Page 11 of Operation: Defiance

That’s not a label. It’s a trigger. One that just noticed me.

I pull my hands away from the keyboard, pressing my thumbs together until my pulse settles. Ellen’s words come back to me.

“Don’t take risks. You’re useful where you are, Raine. Stay that way.”

For now, I’ll leave it alone. Do my job. And hope I hear from Tessa soon.

Right before lunch, Claire calls me into her office.

She doesn’t offer coffee. Odd. She always offers me coffee.

I take a seat, crossing my legs with my tablet balanced on my knee.

“Raine,” she says, pushing a stack of folders aside with a smile, “I want you to hear this from me first. Tessa’s taking a month of medical leave. She’s been under a lot of stress lately, and GSD takes the health of its people seriously. You don’t need to worry. She’s getting the care she needs.”

The guilt hits the center of my chest, settling under my ribs with a low, shallow ache. I should have noticed Tessa was under strain. Spotting inconsistencies in data is easy. Human variables are harder. My thumb drifts to the edge of my ring, the rough texture helping me focus on what to say next.

“I hope Tessa’s okay. She loves this job. And she’s good at it, too.”

Claire studies me for a moment, then nods. “She is. She’s lucky to have you as a mentor.”

I don’t know what to do with the compliment, so I focus my attention on Claire’s shoulder. Safer than making eye contact, but close enough Claire doesn’t notice.

“We’re reshuffling some assignments this afternoon. Temporarily. Since we’re down an analyst until Tessa gets back.”

“All right.”

She taps her keyboard a few times, and her printer whirs to life. The smooth, practiced sound of paper sliding into the tray fills the pause she doesn’t.

“There’s a short-term need at the Portland field office,” she says, handing me the printout. “Systems support and training. Two or three days. Your skill set fits what they’re looking for.”

Portland is far enough away I won’t be home tonight. I don’t like hotels. The sheets are always too scratchy and the pillows too firm.

“I’m not field-certified anymore.” I touch my right shoulder out of habit. There’s no pain, but my heart rate spikes anyway.

“This isn’t fieldwork,” Claire replies. “The Portland analysts are falling behind on their deliverables. That’s why they want you down there. The process improvements you’ve implemented since you joined Systems have made us twenty percent more efficient. If you can do the same thing in Portland, they’ll catch up in no time.

“All the details are on the form,” she continues. “They need you there before the end of the day. Will that be a problem?”

I glance down at the printout. The assignment is already approved. Travel authorization, lodging, and per diem are all in place.

“What prompted the request?” I ask.

Claire shrugs, then shakes her head with a soft chuckle. “The director probably got raked over the coals after last quarter’s numbers came out. If you need anything while you’re down there, give me a call.”

“Okay. You can let them know I’ll be there by four.”

I bring only what the assignment calls for. Two changes of clothes. Toiletries. Phone, laptop, credentials. I leave the overnight bag in the trunk. I’ll grab it when I get to the hotel.

The Portland office is small. Older paint. Dimmer lights. The air carries a faint chemical scent, like the carpet was recently cleaned and hasn’t quite dried.

I give my name at the desk.

The receptionist checks her screen. Frowns. Checks again.

“One moment,” she says.

She reaches for a clipboard with a pen tethered by a string. I sign where she points.