Which wasn’t entirely a good thing. Yes, Peters had misused the agency. But the threat from violent abnorms was real. Maybe not every person Cooper had terminated was dirty. But plenty were. Without Equitable Services, there would be no one to contain them.
Not only that, but the video cleared John Smith of the Monocle. It turned him from a terrorist back into a freedom fighter, maybe even a hero. There were plenty of people who would look up to him. See him as a brave new voice. Maybe even a potential leader.
A scary thought. Smith had the intellect and acumen to lead. But Cooper didn’t trust the man’s heart. He’d admitted to planting bombs, to seeding viruses, to assassinating civilians. Smith was innocent of the Monocle, but he was plenty guilty.
Peters might well be right. Sharing this might well set the world on fire.
Of course, there’s another option.
Cooper could put the video to work for him. By threatening to leak it, he could blackmail President Walker. Take over Equitable Services himself, run the agency the way it was supposed to be run. He could sit in Drew Peters’s chair and make decisions the right way. Fight to prevent a war, instead of to prolong one.
It was a tempting thought. All his adult life, Cooper had fought to protect his country. First from external threats, in the army, and then from a much greater danger—its future. If straights and brilliants came to open conflict, it would be an unthinkably bloody affair, one that would literally turn fathers against sons and husbands against wives.
That would turn brothers against sisters. Would Kate and Todd someday have to take up arms against one another?
He couldn’t let that happen. That was why he had done everything he had done. The good and the bad, the righteous and the misdirected. It had all been for that one belief—that somehow, some way, the children of this brave new world had to find a way to live together.
And if he used this instead of sharing it, he could help make that happen. Change the system from within.
Cooper looked up and out, at the velvety darkness of the Washington night. Low-bellied clouds shaded purple with light reflected off marble and monuments, off the machinery of government. Off a city that was supposed to stand for something.
From between massive columns, Abraham Lincoln stared out with a troubled expression. The bloodiest war in American history had happened on his watch, under his command. Could the country survive a second civil war?
He glanced at the clock on his d-pad. Time to go.
Truth or power?
Cooper thought of his children.
Then he pressed send, set the datapad on the bench, and left it there.
Maybe the world would burn. But if truth was all it took to start the fire, maybe it needed to.
Regardless, his part in this war was over.
Five minutes later, a cab dropped him in Shaw, on a quiet block of small row houses. Founded out of freed slave encampments, the neighborhood had once been the Harlem of DC—both the good Harlem and the bad Harlem—but in the last decades, gentrification had mixed things up, white professionals edging out blue-collar blacks. For good or bad, everything changed.
Cooper paid the driver and got out in front of a tidy Victorian. The ground floor windows were bright, and he could see shapes moving inside. Quinn was leaning against his car, spinning an unlit cigarette. “You made it.”
“Yeah. Took the scenic route.”
“And Peters?”
“His route was scenic, too. But a whole lot faster.”
“Been waiting to say that?”
“Little bit. My family?”
“Inside. I’ve been out here the last hour, haven’t seen any signs of trouble.”
“Shannon? You said she was hurt.”
“Yeah, a nasty hit to the side of the head. Her ear’s all bloody, but she’s okay.” Quinn smiled. “She’s pretty pissed off about it, actually. I think the girl really believed she was invisible.”
“She’s damn close.”
“That she is. Speaking of which.” Quinn reached into his pocket, pulled out a stamp drive similar to the other one. “The security footage from 900. All cameras from half an hour before we arrived through departure. I wiped the local drives before I left. We’re invisible too.”
“You’re a goddamn wonder, Bobby.”
“Don’t you forget it.” His partner put the cigarette between his lips, then took it out again. “So what do you think? Will the agency cop to what happened?”
“I doubt it. I’m sure some public relations bright boy is working on the cover story now.”
“‘Director Drew Peters, infuriated by modern aesthetics, in protest shot up a graphic design company before hurling himself off the roof.’”
“Something like that.” Motion caught his eye. The front door opening, and two figures stepping out. “We’re safe here?”
“The house belongs to a friend of a friend, no connection.” Quinn followed his gaze, saw Shannon and Natalie on the porch. The two women were talking, but even from here Cooper could read the stiffness in their postures, the awkwardness between them. Ex-wife and new…whatever she is.
Quinn seemed to see the same. “Yikes. That looks awkward. Better go before the knives come out.”
“Yeah.” He started up the walk, turned back. “Bobby? Thanks. I owe you one.”
“Nah,” Quinn said, and smiled. “You owe me a lot more than one.”
Cooper laughed.
On the porch, Natalie tensed to see him. He could read her thoughts, same as ever. Could see the happiness in her, the relief that he was safe, and the anger over what she’d been put through in the last six months. Shannon had gauze on her ear and blood on her shirt. Her usually fluid posture was rigid.
“Hey,” he said, looking from one of them to the other.
“Are we safe?” Natalie asked.
“Yes.”
“It’s over?”
“Yes.”
“You’re coming back to us?”
“Yes,” he said, and saw Shannon stiffen further. “I guess I don’t have to introduce you two?”
“No,” Natalie said. “Shannon took care of that. She’s amazing.”
“I know.” He let his eyes linger on the fine bones of her face. “You both are. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
He didn’t really know what to say after that, and apparently neither of them did either. Natalie crossed her arms. Shannon shifted her weight from one foot to the other. After a moment, she said, “Well. I’ll get out of here, let you be with your family.” She held out a hand to Natalie. “It was nice to meet you.”
Natalie looked at her, and at her outstretched hand. Then she stepped past it and wrapped her arms around the other woman. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
Shannon nodded, returned the embrace a little awkwardly. “Yeah. Your children are beautiful.”
“And alive, thanks to you.” Natalie held the hug a moment longer, then stepped back and said, “If you ever need anything, anything, don’t hesitate. Okay?”
“Okay.” She looked at Cooper. “See you around, I guess.” Then she slid off the porch and started down the walk.
Cooper watched her and then turned back to his ex-wife. To most people, her pose wouldn’t have given anything away, but he could read it all, a book he knew thoroughly. The honest gratitude coupled with the discomfort. It made sense; for the last six months, she had been living a nightmare, too, doing it for their children, the same as he had, and in some way, she must have been thinking of him as her partner in it. As a husband again, despite everything. It must have cut her to see the hints of his relationship with Shannon. And hurting her was the last thing he wanted to do. He’d explain, make it clear…