"Do you believe in coincidences? They're always a valid explanation to consider."
He nodded slowly. "You look at gaps. At the space between what should happen and what does. That's what I need."
"And if someone's creating those gaps deliberately?"
"Then we find out why, and we stop them." His expression didn't shift. "First, we figure out if they're testing the system or testing how close they can get to Rune."
He moved away before I could ask what he meant.
My palm still remembered the shape of Rune's spine. I thought about his immediate trust. Despite telling myself it was just professional, my body knew I was lying. I flexed my hand again.
The venue provided a small room for security between shifts. It was a room with cinder-block walls, a folding table, and stale coffee. The single window looked out on an airshaft and the back of another building.
I drank the coffee while my phone buzzed.
Eamon:How's the first day?
I stared at the message. Thought about the runner and the redirect. I considered the credential breach and Kang's implication that it might be connected to me specifically.
Griffin:Routine so far. Minor credential issue this morning. Kang's solid.
The response came immediately.
Eamon:Good. Call if you need anything.
I wouldn't call. The point of taking this job was to prove I could do it alone, without backup. I wanted to prove the industry wrong about me. If I couldn't, I'd prove them right.
I finished the coffee and checked the time. Four hours until the doors opened. Three until the band members returned for pre-show prep.
I walked around the venue before heading to my hotel. The Civic smelled like every backstage I'd ever worked: industrial disinfectant and the electrical-ozone scent of lighting equipment running hot.
They had relocked the Grove Street service entrance after the morning's breach. I tested it anyway. Solid. I photographed the card reader with my phone, then stepped back to check the line of sight.
One security camera was angled to catch faces approaching the door.
It created a gap.
If you entered from the loading dock side and kept your shoulder to the wall, the camera would catch your back and maybe the bill of a cap. The footage wouldn't be usable.
Someone had known precisely where to stand.
I kept walking and memorizing exit routes, but my mind stayed on that gap. People made mistakes. Systems had vulnerabilities. Thought about the Redwater job while I walked. It happened eighteen months ago in Seattle.
I still didn't know if someone set me up or if I had just been careless.
The investigation found no evidence of intent. No payments and no proof that I'd deliberately passed information to anyone. There was none.
Someone had gained access to the principal's movement schedule. It was an operational detail that should never leave the security team. It included route maps and vehicle assignments, the information that only three people had access to, and I was one of them.
The car was hit, but the principal survived. He lived through the accident but never walked right again. The news called it a security failure. The firm covered its ass by calling it unavoidable. Someone still had to bear the blame. They draped it around me.
The firm didn't accuse me of malice. They didn't need to. I'd been responsible for information security, and that security had failed.
The firm terminated me quietly, with no announcement. They didn't make accusations they couldn’t defend. Just a severance package and a professional silence that said everything they wouldn’t put in writing. One of the two other members of the security detail vanished after my firing.
I thought back to Seattle three weeks ago.
I'd sat in The Guardians' half-finished office, listening to Eamon Price explain why Chief Kang had requested me specifically.
