The surveillance data shows Williams maintaining normal business operations. No unusual travel, no meetings that indicate Committee involvement. But just because we haven't seen it doesn't mean it hasn't happened. Reeve operates carefully, using tradecraft that avoids obvious surveillance markers.
"We should flag Williams as a priority concern." I add his profile to our threat assessment. "Reeve hasn't reached him yet, but he will. Williams's too valuable a source to skip during a comprehensive audit."
Sarah nods, adding Williams to our watch list. Then she displays another profile, this one triggering recognition from my time in Committee networks.
"What about this one?" She pulls up a woman's file. "Amanda Hartley. She handled secure communications for the Committee's regional network a couple years ago, before moving to private sector work. Based in Whitefish now, running a cybersecurity consulting firm."
Hartley worked communications infrastructure while I was deep cover. I remember her name from operational briefings, remember that the Committee trusted her with sensitive network architecture. She handled their Montanacommunications—she knows details about their regional operations that could be valuable to Reeve's investigation.
"She could be a problem." I study her current business operations, noting clients that include several Montana corporations with Committee connections. "When Reeve interviews her about communications security, she'll provide information we don't want the Committee piecing together."
"Should we warn her?" Sarah's already analyzing Hartley's digital footprint. "Give her a heads up about the audit before Reeve reaches her?"
"Risky." I consider the angles. "If she's still loyal to the Committee, warning her exposes us. If not, she takes precautions that make Reeve suspicious."
"But when Reeve gets to her first and asks the right questions..." Sarah lets the implication hang.
"Then we monitor her." I load surveillance protocols. "Watch for Committee contact, track her communications. When Reeve reaches out, we'll know immediately and can assess the damage."
Sarah adds Hartley to our monitoring list, flagging her communications for real-time analysis. Then she leans back, rubbing her eyes. "This is expanding faster than we can track. Davis's network connects to dozens of people, any of whom could have information Reeve can use."
"We prioritize." I bring up the network map, highlighting the most dangerous connections. "Williams and Hartley are top tier because of their operational knowledge. The rest we monitor passively unless something changes."
"Agreed." Sarah checks the time. "We should update Kane. He needs to know about Reeve's meeting with Davis and the potential exposure through Davis's network."
We head toward Kane's office in silence, the old rhythm returning despite everything broken between us.Working investigations together feels natural in ways that personal conversation doesn't, the mission overriding emotional complexity.
Outside Kane's office, Sarah pauses. "Thank you for explaining. About the blackout, the messages, everything. It doesn't fix what happened, but understanding helps."
"I should have found a way to let you know I was alive." The guilt runs deeper than operational necessity can justify. "Should have broken protocol to send some signal, some indication that I wasn't dead or indifferent."
"You couldn't. I accept that now." She looks at me directly, and the tight line of her mouth softens slightly. It's not forgiveness, but the possibility of it. "But that doesn't erase the months I spent hating you. That's going to take time to work through."
"I'll take time over permanent silence." The admission feels dangerous, revealing hope I shouldn't allow myself. "If you don't hate me anymore, maybe eventually you can forgive me."
"That's not how it works." Her voice carries grief tangled with longing. "Hate takes as much energy as love. Both mean I'm still burning fuel on you. What I'm afraid of is the day when I look at you and there's just... nothing. No heat. No anger. Just emptiness."
The words hit hard. Indifference would be the real ending, the final death of what we had. As long as she hates me, as long as she's angry, there are pieces left to rebuild from. But once she stops caring entirely, we're done.
"Then I'll take your anger over indifference," I say quietly. "At least anger means you still care enough to feel it."
"I do still care." The admission costs her. "That's the problem. I want to not care. It would be easier if I could just look at you and feel nothing. But I can't. So I'm stuck somewherebetween hating you and missing what we had, and I don't know how to move forward from here."
Before I can respond, Kane's office door opens. He looks between us, cataloging every detail.
"Get in here," he says. "We need to discuss next steps."
We follow him inside, and whatever moment existed in the hallway disappears as we shift into mission mode. Kane's screens display the satellite imagery we've been analyzing, the network maps showing Davis's connections spreading across Montana.
"Tommy's been monitoring Committee communications." Kane opens encrypted message logs. "Increased traffic in the Pacific Northwest network. Nothing we can fully decrypt, but the volume shows they're ramping up operations."
"Reeve's audit is generating activity." Sarah moves closer to analyze the data. "He's checking in with Committee command, reporting on security assessments."
"Which means Webb knows about the audit findings." I study the communication patterns. "Any concerns Reeve identified during his meetings—Webb's already putting people in motion to verify and address them."
"Exactly." Kane highlights specific message clusters. "We can't read the content, but we can track the recipients. Webb is communicating with multiple Committee assets in Montana, coordinating something that requires regional resources."
Sarah accesses a tactical map, marking the locations where Committee communications are most active. "Kalispell, Missoula, Whitefish. All areas where Reeve has been conducting audits."
