh, cut the bullshit," Harry muttered from his seat, finally making a contribution to this stupid conversation that had been going on far too long. Thus far he'd just been sitting quietly in his chair, looking at the pictures Piper had been sending him of the three of them at the park on his phone. Looking at the wide smiles on his daughters' faces as they played at the park made him yearn desperately to be there with them instead of stuck in this bloody boardroom, listening to old men argue about how to spin their planned military invasion.

"Mr. Styles, I'm not sure why you think you have the right to speak on this issue but I'd ask that you refrain yourself. You're here for the sole purpose of reporting on the progress of the new wave of recruits and nothing else."

"I'm not going to sit here and listen to you spout lies to further your agenda. I've spent time in the country, I know the people, the climate. I certainly know the politics. This group is an arm of the military that's gone rogue. I'm sure if you spoke with the government they'd be more than happy to aid in dismantling them."

The man — Harry was sure he'd introduced himself but he'd lost his name almost two seconds after Piper had sent the first pick of his two little flowers going down the slide together, his gingersnap holding onto her sister protectively — gave Harry a dirty look, his eyes narrowing, but one of his colleagues looked a little more intrigued by what Harry had to say.

"Are you implying, Agent Styles, that this can be solved with negotiation?"

Harry nodded. "I'm almost sure of it."

"You've got some nerve, boy."

Harry glanced over at the presenter who was still standing, his face red enough that it looked about to pop. "I'm not your boy and you'll find I have quite a lot of nerve actually."

"I think we should hear him out," Crawford, head of MI5, said to the rest of the table. There was a pause as everyone considered it and then a general consensus as everyone nodded. The presenter was forced to sit when Crawford sent him a lingering look and then Crawford nodded toward Harry. "Tell us what you can about the situation, Styles."

"The government is actually very stable under the new president but there are arms of the military that aren't happy with the change in regime and have been breaking off to further the agenda of the old president. I believe the group in question is one of those splinter cells — "

Harry stopped when he heard the familiar double beep in his ear that signalled an incoming call. He had his transmitter set to do not disturb so the only people who could get through were Eleanor, who was sitting right in front of him, and Piper. He felt a fleeting pressure in his chest as he waited for the call to connect. He heard someone say his name but he was hardly listening, his attention focused on the call.

Because Piper knew she wasn't supposed to call during meetings unless it was an emergency, and that could only mean one thing.

The call connected and he heard Piper's voice, quiet and panicked, say, "It's alright, Vi. You're sister is going to be fine."