Page 84 of Victorious

But EOs were uncharted territory.

All the more reason they needed to be studied, understood. If he could just convince them he was there to help. An ally, not an enemy. If he could convince even one. It would be a start.

Frustration welled, like pressure, in his head.

And then on its heels: epiphany.

He needed an EO who had never seen him—or EON—as an enemy.

Gabriel sat up.

“Where is Rios?” he asked, remembering the EO agent he’d interviewed on his first day, the soldier who served by choice. Helena informed him that she was still on mission. He was about to order her called back when the former director added that Agent Harris had just returned to base.

Gabriel nodded. “Call him in.”

“Sir,” said Noah, standing at attention. He looked at Helena Roy. “Ma’am.”

It made sense, thought Gabriel, that the two EOs the late Director Stell had tapped to serve EON were both ex-military. He’d treated soldiers before, and while no two patients were ever the same, they tended to share a common core. A desire to follow. To be led.

Dr. Gray gestured to the chairs. “Take a seat.”

The soldier did as he was told.

Gabriel took the seat across from him, pencil tapping out its rhythm on his knee.

On top of that, Gabriel had read Noah Harris’s file.

He knew the man had served seven years in a black ops unit. Knew that he was the only member of his team to make it out. Alive, but not unchanged.

“I know what you are,” he said. Noah’s hand tensed on the chair. “Rest assured, the knowledge is safe with me. But I have to ask, when you discovered what had happened, what you’d become, why did you turn yourself in?”

Gabriel thought he knew the answer, but he wanted to hear the EO say it.

“I wanted…” Noah looked down at his hands, as if searching for the words. “I wanted to make it right.”

Atonement. It was a powerful force. “Make what right?” he urged.

“What happened. What I…” Noah trailed off, but that was fine. Gabriel understood. Survivor’s guilt hung like a lead weight around his shoulders, even though he bore it well.

“You wanted to use your new ability to help instead of hide. To serve, and protect, and prevent future tragedy.”

Noah gave a terse nod.

Gabriel sat forward. “Agent Harris, you gave your life for your country once. The question is, would you do it again?”

“Yes,” said Noah, the answer brisk and automatic.

Gabriel held up a hand. “I know you were a soldier.” Were—his use of the past tense had been intentionally provocative. As if on cue, a muscle ticked in Noah’s jaw. “And as such,” Gabriel pressed on, “you have a strong desire to serve. But in this room, it’s imperative that you be honest. With me. And with yourself.”

Noah straightened in his chair. “I have given, and would give, everything I have, and everything I am.”

Gabriel studied his face and nodded. “I believe you. That’s why I asked you here.” He turned the pencil between his fingers, weighing how much to say. Honesty was vital, but full transparency brought higher risk. In the end, he opted for the spirit of the truth.

“I have a vision for EON,” he said. “I want to remake this place. To better serve EOs like you.” He paused, then added, “And like me.”

Noah’s head jerked up at that. Gabriel smiled. This was how rapport was built. Small concessions, willingly offered. “I want to usher in a new era. And I thought I had the tools to make it happen on my own. But it turns out, I need help.”

The soldier leaned forward, willing, even eager. “What can I do?”