Musil tried to put himself in Olsen’s shoes. The contract was likely key to CloudCable’s future. And here in his office this morning were members of the agency whose cyber director was its most outspoken critic. As a top company executive, he was in an unenviable spot.

The agent decided to change tacks. “Sir, understanding your position, can you confirm the Stalwart’s whereabouts when it disappeared?”

“Generally, yes,” Olsen said. “We’re establishing a direct undersea fiber link between our country’s West Coast cities, the Philippines, Taiwan and Japan. I’m not able to provide the exact location of the lines. That, again, is confidential absent a warrant. But it’s no secret that Stalwart has spent months operating in the South China Sea.”

“In what Beijing insists are its sovereign waters.”

“The Chinese have made that claim for decades. No one takes it seriously.” Olsen shrugged. “I doubt they believe it themselves. They’ve blustered at times but never acted on it.”

Musil looked at him. “Are you at all concerned they might have this time?”

He was silent. Musil waited.

“I don’t keep my head in the sand,” Olsen said after a moment. “I’ve thought of it. I’ve also frankly thought about piracy. Or an accident at sea. Different scenarios. Right now we only have questions. CloudCable has put all its internal resources into finding answers.”

“Then, let us help.”

“We would welcome that...but, again, the paperwork has to come first,” Olsen said. “Look, Agent, I’m sorry for the pushback. Bottom line, secure communications are our company’s stock-in-trade. If we didn’t follow strict procedures, we’d be buried in lawsuits. And eventually put out of business.”

Musil smoothed his beard. He’d tried. But as the proverb went, there were worlds and more worlds below them, and a hundred thousand skies over them. His current approach had led nowhere, and he would have to change it. For now, that required a tactical retreat.

He took a business card out of his wallet.

“All right, Mr. Olsen,” he said, and handed him the card. “We’ll be in touch.”

He got up to leave. Kali stayed seated, looking across the desk at Olsen.

“Did you speak about this to anyone else?” she asked.

He hesitated. “Such as?”

“The CIA,” she said. “The other agencies. Did you speak to any of them before we came this morning?”

Olsen hesitated another moment.

“They’re our partners. That’s all I’m at liberty to say.”

Kali finally rose from her chair, her eyes still on his face.

“Thank you,” she said.

Olsen got up, stepped to the door and opened it. Kali went out first, then Musil, followed by Hudson. Olsen nodded and smiled but didn’t say another word. They turned down the hall toward the building entrance, the office door closing behind them with a soft click.