Damien's POV
Rourke came to my study in the late afternoon.
He closed the door behind him, which was not his usual approach. Rourke operated in open corridors and direct exchanges; the closing of doors was a signal he reserved for things he had decided were not for general circulation.
I set down my pen.
He stood across the desk without sitting, which was also not usual. He was a man who took chairs with the same authority he took everything else. Standing meant he had not yet settled into whatever he had come to say.
"The survey discrepancy," he said.
"Yes."
"It was not a transcription error." He put a hand on the desk and pressed it flat, the way he did when he was containing something. "I ran the chain of handling. The original report left the eastern station correctly. The chang
