"Ms. Beck," I say. "The floor is yours."
She stands.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
And then she walks over to the holographic display at the center of the table.
She taps the control panel.
The display shifts.
Anatomical diagrams fill the air—detailed cross-sections of muscular structure, skeletal reinforcement, neural pathways.
Sentinel Dynamics' bio-engineered enforcers.
"Okay," Tamsin says, her voice dry and matter-of-fact. "So here's the thing about illegally modifying someone's shoulder girdle to support enhanced upper-body strength: if you do not account for the surrounding musculature, you are basically building a time bomb."
She pulls up a close-up of the shoulder joint.
"This is the deltoid. This is the trapezius. This is the scapula anchor point. Sentinel reinforced the clavicle and scapula to handle increased load-bearing capacity. But they did not increase the flexibility or elasticity of the surrounding muscle tissue."
She taps the diagram.
Three points light up in red.
"These are the primary trigger points. If you apply sustained pressure—or a sharp kinetic strike—to any one of these locations, you trigger a cascade failure in the entire muscular matrix. The muscles lock up. The joint freezes. And the enforcer is completely immobilized."
She looks around the room.
"It is the exact same mechanism as stone-lock in gargoyles. Except instead of emotional suppression causing calcification, it is physical overexertion causing muscular paralysis."
The room is silent.
Commander Vex leans forward, his eyes narrowing.
"How long does the paralysis last?" he asks.
"Depends on the severity of the strike," Tamsin says. "Sustained pressure? Maybe thirty seconds to a minute. Sharp kinetic impact? Could be five to ten minutes. Long enough to neutralize the threat and extract."
Seraph pulls up a secondary display.
"If we can confirm this vulnerability in a live scenario," she says slowly, "we can use it to dismantle their entire enforcer program. No one will hire them if their security personnel can be taken down with a single pressure-point strike."
"Exactly," Tamsin says.
Kael looks at me.
"We need access to their operational data," he says. "Enforcer deployment schedules. Genetic modification records. Financial transactions. Everything."
"Agreed," I say. "Which brings us to the primary objective."
I pull up a new holographic display.
A sleek, modern building.
Glass and steel.
