‘Let me make this clear,’ Gibson said, finally wiping his brow. ‘As far as I’m concerned you’re the most disposable American on this entire island. I’m not putting anyone’s life at risk for you.’

A year ago thousands of US military and government personnel had flooded into the Dominican Republic as part of Operation Power Pack—the rapid incursion that put a swift end to the country’s sudden and violent civil war, which had threatened to destabilise the already precarious political balance of the Caribbean. Then, a month later, the troops and ships had started to withdraw. But the US never left completely.

The CIA held on to the secure compound it had established at the port of Haina in the south of the capital, Santo Domingo. The complex, surrounded by high concrete walls and almost entirely roofed—to provide some respite from the harsh Caribbean sun and also block any attempts at airborne or orbital surveillance—was purposefully far away from the US embassy. It acted independently of it, and of Dominican law.

‘Asselin was in our custody,’ Bennett said, revealing to Gibson that she knew exactly who they’d handed over to the Tonton Macoute and sentenced to death. ‘He was our responsibility.’

‘He was never in our custody,’ Gibson replied. ‘We were never there.’

Bennett was shocked by the bluntness of his lies. ‘That’s not how we work,’ she said.

Gibson let out a short snort. ‘They tell you that at The Farm? Sorry to disappoint, but if you want honour and glory, you’re in the wrong job.’

Bennett felt anger building inside her. She couldn’t believe how casually he was dismissing what had happened last night, or the beliefs that had kept her going through countless battles before the one that was rapidly erupting between the two of them.

‘Who did they give us?’ she asked. ‘Was he worth it at least?’

Gibson leaned back in his chair, brushed his hand over his damp hair, and stared at his insubordinate agent who was refusing to take her dressing-down quietly.

‘For one thing, that’s several levels above your security clearance. And for another, what makes you think you’ve earned the right to ask me to justify my orders?’

‘But—’ Bennett started before Gibson held up his hand to stop her.

‘I’ll tell you what,’ he said. ‘You can have as many last words as you want, once you get out of my office.’

‘Sir—’

‘Go!’

Bennett clenched her jaw, spun on her feet, and walked out of the room. She flung the door behind her, but caught it just before it hit the frame. Then she stalked across the compound, impotent rage burning inside her, and out into the docks.