Inside Outt

the—”
    “Wait. They’re not public. The website is encrypted. The caller wants a hundred million dollars in uncut diamonds, or he decrypts the files and uploads them to YouTube and every media outlet in the United States and abroad.”
    Ulrich felt clammy sweat spring out under his arms and along his back. He was momentarily at a loss. If this had happened when he had the full authority of the vice president’s office behind him, he would have instantly taken control, and taking control would have calmed him. As it was, he felt trapped, in sudden thrall to this dimwit to whom he ought to be issuing orders. He felt horribly, uncharacteristically helpless.
    Which raised a question. “Why are you calling me?” he said.
    There was a pause. “The director just contacted the Justice Department. They’re bringing in the FBI.”
    “The FBI… no. Impossible. No one could be that stupid.”
    “It’s not stupid. He’s new. No previous connection to the Agency. He’s covering his ass by following procedure.”
    The room was suddenly stifling and Ulrich felt like he was falling. So much time had gone by. He hadn’t even thought about the tapes in… he couldn’t remember. He really had come to believe they were gone—launch all the investigations you want, it doesn’t matter because the tapes no longer exist.
    He’d never been so wrong.
    “You used to work with Bilton, right?” he heard Clements say. “The president’s counterterrorism adviser?”
    “I know him. Why?”
    “Call him. He’s got the ear of the national security adviser. We’re going to stonewall the Bureau, and the Bureau will go to the national security adviser to mediate. When they do, we want a sympathetic ear. All we need to do is keep the Bureau on a leash for a few days while we go after whoever is behind this.”
    “This is what we did last time. We didn’t find anything, remember?”
    “That was last time. This time, something new—something major—is in play. This guy, or this organization, whoever it is, they’re calling us. Creating websites. Issuing instructions. At some point, they’ll have to tell us how to deliver the diamonds. All that adds up to a whole series of opportunities we didn’t have before. The director’s made me point man on this and I’ve already assembled a team—same kind of discreet team we used last time. So we can handle it quietly—but not if the Bureau gets involved and starts treating it as a criminal case.”
    Ulrich exhaled a deep breath. Clements was right, he had to admit. Embarrassing to have him point out something Ulrich had missed, but he was right.
    “Yeah, I can get in touch with Bilton. He’ll understand. What’s our window?”
    “The caller agreed to give us five days to put together the diamonds.”
    “What? You’ve only got five days to find this guy and air him out?”
    “It’s more complicated than just airing him out. He says he’s got the video rigged to an electronic deadman switch. If he fails to disarm the switch at a preset interval, the video gets uploaded.”
    Hot bile surged into Ulrich’s throat. He pulled a bottle of Maalox Maximum Strength from a desk drawer, unscrewed the cap, and took a huge mouthful. He grimaced, his eyes watering, and swallowed.
    “Anything else?” he managed to ask.
    “Yeah. If this thing goes south, we’ll want to have our stories straight.”
    “If this thing goes south,” Ulrich said, his mouth pasty with the taste of the Maalox, “it won’t matter what our stories are.”
    He realized when Clements didn’t respond that he’d been hoping he would. Nothing could have confirmed Ulrich’s point more emphatically than the silence on the other end of the phone.
    “I’ll get in touch with Bilton right away,” Ulrich said. “Let’s keep each other posted.”
    He hung up, put his glasses on the table, and sat for a moment with his face in his hands.
    There was nothing he could do. The Agency was in charge, Ulrich’s involvement was reduced to that of a messenger boy… They were done, they were all done. Ever since the tapes were first discovered missing, he’d been living on borrowed time. No, since before then, even. Since he’d first figured out what to do with the Caspers. That’s what had killed him. He just hadn’t realized it until now.
    It wasn’t fair. For so many years, he’d tried so hard to protect the nation, and he just… he just couldn’t anymore. And without him, who would?
    And then some deep