Tossing the TV remote onto the settee Indy wandered over to the nearest window and stared out. The streets were still dark save for street lights. It was too difficult to make out any sort of movement from this high up. The sun would be up soon and then he'd see the state Atlanta was in. He heard Freyr talking to the family behind him. He wondered what their plan was. With two young children and a father who's unable to react under pressure he wondered if they'd even make it out of the city. Where would they even go? At this point in time as far as Indy was concerned this problem had only struck Atlanta. It wouldn't be long until he found out just how widespread it had become in such a short time. 
 
“A state of emergency,” he whispered to himself as he leaned hard against the glass window with one arm. He knew what that meant. Every highway would be locked down by the police, riot teams would be in the streets, martial law would be declared, quarantines and detention areas would be erected, and helicopters with spotlights would be all over the city like flies around a carcass. All of the things Indy figured would happen did happen, and much more. At that time he would never have imagined the president's ultimatum, but that wouldn't happen for some time yet. They'd be safe up here in the apartment, he figured. They were high up and they could lock and barricade the door. Electricity and water would still be running for a long time yet. They were close to the roof too, if they needed to be evacuated. He kept a calm demeanour and at that time he told himself that the local authorities could contain the situation. He had no idea. Whatever was happening however he wanted to focus on protecting Freyr, not some other man's wife and children. He walked quietly over to where they were sitting and sat down.

“Where were you planning on going?” he asked the woman with a soft voice.
 
“Florida,” she managed to say between choked sobs. “My family's there. We're gonna take the I-75 down to Tallahassee.” Indy knew they probably wouldn't get far. The local authorities knew people would likely try to flee along the highways and would either send them back where they came from or, if things were particularly bad, funnel them into quarantine.

“Alright,” Indy nodded slowly. “I guess you'll want to take advantage of the time and get as far as you can before everyone else gets the same idea,” he added. The woman nodded. She wanted to get her family to safety as much as Indy wanted to protect Freyr and his home. He wandered over to the kitchen table and rested his hands heavily against the surface. He let out a long, deep sigh and wondered what his plan was. He'd figure something out, he always did, but he had never been in a situation quite like this. Riots were one thing – the apartment had special security systems and its own security guard which would keep the residents safe – but this was something else. He felt Freyr's arms around him. He turned around to face her, put his arms around her in return, and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. He felt something hard near the base of her back. 

“What is--...” He lifted up the back of her shift and grasped the object. It was their pistol. Freyr had insisted they bought a firearm and enough rounds to sink a battleship 'just in case'. He never understood why or how a woman who lived in this kind of apartment and worked in real estate was so keen on guns, but that was just her. He put it down to her just being southern. He wanted to tell her that they weren't about to go to Vietnam and that she wouldn't need it, but decided against it. He placed it on the kitchen counter behind them, out of the family's sight. The last thing he wanted was for the father to get ideas and steal it to protect his wife and children. Indy had his own firearm which he kept locked and hidden; a Smith & Wesson M1917. An original which had been fired at the second battle of the Somme in the first world war by Indy's grandfather, Captain Nelson Ford. Indy's grandfather knew his grandson loved old relics and figured it would be safest with him. Indy had kept it pristine over the years. It was locked away in a green army tin as old as the pistol itself. He had twelve rounds of ammunition to go with it. He wasn't going to dig it out just yet however.

“Let's not arm ourselves just yet, Frey,” he said softly. He spoke and looked at her in a gentle manner, wanting his calm demeanour to reassure her. He smiled at her and put his arms loosely around her neck. “Let's get these people on their way and we'll be safe here.”