“Because he was senior security.”
“That isn’t a reason.”
“No.”
She looked down.
“I was afraid of becoming part of the dispute.”
Charlotte asked:
“Did you believe Logan was lying?”
“No.”
“Then what did you believe?”
“That it wasn’t my job to decide.”
Logan, standing near the wall, looked at her.
“That’s how unsafe systems survive.”
Abigail nodded.
“I know.”
Dominic returned briefly.
He had spoken with outside counsel.
His recommendation:
Contain the issue.
Complete internal review.
Avoid language suggesting intentional suppression until legal strategy was established.
Charlotte listened.
Then asked:
“Did you know about Logan’s report?”
Dominic hesitated.
Connor answered:
“He didn’t.”
Dominic looked at him.
Charlotte noticed.
“Dominic?”
“I knew there were concerns.”
“Did you read them?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Connor said they were operational resistance.”
Charlotte almost laughed.
Instead:
“Everyone keeps telling me who told them not to look.”
No one answered.
Connor finally stepped forward.
“This is being distorted.”
Charlotte looked at him.
“Explain.”
“Mercy Line is rogue architecture.”
Logan shook his head.
Connor continued.
“It gives a low-level system layer authority over executive security command.”
“It can override containment.”
“It is fundamentally incompatible with controlled environments.”
Logan said:
“Only when people are trapped and environmental risk crosses safety thresholds.”
Connor pointed.
“That is still an override.”
“Yes.”
“Exactly.”
Logan looked at him.
“Security that cannot release people in danger is not security.”
“It is a cage.”
Connor said:
“You built yourself permanent control.”
“No.”
“I built a condition where nobody has permanent control over human egress.”
Connor gestured toward the monitor.
“Your name appeared.”
Jason raised one hand.
“That was me.”
Everyone looked.
Jason took a breath.
“I wrote the line.”
Connor stared.
“What?”
“Years ago.”
“Test branch annotation.”
“After Logan fixed the original lockdown flaw.”
“I forgot it was there.”
Charlotte looked at him.
“Logan still holds the key.”
Jason nodded.
“It wasn’t literal.”
“It meant he understood what the system was supposed to protect.”
Connor’s argument collapsed slightly.
He recovered.
“Convenient.”
Jason turned the screen.
“No external access.”
“No remote intervention.”
“No post-termination command.”
“Mercy Line triggered internally.”
“Exactly as designed.”
Charlotte looked toward Logan.
“Did you know it would trigger tonight?”
“I knew B7 could create the conditions.”
“That’s why you warned Jason.”
“Yes.”
“Why not tell me more directly?”
Logan stared.
“I filed forty-three pages.”
That ended the question.
At 2:37 in the morning, Connor Vail was suspended.
Formal.
Administrative.
Immediate.
Charlotte signed.
His credentials were revoked at the same console he had used to terminate others.
Connor watched his access indicator turn gray.
He looked at Logan.
“You think this makes you important?”
Logan looked exhausted.
“No.”
Connor smiled bitterly.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“No.”
“Liar.”
Logan thought about the B7 crew.
The woman behind the B5 glass.
Ella asking if someone was stuck.