CHAPTER 18: THE ASSIGNMENT
Logan's office. Friday afternoon. Week seven post-stroke.
I sat across from him, waiting. He'd summoned me an hour ago. No explanation. Just "My office. Three PM."
He finished reading whatever document had his attention. Set it aside. Looked at me.
"Management training program," he said. No preamble. "Starts Monday. Four weeks. You're going."
My stomach dropped. "Where?"
"Pennsylvania facility. Operations training. Learn how the real business works."
The Pennsylvania facility. Where the hostage situation would happen.
I knew this was coming. Had known since I'd woken up in this body six weeks ago. But knowing and experiencing were different things.
"Okay," I said.
Logan's eyes narrowed slightly. "That's it? No argument? No excuse?"
"You want me to argue?"
"I want to know why you're not arguing."
"Because it makes sense. I don't know operations. This teaches me operations. Pretty straightforward."
He studied me. Looking for the angle. The resistance. The thing he could use against me.
"You've been useful lately," he said finally. "The Vaulter catch. The reports. But you're still soft in areas. You don't know the ground-level business. How things actually run when you're not in a Manhattan tower."
"So this fixes that."
"If you don't fuck it up."
"I won't fuck it up."
Another long look. Then a grunt. "Good. Arrangements are made. You fly out Sunday. Report to facility management Monday morning."
"Understood."
"And Roman—" He leaned forward slightly. "This isn't a vacation. This is work. Real work. You embarrass me there, I'll hear about it."
"I won't embarrass you."
He waved me off. Dismissed.
I stood. Got to the door.
"Roman."
I turned back.
"You've surprised me," Logan said. Voice gruff. "Since the stroke. The questions. The instincts. The..." He gestured vaguely. "Whatever happened to you. Keep it up."
Not quite praise. But acknowledgment.
"Will do."
I left.
That evening, I called Gerri.
"Pennsylvania facility?" she said when I told her. "For management training?"
"Yep."
"That's actually good development. Ground-level operations knowledge. You'll learn things you can't learn from boardroom presentations."
"I know."
"You don't sound excited."
I stared out my apartment window at Manhattan. "Just... processing. Four weeks away from here. From everything I've been building."
"The building will still be here when you get back. So will the relationships."
"Will they?"
"Roman." Her voice softened. "Is something wrong?"
Everything. The hostage situation was coming. I knew it was coming. Couldn't stop it without revealing knowledge I shouldn't have. Couldn't refuse the assignment without destroying months of positioning.
I was walking into a crisis I couldn't prevent.
"No," I lied. "Just... going to miss the routine. The good coffee. You."
Silence on the line. Then: "I'll miss you too."
The admission surprised both of us.
"Four weeks isn't that long," she continued. "And you'll have your phone. We can talk."
"Yeah."
"You'll do well. You're better at this than you think."
"Thanks."
We talked for a few more minutes. Logistics. What I should pack. When I'd be back.
Normal conversation. Covering the fact that neither of us had acknowledged what we'd just admitted.
When I hung up, the apartment felt very empty.
Saturday, I packed.
Clothes for four weeks. Laptop. Files on the facility operations. Everything I'd need for extended time away from Manhattan.
I was folding a shirt when I saw it. Tucked in the back of the closet. A box of Roman's things—childhood photos, old report cards, the detritus of a life lived before I'd arrived.
I pulled it out. Opened it.
Photos on top. Young Roman at various ages. Family shots. Always the same expression: forced smile, terrified eyes.
One photo in particular caught my attention. Maybe eight years old. Standing next to Logan at some corporate event. Logan's hand on his shoulder. Roman's face carefully blank.
My body flinched. Automatic. Muscle memory.
The transmigrator didn't remember this photo being taken. But Roman's flesh did. Remembered the grip on his shoulder. The pressure to perform. The fear of disappointing.
I set the photo down. Closed the box. Put it back in the closet.
Those weren't my memories. Weren't my trauma.
But they were part of the body I inhabited. Part of the life I'd taken over.
And in four days, that body would be tested in ways I couldn't prevent.
The hostage situation. The facility workers who'd been screwed over by the company. The guns. The fear.
I knew how it ended in canon. Roman survived. But that was original Roman—broken, terrified, traumatized.
I wasn't original Roman.
Would that make it better? Or worse?
I didn't know.
All I knew was I couldn't refuse the assignment. Couldn't change the timeline that drastically. Had to go. Had to face it.
Had to hope Trauma Lock could handle what was coming.
Sunday morning. Airport.
I boarded the plane to Pennsylvania. Found my seat. Stared out the window as the plane taxied.
My phone buzzed. Kendall.
Heard you're going to PA. Good luck.
The olive branch, extended back. Small. Tentative. But there.
Me: Thanks. Don't burn the place down while I'm gone.
Kendall: No promises.
I smiled despite myself.
Another buzz. Greg.
Have a good trip! Let me know if you need anything!
Me: Will do. Keep your head down.
Greg: Always!
And finally, Gerri.
Be safe. Call if you need anything. Even just to talk.
Me: I will. Thank you.
The plane started moving. Picked up speed. Lifted off.
Manhattan receded below. The towers. The island. Everything I'd been building.
Four weeks at a facility in Pennsylvania.
And somewhere in those four weeks, men with guns would take hostages.
And I'd have to survive it.
The plane climbed higher. I closed my eyes. Felt Trauma Lock humming in the back of my mind. Dormant but present. Waiting.
Whatever happened, I'd handle it.
I had to.
The wounded king, heading into the storm.
Note:
Please give good reviews and power stones itrings more people and more people means more chapters?
My Patreon is all about exploring 'What If' timelines, and you can get instant access to chapters far ahead of the public release.
Choose your journey:
Timeline Viewer ($6): Get 10 chapters of early access + 5 new chapters weekly.
Timeline Explorer ($9): Jump 15-20 chapters ahead of everyone.
Timeline Keeper ($15): Get Instant Access to chapters the moment I finish writing them. No more waiting.
Read the raw, unfiltered story as it unfolds. Your support makes this possible!
👉 Find it all at patreon.com/Whatif0