The power that had surrounded him for a decade was evaporating in the damp air of the basement.

“Captain Merritt,” Albright said.

“Sir?” Merritt asked.

“Escort Colonel Harrington and Major Cross to the executive offices at the Pentagon.”

“They will remain there until the military police arrive to escort them to their quarters.”

“Under house arrest?” Cross asked, her voice cracking.

“Under administrative hold,” Albright said.

“The formal warrants will be issued by the federal magistrate by noon.”

“Your political allies cannot touch this, Vanessa.”

“The press has the wire transfers.”

Merritt stepped behind Cole.

“Colonel,” Merritt said.

“Please.”

Cole did not move for a long moment.

He looked at me, his eyes filled with a cold, quiet rage.

“You think you won,” he whispered.

“I didn’t win anything, Cole,” I said.

“I just stopped the bleeding.”

Cole turned and walked out of the room, his shoulders slumped.

Cross followed him, her heels clicking slower this time.

Merritt closed the door behind them.

The small office felt suddenly empty.

The air smelled of old paper and dust.

Albright turned to me.