“Are you insane? You’re implicated in all of it.”
“No. Not really. God’s Eye was your baby. So were its uses. That audit you had me conduct? There was a lot Perkins could have gotten. But he didn’t have everything. We’ll rebuild. But we’ll be more sensible this time. More discriminating. More discreet. Ted, don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Please.”
“Like hell you’ll rebuild. You think I don’t know? I know everything. Everything!”
Remar looked at Jones.
Jones nodded and said, “Take him.”
Two of the men came forward and grabbed the director by the arms. He started to struggle, but the men barely seemed to notice. “Marvin!” he shouted. “Marvin, stop them!”
Marvin watched, his face as still as stone.
“Keep him in the car for a minute,” Remar said to the men. “I need to talk to these people.”
Jones walked back to the Suburban. The men followed him, dragging the director inside. He was shouting that he was going to burn them, burn them all. Evie was glad that, the way she was holding him, Dash couldn’t see any of it. Still, he was gripping her tightly, obviously badly frightened.
The Suburban’s doors closed, and the director’s shouting was abruptly cut off. Remar walked over. “Marvin. Evie. I apologize for all of this. No one wanted any of it to happen.”
Evie was afraid to respond. She looked up at Marvin, but his expression remained unreadable.
Remar smiled a little sadly. “Let’s face it. The director went too far. He was at sea so long, he lost sight of land. Lost sight of the purpose, you understand?”
“No,” Evie said cautiously, straightening and turning back to him. “Not exactly.”
Dash clung to her leg. He might not have understood all the words, but he’d sure as hell picked up the gist.
Remar nodded. “Well, it doesn’t really matter. I’m a realist, and so is Jones. We’ll make things better. And I can tell you’re a realist, too.”
“What are you telling me?” Evie said. “That you expect me to keep my mouth shut? What difference does it make? The Intercept has the thumb drive.”
“Yes, they do, and they’ll publish what’s on it. We’ll ride it out. We’ve been through storms before.”
“What about Hamilton? And Perkins? And Delgado, planting that bomb? How are you going to spin all that?”
“Conspiracy theories.”
His confidence was unnerving. It made her want to shake him up, prove him wrong.
“There’s camera footage,” she said warily.
He nodded almost sadly. “You don’t have to worry about that. It’s being taken care of. So there’s no proof of anything. Well, that’s not entirely true. You could corroborate a lot. And if the director were in a position other than facedown in the back of that Suburban, you know how he would handle that possibility. But that’s the old way. It isn’t my way.”
She waited, and he went on.
“It’s true you know things, Evie, that we’d really rather not have publicly aired. And not just Perkins and Hamilton. Things like the director being behind the DC bombing. Of course, if you talk about any of it, it could implicate Manus.”
He looked at Marvin, then back to Evie. “Had you considered that?”
She said nothing. It felt like he was circling her, boxing her in, tying her up. So he could deliver some sort of coup de grace.
“And not just Manus,” he went on. “It could implicate you, as well.”
There it was, then. “In what?”
“In criminal conduct. That camera network? Severe Fourth Amendment violations. Your work has been an integral part of God’s Eye, an integral part of the files we assembled on various influential Americans. Senators. Judges. Those kinds of people. The same files I’m going to use to protect the system now. If your involvement came out — and please believe me when I assure you it would — you’d be investigated by the Justice Department. Could you afford that? Could your boy manage with you doing life in a federal prison, much of it in solitary?”
It was horrible. He had her. He knew exactly what buttons to press.
“Why not come back to work, instead?” he said. “I meant it when I said new management. No more cloak-and-dagger. No more killing. I’m going to run things differently.”
“You think you’re going to be the new director?”
He touched the scar tissue below his eye patch. “I think there’s a chance.”
“You must have something on the president.” She’d meant it to be flip, but the moment it came out, it felt anything but.
“Evie, we have something on everyone. The problem isn’t what we have. The problem is how the director was using it. We’ll fix that, as I said.”
“You call that democracy?”
He sighed. “Let’s not be naïve. We’re not subverting democracy; democracy was subverted a long time ago. I wish it weren’t so, I really do. But you can’t work in this town as long as I have and not see it. Not unless you’re willfully blind. And all right, I may be missing an eye, but I’m not blind.”
He shook his head and looked over at the Suburban, then back to Evie. “Sad as it is, it’s really not complicated. We compete against various interests, mostly corporate interests, and if you look at it realistically, you’ll see we’re the better alternative. The choice here, the choice for realists, isn’t NSA management versus democratic management. It’s NSA management… or corporate management. And believe me, you don’t want the corporations running the show all by themselves. We’re not exactly Thomas Jefferson, okay, that ship has sailed, but we’re not complete slaves of mammon, either.”
He turned to Marvin. “I’m sorry about the director, Marvin. If you like, you’ll always have a place with me. I hope you know that. Or, if you prefer, a generous severance. The same goes for you, Evie. I believe in live and let live. For people who believe the same about me.”
Marvin said nothing. Remar looked at him, and Evie thought she saw something pained in his expression. Almost mournful.
“I have a feeling you’d like a moment alone with your former boss, Marvin. Am I correct?”
Marvin looked at the Suburban. “Yes. You’re correct.”
Remar nodded. “Take as much time as you need.” He turned and walked back to the Suburban. “Let him out,” he called.
A rear door opened, and two men dragged the director out and released him. “You think I’m done?” he shouted. “You think I don’t know people? I don’t know things? You can’t do this to me. I know everything. And I’ll spill all of it! I’ll tear this city apart!”
Remar and Jones got back in the Suburban. Their men followed suit.
“Where are you going?” the director shouted. “You’re not done with me! You’ll see!”
The Suburban pulled away. Suddenly the area was very quiet.
Evie squatted and kissed Dash’s cheeks. His eyes were closed. She stroked his hair and he looked at her.
It’s okay, she signed. It’s okay, my beautiful boy.
She saw Marvin, watching them. Tears were running down his face. He turned and looked at the director.
“Marvin,” the director said, his voice unsteady. “I’m so sorry for all this. For all these… misunderstandings.”
Marvin turned back to Evie. I need a minute.
It made her uneasy, but she didn’t see that she had much choice. She signed to Dash, Come on, hon. Let’s give Mr. Manus some privacy.
Dash started crying, too. He had sensed the danger, and had been keeping it together. Now that it was past, the tears were flooding through. She expected she would have a similar reaction. But not now. Later, when she could start getting her mind around everything that had happened.