The word lingered longer than it should have.
During her first briefing, she was seated at the far end of the table, just out of reach of the main operations map. Every time a question brushed in her direction, someone else intercepted it. Not aggressively, not obviously—just enough to make her presence unnecessary.
Requests she submitted for system access stalled.
Meeting invitations arrived after the meetings had ended.
Her clearance badge opened doors that led nowhere useful and denied the ones that mattered.
When she asked about a secure terminal, Major Colin Reeves from logistics gave her a tight smile and said, “You won’t need that level of visibility.”
Imani didn’t argue.
She had not come to Fort Calder Ridge to be visible.
She had come because something buried inside that base was moving quietly, and too precisely, to be accidental.
It started with numbers that didn’t quite line up.
