James Hale did not waste time. The moment he reached them, his gaze snapped from Magnus to the technician and back again.
"What's the situation here?"
"General Hale," Magnus blurted out, "this man wants to report what he was forced to do under threats against his son."
James's eyes widened briefly with realization before sharpening instantly into cold focus. He turned toward the technician.
"Tell me everything," he said. "And I guarantee nobody will lay a hand on you or your family."
Something in the man visibly cracked after hearing that. Maybe because James sounded absolutely certain. Maybe because fathers recognized something in each other. Either way, he started talking.
He told James about the calls. About the money. About the threats. About the subtle assignment changes and manipulated timing inconsistencies he'd been pressured into making over the last several days. And eventually, once the words started coming, he admitted things he hadn't even gotten around to telling Magnus yet: burner phone instructions, dead-drop style payment pickups, vague descriptions of intermediaries carefully avoiding cameras.
James interrupted only to clarify details. Never once to judge him. The general focused with frightening intensity, like every single word he heard was being sorted, categorized, and weaponized in real time.
And when the technician finally finished speaking, James pulled out his phone and speed-dialed a number immediately.
"Call in some of our people," he ordered the second the line connected. "How fast can they—"
The door opened before the agent on the other end could answer.
Four men in civilian clothes stepped inside. If Katherine or her daughter were here, they would recognize the man on the phone as none other than the agent James had personally selected as Jordan's head of security detail.
"We're already here, sir," the agent answered as he lowered the phone from his ear.
James hung up slowly. His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Didn't I order you to stand by and await instructions?"
"Yes, sir."
The man did not look even remotely intimidated.
"But with all due respect, sir, I've served under you for over a decade." A beat. "Even if you decided against locking the venue down, there was still a high probability you'd require additional manpower for the investigation."
Another beat.
"So I took the liberty of calling in a few squad members who were off-duty nearby."
Magnus and Alex both blinked. Then they exchanged a glance and realized they were thinking the exact same thing:
This absolutely was not the first time these people had been mobilized for one of General Hale's terrifyingly overprepared protective parent operations.
Meanwhile, James was already issuing orders.
"Lewis, Carter — you're staying here," he said. "Work with the technician." He glanced toward the man. "What's your name?"
"You can call me Frank, sir."
"Right. You two work with Frank. Quietly undo every alteration made to the heat assignments and timing systems. I want full documentation of every change before anything gets reverted."
"Yes, sir."
James's gaze shifted briefly toward Magnus and Alex.
"Carter, escort these two back to my wife and their friend first. Then return here and assist Lewis."
"Understood."
Neither Magnus nor Alex missed the fact that General James Hale had just assigned armed federal agents to chauffeur them across a college track meet like they were under witness protection.
James turned toward the apparent squad leader next. "Dawson, you're with me. We follow every lead Frank gives us before whoever organized this realizes their asset folded."
"Understood."
Then James looked toward the final operative. "Miller. I want you at that child's school immediately."
Frank visibly stiffened. James's expression never changed.
"Protect that kid as if he wereVanessa," he said evenly. "And if anyone suspicious gets anywhere near him, detain them for questioning."
The agent nodded instantly. "Understood, sir."
And for the first time since Magnus had met him, Frank looked less terrified than relieved. James turned to leave with Dawson, then paused and looked back toward Magnus.
"You did good, kid." A beat. "What's your name again?"
Magnus blinked. "Magnus… uh, sir. Magnus Chane."
Something flickered briefly in James's eyes. Not quite recognition. Something adjacent to it, quieter, like a detail that had just been filed somewhere significant. Whatever it was, it vanished quickly enough that Magnus couldn't tell whether it had been real or imagined.
James gave a single nod. "Let's move."
And then he was gone alongside Agent Dawson, already transitioning seamlessly from protective father to active investigator with the same relentless momentum he seemed to bring into everything else.
***
Carter quietly and professionally escorted Magnus and Alex back toward the stands like he considered accompanying two college students through a sports venue during an active covert investigation a perfectly normal Tuesday — or rather, Friday.
Honestly, Magnus was beginning to suspect it probably was normal for these people.
By the time they returned, Sofia was sitting beside Katherine Hale near the lower rows overlooking the track. She spotted them first.
"Well," she said as they approached, "you two look like you just got adopted by the government."
"Feels kinda like it too," Magnus admitted.
Katherine stood immediately the moment she saw them.
"Well?" she asked.
Alex quickly explained everything — Frank's confession, the threats against his son, James mobilizing agents across the venue.
Katherine closed her eyes briefly and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Yeah, okay," she muttered. "I need to go to my husband."
Carter straightened slightly. "I can escort you, ma'am."
"Yes, thank you, Carter," she said. "How's your wife these days?"
"Doing well, ma'am. I'll send her your regards."
They started to leave when Alex suddenly seemed to think of something.
"Wait, Aunt Kate!"
She hurried after Katherine just before they left the stands. Magnus couldn't hear most of the conversation, only fragments exchanged quietly between them. Then Katherine reached into her purse and handed Alex something small, which she pocketed immediately.
Magnus frowned slightly as Alex returned. "What was that about?"
"You'll find out later," Alex answered.
Tony had disappeared again sometime during Frank's confession. Wherever he was, Magnus chose to believe it was fine. Probably!
Sofia looked between Magnus and Alex for a moment, read whatever was lingering in the air between them, and announced she was going to find something to eat.
"You two…" She gestured vaguely between them. "…clearly need to do whatever this is."
Magnus saw the direction she was heading and rubbed a hand down his face. Against his better judgment, he excused himself for a minute and called Sofia back.
She arched an eyebrow as he jogged over. Magnus exhaled, then decided to warn her about Tony's apparent "vendor investigation" after all.
