The meeting dissolved soon after.
Chairs shifted. People stood, gathered belongings, and filtered out in uneven clusters. Some spoke in low voices, others kept their heads down and moved with purpose.
The projected screen went dark behind Director Graham as the hall slowly emptied.
Don and Charles left together.
They moved through the corridors toward the helipad without breaking stride. Eyes followed them—curious, wary, speculative—but no one approached. Not even Frostbite, though Don caught her slowing near the exit, posture tight, like she might change her mind at the last second.
She didn't.
The air on the pad was cool as the helicopter powered up, rotors spinning into motion—whup… whup… WHUP~. They boarded and took their seats, doors sliding shut with a solid thud~.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Charles exhaled lightly and leaned back. "Well," he said, "that was sudden."
Don nodded as he settled in, adjusting his seat. "Too sudden, if you ask me."
