Don Fernando’s head hung down, his chin resting on his chest, which heaved like a swimmer’s after he has crossed the English Channel. Bourne huddled him close, arm thrown protectively around the old man’s shoulders.

“Rest for a moment,” Bourne said. “Then we need to swim the last part.”

“The last part? You mean there’s more?”

“You see there—” he pointed “—the river wall comes down in steps to the level of the Seine. We can easily climb up at that point.”

Don Fernando’s head shook back and forth. His long mane of hair hung lankly down either side of his face, which was drawn with exhaustion. “I’m done.” His hands trembled. “I don’t think I can go on.”

 “Then rest,” Bourne said. “Watch the light show on the Pont Alexandre III while I make a call.”

That brought Don Fernando out of himself. “Make a call? How are you going to do that? Everything is soaked.”

“A waterproof satphone.” Bourne pulled a small oblong encased in rubber from an inner pocket.

The sight of it brought a small laugh bubbling into the older man’s throat. He shook his head, then abruptly turned away. He was silent for a long time. The water lapped at the pier. Shouts from the police launches in the river at the crash site upriver carried on the night wind.

“You know, Jason, the human race seems to have an infinite capacity for rationalization.” He shook his head again. “There was a time when I had hopes that my son would turn out like you. But he disappointed me. He ended up doing everything wrong, somehow his values ended upside down or inside out. I don’t know.”

“Now’s not the time—”

“Now’s precisely the time, Jason. I don’t think I’ll have the courage to say this at another time.” He turned to Bourne. “I haven’t always treated you well. Often I haven’t told you the truth; at other times I’ve withheld information from you.”

“Listen, Don Fernando—”

He held up a hand. “No, no, let me finish.” With every moment that passed now, he seemed to be gathering strength. “I wish I hadn’t treated you so poorly. I wish I could turn back time. I wish...”

The telltale sound of a helicopter came to them, the noise beating down off the rippled skin of the river. A huge beam of intense light lit up the sky before lancing downward to the water.

“Don Fernando,” Bourne said with no little urgency, “we need to go now. I’ll keep you afloat if need be.”

“I know you will, Jason. I don’t have to think twice about that.” As Bourne was about to slip back into the water, Don Fernando grabbed hold of him. “Wait. Wait.”

In the gloom, his eyes stood out, reflecting the light off the water.

“I know something now,” Don Fernando said. “I know you would never disappoint me.”

Sam Anderson was not a man easily intimidated, even by one of the three principals of DC’s most prestigious law firm. In any event, he had come prepared for any and all possibilities. Now he pulled a document from his inside jacket pocket and handed it to Bill Pelham. While the attorney was reading it, he said to Tom Brick, “You’ll come with us now, Mr. Brick. You’re implicated in a matter of national security. A battalion of lawyers can’t prevent it.”

Brick glanced at Pelham, who nodded at him. “We’ll have you out before dinnertime.”

Brick came around from behind his desk and preceded Anderson and Tim Nevers out of his office, down the corridor, and into the elevator.

On the way down, Anderson said, “Forensics found some interesting material on Richards’s corpse.”

Brick said nothing, staring straight ahead.

“You won’t be home for dinner, Brick.” Anderson smiled. “You won’t be home for a good long time.”

The doors opened, but Brick remained in place, even when Nevers stepped forward to keep the doors from closing.

“You two are so full of shit,” Brick said.

“You can share your opinion with Secretary Hendricks.” Anderson came around so he could see Brick’s expression. “He’s the one who wants to see you.”

In the car, Nevers slid behind the wheel, while Anderson sat beside Brick in the backseat.

“You’re right about one thing,” Anderson said as Nevers pulled out into traffic. “It’s too early for forensics to tell me anything definitive.”

Brick smiled. “That’s the first true thing you’ve said since you stomped your way into my office.”

“On the other hand,” Anderson said, “the electronic relay I planted that connected with the keylogger tracking Richards’s dirty work on the Touchstone servers has been traced back to the Core Energy network, where the activation codes for the virus he planted were stored for safekeeping.”

“I had nothing—”

“Shut it,” Anderson snapped. “You had everything to do with it, Brick, and we’re going to prove it.”

Li,” Ann Ring said, “what will you do now?”

Li Wan, whose brain had been slowly exploding ever since Ann had revealed Natasha Illion’s true identity, was in the bind of his life. He could not possibly reveal this to Minister Ouyang. He’d never be trusted again, and rightly so. His desperate mind tried to calculate how much intel he had inadvertently revealed to Tasha in bed or wherever else they had fucked. The dreadful truth was he could not remember. His career was stymied and in danger of not only backsliding, but being terminated with extreme prejudice. The truth was that he needed immediate help.

He looked at Ann Ring, opened his mouth once, closed it, then said, “My current situation is intolerable.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Her eyes were steady on him.

There ensued a short silence that nevertheless seemed to boil with thoughts and ideas. After ending the meal in a shocked near-silence, Ann, perhaps intuiting that what he needed was a change in venue, had suggested that they repair to a late-night bar, where they sat in an old-fashioned high-backed booth, completely separate from the other patrons, who were in any event intent on drinking and watching a soccer match on ESPN.

Li waited in vain for Ann Ring to suggest something. “In this type of situation,” he said at last, “there is only one way to deal with things.” He paused. “You have to protect me.”

Ann Ring’s eyes opened wide. “I’m a United States senator. I don’t haveto do anything.”

Li swallowed. “I can help you in the same way I helped your husband.”

“Really?” Ann Ring swung her head around. “And what did you do for him?”

“Passed on information he was able to use as scoops at Politics As Usual. Those exclusives made his reputation.”

“Why didn’t I know about this?”

“Charles was very good at keeping secrets.”

“Yes. That he was.” Ann considered a moment. “And what did you get from Charlie in return?”

Li passed a hand across his eyes, said nothing.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you, Li,” Ann said, pushing her shot glass aside and gathering her things preparatory to leaving.

“Wait! Please.” He felt suddenly drained. It was a measure of the severity of his circumstances that he was even considering disclosing what he had needed from Charles. “Tell me, Senator Ring, have you heard of SILEX?”

Ann screwed up her face in concentration. “I have, but at the moment I cannot think in what context.”

“SILEX stands for the separation of isotopes by laser excitation,” Li said. “It’s a true game-changer when it comes to quickly creating enriched fuel for nuclear reactors.”

“Now I remember,” Ann said. “The process was bought by GE, who formed a partnership with Hitachi. They said they could envision a SILEX plant that could enrich enough uranium per year to service sixty reactors. That would be enough to power a third of the United States.”

“Then the government got involved,” Li said.