“That's right, it's not my problem. You're just another of my charities.”

Alex stared at him, amazed. The really amazing thing, though, was that after all this time, his callousness could still be shocking. But why would it be? When had Ben given a shit about anyone but himself?

“So let me make sure I understand. You give money to charity organizations for the benefit of remote people you'll never have to know or touch. But when someone right in front of you needs your help, you can't be bothered. Is that the way it works?”

They stared at each other for a long moment. The hell with it, Alex thought. He picked up the phone and dialed Sarah's extension.

“Sarah? Can you come down to my office right away?”

“This is bizarre. I can't find-”

“Just come now. We'll talk about it here.” He hung up and looked at Ben. “She's on her way. If you can't be bothered to even talk to her, you better leave now-unless you want to use my computer first, to donate money to one of those organizations you like. You know, so you won't be out of karmic kilter.”

Ben said nothing. He watched Alex and chewed his gum, his cheek muscles jumping.

It was the weirdest thing. After Alex had asked about his Hilzoy file, Sarah thought to check hers, too. And it was gone. She was just going to call him when he beat her to it.

She grabbed her coffee and walked down to his office. She knocked, then went to let herself in. The door was locked. That was odd, especially because Alex had just called her to tell her to come.

“It's locked,” she called out.

“Sorry,” Alex called from within. A second later, he opened the door. Sarah walked in, and as Alex closed the door behind her, she noticed a man standing against the wall. “Oh,” she said, with a start.

The man looked like a bigger, tougher version of Alex. The same blond hair, the same attractive green eyes. He was chewing gum and watching her, and there was something edgy about him, something that made her uncomfortable.

“Sarah,” Alex said, “this is my brother, Ben. Ben, this is Sarah Hosseini.”

His brother. Of course-she should have realized immediately from the resemblance. But why was he looking at her that way? As though he was… assessing her. Not sexually, either, she didn't think. His gaze was too dispassionate for that. Too tightly controlled.

“Hosseini?” Ben said, raising his eyebrows.

“Yes,” Sarah said, looking at him directly, not liking his tone. There was something knowing in it… even accusatory.

“Famileh shoma az shomaleh iran hastand? Man ye zamani yek khanevadeh hosseini mi shenakhtam ke az mashhad bodand.”

She was totally taken aback. He had just asked her in perfect Farsi whether her family was from Masshad, a city in the north. He said he had once known a Hosseini from Masshad.

“Na famileh man tehrani hastand. Hamantor ke khodet midoni hosseini esmeh rayeji ast,” Sarah replied. No, my family is from Tehran. Hosseini is a common name. As I think you must know.

Alex said, “Are you-is that Farsi?”

“Yes,” Sarah said, not taking her eyes off Ben.

“When did you learn Farsi?” Alex asked, looking at Ben.

“Correspondence course,” Ben said, still looking at Sarah.

“Your brother speaks like a native,” Sarah said. “I don't think he learned through a correspondence course. He's trying to be cute, although I don't know why. It's actually kind of rude on such short acquaintance.”

Goddamn him, the way he was looking at her. She was not going to blink.

“Yeah, he does that sometimes,” Alex said. “I wouldn't have subjected you to it if it weren't really important.”

Ben smiled at that and walked past her to one of the chairs. The smile said, Sure, you can win our little staring contest. Congratulations. It was infuriating.

Okay, she told herself. Drop it. She sat down next to Ben.

“On the phone,” Alex said, “did you start to say something was missing?”

“Yes, my file on Hilzoy. It was weird because you had just told me you couldn't find yours. What's going on?”

Alex looked at Ben and said, “Oh, man.”

“Do I need to be worried about something?” she said.

She felt Ben looking at her. “Depends on how smart you are,” he said.

She looked at him. “Assume I'm smarter than you.”

He shrugged. “Then you should be very worried.”

“Sarah,” Alex said, “I think you and I might both be in danger.”

Alex talked and Sarah listened, resisting the urge to interrupt him with questions. It was hard to know what to think. She didn't doubt the things he claimed had happened were true. She knew about Hilzoy, of course, and she could easily confirm the rest. Nor did she doubt Alex really believed there was some kind of conspiracy at work. But there had to be a rational explanation, right? People didn't kill over inventions in sunny, civilized Silicon Valley. They bought and sold, sometimes they sued, but killing?

When Alex was done, Sarah looked at Ben. “What do you have to do with all this?”

Ben shook his head. “Nothing, really.”

“Ben's in the army,” Alex said. “He knows this kind of stuff.”

“The army?” Sarah asked, still looking at Ben. “You must know a lot.”

The corner's of Ben's mouth moved just slightly, as though he found her terribly amusing and wasn't quite able to conceal it. “I know a few things,” he said.

“Oh, I'm fascinated. Tell me.”

This time, he cocked his head and smiled. She had never seen a more patronizing look.

“Oh, come on,” she said. “Won't you at least try to bring me up to speed on how driving a tank, or shooting a rifle, or requisitioning supplies, or whatever it is you do, qualifies you to ‘know this kind of stuff?”

Ben's eyes narrowed slightly. He watched her, his gaze as forceful as it was quiet, and Sarah had the sense of tremendous pressure and tremendous control in uneasy equipoise. There was something dangerous about this man and she realized she was foolish to push him. But at the same time, that façade of tight control, and the condescension that so far was all he had permitted her to see… she couldn't just let it go.

“I don't drive tanks,” he said, after a moment. “It's been a while since I shouldered a rifle. And I don't requisition many supplies.”

“You must be very special, then.” God, what was she doing? Why did she want so badly to… what? Provoke him? Rattle him? Trip him up somehow? Force a crack in that carefully constructed façade of condescension?

“Oh, I'm really nothing special. Not compared to, say, a lawyer. I mean, you guys, you're the special ones. Top of the food chain. People like me, we're just humble servants.”

“Guys,” Alex started to say, but Sarah cut him off.

“Tell me then,” she said. “What kind of service do you perform?”

“I just keep people like you safe, that's all. It's nothing important, really.”

She caught that. Keeping her safe wasn't important. “How, then? All you've told me is what you don't do.”

He paused as though considering. “I neutralize threats so lawyers can go on earning big bucks and swilling overpriced lattes. It's a dirty job, but someone's gotta do it.”

He wasn't just showing her condescension, she realized. Condescension was what was he was intentionally showing her. Beneath that, implicit, was an entire worldview in which people like Ben were martyrs and people like Sarah were yuppie sheep, ingrates, whatever. Play to that, she thought, knowing she was being immature and possibly even dangerously foolish, but too fascinated to see what would happen to stop herself.

“How noble of you. What sorts of threats, though? And how do you neutralize them? It all must be very dangerous.” She didn't hold back on a single iota of the contempt she felt.