stigma

Time passed slowly in the oppressive silence of the safe house. YN lay on the cot, wide awake, her physical exhaustion and mental tension creating a cruel tug-of-war. Every second, she waited for a sound outside the door, for news about Elsa's fate, about her own destiny.

After an unknown amount of time, steady footsteps and low voices finally echoed down the corridor. YN immediately sat up, her heart pounding involuntarily. She heard Price's voice, and that cold, concise tone—it was Ghost. Then, another slightly deep voice joined in; she remembered it—it should be Keegan.

They seemed to pause briefly at the door, exchanging information in hushed tones. Then, the door clicked open. Price entered, carrying a tablet computer. His face was expressionless, but his gaze was more somber than before. Ghost followed behind him, still like a silent shadow. The other man didn't come in; YN only caught a glimpse of his tall, imposing back and the iconic silhouette of his ghost mask through the crack in the door before Ghost closed the door behind him.

“Doctor,” Price said bluntly, handing the tablet to YN, “I think you need to take a look at this.”

YN took the tablet; a news video from Austrian national television was playing on the screen. Elsa Brunner's official photo was prominently displayed, and the anchor was reporting in a serious and somber tone: "...Elsa Brunner, Second Secretary of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, is suspected of abusing her position to leak a large amount of sensitive information to foreign powers. The evidence of her treason is conclusive. After causing chaos near Ljubljana Airport, she fled, taking with her a C-national NPO advisor, Dr. YN, hostage. Both are currently missing and in extreme danger. The government has issued a red notice to Interpol and urges all countries to assist in their capture..."

YN's breath caught in her throat, her blood seemingly turning to ice in an instant. Treason? Hostage? She had become a hostage? This absurd accusation made her tremble: "This can't be! Elsa saved me! She did it to protect me..." YN's voice trembled with shock and anger as she looked up at Price, hoping to get a negative answer from him.

Price's gaze was calm, yet carried an undeniable sense of reality. "That's what the news said. Keegan brought back a reconnaissance report from the scene. There were numerous traces in the firefight area, but no trace of her could be found. She vanished without a trace, neither alive nor dead. It's like she evaporated into thin air."

Elsa disappeared, and the official explanation was that she was branded with shame, which also dragged YN into an abyss of despair. After the initial shock, YN forced herself to calm down. Reason, like ice water, gradually extinguished the flames of anger.

She recalled every detail of her encounter with Elsa: the "perfectly timed" seatmate on the plane, the initiative to strike up a conversation, the mention of "certain people" at the summit, and the later decisive decision to abandon the embassy channel and choose the "friend's" SUV... Was all of this really just a series of coincidences? Could it be that Elsa, who displayed extraordinary combat skills in the crisis, who accurately mentioned "Ghost Squad" and "Makarov" before parting, would really risk her life to help someone just because of a "save" situation at a cultural event?

Impossible. YN's heart sank. She realized that she might have fallen into a meticulously crafted trap from the moment she boarded the plane. Was Elsa's target her from the very beginning? Or more accurately, something she had access to? Or some kind of advantage she could offer as an NPO consultant? No, impossible! She couldn't understand. What value did she have that would make her go to such lengths, even risking the exposure of an elite agent lurking within the embassy? It was all a coincidence; she was just an unlucky soul who had been unwittingly dragged into it…

"Why..." YN murmured to herself, her thoughts in turmoil, as if asking Price, or perhaps herself, "Why did she do this? What do I have that she would do this for?"

Price looked at the young woman before him, who had just suffered a huge shock but was able to forcibly regain her senses in a short time. He pulled up the only chair in the room and sat down, his tone calm but carrying a heavy pressure: "Why? That needs to be investigated later. But right now, there is a more pressing issue for you to face, Doctor." He paused, looking directly into YN's eyes: "You cannot 'safely' appear in the near future."

YN's heart tightened. Price continued, "The Austrian government, or rather, the forces behind this smear campaign, are doing everything they can to find Elsa. And you, as the 'kidnapper,' are a key clue for them to find Elsa, or rather, a problem that needs to be 'dealt with.' If you show yourself now, not only will you immediately be in danger, but anyone who comes into contact with you—your family, friends, and colleagues—could be drawn into it and face unpredictable dangers."

These words struck like a hammer blow, shattering the last shred of hope in YN's heart. She had initially hoped to contact the outside world as soon as possible and clear up the misunderstanding, but now, Price's words made her acutely aware of the harsh reality. She was no longer just an innocent bystander; she herself had become part of the vortex, and an invisible net was tightening around her. The faces of her relatives and friends flashed through her mind, sending chills down her spine.

“But…why should I believe you?” YN looked up, her eyes filled with wariness and suspicion. “I don’t even know who you people are. Maybe you’re in cahoots with those who slandered Elsa? Maybe you have another purpose in locking me up here?” Her trust in Price and Ghost’s team was almost zero. These people were mysterious, powerful, and their motives were unclear. She was like a lone boat adrift in a dark ocean, unable to see any lighthouse to rely on.

Price seemed unsurprised by her questioning. He leaned back slightly, his fingers interlaced in front of him, quite patiently: “Very good question. In the current situation, suspicion is a survival instinct. But I believe we should at least establish a minimum level of trust, because it concerns your survival.” He paused, as if choosing his words carefully, then simply said, “We are called the ‘Ghosts.’ We don’t belong to any single country; our members come from elite units in different nations. We handle… global security threats that cannot be resolved by conventional means, matters that governments cannot directly intervene in.”

His description was very concise, even somewhat vague, but YN immediately picked up on the key words: transnational, elite, dealing with unconventional threats. This explained their professionalism and their strong reaction to the name "Makarov."

“As for Makarov…” A shadow crossed Price’s eyes. “You can think of him as a warmonger, a complete villain. He and his network make a living by instigating regional conflicts, selling arms, and creating chaos. His goal is disorder and destruction, and our goal is to stop him. The information Elsa asked you to bring is likely related to one of Makarov’s new conspiracies.”

Makarov…a warmonger…a global security threat…YN finally understood. She wasn't embroiled in a simple diplomatic dispute or crime, but in a dark vortex of intrigue and violence capable of shaking the international order. Elsa might be a member of an organization trying to expose or confront Makarov, or perhaps she herself was one of Makarov's, betrayed for some reason…and she, by a twist of fate, became a messenger, or rather… a pawn.

A wave of overwhelming fear washed over her again, but this time, mixed with a clear understanding: she was no longer just a passive victim. Price's words were both honesty and a warning, a form of bondage. Knowing their existence, knowing Makarov's name, meant she could no longer easily escape.

She looked at Price, and then at Ghost, who stood silently to the side, and finally understood that in this cold, isolated safe house, she had temporarily lost her freedom, but it might also be the only place that could provide protection for her.

“I… understand.” YN’s voice was a little hoarse. She looked down at her hands, which were clenched tightly together and her knuckles were white. “I need… time to process this.”

“Okay.” Price stood up. “We’ll make sure you’re safe. But please cooperate, Doctor. Now, rest.” He and Ghost left the room again, and the door was locked once more.

YN sat alone in the dim light, feeling like a butterfly manipulated by an invisible hand, having just glimpsed a corner of the storm, only to find herself already in its eye, with nowhere to escape. The future was uncertain; the only thing she was certain of was that her peaceful life of the past was completely gone.