That's protocol. " "The route was already compromised," Dara said. "12 hours before the transfer. It's in the staffing log, third paragraph. A catering vendor canceled and was replaced same day. Unverified replacement. " "The route runs past their access point. " Silence.
Enwacheku looked down at the brief. "Back up. Continue. " Dara continued. When she finished, the room was still. Not the polite stillness of people waiting for the next thing.
The stillness of people who had just watched something they didn't have language for yet. Director Enwacheku did not make a mark on her clipboard immediately. She looked at Dara for a long moment. "That's what the original analyst missed, she said quietly. The catering vendor.
11 people reviewed that file, made her mark. Down. Brock's chair scraped against the floor. He was standing before he decided to stand. That's He stopped, restarted.
That brief was designed for her. She had prior information. Director Enwachaqu turned to look at him with an expression that could have frozen water. Excuse me. Saying the scenario was engineered.
Nobody finds that in 4 minutes cold unless they already Mr. Callahan. Voice didn't rise, it dropped. We'll ask you one time to sit down. Brock's chest was rising and falling faster than it should have been.
His hands were open at his sides. He looked around the room at the faces that had been laughing with him 3 hours ago and found nothing there now. No agreement, no backup, just 31 people watching him come undone in real time. He sat down. Dara did not look at him.
She had opened her folder again. And that that quiet, absolute indifference was the thing that broke him completely. He stood back up. You think you proved something. His voice was raw now, unscripted.
You got lucky twice. You want to go again? No matter, no observers, no. Mr. Callahan.
Director Enwachaqu's voice cut through the room like a door slamming. You are done. Looked at her. Collect your materials and leave this building. The silence that followed was the loudest thing in the room.
Brock stood there for 4 full seconds. Then something in his posture collapsed, not dramatically, just quietly. The way things fall when there's nothing left holding them up. He picked up his bag. He walked to the door.
He stopped once, looked back at Dara, maybe hoping for something, some acknowledgement, some reaction he could hold on to. She was reading her folder. He left. When the door closed, Director Enwachaqu let the silence breathe for a moment. Then she said, still looking at her clipboard, Composure is not a soft skill.