Chapter Fifty-Seven
Raine
After a few clicks, I’m staring at GSD’s internal dashboard. It’s so familiar, my hands remember what to do before my mind can catch up.
With no guarantee how long this channel will stay open, I start my search for the one thing I know I can find—the approval code from all those escalations in the archive files. It’s the constant. The only constant besides RJ-3.
“What did you search on?” Claire leans in, frowning, as hundreds of results fill the screen.
Asher shifts in his chair, shoulders tensing as his hand inches toward his jacket pocket for a beat before he relaxes again.
I return my focus to the screen. “This approval code is tied to the black site escalations. Before…I was taken, I found half a dozen agents who’d disappeared from the personnel rosters with no explanation. No retirement paperwork. No medical reports. They were just…gone.
I guide the mouse pointer to a file with a time stamp I recognize. “This is my personnel record.”
“Wait,” Claire says. “Three lines up. That’s…Tessa’s ID.”
If I could, I’d spare her the knowledge that she’s been part of a system that destroys dissent and sends agents to be erased. But I won’t lie to her to make this easier.
I let my gaze sweep over the list—scanning, not reading. It would take me days to go through all the files, and we don’t have that kind of time. Not here.
With one click, I sort the list so the oldest entry moves to the top. A single document sits at the beginning of a long list of employee files and budget records going back more than eleven years. The name is generic—probably related to the cost center that created it—but I open it anyway.
Operational Standards Intensive Program Charter.
This is the start of it. Of everything.
The first paragraph is clinically boring, but sounds almost…pleasant.
The Operational Standards Intensive (OSI) is a voluntary, seven-day residential renewal program for agents experiencing tactical fatigue or measurable performance decline.
This voluntary program offers a restorative environment developed by licensed clinicians that features guided reflection, journaling, movement sessions, and meals structured to support cognitive and physical restoration. To maintain focus and encourage full engagement, participants agree to suspend outside communication and remain on site for the duration of the program.
Claire glances between me and the screen, her frown deepening. “That sounds…kind of nice.”
She isn’t wrong.
“It might have started out that way. It’s nothing like that now.” I plug a thumb drive into the terminal and copy the file before returning to the search results.
The next few pages aren’t all that interesting. Budgets, contracts, and a couple dozen agent referrals each year. But six years ago—a few months before Ellen retired—I find a file titled Program Revision Memo.
I don’t want to read it. Not after what Ellen told me. But I have to.
To: Commissioner Adams
From: Julian Voss, PhD, BCBT
Effective immediately, I am assuming direct oversight of the Operational Standards Intensive program. A voluntary “renewal” program is ineffective at addressing performance decline due to erosion in discipline and ideological defiance.
The Coherent Path Program (CPP) will replace OSI in both structure and intent. Participation is mandatory once an agent has exceeded defined thresholds. Agents will remain in controlled isolation until compliance can be assured. Reintegration is not guaranteed, and will only be approved when independent judgment no longer interferes with operational objectives.
“Oh, my God,” Claire whispers.
I tug at my sleeve so she can’t ignore the dark bruises circling my right wrist.
“My mentor was one of the first women sent through the new program.” I lock eyes with Claire for a moment. “When she got out, they forced her to retire. And a few days ago, they threatened to send her back there. They’re monitoring Tessa. Because what they did almost destroyed her.”
A tear rolls down Claire’s cheek.