Harper
Calloway made us sign actual paperwork. In triplicate.
Temporary investigative clearance, stamped and filed and countersigned by Sherman, who looked about as thrilled as a cat who'd just been handed the keys to the aquarium.
"I'll be monitoring remotely," she said, tapping her tablet without looking up. "Bond metrics included."
"Of course you will," I muttered.
Within twenty minutes we had badges, access codes, and a ticking clock that made my teeth itch every time I thought about it.
I was still riding the tiny high of having clearance for once when Vane killed the mood. He'd been reading the authorization document the way most people read a bomb disposal manual, and when he set it down, his jaw had that locked-tight look I'd learned to pay attention to.
"What."
"This leve
