Holtzmann stared slack-jawed at Barnes. The man looked completely unruffled in his black suit and white shirt, every one of his black hairs in place, his dark eyes almost lively, amused.

“Martin,” he said.

Bluff! Bluff!

“Director Barnes!” Martin replied. “I’m so glad you’re here. Shankari stole my badge.” He chuckled. “I was stuck here.”

Barnes smiled, closed the door behind him, and sat down in the chair across the desk from Holtzmann.

Holtzmann had to keep playing. He could do this. He could talk his way out of here.

He shook his head ruefully. “That was foolish of me. Have they caught Shankari yet? They know to keep him alive, yes?”

Barnes smiled wider. “I’m not here about Shankari, Martin.”

Zoe pounded a hard gust of wind against the windows, followed it with a machine gun fire spray of rain.

Holtzmann raised one eyebrow. “The Nexus kids, then? They can’t get far.” He gestured back behind himself at the armored window, at the hurricane beyond it.

Barnes chuckled. “You opened the wrong file, Martin.”

The cold dread clenched around Holtzmann. He knows.

Then he thought: I’m not getting out of here.

Holtzmann closed his eyes, raised his hands to his face.

[record –video –audio | mailto [email protected] –autobuffer –autoretry]

He opened his eyes and looked at Barnes again. Warnings scrolled down his face about poor connection quality, about low bit rates.

[Bandwidth Poor – Upload Delayed]

[Bandwidth Poor – Upload Delayed]

He ignored them.

“Here,” Holtzmann said, lifting the briefcase off the floor. “The files Warren Becker left are in here.” He put it on the desk, slid it towards Barnes.

Barnes took it, placed it on the floor next to him. “Becker, eh?” He sounded amused. “Haunting us from the grave.”

[Bandwidth Poor – Upload Delayed]

“Where you put him,” Holtzmann ventured.

Barnes’ expression became grave. “I think it’s time you joined him, Martin.”

Barnes reached into his jacket pocket and Holtzmann’s heart froze in fear, expecting a gun. He produced a pill instead. Small. Green. He placed it on the surface of the desk between them, and as he did, Holtzmann noticed for the first time the thin shimmer around Barnes’ hands. Monolayer gloves. He’d leave no trace behind here.

[Bandwidth Poor – Upload Delayed]

“The President values your loyalty,” Barnes was saying. “You’re a true American hero, Martin. Your wife will be taken care of. Your boys – off at college, right? In Europe? They’ll do great.”

Holtzmann stared at that little pill. His vision contracted around it until the room and Barnes and everything else shrank to insignificance, and only the pill remained, huge and ominous.

End of the road, Holtzmann thought. End of this long life of compromise. I should have followed my dreams, just once. I should have stuck with my convictions.

[Bandwidth Poor – Upload Delayed]

He looked up at Barnes again. “Does the President even know?” he asked.