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To Hope [Private Frequency]

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*A man holds down the PTT.  The scratchy-voiced American comes across the waves.*

Dr. Hope.  I hope you get this message.  I'm coming to you on behalf of a mutual...friend.

Hell, I'd be lying if I didn't say I'm coming to you on behalf of everyone you ever considered a friend.  Believe me.  There are still people around who love you...I don't mean like people who have the hots for you.  I'm talking about the people you've saved, the people you've helped.

You've made a lot of positive impact on people's lives.

There are people out there who would kill and die for you...literally.

My name is Bob Wilkinson.  I have friends everywhere.  Friends who want to help you, to protect you.

Our mutual friend, the Scottish doctor, reminds you it's time for your checkup.

Please give me a location to meet you.  I will come get you and bring you to safety.

*A man releases the PTT, running a hand through his hair.  He sighs and resumes cleaning his rifle.*

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Hope shuffles her way to the radio on the ground, picking it up with a flushed face. Should she trust this man? Or try to find a grenade knowing at least she'd be blowing another fucker out of the wasteland for good. Her voice seemed monotone, unpleasant to be precise as she replies.

"Why would I trust you, Bob? You may know me but I don't know you. Hell..."

She laughs a bit in a sick amusement.

"Even people I considered family seem to treat me like a stranger. Give me 5 good reasons. And if I don't find them valid, I ain't telling you where I am."

She begins to pick the rolled up plastic from her radio. Scratching into it, 'No hope.'

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*The man pushes the PTT, chuckling because he understands her caution.*

Number 1: The man for whom I work is the only one left alive you told about your little secret.  I don’t know what this secret is, but he assured me you’d understand.

Number 2:  The night you told this man about your beautiful little secret, he took blood tests in regards to this secret.

Number 3: On the night you told this man about your beautiful secret, and he took those samples, you, he, and another who is no longer with us (along with many others in Camp Hope) were taken by a man called Izaak.  The man who is no longer with us, the one who you heard die over the radio 3 days ago, sold himself to the captors so that you could escape.

Number 4:  The man I work for is a Scottish doctor of hematology.  He asked to join your camp once, and you were more than happy to have him.  He wants to more than return that favor.

Number 5:  Everyone with whom I’ve been speaking these last few days has referred to you as a sister or best friend.  We will not allow harm to come to you.  As said before, there are still those who will kill and die for you.

If you understand or believe any of what I have just said, the man I work for does not care if you contact ME with your location.

*The familiar Scottish voice of Nelson can be heard in the background as he tells the man what to say.*

Hope, you know me well enough.  Allow me to return this favor, allow me to help you, allow me to protect you.  You know my private frequency.  Please contact me there, as I’d rather the whole world doesn’t know your location.

*The man releases the PTT.*

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HOpe replies with a more softer tone.

"Camp Hope."

She tucks her radio in her pocket, limping to her camp.

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