The alert chimed on her work laptop. A soft, corporate sound that set Seraphine’s teeth on edge. An email. The subject line read: You’re Invited! Vireon Systems Q3 New Hires Mixer!

“Well, well. Your social calendar is filling up, Alexa,” Victoria’s voice chirped in her ear, the team having patched into her laptop’s audio. “Look at that, it’s even got a little confetti emoji. How festive.”

“A mandatory social function is a prime intelligence gathering opportunity,” Oracle stated, all business. “Soft intel, Artificer. Office politics are your new battlefield. Find the gossips, the disgruntled, the climbers.”

“And try to have a little fun,” Theo added. “My medical opinion is that you need to unwind. Just don’t actually unwind too much. I’m monitoring your vitals.”

The Vireon Systems atrium was transformed, though “transformed” was a generous term. A few paper lanterns were strung up, doing little to combat the soul crushing sterility of the place. Seraphine, clad in Alexa Cross’s best “approachable but professional” wrap dress circulated with a glass of predictably cheap pinot grigio, her smile feeling as plastic as the name tag stuck to her chest.

Her mission: infiltrate the gossip circles.

Her first target was a hive of activity near the makeshift bar a group from Marketing, their heads close together. She drifted over, inserting herself with a self deprecating smile.

“I’m so glad I’m not the only one who still doesn’t know where the good coffee machine is,” she said, holding up her glass of wine. “I’ve been surviving on the swill from the third floor breakroom.”

This earned a few sympathetic laughs. The ringleader, a woman with an impeccably sharp blonde bob named Chloe, took the bait. “Oh, honey, the one on five is the only one that doesn’t taste like burnt rubber. It’s a closely guarded secret. I’m Chloe, by the way.”

“Okay, she’s in,” Victoria murmured from the comms. “Feeding her background data now. Chloe Davies, Senior Marketing Manager, hates her boss, loves a good scandal. Prime gossip conduit.”

“So, Alexa, IT, right?” Chloe said, leaning in. “You’re the one who fixed the payroll scanner. You’re a hero. Brenda in Accounting was about to have an aneurysm.”

Alexa waved a dismissive hand. “Just lucky, I guess.”

“Ask about the IT Director,” Oracle prompted.

“Speaking of IT,” Alexa ventured, “what’s the deal with the IT Director? Is he… approachable?”

Chloe snorted into her wine. “Hendricks? He’s about as approachable as a brick wall. Thinks the firewall is his personal fortress. He threw a fit last month because someone in Legal used a non-approved cloud service to share cat memes. Ranted about ‘data sovereignty’ for an hour.”

“Bingo,” Cipher said. “That’s our in. Hendricks and his control complex are a vulnerability. We can use that.”

The conversation was flowing perfectly until a booming voice cut through the chatter.

“Making friends, I see!”

The group fell silent as Mr. Sterling, the SVP, materialized beside them, clapping a heavy hand on the shoulder of a terrified looking young man from the sales team. “This is the spirit! Integration! Collaboration!”

He then proceeded to tell a long, painfully unfunny story about a corporate retreat that involved a misplaced golf cart and a very angry swan. The group laughed on cue, a symphony of forced merriment. Alexa laughed along, her face aching.

“My professional medical opinion is that this story is causing me physical pain,” Theo commented. “Also, your cortisol levels are spiking again. Breathe, Alexa. You’re at a party.”

Mr. Sterling’s eyes eventually landed on her. “Ah, our new tech whiz! Enjoying the party, Alexa?”

“Very much, sir. It’s a great opportunity to meet everyone.”

“Good, good.” His gaze was avuncular, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We like team players here at Vireon.” He moved on, leaving a wake of relieved silence.

“That was a warning,” Oracle said, his voice low and serious. “He’s keeping tabs on you. Be careful.”

As the party began to wind down, Alexa found herself near the bar next to Eric Vance, who was nursing a single soda water, his massive frame looking profoundly out of place.

“Having fun, Eric?” she whispered.

His jaw tightened. “I’d rather be doing drills in the rain. A guy from Facilities just tried to explain the philosophical nuances of craft beer to me for ten minutes. I almost neutralized him.”

Alexa bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Bulwark is about to break a man over an IPA,” she whispered into her comm.

“Tell him I feel his pain,” Theo replied. “The canapés are an affront to gastroenterology everywhere. I’m running a spectral analysis from the feed, and I do not like the results.”

Just then, Chloe from Marketing sidled up to her again, her eyes wide with fresh gossip. “Okay, you’ll never believe what I just heard,” she hissed, pulling Alexa aside. “They say the reason Mr. Sterling is so paranoid about security is because of the ‘Incident’ last year.”

Alexa’s spy instincts prickled. “Incident?”

“This is it,” Oracle said, his voice sharp with focus. “Get the details.”

“Nobody knows for sure,” Chloe whispered dramatically. “But rumor is, someone high up like, founder’s inner circle high up tried to walk out with a hard drive full of data from Project Chimera. Security was totally overhauled after that. They’re terrified it’ll happen again.”

Alexa’s heart hammered against her ribs. Project Chimera. It had to be what Domanic had tried to steal.

“Wow,” she breathed, feigning shock. “That’s… insane.”

“Right?” Chloe said, satisfied with the reaction. “So if you see Hendricks looking twitchy, that’s why. The man lives in fear of a repeat.”

As Alexa finally stepped out into the cool night air, leaving the buzz of the party behind, the mission parameters had crystallized.

“Excellent work, Artificer,” Oracle said. “You’ve identified our key obstacle, Hendricks, and confirmed the target: Project Chimera. The pieces are coming together.”

“And I’ve got a new data stream to monitor,” Cipher added. “The Vireon internal gossip network is surprisingly robust. I’m in heaven.”

“My analysis confirms the canapés were indeed a biological hazard,” Theo reported solemnly. “I recommend a full decontamination protocol when you return to base.”

Alexa allowed herself a genuine smile, pulling her coat tighter. She had planted seeds, gathered intelligence, and navigated the shark tank. But as she walked away, she couldn’t shake the feeling of Mr. Sterling’s watchful eyes. He wasn’t just a boss; he was a player. And she had just landed squarely on his board.