Her eyes were moist. She stood up and tightened the belt of her robe.

“Time to get dressed. Dan, do we have to put out a statement?”

Carey had been scribbling on a yellow legal pad.

“Nothing elaborate,” he said. “You’re following developments and you expect you will be kept posted. You are glad none of the agents involved in the raid were injured. That’s all. And that your schedule today remains the same.”

“Fine.”

She paused alongside Addis.

“Sorry we didn’t have a chance to talk more, Nick. I’m still hoping you change your mind, maybe come with us to the show tonight.”

“Good luck,” he said.

As she left the room, an armed guard appeared at the door. He spoke to Margaret, and she turned toward Lancette.

“Dear, you have a visitor. Sent by your employer. Please give the director my regards. I’m sure you’ll be quite safe now.”

Addis wondered why Margaret had not pressed them further. Was she too preoccupied with her own plans?

A man in a dark suit came into the room. His jacket was unbuttoned and an empty holster was visible. CIA security, Lancette thought. You could always tell. Then she realized that she had seen him before.

“Ms. Lancette?” he asked.

The accident outside headquarters—this was the same guy. He showed no sign of recognition.

“The director would like to see you, Ms. Lancette. I’m supposed to bring you to his office.”

“Let me get my things,” she said.

“Right away,” he added.

“Nick,” she said, “show me where you put my purse.”

“Sure,” Addis replied. He said good-bye to O’Connor and Whalen.

“It was good seeing you back home,” Whalen said. “Hope we’re done with all that.”

Are you playing with me, Flip? Which “all that” do you mean? Donny Lee Mondreau? Blue Ridge?

The CIA man followed Addis and Lancette to the study. “I’ll be right out,” Lancette said to the security officer. She closed the door before he could respond.

“That was a crock of shit,” she whispered to Addis. “The white supremacy stuff.”

“How do you know?” he asked, keeping his voice low.