Good.
She was not widely recognizable here.
The acquisition had been corporate news eighteen months earlier, but executives mostly existed in emails.
Ray approached.
“Jimmy?”
“Hey, Ray.”
“You're not supposed to be on property.”
Beth looked toward Jimmy.
He said:
“I know.”
Ray glanced at David.
“Who's this?”
Beth answered before anyone else.
“Elizabeth Crawford.”
Ray froze.
He looked again.
Then his eyes widened.
“Oh.”
Beth smiled politely.
“Good morning.”
Ray immediately straightened.
“I—yes, ma'am.”
“Please don't call anyone.”
His face became terrified.
Beth added:
“That's not a test.”
“Understood.”
She lowered the window farther.
“I need access to production.”
“Of course.”
“And Ray?”
“Yes?”
“If anyone asks whether you've seen me, you haven't.”
Ray stared.
Jimmy could almost see his moral dilemma.
Then Ray said:
“I clock out at noon.”
Beth smiled.
“Excellent.”
Gate opened.
Jimmy looked at her.
“You just recruited a sixty-two-year-old security guard into corporate espionage.”
“He seems adaptable.”
“He fishes with my uncle.”
“Even better.”
They entered.
Jimmy directed David toward maintenance parking.
Beth stepped out.
The plant noise reached them immediately.
Metal.
Compressors.
Forklifts.
Fans.
Industrial life.
Jimmy looked toward the building.
Something changed in his face.
Beth noticed.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Want to leave?”
“No.”
He walked.
She followed.
Inside, employees noticed him.
Then stopped.
A mechanic named Pete Alvarez approached.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Jimmy pointed toward Beth.
“Making bad decisions.”
Pete looked at her.
Beth extended a hand.
“Elizabeth Crawford.”
Pete stared.
Then slowly removed his dirty glove before shaking.
“Crawford Crawford?”
She smiled.
“Unfortunately.”
Pete looked at Jimmy.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“That is never true.”
Jimmy led them through the maintenance aisle.
Several workers watched.
Whispers began.
Beth said quietly:
“Word is spreading.”
“Then move.”
They reached Line Four.
The press was running.
Jimmy stopped dead.
The floor vibrated beneath his boots.
The machine cycled.
Once.
Twice.
Fast.
Too fast.
Jimmy’s face went pale.
“Shut it down.”
Pete looked toward the supervisor station.
“We can't.”
Jimmy turned.
“What?”
“Pike ordered no unscheduled shutdowns.”
Jimmy stepped toward the emergency control.
Pete grabbed his arm.
“You're not employed here anymore.”
Jimmy stared.
Beth walked past both.
She pressed the emergency stop.
The machine wound down.
Every worker in the area turned.
Alarm light flashed.
Supervisor rushed over.
“What the hell?”
Beth looked at him.
“What's your name?”
He stared.
“Who are you?”
“Elizabeth Crawford.”