Eternal Empire by Alec Nevala-Lee

“Unfortunately, time is a rare commodity these days.”
    Wolfe wanted to say that was common sense, but she held her tongue. The hearing was being held in a conference room in Victoria, not far from New Scotland Yard. She was seated alone at one of four folding tables that had been set up in a square. At the other three sat the nine members of the board, along with Dana Cornwall, the deputy director of the intelligence directorate. Asthana was somewhere behind her, her presence comforting but unseen.
    The director general, a bespectacled civil servant with long white hands, was the next to speak. “We’ve reviewed your decision logs. At the moment, we have no physical evidence and a very tenuous link to Rogozin, who can be held for only five more days without charges.”
    â€œFive days is a long time,” Wolfe said. “We’re going through his files and contacts now. I’m confident that we’ll emerge with a case for the Crown that Rogozin was Karvonen’s handler.”
    The chairman nodded sourly. “Except that Karvonen was shot twice before he could be questioned.”
    Dana Cornwall broke in. The deputy director had aged visibly in the past six months, but she was still an attractive older woman with a manner that commanded attention. “That’s bloody unfair. Wolfe had no alternative.”
    â€œI’m well aware of that,” the chairman said sharply. “No one here is questioning the present officer’s bravery. But in my report, I have no choice but to consider the larger picture.”
    As she listened, Wolfe reflected that the chairman was a lifetime bureaucrat with no law enforcement experience who had been in his current position for less than two years. “I’m still not sure what you mean by this.”
    The chairman leaned forward. “This case has been a disaster for this agency. Karvonen was allowed to commit several murders practically under our noses, and we were unable to prevent him from carrying out a major act of terrorism. Not to mention the issue of Arnold Garber, an officer who appears to have passed information freely to Russia and may still be doing so as we speak—”
    â€œAnd it happened at the worst possible time,” the director general put in. “This agency is already under scrutiny. In my capacity as head of operations, I’m obliged to evaluate your ongoing involvement with this investigation, considering your public connection to Rogozin—”
    Wolfe focused on a point on the wall above the director general’s head. “What does that have to do with the merits of the case?”
    The director general was eyeing her coolly. “Are you denying that you have a personal stake in the outcome?”
    â€œNot at all,” Wolfe said. “But this has nothing to do with my actions, which I carried out in the mutual interest of both our countries.”
    Even as Wolfe spoke, she heard how naïve this sounded. With the agency on the verge of being reorganized, officers and directors alike were scrambling to position themselves. In any merger, there would always be reductions, and she had no illusions about her own invulnerability.
    She chose her next few words with care. “I’m aware that the review process is necessary. But I stand by my decision. All I ask is a chance to see the rest of this through, within the legal period of detention.”
    The chairman glanced around at the other board members. “Your request has been duly noted. The secretary will testify before the Home Affairs Select Committee next week as to whether this detention is an appropriate use of resources. I only wish we had better news to share.”
    With that, the hearing adjourned. As Wolfe got up to leave, the members of the board remained seated, talking quietly among themselves, their eyes looking everywhere but in her direction. Her partner was standing behind her. “Come on,” Asthana