Page 266 of Operation: Defiance

Through the back window, the garden continues. Raised beds. A cold frame. More of those purple flowers.

Brett stands in the middle of his living room like he’s forgotten he lives here. Like having two people show up on a Friday morning has left him completely off balance.

“Sit down,” Inara says. Her voice isn’t as sweet now.

“I don’t know who you think I am⁠—”

My hand slips into my pocket, and I run my thumb over Asher’s challenge coin. “You administered electroconvulsive therapy to detainees held at a black site in Centralia, Washington. That site stopped…existing…last night around eleven p.m.”

Brett sinks onto the couch next to Toby, and the color drains from his face. “How did you…”

“You wrote an incident report six years ago. A detainee who expired after the third session. It went to a man named Dr. Julian Voss. Not long after, Voss decided that was a very efficient way to dispose of detainees deemed compliance failures.”

Inara stands between the couch and the back door, arms loose at her sides. She hasn’t said a word since telling Brett to sit down. She doesn’t need to. Her presence is its own argument.

Brett flinches, and next to him, Toby lifts his tiny head. “Whatever you think you know⁠—”

“I know that if a detainee didn’t show sufficient cardiac instability after the third session, you sent an authorization request to Voss.” I keep my voice steady—steadier than I feel. “A request for secondary intervention to induce cardiac arrest by injection. I know that you’ve been the sole contractor responsible for administering ECT and those injections for the past five years.”

His hands are shaking. He clasps them together, and when that doesn’t work, shoves them under his thighs. “I can’t—” His voice breaks. “You don’t understand what he’ll do. He has me on camera. Killing people. And…I have—had—a family. They left, but Voss knows where they are. If I say anything, he’ll⁠—”

“Voss is finished. So is the program. There is no version of the next forty-eight hours in which Julian Voss retains enough power to hurt you. Or anyone. Ever again.” I let my words hang between us for a moment. “The only question remaining is what side of this you’re on when that happens.”

Brett stares at the floor, then reaches over to stroke the dog’s head. Toby makes a contented little noise and settles closer to his human.

“How do I know you can actually do that?” He lifts his gaze, hope filling his tired eyes. “Take him down.”

“I have your incident report. The very first one. I also have the original memo that created Coherent Path. And a copy of every disposal order Voss signed over the past six years. Ninety-seven of them.”

“Ninety-seven.” He whispers the words, then touches Toby’s head again. I’m not sure he even realizes he’s doing it. When he looks back up, his expression has changed. The suspicion is gone. What’s left is older and quieter and has been waiting a long time. “What do you want from me?” His voice is flat. Not hostile. Emptied out.

I ease myself onto the well-worn sofa. It might be old, but it’s immaculate, not a single thread out of place. “There’s a whistleblower organization called the Public Integrity Project working to expose GSD and dismantle Coherent Path for good. The more evidence they have, the better. I can put you in touch with them, and they’ll protect you until Voss is no longer a threat. But you’d need to give them your name. Testify…on the record. Your account of the protocol, the incident that started it, and what happened to the detainees who went through the disposal pipeline.”

He closes his eyes briefly. Opens them. Blinks several more times and swallows, hard. “If I do that⁠—”

“Voss goes to prison. Or worse,” Inara says from behind him, her voice quiet and certain and absolutely lethal. “Either way, he never touches anyone again.”

Brett looks at his hands for a long moment.

“I have notes,” he says finally. “Not official records. Personal ones. Dates, detainee IDs, what I administered.” He pauses, a tiny sob caught in this throat. “What happened after. I’ve kept them since the beginning. I had to do…something.” He stops and shakes his head. “Give me a minute, and I’ll get them for you.”

He disappears down the hallway. Toby watches him go, looks at us, then looks back at the hallway.

Inara moves silently, head cocked to one side, listening in case Brett decides to run. But after a moment, she nods, satisfied, and peers out the back door.

“This is the garden of a man carrying a fuckton of guilt that has nowhere to go,” she says softly. “He creates life where he can.”

I don’t ask her how she knows this. But…I find I want to. I settle for something safer. “Are you okay?”

Her shoulders loosen, and when she turns back to me, her expression is as unshakable as ever—until she smiles, and genuine warmth infuses her tone. “You know that’s what a friend would ask. Right?”

Before I can give her an answer, Brett returns with a composition notebook, the cover soft from handling. He holds it for a moment before he passes it to me. “It’s not much. We’re watched there. Well…we were watched there. But maybe it’ll help.”

“Thank you.” Two words aren’t enough for what he’s risking, but they’re the only two I have.

Inara passes him a card. “Call this number. Tell them Indigo said you need a safe place to land for the next forty-eight hours, some privacy, and video recording equipment. They’ll take care of you. And the pup.”

I force a swallow. This…is the hardest part. “When you give your testimony, I need you to do one thing for me. It might not make sense now, but it’s important.” At his nod, I continue. “I need two different videos. On the first one—where you document everything you did at Coherent Path—don’t mention Voss’s name. At all.”