The national security adviser said, “I have to say, I don’t like the idea of his getting away clean.”

“Sir,” Hort said, “you can always pick him up later if that’s what you choose to do. I’d advise against it even later for the same reasons I’m advising against it now, but you could if you wanted to. What you can’t do is try to pick him up now, with that dead-man switch set to the kind of interval I know he’s programmed it for. Give him the diamonds, let him walk away and calm down. Eventually, having to worry about resetting that trigger every hour is going to get to be too much of a risk and too much of a pain in the ass. He’ll adjust it to every twenty-four hours, or every forty-eight. If you pick him up then, there’s a chance. Right now, there just isn’t.”

There was a long silence. The national security adviser said, “Have a jet ready tomorrow. With the diamonds.”

Hort said, “Yes, sir.” Ben heard the sounds of papers being shuffled, people getting up, and then the line went dead. He hit the end call button.

“I can’t believe they’re just going to give him the diamonds,” Paula said. “Blackmail, murder… they’re just going to pretend none of this ever even happened?”

Ben shrugged. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’d like to get the hell out of Costa Rica. Just in case local law enforcement is looking for me in connection with what happened in Los Yoses yesterday.”

“But Larison-”

“Larison’s gone already. Probably crossed the border somewhere while we slept. I know this is hard for you to accept, Paula, but this isn’t a criminal investigation. It never was. My best guess? Even in the Bureau, there are people who recognize it’s not a criminal investigation, and they’re leaking to people in the CIA, people who are very committed to stopping a criminal investigation. And to stopping you, if you insist on trying to conduct one. That’s not a place you want to be.”

“This really just… sucks.”

“On the one hand. On the other hand, no one’s talking assassinations anymore, right? The powers that be have decided to resort to diplomacy.”

She shook her head and grimaced. “I don’t know what the hell the powers that be are doing. I really don’t.”

34. Courier

They drove north on the coastal road toward the airport in Quepos. Fifteen minutes into the drive, Ben’s phone buzzed.

“All right,” Hort said. “You heard.”

“Yeah.”

“So you know, somebody’s going to need to hand over those diamonds tomorrow. I want it to be you.”

Ben was surprised. “Me?”

“You know anyone better?”

“No, I’m game. I just… you know, it’s not what I usually do.”

“Well, none of this is usual. I need you to get to Washington ASAP. We don’t know what Larison is planning for tomorrow. We’ll have a jet ready, but beyond that, all we can really expect is that he’ll be issuing instructions step-by-step to keep us scrambling.”

“In case anyone tries to grab him again.”

“Exactly. Although his primary defense against a snatch is still his dead-man setup. Where are you now?”

“About an hour from Quepos.”

“The jet will be waiting for you there. It’ll take you to Washington National. Give the FBI agent a lift if she wants it, but get clear of her after that. Stay in the area tonight, and be ready to roll by 0700 tomorrow.”

“Roger that.”

He clicked off. Paula said, “So you’re going to be the courier.”

Ben glanced over. He hadn’t said that much on the call, but it had been enough. “Looks like it.”

“You okay with that?”

He shrugged. “Is there a reason not to be?”

“Well, some people might consider Larison to be a pretty dangerous character, for one.”

Of all the reasons Ben might have been concerned, danger just wasn’t one of them. He thought about saying something about how danger was part of the business, but decided it would sound cheesy. Or that she would just accuse him of being a hard-ass again.

“I’ll be careful,” he said.

“I could go with you.”

“Actually, you can’t. Larison said it has to be a single courier.”

“Did he really say that?”

“He did.”

“Well, damn.”

“Look, it’s all over now but the logistics. Somebody’s got to give him the diamonds. It could be anyone. It just happens to be me. By tomorrow evening, or the next day at the latest, this thing will be done. After that, the tapes will be released or they won’t be released, but that particular problem is above our pay grade.”

She didn’t answer.

“Okay? Paula, this isn’t up to me.”

Still no response.

“Look, if anything changes, I’ll let you know.”

“How?”

“Well, you live in D.C., right?”

“Fairfax. Why?”

“It’s just, I don’t have a place to stay tonight-”

She laughed.

“-and I’m always looking for ways to improve those interagency relations.”

“Yes, you’ve been diligent about that.”

“I try.”

“You know, last night was nice-”

“This morning, too.”

“And this morning, too. But having you stay at my apartment… right now, that’s too much for me.”

“More of the ‘you wanted to be fucked, not made love to’ thing.”

“Something like that.”

“Well, I could just fuck you, then. I’m pretty flexible that way.”

She laughed again.

“Seriously,” he said. “Was this just a one-off? Because, when you weren’t trying to punch me in the face and bite my ear off, I thought it was pretty good.”

She nodded. “It was good. A little… crazy. But good.”

“So?”

“So I think I need a little time to digest everything that just happened, okay? Not just with you. With everything.”

– -

They barely spoke on the flight back. Paula’s eyes were closed for hours but Ben sensed she wasn’t sleeping-that she was instead simply withdrawing into herself. Withdrawing from him. He watched her and noticed for the first time how long her lashes were. He noticed not for the first time how good she looked in the sundress. But neither of these observations felt relevant. It was as though she’d pulled down a steel curtain between them. She seemed as distant and unreachable as though the night before hadn’t ever happened.

They went through customs and then through the terminal. Standing outside arrivals, diesel buses and honking taxis lurching past, the midday Washington sun superheating the humidity around them, Ben tried to think of the right thing to say. And couldn’t.

“Are you… sorry?” he asked.

“Not exactly.”

He chuckled. “Well, that’s a ringing endorsement if ever I heard one.”

She shook her head. “I’m just… confused.”

“I tried to tell you it was a bad idea.”

“I don’t remember you trying all that hard.”

“Believe me, I did.”

“Well, maybe I should have listened.”

“Yeah, maybe you should have.” It came out harsher than he’d intended, but still.

She nodded slowly, then said, “I need to go.” She turned and started to move away.

“Paula.”

She turned back to him.

“I know you need to write some kind of report. You should… be careful what you put in it.”

She took a step closer. “Are you threatening me?”

He felt irritation rising and pushed it away. “First of all, I don’t threaten. And second, no, all I’m doing is giving you some well-intentioned advice. As a friend. Those Ground Branch guys in Los Yoses knew your name. There’s still a lot we don’t know about this whole thing, and what we don’t know is making certain people extremely twitchy.”

She didn’t answer.

“But hey, write whatever the hell you want.” He turned to go.

“Ben. Wait.”

He turned. For a moment, she looked like she was genuinely struggling with something. Her mouth opened, then closed. She pursed her lips, and it was as though her expression were somehow… dissolving. For a second, he thought she might cry.