Chapter 8 - A Key on the Table
Reyes requested a meeting through Bell rather than cornering Nia in the hangar.
Bell explained that he wanted to clarify something he had said in her presence. He had received advice about his own position. Nia could decline a joint conversation, and the investigator would still take his statement separately.
She agreed to hear the clarification with Bell present.
Reyes placed his keys on the table.
“I told you maintenance had handled it,” he said. “I hadn’t seen a release.”
“Why did you say it?”
“Because I was told to get the stations ready.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
He looked at Bell, then back at Nia.
“Because I wanted the conversation over.”
Nia had worked with him for eighteen months. He knew which instructor forgot lunch and which trainee needed instructions written down. He stayed late to replace batteries and found missing blankets without asking for praise.
She had mistaken all of that for evidence that he would never fail when it mattered.
“Who scratched the tag?” Bell asked.
“I did.”
Nia felt her jaw tighten.
Reyes kept talking.
“Hale told me the hold was old. He said the cylinder was returning as a reserve and not to let a duplicate request disrupt the demonstration.”
“Did he tell you to conceal his signature?”
“He told me to void the old tag. I used the wrong method. I left the cylinder number and crossed through the rest.”
Bell asked exactly what words he remembered. He separated them from what he had understood.
“Did anyone with maintenance authority tell you the fault had been repaired?”
“No.”
“Then why return it?”
Reyes stared at his keys.
“Because the colonel said he was accepting responsibility.”
Nia looked at the shallow marks the keys had left in his palm.
“And when he wanted my signature?”
Reyes didn’t answer immediately.
Bell waited.
“I knew he wanted somebody else’s name on the inspection.”
There it was.
Not a secret fortune. Not an elaborate conspiracy. A man with authority saying he would carry the risk, then reaching for someone lower when the risk became visible.
Nia folded her hands under the table.
“Did you know Ward’s request hadn’t been resolved?”
“Yes.”
“And you still described her stopped exercise as a failure.”
His voice thinned.
“Yes.”
He didn’t ask for forgiveness.
May you like
Nia was grateful for that much.
When the conversation ended, he picked up his keys, discovered his hands were shaking, and used both hands to put them in his pocket.
