Chapter 63: Preston

Undefined Conviction

Chapter 63: Preston

The man who showed up at Halden's office two days before departure wore a suit that cost more than everyone else's combined mission budget and introduced himself before anyone had asked, extending a hand with the specific overconfident grip of someone who'd clearly practiced handshakes in a mirror until he'd perfected the exact right amount of pressure to seem commanding.

"Preston Vance. Kessington Strategic Assets." He shook Cole's hand, holding it a half-second longer than necessary. "I'll be joining the operation. Kessington's invested considerably in your development, Mr. Vale, and an asset of your value doesn't walk into an unmapped hostile zone without proper oversight."

"An asset," Cole repeated, already regretting every word coming out of this man's mouth.

"Figure of speech. Mostly." Preston smiled, unbothered, clearly having encountered pushback before and developed a full immunity to it, the specific smile of a man who'd built an entire career on being impossible to insult effectively. "I've reviewed your tactical plan, incidentally. Amateurish, but serviceable for a group your age. I've made some adjustments."

Dana's expression went dangerously flat. "Adjustments."

"We'll approach from the eastern boundary instead of the western gap your unlicensed consultant identified. Cleaner sightlines for Kessington's documentation team."

"Documentation team," Thessaly said, arriving mid-sentence with the specific timing of someone who'd clearly already heard enough through the door to have formed an opinion, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in a way that promised this conversation was about to get considerably less pleasant for Preston.

"Kessington wants footage. Reasonable request, given the resources we're committing." Preston straightened his tie, entirely unbothered by the four increasingly hostile expressions now aimed directly at him. "This is a documented Category Zero asset entering a historically significant recovery site. That's marketing gold, frankly, and I'd be failing my job if I didn't capitalize on it properly."

"This is a rescue mission," Dana said, voice tight enough to cut glass. "For my sister. Not a corporate photo opportunity."

"It can be both. Efficient use of resources, really." Preston pulled out a tablet, scrolling through something with the specific unbothered confidence of a man who genuinely believed he was contributing rather than actively endangering everyone in the room. "I've also taken the liberty of adjusting the timeline. We'll depart Thursday instead of this weekend. Gives the film crew proper time to prepare equipment."

"We planned for this weekend specifically," Cole said, feeling patience he'd worked hard to cultivate over the last six months evaporating at an alarming rate. "Patrol gaps, moon cycle, everything's timed around this weekend."

"I'm sure your unlicensed consultant's calculations were adequate for amateur purposes. Kessington's operational team has reviewed and improved the schedule."

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Thessaly's jaw tightened, the specific tightness of a professional watching an amateur casually dismiss decades of hard-earned expertise. "I've worked two restricted zones. What's your operational team's actual field experience?"

"They're very good with logistics."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the answer you're getting." Preston smiled again, entirely oblivious to the specific danger radiating off nearly everyone in the room. "Look. I understand this feels like an intrusion. But Kessington's put considerable resources behind Mr. Vale's development, and resources come with reasonable expectations attached. I'll be accompanying the mission. That's not actually up for negotiation."

Halden, watching from her doorway with the specific weary expression of someone who'd already fought this battle upstream and lost, finally spoke.

"He's got sign-off from Kessington's board and a tentative nod from Ministry liaison staff," she said, quiet, apologetic. "I fought it. I lost. Corporate sponsorship comes with strings, and this is apparently one of them."

"He's going to get someone killed," Dana said, once Preston had left to "coordinate logistics" with a film crew none of them had asked for.

"Probably," Cole agreed. "Doesn't mean we let him. Just means we plan around his nonsense the same way we plan around everything else dangerous in our lives lately."

"He moved the departure date. Changed the approach route. He doesn't know the first thing about what's actually waiting out there."

"No. He doesn't." Cole exhaled slowly, feeling the specific exhaustion of dealing with a problem that couldn't be solved by punching it, however satisfying that particular fantasy currently felt. "But he's got corporate backing, which means fighting him directly just gets us replaced with someone worse. We manage him instead. Let him have his footage and his eastern approach on paper. Actually do the mission our way, quietly, and let him discover the difference somewhere he can't do real damage with the discovery."

Thessaly studied Cole a long moment, something approving flickering behind her usual composure. "That's considerably more strategic than I expected from someone your age."

"I contain multitudes. We've established this. Repeatedly. In multiple people, apparently."

"He's going to be insufferable the entire trip," Reeve said, with the specific dread of someone who'd already resigned himself to weeks of exactly that. "I can already tell. He's the kind of guy who explains things you already know, slowly, like you're the one who's confused."

"Then we survive it," Marek said, arriving late to the conversation but catching up fast. "Same as everything else this year. Annoying corporate liaison included."

Nobody argued, mostly because nobody had a better option currently available. Preston's voice carried faintly from down the hall, already instructing someone about "optimal lighting conditions" for whatever footage he imagined this mission was actually going to produce, entirely unaware of how thoroughly he'd just made himself the least popular person in a building full of people who'd survived considerably worse than his particular flavor of condescension.

"Thursday, then," Dana said finally, resigned. "His timeline, our actual plan. We'll adjust."

"We always do," Cole said, and let the mark beneath his collar settle into something quiet and patient, saving whatever satisfaction eventually came from Preston discovering exactly how unprepared his corporate confidence actually was for whatever waited past Sector Twelve's quiet, forty-year-old lie.

Vesper, quiet through most of the argument, finally spoke as the group started drifting apart to prepare. "You know he's going to do something reckless out there. Men like that always do, once the theory meets the actual ground."

"I know."

"And you're going to be the one who has to fix it."

"Probably." Cole managed a tired, genuine smile despite everything. "Feels like my whole job description this year, honestly. Somebody makes a mess, I clean it up, everybody acts surprised when it works out anyway. At least this time I've got advance warning the mess is coming."

"Small mercies."

"I'll take them where I find them."

[End of Chapter 63]