Nothing more.
Melvin suggested shifting Second Squad back twenty minutes to tighten spacing through the choke point.
Mac traced the route with his eyes, then nodded. “Do it. Push the change through Ops before the evening update.”
Mac marked the adjustment on the sheet and set the pen down.
Melvin asked if he’d read the maintenance logs.
Mac nodded once. “I did.”
A brief pause followed, just long enough to carry meaning neither of them put into words.
Melvin’s eyes flicked up. “Your impression?”
Mac kept his voice even. “It needs attention.”
Melvin gave a small nod. “That matches mine.”
No names. No details. The TOC wasn’t the place for that conversation. Mac capped the pen and pushed the folder aside. “We’ll handle it.”
The words carried two meanings at once. One for the room. One for the man standing beside him.
Melvin answered, steady and professional. “Roger that.”
Mac picked up the next folder. “Anything else?”
“That covers it,” Melvin said.
He stepped away from the table, and Mac returned to the paperwork like nothing had passed between them.
By the time Melvin reached the door, the distance had settled back into place.
From across the room it would look like a routine exchange inside a busy TOC.
But both of them knew a line had been drawn.
And they were already standing on the same side of it.
The question now was who else would notice.
Chapter 23 - Melvin
The sun was dropping toward the horizon, throwing long shadows across the gravel between the company buildings. The heat had started to bleed out of the day, though it still hung in the air like something reluctant to leave. Mac stood just outside the TOC entrance checking his watch, posture rigid in the way Melvin had learned meant his thoughts were somewhere else.
Melvin spotted him from across the yard and slowed without meaning to. Even at that distance he could feel it. Not urgency, but the steady pressure of Mac’s presence under his ribs. The bond sat quiet and watchful, as if it sensed something weighing on him before Melvin reached his side. The stance looked casual enough to anyone passing by, an officer killing a minute between tasks. Melvin knew the difference between stillness and restraint.
They had not had a real conversation in days. Not one that was not clipped down to logistics and schedules and the thousand small tasksthat kept a company moving. They worked side by side constantly and still felt separated by a distance that never quite closed.
Melvin crossed the last stretch of gravel and stopped beside him, close enough to speak without raising his voice but not close enough to invite attention.
“You good?” he asked quietly.
Mac did not turn. His eyes stayed on the horizon beyond the perimeter wire. “Just staying busy.”
That had been the answer lately. Busy meant contained. Busy meant nothing needed explaining.
Melvin nodded once. He did not push, but he did not move away either. They stood there side by side watching the light shift across the motor pool and the shadows stretching from the parked trucks.
