Lou rose unsteadily and backed away from the chair, hands raised. Vaill remained seated. Lou was now in something of a power position, standing tall, facing his antagonist. The agent leaned back, a distant look in his eyes. Lou had the impression that for the first time since the questioning began, the man wasn’t locked on him.

“When we first started our conversation,” Vaill said, “you asked about my wife.”

“As I recall, when I did that you tried to strangle me.”

“Believe me, doc, when I want to strangle someone, they get strangled.”

More softening … Was it just fatigue?

Vaill leaned forward, elbows on the table, and for an uncomfortable minute gazed off at nothing. When his attention returned, Lou sensed that whatever was to follow would be from the heart.

“My wife’s name was Maria,” Vaill began. “She was with the agency like me, and she was and will be the only woman I have ever loved. Alexander Burke, a mole working for One Hundred Neighbors—actually, he was probably one of them—shot her between the eyes from seven feet while he was kidnapping Ahmed Kazimi. She was dead before her knees even started to buckle. She and I were on duty together at the time, so I watched her die. After he took out Maria, Burke shot me twice. I was falling backward down a flight of stairs and had my vest on, or he would have hit what he was aiming for—heart and head. The head shot missed being lethal by like an inch. The bullet ended up between my skull and brain and was removed. His mistake.”

Vaill gestured to a thick, recent scar arcing above his right ear.

As much as Lou despised the man, he could not dismiss his genuine heartache for what he had been through. All along, Lou had sensed that Vaill’s agenda had differed from McCall’s. This was not just about investigating a terrorist threat for him—it was personal. Highly personal.

“I’m really sorry,” Lou said. “But I honestly had nothing to do with your wife’s murder.”

“Look, I’m not saying you’re one of them.”

“So you do believe me?”

“I’m just trying to get at the truth,” Vaill said, rubbing his eyes.

“And I’m just trying to save my friend’s life.”

It was apparently the right thing to have said. Vaill’s expression reminded Lou of men he had sparred against to a draw, including Cap on those rare days when the difference in their ages caught up with him. There was an exhausted, grudging admiration. Lou sat back down when he realized he was bouncing on the balls of his feet, getting revved up for another round.

“Let me ask you another way, Vaill,” he said. “You don’t honestly think I’m a terrorist, do you?”