Allison
The garage smells like rubber and clean metal in the early crisp morning air. Engines idle softly as ops has the convoy boxed and labeled. A volunteer with a clipboard points me toward a "guest vehicle" staged near the bay door, a cream placard on the dash, tinted windows, and a driver I don't know.
"No," I say, calm. "I ride per manifest. SUV-3, row two." I hold up my badge so he can read the line he's trying to forget; Visitor/Ops (no recording).
Alpha Jack's voice comes from behind the lift like he timed it. "Guests use the guest car, Ms. Grey."
I meet his eyes. "Policy routes me with SUV-3. Training support rides with the team." He opens his mouth to turn that into a speech, but Ethan steps out from the toolkit with keys in hand and shuts it down without raising h
