They got off the train in the cathedral town of Cologne, and an hour later, they were on an unmarked Treadstone jet heading west toward New York. The thumb drive with Louisa’s information was in Nash’s hands, and he spent the first several hours of the flight in a secure room on the private jet, reviewing the situation with higher-ups at the CIA. That included a woman whom Bourne knew well—and didn’t trust at all—a deputy director named Holly Schultz, who had sent him on questionable missions more than once in the past.
Bourne sat in the back of the jet with Abbey. While she tried to sleep, he stayed awake, watching the ocean out the windows. They’d hit a patch of turbulence, giving them a bumpy ride. Oskar played a computer game on a laptop. Saira had filled two yellow pads with notes, sketching out details of a press conference to announce what they’d discovered. Organizing a summary of the lies that had been spread. Highlighting specific missions that Louisa had spearheaded in various countries. Naming names.
He didn’t want to tell her that her preparation was a waste of time. There would be no press conference.
They were within two hours of landing when Nash returned. He had a smile on his face, but Bourne had worked with Nash for a long time, and he knew the smile was a cover for things they wouldn’t want to hear. He gathered them around a conference table without notes and without a phone. Jason also noticed that Nash hadn’t brought the thumb drive back with him. None of them were likely to see it again.
“I’ve been in touch with senior people throughout the government,” Nash told them, “and the first thing I have to say is how grateful we are for everything you did and everything you risked to bring this situation to light. The information that Mr. Vogel downloaded in Frankfurt is profoundly shocking. We take it very seriously, and we will be taking aggressive action in response.”
“Yes, it’s imperative that we move quickly,” Saira interjected. “The longer we wait, the more time they have to mount a PR counteroffensive to undercut our revelations. We can’t leave any doubt in people’s heads about what’s been going on. I’ve already got a structure prepared for a public announcement. I’m happy to lead and moderate the presentation, but the key question is deciding who else should be part of it. Obviously Oskar, who can describe Louisa’s actions and his role in Frankfurt in detail. I assume Jason will need to stay out of it for security reasons, but Abbey should be involved. And we’ll need other media and government representatives, too. You can probably offer suggestions on that, Mr. Rollins. There’s a lot to organize in a short time, but I think we should aim to go public no later than tomorrow morning.”
Nash let her finish her thoughts. Bourne could see him waiting to drop the bomb. Saira was a scientist, and she didn’t understand the government.
“While we all appreciate your enthusiasm, Dr. Kohli—and we welcome your help in dealing with this situation going forward—we’ve concluded that full disclosure of these events wouldn’t serve the public well.”
Saira leaned forward on the table with disbelief on her face. “Excuse me? What are you talking about? Not serve the public well? The people have been lied to. They’ve been manipulated. Elections were hijacked. Innocents were murdered.”
“That’s true,” Nash agreed.
“So how can it be in the public interest to keep all of that secret?”
Nash sighed. “In this case, I’m just a messenger, Dr. Kohli. If you want to talk about this further, I can put you in touch with others in the government. Honestly, if you want a sit-down with the president, I can probably arrange that. Trust me, he’s in the loop now on what has happened. This is his call, supported by other senior advisors in the intelligence community.”
“A cover-up? Really? That’s your solution?”
“Consider the alternative, Dr. Kohli. The institute was ostensibly formed to deal with an epidemic of mistrust regarding the mass media and social media platforms. Do you think it will do anything to improve trust if we announce that the very organization that claimed to be battling misinformation was itself a cover for murder and political control? Will that make us less divided?”
Saira opened her mouth to protest, but then she shut it in frustration.
Sitting next to Jason, Abbey didn’t look surprised. “So what do you intend to do?” she asked.
“As I said, we’re taking aggressive action,” Nash replied. “There is a lot of data to analyze, and it will probably take months to assess every area where the Pyramid distorted news reports and destroyed lives. In each case, we’ll be looking for ways to rectify any injustice we find. I admit, it’s going to take time, and there may be situations where there’s little we can do. But we’ll make every effort, I promise you.”
“What do you plan to do, fight lies with lies?” Saira asked bitterly. “Isn’t that exactly what the Pyramid was doing?”
“I’m afraid we have to deal with the world as it is,” Nash told her. “I wish there were another way, but there’s not.”
Abbey interjected again. “What about the fire? And the Senate election? You can’t unring that bell.”
