At the moment, Chris's cover identity was FBI, and more than a few survivors on-site knew him that way. He had no choice but to step forward and meet the redhead's gaze.
"Hey, Ms. Hand. I heard you went back to campus to do research?"
The woman studied him for a moment. "Chris? Long time no see. …Research requires funding. They asked me to lead the operation here. Just another assignment. And you? I heard you're still planning your BSAA. What brings you to Arizona?"
Chris pointed to the side. "My sister got caught up in this mess."
He made the introductions: "This is my sister, Claire. This is Bella Swan. Claire, Bella—this is Victoria Hand. She's one of the key supervisors for the West Coast."
He only said she was responsible for the West Coast—not which organization. Bella wisely kept her mouth shut.
The two "fake FBI agents" chatted like old colleagues. The survivors trusted Chris more than anyone else, so once they saw him vouch for the newcomers, they immediately began gathering their things, preparing to move into the safe houses.
And Victoria Hand quickly proved her worth. She knew multiple congressmen, state officials—even federal contacts. A few phone calls, and every bureaucratic obstacle vanished.
But hiding in a safe house was far too passive. It didn't match Bella's plan at all.
She had to ask, "Do you have an actual plan? This… 'killer' uses methods that are brutal—and almost impossible to trace."
Victoria Hand gave Bella a long, careful look. She had little patience for pretty women—especially those younger than herself.
Normally she wouldn't answer a question like that. But the strangeness of this mission made her hesitate. Finally, she chose to reveal a little.
Lowering her voice, she said, "We have some intel on this entity. It uses coincidences around its targets to kill. Sometimes there's a pattern; sometimes there isn't. Our plan has to adjust case by case."
It was a very cautious answer—sounded like a lot, but revealed almost nothing.
Bella realized she had to prove she wasn't dead weight. Adjusting her expression, she feigned innocence. "Have you ever thought… maybe it isn't human at all? Maybe it's some kind of… natural law? A response mechanism? Or a collective consciousness?"
Victoria's expression hardened. Her tone turned subtly leading. "Could you elaborate?"
"Of course. Look—why kill survivors? Who is it? First, we can rule out the airline. No matter how crazy their executives are, they wouldn't do something so inhuman. That also rules out rival airlines—there's no motive. At least not enough to kill so many people…"
Bella sensed that Victoria Hand already knew part of the truth.
The killings were so blatant the government couldn't possibly be unaware. Victoria seemed to be trying to extract everything Bella knew, then merge it with their own intelligence and take the driver's seat.
Bella didn't mind them taking control. Fine by her.
She worked from myths, folklore, old legends—laying out the form and logic of Death's existence, while holding back only the most crucial details. She stopped just short of calling it the remnant will of some dead Mayan deity.
"And what does the FBI plan to do?" she finally asked, acting as if the thought had only just occurred to her.
Victoria Hand's expression relaxed. Bella's knowledge hadn't exceeded her expectations.
"We have a protocol. Whenever a survivor experiences a lethal crisis and survives, we rotate them out of the safe house. Then we use technology to replicate their biometric signatures. When every survivor has been evacuated, we seal the entire site with a special alloy—entombing your 'Death' underground."
Bella considered it.
It wasn't a bad plan. Just far too idealistic, with too many uncertainties.
At best, a twenty-percent success rate—and a guaranteed body count.
"I don't know much about your signal-replication tech—I'm just a student. But this death mechanism has loopholes. While studying Native American culture, I found something…"
She opened the missionary's notebook from the Forks High library.
Victoria Hand, the Redfield siblings, and Storm all leaned in.
"Two hundred years ago, on the plains of Oklahoma, there was a tribe—Sapulpa. They lived peacefully in the canyon. Until one day the colonists came. Bow and arrow against gunpowder… stone spears against bayonets…"
She didn't need to say the outcome. Everyone present already knew how those wars ended.
"The men, the women, the children… all gone. The tribal chief cursed the colonists. He pointed at the sky and swore no outsider would ever claim the canyon again. The curse used his life as the price, with every ancestor and spirit of the tribe as witness. Anyone who entered the canyon would meet disease and death."
Bella concluded, "Only death can counter death. One deadly rule can collide with another. The Sapulpa curse caused countless insects to thrive beneath the canyon. And this entity causing the plane crash—it can't accurately account for the number of living participants."
Victoria immediately understood the key point. "You're suggesting we go into the canyon, trigger the curse ourselves, throw the plane-crash entity off, and let the two lethal forces cancel each other out?"
Bella nodded.
Victoria turned to Storm. "Ms. Munroe—your opinion?"
Storm, silver hair reflecting the light, replied calmly, "I believe it has a higher success rate than the previous plan."
Her enthusiasm for this mission was close to zero. Bella knew Storm had some magic of her own, but decided it was wiser not to approach her yet.
Victoria Hand wasn't the type to rewrite an operation on the spot just because someone offered a new theory. But with Storm backing it—and with the logic fitting the pieces—they moved fast. Soon after, the forty-two survivors boarded reinforced buses.
Victoria made a series of calls—first confirming the exact coordinates and conditions of the canyon, then requesting authorization from her "FBI" superiors, and finally gathering analysts and experts to evaluate the risk.
In the end, she obtained full approval for a brand-new operation.