Page 217 of Operation: Defiance

Diffuse morning light spills across the table in a way that feels ridiculously normal. Asher and I sit close, neither one of us willing to put the door at our backs.

“Tell me what I’m looking for,” he says as he takes another sip of coffee.

I’ve already divided the GSD personnel files, giving him the oldest of the bunch—from when agents went through the voluntary program. I doubt any of these agents were “disposed of.”

“Start at the beginning. Make note of any updates tied to the approval code and language that mirrors what we saw in the archive files. References to thresholds, risk justification, compliance…”

My voice isn’t entirely steady, even after two cups of coffee. I lost count of the number of times I woke gasping for breath overnight, braced for a correction that never came.

“If you find an RJ-3 escalation and the file ends within days, flag it. If there are a couple of monitoring notes after RJ-3 and then nothing—no return to active duty—those are the agents we might be able to find.”

“All right. But Raine…” Asher rests his hand, palm up on the table between us, and I lay my fingers over his. “If you need a break, take it.”

I nod, because I won’t lie to him. Part of me wishes we could spend the day in bed, or lounging on the couch watching old movies, or planning some sort of future. Together.

But without evidence, there’s no chance we’ll have a future—together or otherwise. GSD will keep putting pressure on Asher’s aliases. Tessa. Everyone I’ve ever worked with. And eventually, they’ll find us.

So I give his hand a squeeze then open my own personnel file. Sixteen years of a life I’d made my own. It wasn’t perfect, but it was mine.

Training scores, deployment notes, commendations, performance reviews, clearance bumps… The notes are dry—clinical and boring—though vague memories pop up here and there. Almost falling through the floorboards in an old shack in Kabul. The first time I had to kill a hostile in Bangladesh. Getting drunk with Jonas in Hungary at the end of the last op we worked together.

Five years ago, I find the first blip.

Calder escalated missing timestamp data to handler after mission leader directed her to disregard the issue. Risk Management approval granted for RJ-1.

So many ops blur together. But this one I know all too well. I looked at the field report a few days before they took me. It was one of the ops tied to the problematic Contractor ID.

Marisol leans out the window, her fatigues strategically ripped to give the twenty-something kid with an AK-47 a show. “We got lost three times on the way here,” she says in perfect Russian. “You look like an important guy. I bet you can call the Minister of Transportation so I can talk to him about all your missing road signs.”

I’ll never forget the dressing down Mari’d received that night from our field team leader. He’d threatened to send her back home mid-op for her behavior at that border checkpoint.

No.

The coffee cup wobbles in my hand. A month after that op, Marisol retired. But there was no retirement party. No company-wide “Thank you for your years of dedicated service” email. Just a three-line memo in bland language and instructions to call HR with questions.

My eyes burn, and I reach for Asher’s challenge coin. The motion is familiar now. Around. Over the top, trace the three straight lines, flip over, use the rough raised text as an anchor.

I make a careful note on the paper next to me.

Marisol Vega - Retired or sent to CP? Find her personnel file.

Scrolling again, it’s all routine until my last mission.

Calder continues to push back against mission objectives to the point of disruption. Risk Management approval granted for RJ-2.

A subtle flush of anger rolls down my spine. I didn’t disrupt the mission. I’ve never disrupted a mission. Not even after someone shot me.

The next line in my file is blank. That’s…odd. Claire has full access to my file as my supervisor. I move my mouse over the field and the pointer changes at the very end.

Why would there be a link with no text? I click it and frown.

My medical file? I scroll through a handful of updates until I find the notes from that last op.

Field treatment and shoulder reduction.

Immobilization ordered pending surgical reconstruction.

Per JV, given RJ-2 status, continued presence in the field would be inadvisable. Surgical approval revoked.