"I know. But he doesn't believe that yet. Still thinks he's the monster the Committee made him." Khalid stands, picks up his book. "Your investigation proves Morrison was guilty of war crimes. Maybe it also proves Dylan made the right choice by saving me instead of following orders."
He leaves before I can respond. Quiet as he arrived. A ghost moving through a house full of ghosts.
The recorder sits on my desk. Khalid's testimony is exactly what I needed. Detailed, credible, devastating. A survivingwitness describing systematic mass murder authorized by a general who thought he was above the law.
But listening to him describe his family's death in that detached voice makes the cost clear. Not just the sources who died because I asked questions. Not just the civilians caught in crossfire. But the survivors who have to relive their trauma so strangers can understand what happened.
Khalid's willing to pay that cost. The question is whether I'm willing to let him.
The door opens. Dylan appears, coffee in hand. He glances at the recorder, then at me.
"Khalid talked."
"He gave me everything I need to prove Morrison authorized chemical weapons testing on civilian populations. His testimony is powerful."
"His testimony puts a target on his back." Dylan sets the coffee down. Leans against the wall with his arms crossed. "Committee will know he's cooperating. They'll escalate. Try to eliminate him before he can testify in court."
"You won't let that happen."
"I can't guarantee his safety. Nobody can. Khalid testifies, he becomes priority one on their elimination list. Right next to you."
"He understands the risk. He's willing to take it."
"He's fifteen. He doesn't understand what it means to live under constant threat of assassination. Doesn't understand what it's like to never feel safe again."
"He already lives like that. Has been since you pulled him out of that well. Khalid's trauma doesn't end because we keep him away from this investigation. It ends when Webb and everyone like him are in prison where they can't hurt anyone else."
"Or it ends when the Committee puts a bullet in his head because he was stupid enough to testify against them."
"Then we make sure they can't get to him. You're good at keeping people alive. Kane runs one of the most secure operations I've ever seen. Between all of you, Khalid is probably safer here than anywhere else in the world."
Dylan doesn't respond. Just stares at me with that intensity that makes me feel cataloged and assessed.
"You're getting attached."
"To what?"
"To the idea that this investigation matters. That exposing Morrison's crimes and taking down Webb makes up for the people who died getting you here. That justice is enough." Dylan pushes off the wall. "It's not. Justice is cold comfort when you're standing over fresh graves. And it's no comfort at all when those graves belong to people you convinced to help you."
"So I should give up? Let Webb walk free because fighting the Committee is too dangerous?"
"You should understand that winning doesn't feel like you think it will. Webb in prison doesn't bring back Ellen or Charlie. Doesn't undo what happened to Khalid's village. Doesn't make any of this worth what it cost."
"Then why are you fighting?"
"Because sitting still means letting them win. And I'm too stubborn to do that." Dylan's expression changes slightly. "But I'm not under any illusions that winning makes me a good person. It just makes me slightly less bad than I was yesterday."
No self-pity. No justification. Just acknowledgment that redemption doesn't erase what you've done.
"Khalid trusts you enough to help me. That means something."
"Khalid trusts me because I'm the one who pulled him out of hell. But trust based on desperation isn't the same as trust based on worthiness." Dylan heads toward the door. "Get some rest. We start fresh tomorrow. Tommy's found access to the archivedpersonnel records. We'll know by morning whether Webb was Morrison's second-in-command or if there's someone above both of them."
He's almost out the door when I speak.
"Where does Khalid sleep?"
Dylan pauses. "Down the hall. Why?"
