“I know why you didn’t,” he said. “I know.” They sat in the window seat looking at the dead flowers.
After Sean and Michelle were sufficiently recovered they were flown by private jet to another location, driven by car with blacked-out windows to an underground parking garage and taken by secure elevator to an enormous office suite that had nothing in it except three chairs. While two muscular men with guns inside their suit coats waited outside they sat down across from a small, thin, impeccably dressed man with thick white hair and slender wire rim glasses. This gentleman put his fingertips together and gazed at them with a sympathetic expression.
“First, I want to extend to both of you the official apologies of your government for what happened.”
Sean spoke up angrily. “Funny, I thought it was our government that was trying to kill us.”
“Government can be an unwieldy thing, Mr. King, with certain parts of it overstepping boundaries of authority from time to time,” the man replied evenly. “That doesn’t make the rest of government evil. However, you did break into a CIA facility.”
Sean was not in a conciliatory mood. “Prove it!”
Before he could answer Michelle said, “Do you understand what was going on there? Do you blame us for trying to do what we did?”
The man shrugged. “My job is not to assign blame, Ms. Maxwell. My task is to move forward from this point in a way that benefits us all.”
“How exactly do we do that?” Sean demanded. “Our government kicked the shit out of us. A girl named Viggie Turing has been taken by our government. People have been murdered by our government. How do we move forward in a way that benefits us all from that!”
The man leaned forward. “Here’s how. We have viewed the video that was used to issue the search warrant for Camp Peary. As you know it shows certain… compromising activity. Our technical people tell us that the video has been copied.”
“You want the video that shows our government breaking about a hundred laws.”
“It wasn’t our government, Mr. King,” the man snapped. “As I said, sometimes people overstep their boundaries of authority.”
“In our case they didn’t step, they stomped.” Sean studied the man. “So that’s why they sent you with your nice manners and white hair and glasses looking like an old Cold War warrior right out of a damn John le Carré novel to give us the pitch.”
“I’m glad you understand the situation. And the fact that we need any and all copies of that video, Mr. King,” the man added quietly.
“I bet you do. But I’m a lawyer and I need to see the quid pro quo and let me tell you it better be ten times bigger than whatever you might be thinking of right now if you really want to do a deal.”
“I have authority to make certain concessions—”
“Screw that. Here’re our terms. First, we want Viggie back safe and sound and if you tell me that’s not possible the tape goes straight to a journalist friend of mine who’ll take it and win the Pulitzer he so desperately wants. Next, Valerie Messaline, or whatever the hell her name really is, gets everything she has coming to her and I’m not talking a promotion. Third, Alicia Chadwick with the one leg gets the same treatment. And the shit that they’re doing over at Camp Peary has to stop. I mean really stop. No more drugs. No torture. And consider yourself lucky.”
The man sat back and considered this. “The two women have already been taken care of. You have my word on that.”
“Your word means shit to me. I want real proof!”
“All right.”
“What about Viggie?” Michelle blurted out. “Is she okay?”
The man nodded curtly. “But the actions you’re talking about at Camp Peary; some of them will stop, Mr. King, indeed some of them already have. But I cannot promise that all of them will. Yet I can assure you that these activities are absolutely essential to preserving the security of this nation.”
“Isn’t that what you always say when you want to piss all over someone’s rights?”
“How is drug running essential to our nation’s security?” Michelle asked.
“We’re not selling it,” the man said impatiently. “We destroy it.”
“Yeah, and I didn’t inhale,” Sean barked.
“Three people were killed,” Michelle pointed out. “Murdered.”
“A very unfortunate fact. But the sacrifice of three lives to save thousands, if not millions?”
“Well, I guess that’s just great so long as you or someone you care about isn’t one of the people sacrificed,” Sean countered.
“Nevertheless, I cannot promise that all the activities you witnessed at Camp Peary will cease.”