The deeper investigators dug, the worse the design became.
Raven Six was never supposed to fail on the pad.
That was the conclusion Reed’s technical team reached after reviewing the fuel batch, maintenance logs, and timing. The contaminant was not obvious enough to trigger a standard low-level inspection. It was not placed crudely. It was subtle, hidden inside replacement stock that entered through an approved supplier, passed through logistics, and carried Vale’s authority.
A routine check might miss it.
A careful technician might notice something wrong.
Yoro noticed.
That was the first problem for Vale.
The second problem was that Yoro did not simply log it and walk away. He preserved a sample, took a photo, and acted on the forged emergency directive. Whoever sent that directive may have intended to control him. Drain the helicopter, isolate it, remove the fuel, erase the contaminated batch before anyone could prove it had been dangerous.
But Yoro kept enough evidence.
That made him dangerous.
The technical report was blunt: if Raven Six had launched under full mission load, the aircraft could have suffered catastrophic failure in flight. The exact timing could not be guaranteed, but the risk was severe enough that no responsible commander would have cleared the aircraft.
Oliver read that report alone.
Reed gave him the choice.
He could wait until the formal hearing. He could receive a summary. Or he could read the full technical review with the diagrams removed and the conclusions intact.
Oliver chose the full review.
He reached page three before his hands began shaking.
Not because the language was graphic. It was not. The report was cold, technical, and precise. That made it worse. It did not say Oliver almost died. It said the aircraft was unsafe for launch under mission conditions. It did not say Yoro saved him. It said emergency fuel removal prevented flight before the hazard could manifest.
Oliver stared at that sentence for a long time.
Emergency fuel removal prevented flight.
That was the official way to say the kid he attacked may have kept him alive.
When Reed entered the room, Oliver had not moved.
“You knew before the mess hall,” Oliver said.
“I suspected.”
“You could have told me enough.”
“No,” Reed said.
Oliver looked up, anger returning.
Reed continued. “Because someone was feeding you exactly enough to make you dangerous. If I gave you half the truth, Vale would have used the other half.”
Oliver stood so fast the chair scraped back.
“Do not make this sound like strategy. My brother died.”
Reed’s voice hardened for the first time.
“Yes. And Vale used that death to turn you against the witness your brother tried to protect.”
Oliver stopped.
Reed placed Miles’s transcript on the table again.
Don’t let them blame the kid.
Oliver looked away.
There was no defense left.
Only the unbearable knowledge that Miles had seen the truth more clearly while dying than Oliver had while alive.