I knocked once and pushed the door open mid-meeting.
Bala didn't pause. His voice kept rolling, smooth and commanding, as I stepped inside. I crossed the room under the weight of several pairs of eyes and dropped into an empty chair near the back, the metal legs scraping sharply against the floor. The room smelled of fresh coffee and tension.
Max, Danny, Sherry, Ernesto, Rebecca, all of them sat with the specific posture of people who had already been briefed and were now receiving final details. Shoulders squared. Eyes focused. Hands resting on the table or in laps, still.
"Max and Danny, you know your field," Bala said, gesturing once with two fingers. "Sherry and Ernesto, your mission is clear."
He looked at me once. A single, measured glance, noting the late arrival and filing it away without comment.
"Who's catching Abram up?" he asked.
"I will," Sherry said immediately.
"I'll do it," Rebecca said, half a second behind her.
