"The left column is every time Mr. Voss approved a change to the air data documentation," Caleb said. His voice was calm, almost gentle. "The right column is every time the flight software was modified. There are seven approvals. There are seven modifications."
He pointed.
"July 9th, 2:14 in the afternoon, approval. 2:31, code change. August 20th, approval at 10:50, code change at 11:06. It happens every single time. Within 20 minutes. Always after his signature. Never before."
He clicked once more.
"And the account that pushed each of those code changes was created on the same day Mr. Voss requested an administrator login from the information technology department. Using his employee ID."
The lobby erupted in murmurs.
Dorian's composure cracked all at once. He took a step toward Caleb, pointing, his voice climbing.
"Who do you think you are? You're a maintenance tech. You check tire pressures. You sweep the hangar floor. You don't get to stand up there and pretend you understand avionics architecture."
Caleb set the remote down on the table. He didn't raise his voice.
"That's right," he said. "I'm a maintenance tech."
He paused.
"But I can read a system."
For a moment, nobody breathed.
Then Mara Ellison stepped out of the crowd and walked to the front of the room. She was pale, and she didn't try to hide it.
"I need to say something," she said. "I signed Mr. Mercer's termination. I read his file that morning. I saw his history. I saw that it didn't make sense. A man with that record, being fired for helping someone."
She took a breath.
"I signed it anyway, because Dorian told me it was procedure. And I believed that following procedure was the same thing as doing the right thing. It isn't. I know that now."
She turned to face Caleb directly.
"I'm sorry. I truly am."
Caleb looked at her for a long moment.
There was no triumph in his face. Only a kind of tired kindness.
"You don't need to apologize to me," he said. "Just make sure the next person who tells the truth around here doesn't have to pay for it."
Mara nodded slowly and stepped back into the crowd.
That was when the lobby doors opened, and a young investigator from Keller's team came through at a near run, cheeks red from the cold.
He crossed the room and pressed a small black data drive into Vivien's hand. He leaned in close, but in the silence, his words carried.
"We finished recovering the deleted email archive. We found who's behind Mr. Voss."