“As far as the terrible deaths in Atlanta, you’re right. But the president will be having a private conversation with Senator Adamson this evening, and he’ll confront her with the evidence we have in hand. She’s about to have a personal crisis that will necessitate her resigning her Senate seat. In addition, she’ll provide us with details of the inner workings of the Pyramid, particularly the names of those involved. That will give us the tools to dismantle it entirely. The latest incarnation of Inver Brass will be destroyed.”
“And if she refuses to play ball?” Saira asked.
“She will. She has no choice.”
“But if she doesn’t?”
Nash shrugged and didn’t answer, but Bourne knew what that meant.
At the other end of the conference table, he spoke for the first time. “What about Abbey? How does she get her life back? And Saira? And Oskar?”
“Well, with regard to Mr. Vogel, the Frankfurt police will issue an apology and a correction tomorrow. Oskar will be cleared of any wrongdoing. We’d like your help over the next several months in working through the information you provided, Mr. Vogel, but after that, if you want to go home, you’ll be free to do so. On the other hand, I hope you’ll consider staying in the U.S. on a permanent basis. Your skills would be very useful to us.”
Oskar said nothing, and his face was impassive, not giving his feelings away. But in the end, Jason knew he’d be forced to do what they wanted. He’d be enlisted, recruited, paid to do the same work he’d been doing before, for a different kind of Pyramid. The one that was on the back of the U.S. dollar. Treadstone always got its way.
Bourne shook his head. Saira was right. They fought lies with other lies.
“As for the rest,” Nash went on, “the Justice Department will hold a press conference in the next couple of days. We’ll announce the indictment of a hacker based out of Romania. A teenager, nineteen years old. His whereabouts are unknown, but we’ll be mounting a global search to locate and arrest him. The attorney general will announce that this individual was responsible for manufacturing false online profiles that were used to smear a number of prominent people, including both Dr. Kohli and Abbey Laurent. He’ll confirm that there is absolutely no basis in fact for any of the allegations that were made against them. We expect this will go a long way toward restoring your public reputations.”
“Meanwhile, this hacker is another lie,” Saira commented. “He doesn’t exist. And, of course, he’ll never be found.”
“Yes, of course,” Nash acknowledged. “But the two of you will have your lives back.”
“What about the institute?” Saira asked.
“Naturally, you’ll resign and suggest that the entire project be disbanded. Your voice will carry a lot of weight. You can say that it seemed like a good idea, but you’ve concluded that the only way to deal with misinformation is more speech, not less. That every attempt at censorship, however well intentioned, makes the problem worse and only feeds greater distrust. It’s messy, but freedom is messy.”
No one spoke. Nash put both hands on the table.
“Anyway, I have more calls to make before we land. Jason, could I speak to you privately for a moment?”
Bourne had been expecting that.
He got up from the table, along with Nash, leaving the others behind in silence. Like Oskar, Saira would ultimately do what they asked her to do. She’d protest, but in the end, she’d toe the party line and say what they wanted her to say. And they’d all sign nondisclosure agreements, keeping the secrets that the government wanted them to keep. Even Abbey would go along. She’d hate it, but she’d do it to protect him.
Nash led him to the private room near the front of the jet, which was sound protected and hacker protected, like a SCIF in midair. There was a computer, a phone, and a desk inside, but not much else.
Jason sat down in an upholstered chair, and Nash took a seat behind the desk.
“What about Varak?” Bourne asked. “I assume that’s what you want to talk about.”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to kill him?”
“No. Actually, I want you to stay away from him. Those are Holly’s orders.”
Bourne’s face creased in confusion. “You’re letting him go? Varak is Genesis. He controls the money, the assets. Even if you shut down the Pyramid, he’ll simply reconfigure it in another form. You won’t stop anything.”
“Obviously. Varak has to be dealt with.”
“Then what am I missing?” Bourne asked.
“Varak is out of the country for a week. He’s leading a convention of nonprofits in Lisbon. It’s too risky to make any move on him there. Once he’s back in the Hamptons, we’ll be able to eliminate him.”
“How?”
Nash’s eyes turned cold. “That’s not your concern.”
“Not my concern? Why does Holly want me out of the loop? I know she prides herself on playing three-dimensional chess, but I don’t see what she’s trying to do here.”
“Let it go, Jason,” Nash repeated.
