Page 65 of Dead Fall

“You’re right,” he said. “I admit it.”

“But,” she replied, knowing he was going to offer some sort of justification.

“No buts. The Russians are waging a disinformation campaign against us. They’re counting on the fact that we’ll obey every one of our own laws. They’re expecting us not to color outside the lines, even if it means doing so would save our country and put them in the fucking ground.”

Fields’s eyes went wide. “Now look who’s using the F-word.”

“Marquess of Queensberry Rules, the Geneva and Hague Conventions,” he said, plowing forward, “what people never talk about is that those guidelines, those rulebooks, only matter when both sides agree to be bound by them.”

“So, holding ourselves, and thereby America, to a higher standard doesn’t matter?”

“Of course it matters,” Carolan responded. “But only if we win.”

“I’m sorry?”

“No one is going to care, especially not the citizens we’re responsible for protecting, if we lose, but we did so honorably. A code of conduct is a wonderful thing to have, right up to the moment the enemy is burning our houses down and slaughtering our children. We’re fighting with our arms and our legs tied behind our backs.”

“If you don’t like the rules,” said Fields, “maybe it’s time to find another game.”

“Maybe you’re right,” the man agreed. “Maybe it is time for me to find another game. To be honest, there are days where I just don’t know anymore. But I can tell you this with full certainty: today isn’t one of those days.”

“So, because you believe we’re ‘at war,’ you’re going to get your yippee-ki-yay on and violate the civil liberties of an American citizen, a journalist no less. Is that about right?”

“This guy,” said Carolan as he pointed to the folder he was holding, “Mike Taylor, has a rap sheet. Three priors.”

“All misdemeanors.”

“He’s also a white nationalist.”

“Allegedly.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

Fields looked at him. “Why? Because I’m Black? I don’t care if the guy’s an armband-wearing Nazi. If he’s a law-abiding citizen, he’s entitled to his rights. In fact, even if he breaks the law, he’s still entitled to his applicable rights.”

“What about the order of protection against him on behalf of a White House staffer?”

“That’s serious, I will grant you that, but her job shouldn’t play into this. She’s his ex-fiancée. By all accounts, they had a volatile relationship.”

“Which ended in the order of protection, which he violated the night of Burman’s death.”

“Because she happens to live in the same neighborhood as Burman and he came within five hundred feet of her apartment building? That’s pretty weak sauce. A technicality at best.”

Carolan raised an eyebrow. “What are laws if not a series of technicalities?”

“So, you want to use the supposed violation of the protection order to shake his tree and to see if anything falls out?”

“Yup.”

“And the FBI’s jurisdiction in this versus Metro PD is what?”

“The ex-fiancée is a federal employee. That gives us jurisdiction.”

Fields shook her head. “You’re stretching that one so thin, I can actually see through it. Next, you—”

“Like I said, you don’t have to be here.”

Holding up her hand, she said, “I’m not done yet.”

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