Timeline: TC1853.02.15 (Evening)
Location: Blackhawk Guild Fortress, Seventh Ring
Cooper stood in Commander Drake's office, feeling the weight of her pale gray eyes assessing him with the kind of scrutiny that had built the Blackhawks into what they were—sharp, thorough, missing nothing.
The silence stretched as she circled him slowly, not predatory but clinical. Professional evaluation of evidence that contradicted everything her decades of experience told her should be possible. She'd touched his arm already, verified the muscle tone and skin elasticity. Now she was processing.
"Sit," she said finally, returning to her desk.
Cooper settled into the chair across from her, aware of Thorne standing at parade rest near the window. His commander—his friend—had laid everything out. Now it was Cooper's turn to convince Drake they weren't contamination-addled madmen seeing visions in poisoned air.
