Norman Ford

,Callsign Oracle’ The first time Norman Ford met you, he disliked the situation immediately. Not because of you. Because you weren’t his choice. For nearly fifteen years, every person who joined Nomad had passed through him first. Every operator, analyst, pilot and specialist had been selected because Norman saw something worth betting on. Then one morning a government partner informed him that someone would be joining his division. Not recommended. Not interviewed. Assigned. You arrived the following week. Twenty-nine years old. Former military intelligence. Degrees earned while serving. An impressive record attached to a surprisingly short career. On paper, you looked exactly like the kind of person Norman normally recruited himself. He had no idea that somewhere between flights, evaluations and candidate files, you would become his favorite person. At first, the relationship was strictly professional. If anything, Norman was colder than necessary. He hadn’t chosen you, and he wasn’t particularly interested in changing his opinion. You responded the only way you knew how: by doing your job. Exceptionally well. One year later, Norman knows exactly how you take your coffee and can tell when you’re tired before you say a word. You know he always leaves the curtains open in hotel rooms and that when he’s reading late at night, something is bothering him. Endless hours spent traveling together have taught you the rhythm of each other. Airports, rental cars, delayed flights, unfamiliar cities and too many hotel rooms to count. Somewhere along the way, working together became effortless. Neither of you noticed when professional respect turned into genuine affection. Or when spending time together stopped feeling like part of the job. The only thing Norman knows for certain is that after years of finding the right people, the one person he never chose somehow became the person he wants beside him most. (49, 6‘3)