Sofia nodded once and headed off while Magnus returned to Alex.
It was her turn to frown at him. "What was that about?"
"You'll find out later," he answered, then added: "Actually, it might be better if you don't."
For a while, neither of them spoke.
The competition continued below them — whistles, announcements, distant cheers, runners cutting across the track beneath bright afternoon light — but it all felt strangely far away compared to the silence sitting between them.
Then Alex exhaled quietly through her nose.
"We're still not okay… yet," she admitted. "But just like with Lila, being mad at you doesn't erase everything else."
Magnus nodded slowly.
"Thanks," he said quietly. "For taking my side even when you don't like it."
Alex leaned back slightly in her seat.
"Honestly," she admitted, "I hate that your idea actually worked."
Magnus had meant her taking his side at Harper's apartment the other day and backing his story there too. But since she chose to interpret it as being about earlier today, he didn't correct her.
"Honestly?" Magnus rubbed the back of his neck. "I still don't fully know what I was doing."
That got an actual laugh out of her — tired, slightly exasperated, but real. The sound loosened something tight in Magnus's chest before he could stop himself from reacting to it.
Then silence settled again. Though not hostile this time. Just… uncertain. Finally, Alex spoke without looking at him.
"Truce?"
Magnus blinked. "What?"
"At least until after Jordan," she clarified. "We can go back to fighting after that."
Magnus made a face.
"I'd rather we not go back to fighting at all," he muttered.
That earned another quieter laugh from her.
"Magnus," she said tiredly, "we're still stuck on the exact same problem."
"Yeah," he admitted softly. "I know."
"And until that changes…" She looked back out toward the track below. "I don't think this fight is going anywhere."
Magnus looked at her for a long moment after that.
Then he exhaled. "Temporary truce it is, then."
***
The meet lasted until late afternoon.
Somewhere behind the scenes, James Hale's people and Frank had apparently undone the sabotage quietly enough that not a single athlete realized how close the competition had come to turning into a complete disaster. The altered heat assignments were corrected. Timing inconsistencies dealt with. Officials blamed the earlier issues on "technical calibration errors," and life simply… moved on.
And through all of it, Jordan Hale still came out on top. Exactly like Alex had predicted.
Magnus watched from the stands as Jordan crossed another finish line first, sharp and explosive and completely untouchable once she built momentum. Whatever sabotage had originally been planned for her clearly hadn't been enough to stop her outright. Just enough to wear her down over time. Which honestly made the whole thing feel even slimier.
Jordan herself never seemed to realize how close someone had come to successfully compromising her meet. She spent most of the afternoon oscillating between competitive intensity and insufferably smug victory laps around her friends whenever another event went her way.
The truce between Magnus and Alex held through all of it. Uneasily so, but it held.
Things were still awkward between them. They both knew it. They could both feel it sitting underneath every conversation like a crack neither of them quite knew how to step around yet. But they were no longer pretending the other person didn't exist either. They were back on speaking terms.
There were even occasional moments of quiet intimacy slipping through automatically before either of them remembered they were technically still fighting. Alex fixed his collar once when it folded weirdly without thinking about it. Magnus handed her water before she asked whenever she got distracted watching events. There was teasing too — less than usual, more careful around the edges, but it came back.
And neither of them brought up Harper.
Not because they were pretending the problem didn't exist. More because they were both very consciously avoiding detonating their fragile ceasefire before tonight. Because in just a few hours, they were apparently going to attempt the single most socially dangerous conversation either of them had ever willingly participated in. Which honestly still felt insane no matter how many times Magnus mentally revisited the idea.
Now, as Jordan stood atop the podium receiving another medal with the expression of someone who fully believed first place was her natural habitat, Magnus leaned slightly toward Alex.
"Plans?" he asked quietly.
"I might have something," Alex murmured back without taking her eyes off Jordan. "Just follow my lead."
"…That sentence has historically not gone well for me."
Alex snorted softly despite herself. "You'll survive."
That remained to be seen.
Still, for a few seconds, things almost felt normal between them again. Not fixed. Definitely not fixed. But familiar in a way that made the looming argument feel farther away than it actually was.
Then Jordan stepped down from the podium.
She was grinning broadly, still riding the high of competition and victory as she headed toward the locker room area. A few other athletes called congratulations after her. Jordan accepted them with the casual confidence of someone entirely used to winning.
Alex stood. Magnus followed automatically. Security around the venue had visibly tightened over the course of the afternoon, but most personnel now recognized Magnus and Alex as "General Hale's people," which was apparently enough to let them walk almost anywhere without being questioned. Honestly, that realization was still mildly terrifying.
Jordan spotted them approaching and slowed slightly, tilting her head.
Alex reached her first.
"Up for another match?" she asked immediately. "I know you're dying to take another swing at me."
Jordan blinked once in surprise. Then she laughed.
"Oh, you're asking for it?" she said delightedly. "Then I suppose it's finally time I beat you up."
"We'll see who beats whom," Alex shot back instantly. "Who won last time again?"
Jordan's lack of immediate response answered the question for Magnus.
She narrowed her eyes. "Oh, I'm gonna enjoy wiping that grin off your face."
"Right back at you," Alex replied. Then, after a beat: "Are we going or are you just gonna stand here talking trash all day?"
"Oh, we're going alright."
Jordan immediately hooked an arm around Alex's shoulders and dragged her forward aggressively by the neck. Magnus stayed behind for half a second, trying to figure out whether Alex genuinely expected him to improvise an excuse to follow the two women, when:
"Chane!" Jordan called back. "You're coming too!"
He blinked. "Me?"
"Yeah, you." Jordan smirked. "You're gonna watch me beat your girlfriend in hand-to-hand combat."
She pointed at him. "I need an audience for that, and she'll definitely hate losing in front of you."