James Rodriguez

You failed in basic safety protocols and now seek supernatural explanations to absolve your negligence.

I recognised the conversation had reached its inevitable conclusion.

Wilson would never acknowledge what we'd encountered.

His worldview had no framework for experiences that couldn't be quantified, monetised or controlled.

For the record, I said, what was David specifically instructed to find?

The question hung between us for 12 seconds.

That information remains proprietary.

Wilson's voice regained its business-like efficiency.

A courier will collect the satellite phone and any recovered samples within three hours.

Have everything ready for transfer.

The samples stay with Emily until proper scientific documentation is complete.

Wilson's laugh held genuine amusement this time.

You think you have leverage here?

I own the samples, the equipment, the research, and contractually, any intellectual property derived from the expedition.

You don't own the truth about what happened.

The truth, Wilson said with finality, is whatever narrative prevails.

Five dead from environmental toxin exposure and poor leadership creates a compelling legal narrative against you, Rodriguez.

Remember that before you and Dr. Johnson decide to promote alternative theories, the line disconnected.

I sat in the consultation room for six minutes, watching Fiji and hospital staff move efficiently through the routines beyond the glass walls.

Normal people.