This time Weiss didn’t throw anything, or even raise his voice. He knew what would come next, and he was blaming himself. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked quietly. “Maybe I could have helped.”

“I wanted to tell you. But I knew you would make me stop. And I felt I had to do it.”

“Nothing more to say?”

No, I said. That was it. Now Weiss got very serious. He spoke slowly, looking directly at me.

“I told you before, Eric, that working for the CIA is a firing offense, and I meant it. It’s a gross breach of professional ethics. It violates the most basic obligation of a newspaper reporter, which is to be independent of any private or government organization that we cover—especially an intelligence agency. Our readers cannot trust us unless they have confidence that we adhere to these standards. When they are violated, the paper must defend itself by punishing the person who has broken the rules.

“So I must ask you to leave the paper, effective today. The lawyers have these papers they want you to sign. I hope you’ll do that, and not jerk us around. You owe us that, I think. I’m told you have a lot of accumulated sick leave and vacation time, which should keep you going until the end of the year. And you’ll get the money in your 401(k) plan, and whatever else we owe you.

“Assuming you agree, I will put out a statement this evening saying that we have asked you to leave the paper, for cause. As has been our practice with other serious discipline cases, the paper will not make any further public comment about the reasons for your dismissal. A newsroom is a gossipy place, and people will be making all kinds of guesses about what happened. But I have no interest in seeing the details of this mess get out, and I assume you don’t either. I will also try hard to dissuade the Times from writing a story. I can’t promise you, but the editor over there owes me a favor, and he knows it.”

The lawyers handed me the papers. I read Weiss’s announcement—it was as bland a firing notice as he could have written under the circumstances—and then signed the papers. That was my last gift to the Mirror. The modern approach would have been to retain a lawyer and negotiate a more generous settlement. But I had no stomach for that.

When the papers were all signed, Weiss shook my hand, told me how sorry he was it had come to this and said he hoped I would find some other work that would give me satisfaction. He pointed me toward the door.