Page 12 of Operation: Defiance

A button clicks beneath the desk, and a loud buzzer sounds from the door to my left. It’s so close, it feels like it’s rattling my skull from the inside.

My shoulders jump before I can stop them. I still my hands, slow my breathing, and bring myself back under control.

“Go on through,” she says. “You’ll be met.”

The door opens to a short hallway. Two men are waiting on the other side. Uniformed. Wearing the same dark blue as the officers from this morning.

“Agent Calder,” one of them says. “Occupational Health requires a brief intake interview before all temporary assignments.”

An intake interview?

“I’m here for training and systems support,” I reply.

“We’re aware. You can get started after you complete the interview.”

The words arrive a beat late. Not because I don’t understand them, but because they don’t match what I’m expecting. I don’t let that show. Worry changes how people treat you. And once that happens, you lose leverage you don’t get back.

They don’t take me to the elevators. We pass them instead. Then a door marked Storage. Then another unmarked door.

The room they guide me into is small. No windows.

It’s colder than the rest of the building. I shouldn’t have left my coat in the car.

“Someone will be right with you,” the other man says.

Three chairs sit around the table. A clipboard is centered carefully at the far end. Paper forms. No computer.

I sit, and the door closes behind me.

Alone, I scan my surroundings. A camera’s red light watches steadily from the corner. A low, mechanical whir sounds as it sweeps the room. I look away and pull out my phone.

The message to Ellen is short. Factual.

Junior analyst placed on medical leave this morning.

Her activity log showed a request for a compliance review.

I was sent to Portland for a temporary training assignment two hours later.

This feels adjacent to what we discussed.

Am I reading too much into it?

I lock the phone and set it face down on the table. If there’s anything to worry about, Ellen will get back to me.

The metal back of the chair is cold even through my jacket. I fold my hands in front of me. I don’t know what this is yet. A department-wide review? Is someone upset that I didn’t notice Tessa was struggling?

I run my thumb along the edge of my ring to stop my thoughts from racing. Whatever it is, someone will tell me soon. Until then, all I can do is wait.