We Know

It took me a moment to get my head around the nurse's reporting back to Sever. Or was the room bugged?

"No," I said slowly. "Just Charlie."

"His real name was Mike Milligan."

"The guy I met in there may have been a nutcase, but he wasn't a terrorist."

"You've dealt with a lot of terrorists?" A follow-up smile sprang up fast on Sever's face, an attempt to extenuate his tone.

I fanned my thumb across the money clip. At the center of the bills, I always kept my driver's license and credit card back-to-back to protect the magnetic strip. But the credit card was flipped the wrong way. A lazy effort by whoever had searched my pockets, but then I was just an average dipshit who wouldn't notice. My heart rate ticked up another notch.

"Did you guys talk at all before we called?" Sever pressed. "You and Milligan?"

I pictured the loose flesh beneath Charlie's eye, how it hadn't moved with the rest of his face when he'd winked at me. Trust no one.

I said, "There wasn't much time."

"So does that mean 'no,' or 'a little'?" A tight smile. "He asked specifically for you. He must have said something when you first got there?"

"Nope. You pretty much blew him up first."

"Well, we can all exhale now."

"It's over?"

"Yup. Our intel shows Milligan was just a loose cannon looking to cause a disruption before the elections. We're convinced he was acting alone."

Before I could respond, the door opened and

Wydell entered breathlessly, as if he'd rushed over. He nodded at Sever, who stepped back deferentially, ceding the stage to his boss. Wydell crossed and sat bedside. "How you feeling?"

I just looked at him.

"You did a great thing."

"Listen, Mr. Wydell-"

"Joe." His lean features had arranged themselves into an accommodating expression.

"Okay, Joe. You almost killed me in there. And you lied to me-"

"We never lied to you, Nick. We misled you, and I apologize for that, but we needed you calm. You're not an agent, and unlike everyone else in L.A., you're not an actor. We couldn't send you into that building knowing you were delivering a cell phone packed with C-4. It wouldn't have worked, and if you think about it, you know that. We weren't only concerned with the bigger picture. Your own safety was at stake." Wydell studied me, waiting for a reaction he didn't get. "A major terrorist act was prevented, thanks to you."

"A major terrorist act," I repeated.

I sensed he wanted to ask if I knew that there'd been no bomb, but there was no way he could without showing his hand. Instead he said, "This can be an enormous opportunity for you. Son of a former Secret Service agent, the whole thing. We have a press conference in an hour. We'd like you to be included."

"I'm not gonna talk about my relationship with Frank."

"You don't have to. There's plenty else to talk about after what you accomplished last night."

"I'm not going to any press conference. I don't want my name released."

Sever looked surprised at that-maybe even confused. "Anything you do want?" he asked. "This is a pretty big moment for you. A lot of powerful people will be looking to express their gratitude."

I thought about what Frank had said that night I'd come upon him watching the Zapruder film, how people damn themselves with a thousand small decisions. One compromised choice leads to six more, and it goes from there.

"I don't want anything," I said. "You guys tricked me. I wasn't a hero. I was just the dupe who carried the bomb."

"I think that's the least flattering interpretation possible."

The bedside phone sounded, and Sever picked it up on a half ring. He'd been waiting right next to it. "Yes, he's here." He pressed the handset to his considerable chest. "President Bilton wants to express his gratitude to you."

I swallowed dryly. "As in the commander in chief?"

"That's right. He'll have a window in about half an hour."

I glanced from my scorched clothes to the clean white walls, my lungs feeling tight. "Sorry, but I need to get out of here. I, uh.. Claustrophobia gripped me, and I couldn't finish the thought.

Sever looked at me, his mouth slightly agape. Then he muttered something into the phone and hung up.

Wydell fixed his dark brown eyes on mine. "If you want to stay off the radar, that's fine by us. But it's important-no, essential-to national security that we don't confuse the press or the public. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

"Not really."

"The threat is over. It's important that the public be made to feel at ease again."

"Listen," I said, "I don't want to have to go home and puzzle out what you're trying to say. So just be clear about what you mean. Please."