Don didn't react visibly to the stares.
A moment later, Director Graham raised a hand. "Thank you two for joining us," he said, voice deep and even. "Please. Take your seats."
Don and Charles moved forward. Calm. Measured. They sat side by side in the lower row—no nameplates.
Just exposure.
Director Graham straightened in his seat.
"As you may know," he began, "the attacks on our city by the Green Thorns were unexpected. We were not prepared. If it weren't for your efforts—along with those of first responders at other sites—many more lives would have been lost."
A pause.
"However—"
Barclay cut in. "However," he snapped, "the public wants to know why their loved ones weren't restrained or made immobile. Why instead they were slaughtered brutally!"
He leaned forward. "You had no clearance to do what you did, and—"
"Deputy Director," Graham said sharply, frowning, "it would be wise to let them explain their side of the events before we blurt out our feelings. Don't you think?"
