Tricia’s new identity

Tricia had spent her entire life fighting for the truth, but now, truth was a luxury she could no longer afford. The woman she had been, Tricia Hale, was dead. And in her place was someone new.

She sat in a dimly lit apartment on the outskirts of Prague, staring at the documents laid out before her. A fresh passport, an ID, credit cards, all under the name Elena Volkova. The alias had been carefully crafted, built from layers of false records, forged employment history, and a background that could withstand scrutiny. Nathan had ensured that.

But no matter how carefully the details were arranged, the identity felt like an ill-fitting mask. She had spent a long time uncovering secrets, exposing lies, only to become a lie herself.

The small radio on the windowsill crackled with static before the news broadcast resumed.

"Authorities are still investigating the explosion in downtown Munich, which left several dead. Among the casualties is Tricia Hale, a known fugitive connected to classified government projects. Officials believe her death marks the end of a long pursuit…"

Tricia exhaled slowly. They had fallen for it. The explosion, the planted evidence, it had all worked. As far as the world was concerned, she was gone.

But her enemies weren't fools. Voss wasn't dead. And S.O.L.A.C.E. wasn't finished.

She turned her attention to the burner phone on the table. It was her only means of communication with the outside world. No internet, no traceable devices. Only pre-arranged calls at specific times. She had spent weeks in isolation, moving between safe houses, changing routines, never staying in one place long enough to leave a trail.

Yet, she could still feel them watching.

A knock at the door sent her heart racing.

She reached for the gun tucked beneath the table, her fingers steady despite the tension coiling in her chest. No one was supposed to know she was here.

She approached the door cautiously, pressing her back against the wall. "Who is it?"

A pause. Then, a familiar voice. "It's me."

Jared.

Tricia hesitated before unlocking the door. The moment it swung open, he stepped inside, his expression sharp, his eyes scanning the room before settling on her.

"You shouldn't be here," she said, locking the door behind him.

"Neither should you." He tossed a folded newspaper onto the table. "You've got a problem."

Tricia picked it up, unfolding it with careful hands. Her stomach clenched at the headline.

> Hale Alive? A Ghost in the System

Sources claim the woman presumed dead may still be at large. Government agencies refuse to comment.

The article was vague, filled with speculation, but it didn't matter. Someone was already questioning the official story.

"They're looking for you," Jared said. "And they're getting close."

Tricia clenched her jaw. "Then I disappear again."

Jared shook his head. "That won't be enough this time. They don't just suspect you survived, they know."

Silence stretched between them. Tricia's mind raced through contingency plans, exit strategies, alternative identities, but none of them would matter if S.O.L.A.C.E. had already picked up her trail.

Jared leaned in, his voice low. "We need to find out who leaked this. Someone knows you're alive, and if they know, they can sell that information to the highest bidder."

Tricia met his gaze. "Then we cut them off before they do."

Jared nodded. "I have a lead. A name."

Tricia picked up her gun and slid it into the holster beneath her jacket. "Then let's go hunting."