RainStorm

protecting Delilah. Didn't want
    him to think there was anything personal motivating me. In my experience,
    giving the CIA emotional information is like handing a
    hot poker to a sadist. Better to have him think my attempts to downplay
    the woman's significance were motivated by something else.
    "Anyway, I don't think the woman is as important as I first did,"
    I said. "I only saw her the once. She's probably not the one in your
    files. I'm sure I can handle Belghazi just fine."
    He raised an eyebrow. "You worried that, if we think someone
    else is going to take out Belghazi, we'll take you off the case?"
    I could have smiled. He was good--a lot better than when I'd
    first gotten to know him--but he had just gone for the head fake
    I'd offered.
    I frowned, overplaying it just slightly to convince him his suspicions
    were right, to make the impression stick. Pretending to ignore
    his question out of annoyance, I said, "I want to hear what
    you know about the team that just came after me."
    He was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, "All right, I'll
    level with you. I think there's a leak on our side. But I don't want
    to say more until I've had a chance to run it down."
    I was getting that feeling from him, that feeling of this guy is an
    agent, I can run him just like they taught me down at the Farm, string him
    along, take him where I want him to go.
    I looked at him for a long moment, letting him feel the coldness
    in my eyes. " `I'll level with you,'" I repeated, saying it slowly. "You
    know, I've never liked that phrase. To me it always sounds like, 'Up
    until now I've been full of shit.'"
    "No, it sounds like, 'Up until now, I've been judiciously holding
    something back.'"
    "If you think I can appreciate the difference, you must assume
    I'm capable of CIA-class subtlety," I said, still looking at him.
    His color deepened. He was remembering his security escort,
    the one whose neck I had broken.
    "Look," he said, raising his hands, palms forward, "I've seen you
    act precipitously before, okay? You can be very direct, and I admire
    you for it, it's why you're so good at what you do. But if I tell you
    something half-baked that turns out to be wrong and you go off
    and act on it, there are going to be very serious repercussions. For
    everyone involved."
    I said nothing. My expression didn't change.
    "Besides," he went on, and his urge to keep talking satisfied me
    that his discomfort was increasing, "it's not like you've been totally
    aboveboard with me either, okay? You expect me to believe you
    haven't seen the woman again? I don't buy it. Whoever she is, the
    one in the file or someone else, she didn't travel all the way to
    Macau with Belghazi for a single cameo appearance. Trust works
    two ways, okay?"
    Maybe I'd been wrong a moment earlier, thinking he was still a
    bit unseasoned. He was sharp, and getting sharper all the time.
    Shame on me for underestimating him.
    But I'd give him an avuncular pat on the back later. For now, I
    needed to keep up the pressure.
    "Did you have a fucking death squad come after you in the last
    week, Kanezaki?" I asked, my eyes still cold and direct. When he
    didn't answer, I said, "No, I didn't think so. Well, I did. In connection
    with a job for which you retained me. So let's just cut the 'love
    is a two-way street' bullshit right now or I'm going to conclude
    that you've been dissembling."
    There was a long pause. Then he said, "All right. Belghazi is
    part of a list. A hit list. Of course, it's not called a 'hit list.' Even post
    Nine-Eleven, no one would use a description like that."
    I raised my eyebrows, thinking that maybe the geniuses who
    had once named an e-mail sniffing program 'Carnivore' had finally
    taken a class on marketing.
    He took a sip of coffee. "The list is officially called the 'International
    Terrorist Threat Matrix,' or ITTM, for short. Unofficially, it's
    just called 'the list.' It was created and is continually updated by the
    Agency, in our capacity as central clearinghouse for all intelligence
    produced by the intelligence community. Its purpose is to identify
    the key players in the international terrorist infrastructure. Like the
    FBI's Most Wanted List, but broader. You know, a 'Who's Who.'"
    "Are you still 'leveling' with me?" I asked.
    He put his coffee down and looked left and right, as though
    searching for words. "See, that's what I'm talking about, the ten-
    dency to be precipitous," he said. "Will you just let me finish? Because
    I'm