She spent most of the day with Helen, who took it upon herself to make some phone calls. Sherry mostly sat in the big armchair, crying and asking questions and slowly, ever so slowly, warming to the idea that something very, very strange was happening. God had his purposes, and somehow, she had been pulled into the middle of them all.

DAVID LUNOW sat in the director’s office with legs crossed and palms wet. He had been brought in to discuss Casius, of that he was sure. The large desk Friberg sat behind was made of a wood that reminded him of oak. Of course, it couldn’t be oak—oak was too cheap. Probably some imported wood from one of the Arab countries. Two high-backed chairs faced the desk. Mark Ingersol sat in one, David in the other. He couldn’t remember spending so much time with the brass.

Friberg dropped the phone in its cradle and stared at them without expression. He stood up and walked to the tall window behind the desk.

“No word?” Friberg asked.

“No,” Ingersol said.

“Then we move. Quickly,” Friberg said, facing them. His jaw muscles flexed. “Under no circumstances can we allow this man to live.”

David blinked. “Sir, I’m not sure I understand why he poses such a threat. He’s off on his own, and I can understand your frustration with his pigheaded attitude, but—”

“Shut up, Lunow,” Friberg said quietly. “The only reason you’re sitting where you are now is because you know the man better than anyone else. You played a part in his leaving and now you’ll play a part in his elimination. You’re not here to express your reservations.”

Heat flared up David’s neck. The warning Casius had spoken on the phone rang through his head.

“Of course, sir. But without knowing more, I’m not sure I can be effective. It seems he knows more than I do about what’s going on.”

“He’s after Jamal,” Friberg said. “And to get to Jamal he’s going through Abdullah Amir. That’s all he knows and it’s all you need to know.”

“I’m not sure that’s all he knows. He at least suspects more.”

“Then we have even more reason to take him out.”

David sat quietly now. He’d stepped into deep waters, that much was now clear.

“Perhaps it would help if we knew your concerns,” Ingersol said. “I’m just as much in the dark here as David. Casius has become a liability, but I’m not sure either of us understands just how much of one.”

Friberg turned back to the window and leaned on the ledge. He spoke out to the lawn. “I don’t have to tell you that this is ‘need to know’ only. And as far as I’m concerned, you’re the only two who need to know.” He ran a hand over his balding head. “Casius has inadvertently stumbled into an operation we were involved in eight years ago.” He turned back to them. “We know about Abdullah Amir. We know about his compound, and suffice it to say we can’t allow Casius to compromise our position in Venezuela because he has some hairbrained notion that Jamal is involved.”