"And I did," Elias replied quietly.
"But you might want to look closer before you send her back onto the highway."
The security team exchanged brief glances. The convoy engines idled behind them, deep and steady like restrained thunder.
Traffic roared past in bursts of white headlights, spraying mist across the shoulder. Victoria Hale stepped forward from the shelter of the open SUV door.
Her voice carried calm authority now, far different from the sharp tone she'd used earlier.
"What do you think you see?" she asked.
Marcus Trent, her head of security, turned slightly toward her.
"Ma'am, I suggest we handle this internally."
Victoria didn't move her eyes from the mechanic.
"I asked him."
Elias crouched again beside the wheel, careful not to touch anything this time. Rain trickled down the rim as he pointed toward the thin brake line tucked just behind the rotor.
"You see that shine right there?" he said.
Marcus leaned closer despite himself. "That's rain," Marcus said.
"Not quite," Elias replied.
"Rain would coat the whole line. That spot's clean."
"Someone wiped it recently."
The guard's jaw tightened.
"That doesn't mean sabotage."
"No."
Elias agreed calmly.
"But the scoring on the sidewall does."
Victoria stepped closer. Her coat darkened with rain as she bent slightly to see where he was pointing.
"What scoring?"
Elias traced the air just above the tire's shredded edge. "Those cuts are too uniform," he explained.
"A blowout from road debris tears jagged. This one was weakened first."
Marcus folded his arms.
"You're telling us someone tampered with the tire?" "I'm telling you someone weakened it enough to fail at speed," Elias said.
"But the brake line behind it, that's what would finish the job."
The words hung in the rain. Marcus's expression hardened.
"And how exactly would a roadside mechanic know that?"
Elias didn't answer right away. Instead, he stood looking out at the dark highway stretching beyond the guardrail.
Headlights streaked past like distant comets. When he spoke again, his voice carried that same steady calm.
"Because I've seen it before."
Marcus took a step closer.
"Where?"
Elias met his eyes.
"Vehicles designed to look safe until they hit 70 miles an hour."
Victoria's gaze sharpened. The security team shifted uneasily.
One of the guards leaned down to examine the brake line more closely.
"Marcus," the man murmured. Marcus crouched beside him, frowning.
The rain had washed the area clean enough now that the mark Elias pointed out was impossible to ignore. A thin cut, barely visible beneath the protective coating.
Marcus's breath slowed. That's, he began.
Not road damage, Elias finished quietly. Victoria straightened, her expression cooling into something sharper than irritation.
Could it fail immediately? She asked.
Elias shook his head. No.