Chapter 3 - Twelve Days Earlier
Nia remembered Airman Tessa Ward standing in the supply doorway with a folded worksheet.
She remembered checking the clock.
A vehicle had been waiting outside. Nia was covering for somebody who was sick, and Reyes had said he would handle the trainee’s complaint.
“She stopped the exercise without finishing the station,” he’d told her. “We can’t pass that.”
Nia had reviewed the incomplete worksheet and initialed the evaluation. She hadn’t conducted the exercise or checked the equipment herself.
Now she sat across from Lang with the binder between them.
“I need to correct something I said earlier.”
Lang put down her pen.
“I said today was the first time I knew there might be a problem with that cylinder. Ward tried to speak to me twelve days ago. I didn’t hear her out.”
“What did she tell you?”
“She said the equipment wasn’t working the way the lesson said it should. I told her Reyes would address it.”
“Did she identify this cylinder?”
“I don’t remember. The worksheet does.”
Lang didn’t soften her expression.
“Then we’ll include both what you remember and what the record shows.”
Nia watched her write. It was possible to become a witness to someone else’s misconduct and discover an uncomfortable piece of your own.
By afternoon, Nia had provided a written account and been told not to discuss details with other witnesses. The cylinder, tag, and clipboard were being preserved. She wasn’t to conduct her own tests or search restricted records.
An investigator named Naomi Bell contacted her to arrange an interview about possible misconduct. Separate reviewers would examine the medical response and equipment controls.
“Will Hale see my statement?” Nia asked.
“I can’t promise that he won’t learn what you’ve reported. I can explain how to report any pressure concerning your testimony.”
It wasn’t the protection Nia wanted.
It was better than a promise nobody could keep.
Before leaving, she asked Lang about Ward.
“She’s still assigned here?”
“For now. Her course status is under review.”
“Because of the incomplete check?”
“That’s part of it.”
Nia looked down at the binder again.
Her initials had taken less than a second. They had stayed on that page while Ward argued, waited, and became someone other instructors described as difficult.
“May I tell her I’m correcting my evaluation?”
“Keep it separate from gathering testimony. Don’t ask her to prove your case.”
Nia nodded.
Outside, her phone showed a message from the course coordinator.
Her transport-medicine nomination had been placed on hold pending clarification of the incident.
The deadline hadn’t moved.
May you like
She read the message twice, then searched her contacts for Tessa Ward.
She had never saved the number.
