Twelve Days by Alex Berenson Page A

happening. Ultimately, instead of running the source, he winds up quote-unquote captured by him.”
    “Did Reza capture you, Mr. Taylor?”
    Not even Carcetti had asked the question so bluntly. “I assure you, Senator, that Reza and I were in no way friends. I always felt uncomfortable at our meetings, to be honest.”
    “But there’s an even simpler form of source capture, yes?”
    Stretch the at bat . . .
“I’m not trying to be difficult, Senator, but I don’t understand the question.”
    “Then I’ll explain.” Frommer didn’t smile. “If an asset is providing uniquely valuable information, he will have a uniquely valuable effect on the career of the officer who’s handling him, yes?”
    “Possibly.”
    “You, for example. I’m sure you recognized Reza’s importance to your career.”
    Taylor’s cheeks reddened like Frommer had slapped him.
She’s the boss,
Carcetti had said.
Don’t fight her.
But Taylor couldn’t help himself. He had joined the agency after 9-11, for the right reasons, to defend his country—
    “Question my judgment, Senator, I can live with that. But don’t question my integrity. Don’t call me a careerist. Believe it or not, I know my place. I’m a small cog in a very big machine. I don’t have any plans to be DCI. Or even a station chief. I’ve never told anyone this before, but I figured on retiring after this posting. If I’ve been fooled, if I’m wrong, I expect to be disciplined. Or terminated. This isn’t about me—”
    “Mr. Taylor—”
    Never cut her off.
Taylor raised a hand. “With respect, you brought this up. I’d like the opportunity to finish—”
    “Mr. Taylor—”
    “This isn’t about me. It’s about what’s best for the country. Making sure that a nuclear weapon never explodes on American soil. I can only tell you what I saw. And I saw a man who repeatedly gave us accurate and actionable intelligence. A man who led us to 1.3 kilograms of weapons-grade uranium. As I’m sure you know, that ingot is by far the biggestpiece of nuclear material that anyone has ever found. If we prove it didn’t come from Iran, so be it. If the Iranians let us talk to their scientists, inspect their plants so we can be sure they aren’t enriching in secret, great. But until then, my money’s on Reza.”
    Taylor folded his hands on the table, waited for Frommer to rip him a new one. Instead, a smile creased her filler-plumped lips. He’d turned her around. Not just her. Senators from both parties were nodding and smiling. Each of the fifteen faces above him looked down with new respect.
    He’d
won
.
    “Mr. Taylor. I am surprised. It’s rare to have a CIA officer speak so bluntly to us. I appreciate your candor.”
    “Thank you, Senator.”
    “I know my fellow senators have questions. As is customary, members will speak in order of seniority. I remind you, you have six minutes each. Not that any of you would ever go over.” Faint laughter. “The floor is yours, Mr. Vice Chairman.”
    —
    A cakewalk followed. Three senators urged Taylor to reconsider his plans to retire. He was done and dismissed within an hour. Hebley and Carcetti, who had watched from the row behind him, met him and Hunt in an empty conference room down the hall.
    “Had me worried,” Hebley said. “But that was a complete one-eighty.”
    “Thank you, sir.”
    They shook his hand and then they were gone.
    But the real verdict came from Hunt, as they settled into the black car that would take them to Langley for a full debrief. For the second time that day, she brought her lips to his right ear. “Well done, Brian. Play your cards right, you might get laid tonight.”
    His response was immediate. And would have been embarrassing if anyone besides Hunt had been there to see it.
    “Hey ho,” she said, looking at his crotch.
    “Ho hey.” Taylor had never felt better, not even on the day he’d found the uranium itself. He had not just survived the Lion’s Den. He had made the