“Agreed,” Van Buren said in his clipped Midwestern accent. “The Well became the most dangerous place on earth. It was our personal black site, where we conducted articulated renditions of foreign and domestic terrorists in order to glean knowledge for future projects.”

“And it was shut down,” Jefferson said, “to ensure we wouldn’t get caught up in the misguided congressional witch hunt against legal torture of enemy combatants.”

“Everything Congress does is misguided,” Van Buren said, which brought knowing chuckles and guffaws all around.

“That was why all documentation amassed during its existence was destroyed,” Adams interjected, putting an end to the levity. He was a tall, tanned, sandy-haired man from Tennessee who had founded one of D.C.’s most powerful lobbyist firms. He shuddered visibly. “Never again.”

“You’re far too squeamish.” Washington had a narrow, angular face with thick salt-and-pepper hair that came down over the tops of his ears.

“Squeamish is one thing,” Jackson, an ex-military man with a tactical bent, said. “Danger is quite another. We are engaged in a precarious situation as it is. Reopening the Well will only add to the potential peril.”

“I disagree,” Hartwell countered. “We embarked on Mobius with a specific goal in mind. Our handpicked emissary has spent months negotiating with the Iraqi Kurds.”

“Preach!” It was like a mini-explosion coming from Luther St. Vincent, known around the table as Washington.

“There’s no need to get into that at this stage,” Hartwell said with a quick flicker of his eyes toward Monroe, whose expression was, as usual, entirely neutral. Trey shrugged mentally. Better this way, he supposed. He raised a hand, directed himself to St. Vincent. Best to throw him a bone here, lest he begin his Preach rant again. No one wanted that. “By all means, Washington, pick up the thread. You lit the fire.”

St. Vincent settled himself, arranging his tie as a peacock will show off its tail, and Hartwell knew he had made the right decision. Preach had taught him about decisions. “These decisions,” Preach had said, “will lead us into a newer, better world.”

“These men—these warriors we are creating—” St. Vincent said, “will stand by the Kurds to defend the oil fields in northern Iraq, which are in Kurdish territory. They will help the Kurds stand up to and repel the Shi’ites, and now the scourge of IS, who have already taken brave American lives.”

“Islamic State,” Hartwell said softly, as if prompting an ADHD student.