Barrow cleared his throat. “We’ll block his export applications, bar him from government work. Work with our allies to make his life difficult, but unofficially, he’s got what you might call spousal privilege. He’s outside of scope, son. I’m sorry.”

Klay felt his stomach turn. “Outside of scope” was what he’d said to Bernard. Part of his “I’m no safari ant” speech. He’d been wrong to say that, wrong to stand by, wrong to not speak out about Congo and so many things he’d seen, even if his voice was unlikely to be heard. He’d been wrong for so long, confining himself to the page, the deadline, the script.

Hungry said he was afraid to take on the unwinnable case, and he had laughed. He was a mortician’s son, he said. They were all unwinnable cases. Life was an unwinnable case. But now he realized the unwinnable was the only thing worth fighting for.

His father had stood up to Nicky Scalise—and the cost had been immeasurable. But the cost to stand by—to not enter the fight, regardless of the odds—was to let darkness win. Taking a risk to help someone—knowing you might lose—was not folly; it was the test of a man. Without sacrifice, all the world was darkness. His father’s voice: You are a light, Tom.

“Your focus needs to be Vance Eady,” Barrow continued. “He’s a flight risk and he’s a suicide risk. We’re counting on you to keep him alive for us. He won’t make any decisions until he finds out what you know. So we need you to string him along a bit. Not long.”

“And then?” Klay asked.

Barrow shrugged.

Klay looked at Barrow. “I want to talk to my father.”

Barrow sighed deeply. He pressed the call button.

Klay reclined his seat and closed his eyes. An hour later Barrow woke him and handed him a phone. Barrow walked to the back of the plane, a symbolic gesture of privacy. The call would certainly be monitored and recorded. Klay and his father spoke for ten minutes. When he was through, Klay set the phone down on the table and waited for Barrow to return to his seat.

“I want him out of prison.”

“Can’t do it,” Barrow said.

“You lost your daughter. I lost my mother. He lost his wife. What would you do to have your daughter back? To protect her from that day? My father did what it took to protect his children.”

The two men evaluated each other. A father and a son. Mist and rock.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Barrow said. “After you deliver.”

“Fair enough,” Klay said. He would keep Eady alive until Barrow’s men arrived.