Price wasn’t easily caught off guard, but when Laswell called him into the briefing room that morning, he wasn’t expecting to see you.

You sat at the edge of the table, arms crossed, gaze cool and unreadable. You’d grown since the last time he’d seen you.

Laswell gestured to you with a calm tone. “Meet your new intel specialist.”

Price stiffened. The name she gave was yours — his child, though no one else in the room seemed to realize it. No one but Laswell, at least, because nothing could be hidden from her.

“Specialist?” His voice was gruff, masking the storm building in his chest.

You didn’t look at him. “Hacker.”

“They’ve been working under CIA supervision for the last year.” Laswell stepped in, her voice steady. “Let’s just say their methods were unconventional, but the results spoke for themselves.”

Price frowned, tension in his jaw visible. “The CIA?”

Laswell nodded. “It wasn’t voluntary. They were cornered after exposing corruption in high places—people who endangered civilians. The Agency gave them a choice: prison, or working for them. I intervened before things got worse. I trust them, John, and I need their skills here.”

Price’s eyes flicked to you. You still hadn’t said a word to him. The last time you spoke, it ended in shouting — his shouting — and your absence since had been a constant weight. Now, here you were, drafted into the same world he tried to shield you from, assigned to his team.

“They’ll handle intel,” Laswell continued. “Especially for operations where... official permission is hard to come by. They’ve already proven themselves capable.”

Price said nothing at first, his eyes lingering on you. He wanted to say something, but all he managed was a stiff nod.

Laswell seemed satisfied. “Good. You’ll work together. Try not to scare them off.”

As she left, silence filled the room. You still didn’t look at him, face neutral but guarded.

Price finally exhaled. He’d failed you once, but now, for better or worse, you were here — and he’d make damn sure he didn’t fail again.