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Clerk of the Committee and her deputies. Most of the members had returned, but Speight was nowhere on the dais. Then she saw him, at the far end of the members’ chairs, talking to a tall man with his back to her. Speight seemed to be enjoying himself. He turned to check how things were going, realised he should resume his seat, shook the man’s hand and punched him lightly on the bicep. As he moved away, he threw a look past the man, grinned and raised his hand to someone – just a lift of the fingers, but a wave nonetheless. His interlocutor now turned and Anastasia recognised Jonathan Mobius. The person to whom Speight had semaphored his good wishes could be none other than Mila Daus. That was who the aide had been speaking to.

Anastasia whipped round to Samson, who had seen all this, and made a helpless gesture. He replied by indicating that there was something on the desk in front of her. She found a folded sheet of paper. In Samson’s neat hand were the words: ‘Martin Reid found washed up on bank of Shenandoah on Sunday morning. Reported heart attack after entering cold water on Saturday afternoon!’

She read it twice in disbelief. If Reid was dead – whether by murder, suicide or accident – why was Daus in the committee room? He had been the person tasked with persuading her to attend. Had he had time to make his case to Daus after leaving the meeting with her, Samson and Ulrike and before entering the waters of the river? It seemed unlikely. Questions swarmed in her mind, particularly concerning the reassurance she’d overheard in the bathroom. She was about to turn to Samson when Lucas gavelled the room to order and began speaking.

‘Members of Congress, ladies and gentlemen, what we have witnessed today is an offence to the Constitution of the United States of the gravest order. It is without precedent. I have consulted with the Speaker and she has made her feelings clear to the White House. I am pleased to say that we have the support of both sides of the house in our resolve that this committee must now prove to the world that the United States Congress will suffer no trespass or breach of its ancient rights by the Executive branch or any federal agency. I remind everyone in this room that one agency, and one agency alone, has jurisdiction in Congress, and that is the United States Capitol Police, which have powers in the District of Columbia, as well as across the United States, to protect and safeguard Congress and its members. The USCP is the full service – that is, independent – federal law enforcement agency that answers to the legislative branch, not the President. The Speaker and I have instructed the Chief of the USCP to secure Room 2172 for the period of this testimony. We are in lockdown. No one will leave or enter this committee and that restriction will be rigidly enforced by the USCP. That will include certain cable-news channels, which have made urgent applications to the Speaker, the Clerk and my staff.’ He stopped and looked fiercely around the room. ‘This is the second time evidence on these matters has been interrupted by outrage. There will not be a third. I hope I make myself clear.’ He glanced to his left. ‘Ranking Member, you were saying . . .’

Lucas didn’t notice the lanky youth in an oversized jacket walk hurriedly from the back of the room and sit down beside Anastasia with a computer decorated with a sticker that read: ‘The Singularity Starts Here.’

‘What the hell are you doing?’ she said to Naji.

‘Everything’s here,’ he said. ‘I copied it two nights ago when you were sleeping on the boat.’

‘It seems we have another witness, Chair,’ drawled Speight. ‘In any case, I yield my time. The questions I suggested can be asked by anyone.’

Lucas now bore down on Naji. ‘Who, sir, are you?’

‘Mrs Hisami’s adviser, Mr Chair,’ replied Naji, pleased that he had some of the protocol right and smiling idiotically.

Lucas shook his head and blinked several times. ‘You’re younger than my grandchildren. You don’t look like you have any advice to give Mrs Hisami.’

‘But I do,’ said Naji, bridling. ‘I am Naji Touma, and I am the only person here that has seen the Kurdish people fight ISIS.’

‘Is he your adviser?’ Lucas asked Anastasia.

‘He is who he says he is, but he’s not my adviser and he needs to return to his seat right now.’

Naji got up.

Samson glanced over at Daus, who for the first time was beginning to look concerned. He kept watching as Lucas turned to his right and called on Abigail Hunter, the Democrat representing Nevada’s fourth district.

In her late thirties, with blonde hair, small, polygon-shaped glasses and an earnest manner, Hunter looked surprised to be called but quickly recovered and said, ‘I’ll follow the Ranking Member’s suggestion. Why were Homeland Security here and what is on that computer?’

Anastasia paused. She didn’t know where to start.

‘You may answer now,’ said Hunter.

‘My husband, together with many others, but chiefly a former senior intelligence officer named Robert Harland who was murdered on the day of the attack here, was investigating a very large network of influence within the government, agencies and business. I believed that computer held the only copy of the dossier they had been compiling for the past two years.’

‘Have you entered evidence into the record? I have seen nothing.’

‘No, but I can certainly do so now. I was expecting to be asked and have prepared copies of my statement. They’re right here,’ she said, hefting the bundle in front of her. ‘More will be made available.’

A brash young congressman from Arizona named Daniel K. Nolan, who she had noticed was never still, put up a finger and said, ‘Point of order, Chairman! Why are we listening to this? What conceivable relevance does all this have to America’s relations with the Kurdish people? Secret networks, computer dossiers –

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