“Simple. Kaz gave up AQ assets left and right to backstop his story. Carmichael knew he’d been getting gold from Kaz. And he knew that gold had helped him climb his way up in the Agency. He couldn’t let himself think for a second he’d been played because it would mean everything he’d put forward as a strength was now a weakness.”

“Kaz bought Carmichael’s trust and allegiance.”

“That’s right,” Hanley said. “When Aurbach dug for answers, Carmichael had to give you up. He knew he couldn’t let you talk to Mossad because you were the only one who knew you killed the man in the photograph you were given. If you were silenced, then the entire incident could be chalked up to a CIA assassin gone rogue, taking money to smoke the wrong guy, not a massive intelligence failure involving an illegal program.”

“But I didn’t play along.”

“No, you didn’t. Carmichael ordered your own team to terminate you. If you had died that night, the truth would have died with you, but you got away, went on the run and off grid. Carmichael then spent five frantic years trying to remove the compromise that could ruin him.”

Hanley downed another scotch, then said, “If you ever knew what this was all about, you could have walked right into an Israeli Embassy and explained it to Mossad. But you were kept in the dark as to why you had to die. You never knew BACK BLAST went bad, you never knew you killed Hawthorn, you never knew you were the one loose thread in an illegal operation that, if unraveled, could bring the entire U.S. intelligence community to its knees.”

“Now I know,” Court said. He looked out the window at the two planes. “Where does that leave me?”

Hanley said, “I want you back.”

“Back in the Agency?”

“Not exactly.” He paused. “Back running from the Agency.”

Court looked back at Hanley. “What the hell does that mean?”

“For the five years of the shoot on sight, you were out there, doing CIA dirty work, with no comebacks to us. You were the epitome of plausible deniability. All the other intel services knew we were after you, so whatever you did, we were in the clear.”

Court understood, but he said nothing.

“I want to harness that, Court. I want to run you, make you operational, keep you on target with our intelligence, close-hold stuff you can’t get anywhere else. I want you out there, going after bad actors we don’t have sanction to go after any other way. You could be our best direct-action weapon ever.”

“What’s in this for me?”

“What do you want?”

Court thought it over. The question stumped him for a moment. “All I wanted was to come home.”