“You’re working late tonight.”

“Goes with the territory. We need to talk.”

Nathan said nothing.

“I hear you’ve been busy out there.”

Was this an attempt at a thank-you? “Yes, I have. We have, Harv and me.”

“You saved a bunch of lives with that warning shot you fired at the compound. I’m glad you were there.”

“Frank Ortega asked us keep an eye on things.”

“I know, he told me. He also told me you want to speak to Director Lansing.”

“I’ve already spoken with him.” But you already know that, he silently added.

“May I ask what you talked about?”

“Harv and I are going after the Bridgestones.”

“I see.”

“Before murdering twenty-one federal employees today, they beat James Ortega to a bloody pulp, cut six of his fingers off, and then burned him alive.” Nathan waited through an uncomfortable silence. “You still there?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“Frank didn’t tell you that part?”

“No, Nathan, he didn’t tell me that part, and I didn’t ask.”

More silence. He knew his father was wondering why he hadn’t been told. In Washington, information was power. “Look, these guys have to be found and interrogated. You want every ounce of that Semtex accounted for, don’t you? Especially after today?”

“The FBI has its own people for that. They don’t need you.”

Nathan sighed.

“You need to back off and let the FBI handle things from here. I can’t—”

“You can’t what?”

“All right. I can’t protect you if you continue down this road of vengeance.”

“It’s not vengeance and I don’t need your protection.”

“You’re not in the CIA working on foreign soil anymore. This is the United States of America. You can’t just grab people off the street and interrogate them.”

“Watch me.”

“Damn it, Nathan. This isn’t Nazi Germany. Your brutal methods are illegal and insidious. Let it go. This isn’t your fight.”

“The hell it isn’t. One way or the other, the Bridgestones are going down. If the FBI finds them before I do, that’s fine with me. So you called to warn me off, is that it?”

“If you persist with this manhunt of yours, you could go to prison and I won’t be able to help you.”

“Like you helped me in Nicaragua?”

“That’s a hateful thing to say. I had no idea where you were being… held.”

“You can say it, Dad. It’s just a word. Tortured. You had no idea where I was being tortured. For three weeks.”

“They… I couldn’t find you.”

“Oh? Harv found me.”

No response.

“And guess how he did it? He grabbed people off the street and interrogated—”

“I know how he did it,” Stone interrupted.