Daemon

five miles of the speed limit, and signal all lane changes. If you deviate from my instructions, I will return you to Warmonk, Inc., and bear in mind, Mr Moze-ly: if I can erase your prison record, I can just as easily expand it. Life without the
possibility of parole. Child molesters are the lowest in the prison social order, are they not?
’
    This chilled him to the core. Going back to prison was one thing. Going back as a pederast was quite something else. Death was preferable.
    ‘
Do you understand?
’
    ‘Yes.’ No flippant responses this time. She had his full attention.
    Mosely kept the car aimed at the distant horizon. A passing sign told him Houston lay 102 miles ahead.

Chapter 26:// Judgment
    Agent Roy Merritt stood stiffly – eyes straight ahead – one hand resting on his cane for support. Burn scars traced across his neck and chin above his suit collar. More scars were visible on the back of his hand as he straightened his tie. Agent Roy Merritt. No one called him Tripwire anymore. The men who had were long gone. He’d led them to their deaths.
    Merritt focused his eyes on a frieze of workers building a glorious tomorrow. The image was set into the wall, done in the 1930s, art deco style – a WPA project. Master craftsmen had built this entire building, dispossessed workers in the throes of the Great Depression. The ornamental ceiling. The paneled walls and the inlaid granite floor. This room was a masterpiece. Their own dreams lay in ruins, and they built this temple to democracy. His forebears were tougher than he ever thought he could be.
    Merritt stood before a narrow table, placed in the center of the room. Arrayed in front of him were congressional committee members, sitting high in judgment behind a richly carved oak judges’ bench. Microphones jutted up before each of them. They shuffled through papers, reading with their bifocals low on their noses.
    The committee chairman looked up and pulled the microphone toward him. ‘You may be seated, Agent Merritt.’ The words echoed flatly in the empty gallery. It was a confidential committee hearing. No one but Merritt and the committee members were present.
    ‘Sir.’ Merritt limped to the chair and sat rigidly.
    The chairman regarded him. ‘Agent Merritt, it is the responsibility of this committee to investigate the tactical failures thatled to a record loss of federal officers in October of last year at the estate of the late Matthew Sobol. We have already heard relevant testimony from all bureau personnel and local law enforcement officers who were at the scene, and now that you have sufficiently recovered from your injuries, we would like to close out our investigation with your testimony on this matter.’
    He paused and lowered his sheaf of papers. ‘Before we begin, let me state for the record, Mr Merritt, that this committee is aware of the many personal sacrifices you have made for this country, both here and overseas following September 11th. We have the highest regard for both your personal courage and your patriotism.’
    Merritt stared at the floor in front of him. He said nothing.
    The chairman picked up the papers and turned to the senator on his right. ‘Senator Tilly, you may proceed.’
    Tilly was a white-haired, loose-jowled man – like most of the legislators in attendance. He glanced at his notes and then stared at Merritt. He spoke in a Southern drawl that seemed strangely in keeping with the proceedings. ‘Agent Merritt. We have reviewed both your written
repoats
– the first dated ten March and the second from three April – and these documents do not shed any light on one crucial question: why did you force entry into Sobol’s mansion after being ordered to abort your mission?’
    Merritt barely looked up at Tilly. He took a breath. ‘I have no explanation, Senator.’
    The senators exchanged looks. The chairman leaned in to his mic.
    ‘Mr Merritt, it is your duty to provide—’
    ‘My team was dead. Because of me. I was injured and angry, and I wasn’t thinking clearly.’
    Tilly responded immediately. ‘You weren’t thinking clearly? Because of your injuries or because of your anger?’
    He looked down at the floor again. ‘Because of my anger.’
    ‘So you were angry. Do you feel this released you from your duty?’
    ‘No, I do not, sir.’
    ‘And you were angry at Matthew Sobol?’
    Merritt nodded.
    The chairman leaned in again. ‘Agent Merritt, please state your response.’
    Merritt looked