Bourne shook his head and got out of the chair. He turned for the door, then stopped. Suddenly, he understood. He knew exactly what the CIA was planning. “Lennon.”
Nash said nothing.
“Lennon,” Bourne said again, turning around. “Putin wants Lennon back on his payroll, but he doesn’t want any more heat from the U.S. So he makes a deal. Lennon takes out Varak and, in return, he can start working for the Russians again. And what else do we get? What’s the other piece of the puzzle? There has to be more to the deal than that. Why is Holly intent on using an outsider?”
“In this case, I don’t know any more than you do,” Nash replied.
“In one week, Varak will be back at his estate in the Hamptons,” Bourne protested. “Lennon will be there, too. This is my chance to get him.”
Nash stood up, leaning across the desk. “Let me be very clear, Jason. Stand down. Lennon’s not your problem anymore. That search is done. Over. Go back to Paris, and figure out a new life for yourself. Bring Abbey Laurent with you, if you want. But stay clear of Lennon. If you don’t, Holly assures me that she’ll have you killed.”
The New York skyline glowed like fire through the windows of the suite in the Carlyle Hotel. It was almost two in the morning. Jason watched Abbey standing near the glass, the curves of her naked body in shadow. He came up from behind and slid his arms around her, with her breasts resting in his palms. She leaned her head back against his chest, a little purr in her throat. When she turned around, they kissed, and their bodies molded together. Then he picked her up and carried her back to bed.
The week they’d spent in the hotel together had felt like a vacation from reality. They’d gone to Broadway shows and walked through the park. They’d toured the museums and eaten hot dogs at a Yankees game. They’d drunk wine and made love until their bodies were sated. Time had slowed down along the way, but even slow time eventually ticked on to its inevitable end.
Varak would be back at his estate in the Hamptons the following night. Lennon would be there.
So would Jason.
They hadn’t talked about the future. All week, that subject had been off-limits. What they would do when he came back. What she would do if he didn’t come back. But suddenly, the future was the present, and they didn’t have any choice.
“I heard from Peter Chancellor,” Abbey murmured as they lay next to each other in bed, both staring at the ceiling. “He’s been watching the news all week. Adamson’s resignation. Exposing the lies about me and Saira. He knows something big has been going down behind the scenes.”
“Does he still want you to work with him on his next book?”
“Yes, he does.”
“And you’re going to?”
“I am. I mean, I like having my old life back. Not being an outcast anymore. Nash came through on that score. Half the people still think the truth about me is a lie, but I don’t care. If I wanted to be a reporter again, I could. I’ve already gotten job offers. But after what we’ve been through, I’ve realized that Chancellor is right. Sometimes there’s more truth to be told in fiction. The government left me with a gag order about everything I know, so if I can’t tell the real story, I can turn it into a novel. Let people decide for themselves if it really happened that way.”
“What’s Chancellor going to call the book?” Bourne asked with a smile. “I suppose it will be Pyramid!”
Abbey laughed, too. “Probably. I’m okay with that.”
Then the laughter between them bled away. She rolled over on top of his body, and she propped herself above him, with her hands on either side of his chest. Her face was very close to his. Her skin was warm all over. “Tell me something. If I asked you not to go after Lennon, what would you do?”
“I’d stay with you.”
“Because you know I can’t ask you that,” she said.
Bourne shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Are the answers really worth it? Worth dying for? Worth losing me?”
“I don’t know, Abbey. I don’t even know the questions. But they’re keeping secrets from me. Not just Lennon. Holly Schultz and the CIA. Nash and Treadstone. There’s something in my past they will do anything to hide from me. The only way to be free is to find out what it is.”
Abbey rolled off him again. “Then I guess you have to go.”
“I do.”
“I’m not going to wait for you here, Jason. I’m sorry. I’m not going to sit in a hotel and wonder if you’re alive or dead. My old professor, Walden Thatcher, called me. He asked me to stop by his place. He wants to congratulate me on recovering my career. And I imagine he wants to know what I found out about the Pyramid, even though I can’t really tell him anything. So I’m going to visit him, and after that, I’ll go to Peter Chancellor’s home in Pennsylvania to start the book.”
“Okay.”
“If you want to come back to me, that’s where I’ll be.”
“I’ll always come back to you,” Jason said.
Abbey kissed him. “That’s sweet. But don’t make promises you can’t keep.”