Whitman’s heart went out to Flix, but at the same time something nagged at the back of his mind. Why during this whole story had Flix not looked at him? He was staring between his feet as if reading from a text written on the carpet. Whitman couldn’t put his finger on just what, but something was wrong, something Flix didn’t want to talk about.

“Siento mucho, compadre,” Whitman said with a pat on Flix’s good shoulder. “Get some rest, okay?”

Flix nodded, but didn’t lift his head.

When Whitman slipped into his seat beside Charlie, she whispered, “What’s with your pal there?”

Whitman looked over to where Flix was holding his head in his hands. “Damned if I know.”

“Well, you’d best find out before we hit enemy territory,” she said. “A team member who doesn’t have his eye on the ball is very likely to get us all killed.”

*   *   *

“Luther St. Vincent continues to be a problem,” Valerie said into her mobile, as she strolled through a park in Anacostia on her lunch break. She was far enough from Cutler’s office to assure her of anonymity.

“Enlighten me,” Preach said.

That was a joke. It was Preach who had taught her enlightenment when she was just a little girl. She took a bite of her hot dog, bare as a man coming out of the shower. “Luther St. Vincent is like a maddened pitbull.”

Preach laughed. “Just so.”

The park was a grubby place, filled with sand and grit and the detritus of human beings who took no notice of their immediate environment. They strolled amid blighted trees, passing men and women of uncertain age slumped on benches, insensate to the outside world.

“I’m imagining me here,” Valerie said, “on one of these benches, sad and wasted.”

“What’s the point?” Preach had instructed her to call him from this park; he knew the point, he just wanted her to say it.

“A lesson in humility,” Valerie said.

Preach grunted. “You should be more interested in the lesson Luther St. Vincent wants to teach you.”

“Like what? When it comes to NSA policy, Luther St. Vincent is it. As head of Directorate N, he’s got the ear of not only the national security adviser but POTUS as well. The two of them dote on his words—they rely on him absolutely. What Luther St. Vincent says goes, no questions asked. His intervention in Mobius puts him in direct opposition to Hemingway. And we’re caught in the middle.”

“Which is where we want to be,” Preach said. “It was important that I know when Luther decided to make his move.”

When, not if. The difference wasn’t lost on Valerie. “St. Vincent has already done damage. Paulus was a nervous wreck when he showed up at my house.”