Aiden didn't sleep much.
Not because he was anxious, but because he was planning. He replayed the hallway conversation in order, stripped it down to what mattered, and ignored everything that didn't.
They knew his name.
They knew his movement patterns.
They didn't want a scene.
That last part was leverage.
He left the hotel at 6:20 a.m., early enough to beat housekeeping but late enough to avoid looking like he was running. He didn't check out at the desk. He slid the key into the drop box and walked.
He changed clothes in a public restroom three blocks away. Different jacket. Different shoes. Same backpack. He didn't rush. He didn't linger.
He turned his phone on once he reached a busy intersection.
One bar. Stable.
No messages yet.
Good.
He picked the meeting location himself.
Not a café. Too casual.
Not an office. Too controlled.
Not the university hospital. Too symbolic.
He chose a municipal records building near the river. Old. Concrete. Multiple entrances. Public enough to discourage anything stupid, boring enough to avoid attention.
He sent a single text.
Records building on West 9th. Lobby. Noon. No entourage.
The reply came a minute later.
Understood.
That was it.
He turned the phone off again.
Aiden arrived early.
He sat on a bench across the street and watched the building for twenty minutes. Foot traffic was steady. A security guard did a slow loop every half hour. No unmarked cars idling nearby.
At eleven-fifty, a black sedan parked legally and shut off. Two people got out.
Keller and Dr. Simmons.
No third person.
That was a good sign.
Aiden crossed the street and entered through a different door. He took the stairs instead of the elevator and came out on the lobby level just as Keller and Simmons walked in from the main entrance.
They saw him immediately.
He didn't wave.
They approached at a normal pace.
"Morning," Keller said.
Aiden nodded once. "You said he wanted to meet. I didn't agree to travel."
"We didn't expect you to," Simmons said. She spoke calmly, like someone used to being ignored. "He's remote."
"That works," Aiden said. "Five minutes."
Keller checked his watch. "We can do five."
They moved to a seating area off to the side. No private room. No closed doors. People walked past without paying attention.
Aiden sat where he could see both exits.
Simmons took out a tablet and placed it on the table, screen down.
"No recordings," Aiden said.
She slid it back into her bag without comment.
Keller tapped an earpiece once. "We're set."
Aiden watched his hands.
Nothing else happened.
A moment later, Keller's phone vibrated. He answered, put it on speaker, and set it on the table.
"This is Brashear," a man's voice said. Calm. Neutral. No drama.
Aiden didn't respond immediately.
"You wanted to meet," he said finally. "Talk."
"Fair," Brashear replied. "I'll be direct. What happened at the construction site cannot be explained by gamma radiation alone."
Aiden leaned back slightly. "You haven't met me."
"I don't need to," Brashear said. "I've reviewed the structural data. The absence of blast residue. The deformation patterns. Gamma can't do that without secondary effects. There weren't any."
"So you think it's something else," Aiden said.
"I think it's gamma interacting with a stabilizing mechanism," Brashear replied. "Something that prevents dispersion."
Aiden looked at Keller. "Is he always like this?"
Keller didn't smile. "Yes."
"Good," Aiden said. He turned back to the phone. "What do you want?"
"Consent," Brashear said. "To talk. To measure. Not to contain."
Aiden let that sit.
"You understand why that's hard to believe," Aiden said.
"Yes," Brashear replied. "Which is why I'm not asking you to come to a facility."
"Then how do you want to measure?" Aiden asked.
"Indirectly," Brashear said. "Environmental response. Non-invasive readings. No blood. No confinement."
Aiden considered that.
"And if I say no?"
"Then others will step in," Brashear said. "And they won't ask."
That wasn't a threat. It was a statement.
Aiden respected that more than reassurance.
"Let's be clear," Aiden said. "I'm not joining anything. I'm not being classified. And if anyone goes near my family again, this ends."
"I've already put a stop to that," Brashear said. "It won't happen again."
Aiden's eyes narrowed. "You can't guarantee that."
"No," Brashear said. "But I can make it very expensive."
That earned him a second look.
Aiden nodded once. "Okay. Next condition. No trackers."
"Agreed," Brashear said.
"No escorts."
"Agreed."
"No public statements using my name."
"Already avoided," Brashear said.
Aiden looked at Simmons. "You writing this down?"
She shook her head. "No."
"Good," Aiden said. "Because if this turns into paperwork, I'm gone."
Keller nodded. "Understood."
Aiden checked his watch. "Two minutes."
Brashear didn't waste them.
"There's one more thing you should know," he said. "Your control isn't accidental."
Aiden didn't react.
"Most gamma mutations destabilize under stress," Brashear continued. "Yours didn't. That suggests prior containment at a cellular level."
"That sounds like a conclusion," Aiden said.
"It's a hypothesis," Brashear replied. "One I'd like to test carefully."
Aiden stood.
"Here's my counter," he said. "One session. Neutral location. You explain exactly what you're measuring and why. No surprises."
"Agreed," Brashear said.
"And after that," Aiden added, "you leave me alone."
There was a pause.
"As much as I can," Brashear said.
"That's the best I'll get," Aiden said. "Fine."
He turned to Keller. "You walk away first."
Keller stood. "Fair."
Simmons followed.
They left without another word.
Aiden stayed seated for thirty seconds, watching reflections in the glass. No one rushed him. No one approached.
He stood and left through a different exit.
The rest of the day was quiet.
Too quiet.
He walked the river path for an hour, changed direction twice, and took a bus across town. He didn't feel followed. That didn't mean he wasn't.
He rented a room for the night under another fake name and ate alone.
He checked the phone once.
No new messages.
That was intentional.
That evening, he reviewed the situation.
He hadn't surrendered.
He hadn't committed.
He'd slowed escalation.
That was a win.
But it also meant something else: he was now a known variable in a smaller circle. Fewer people, better informed.
Mistakes would matter more.
He set his alarm for early morning and lay back on the bed, eyes open.
Tomorrow wouldn't be about running.
It would be about seeing what Brashear actually knew—and what he was pretending not to.
And if the math didn't line up, Aiden was ready to disappear again.
Not dramatically.
Just effectively.
Because control, he'd learned, wasn't about power.
It was about choosing when not to use it.