BEHIND THE CLOUD

Chapter 7 — Allies and Masks

The morning after the storm, the town was raw and aching. Streets shimmered, swollen with silt and broken branches. People waded through their own routines, checking damages—garden plots thrashed, market stalls stabbed by debris, the mural streaked with river mud but untouched in the eyes.

Amara met Jax at the shop, where Kelechi's staff hunched over a battered van, removing a rain-soaked battery. Jax had a pulled-together look, his recorder tucked away, his manner shy of solicitation. "You ready to do this for real?" he asked.

"We need rules," Amara said. "Information stays in our group, we double-check everything before public release, and no one acts alone."

Rhea joined them, brisk and pragmatic, carrying a satchel of printouts. "We’ll call it Operation Cloudline," she said, a wry edge in her voice. "Data, then accusations. Evidence before noise."

Kelechi approached, shadows in his expression. "Be careful, okay?"

"Are you in danger?" Amara pressed.

He shrugged, feigning bravado. "Only if debt counts as danger."

The group agreed to coordinate: Jax would scout sources, Rhea provide station feeds, Amara triangulate drone activity, and Kelechi keep watch for ground-level movement. But below the surface, trust ran in ratio to risk—each holding back truths to minimize personal exposure.

That night, Amara set up redundancies: encrypted folders, mirrored drives offshore. As she logged telemetry, a warning flashed—unusual ion counts on a Tuesday at 2:11 a.m. She dialed Rhea.

"It’s started again," Amara said.

"Document everything," Rhea replied. "If you get nervous, call me before you call anyone else."

In the dark, Amara felt the shape of the problem like static building under her skin.

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