Dadams shifts beside me again, tension building.
“She’s right,” he says, his voice stronger now. “The data logs, the patrol adjustments—there’s no way to justify them as isolated incidents.”
Driscoll’s eyes flick to him.
“And you’re admitting to mishandling those reports?” he asks.
“I’m admitting they weren’t mine to handle,” Dadams replies.
The temperature in the room drops.
Not physically.
Something else.
Driscoll straightens fully, his posture shifting from composed to something harder.
“You’ve both overstepped,” he says.
“No,” I reply. “We’ve uncovered it.”
His gaze snaps back to me.
“You’ve uncovered nothing you can use,” he says.
I lift the device slightly.
“Try me,” I say.
He watches me for a long second.
Then—
Something changes.
It’s subtle.
A shift in his stance.
A tightening in his shoulders.
“You think this ends with exposure,” he says, his voice lower now. “You think this system collapses because you recorded a conversation.”
“I think it starts here,” I reply.
He nods once.
Almost thoughtfully.
Then he moves.
Fast.
Too fast.
His hand comes up, weapon already drawn, and the shot cracks through the room before I can fully process the motion.
Dadams jerks beside me.
