STILL ALIVE Episodes 7 · 8 · 9 — "Publish"

 STILL ALIVE Episodes 7 · 8 · 9 — "Publish" VIDEO

"Twelve Hours"

Nora. Hostel room. Door blocked with a chair. Recording standing up.

    "It's 9 PM."

    "Gray still isn't answering."

    "R is in this city."

    "Carol needs twelve hours."

    "We don't have twelve hours."

    "But we don't have another option either."

THE WAIT

Twelve hours.

I counted them since Carol's message.

One. Two. Three.

Each hour that passed was an hour R had to find me.

I moved three times that night.

Hostel. 24-hour café. Closed metro station with a wooden bench.

Never more than two hours in the same place.

Nora. Dark circles. Clothes from the previous day. Recording from a phone propped against the wall.

At one in the morning Gray answered.

One message.

Just one.

    "I'm fine. Don't seek contact. Trust Carol."

Three sentences.

The first one relieved me.

The second one worried me.

The third one told me everything I needed to know.

Gray was compromised.

Not captured.

Compromised.

Which means someone had him under surveillance.

And that any contact with me was a risk for both of us.

CAROL

At four in the morning Carol sent me a message.

    "Verified. Everything verified. We publish at 7 AM."

I closed my eyes.

Two years.

Seven in the morning.

Three hours.

Nora. Sitting on the station floor. Back against the wall.

I thought of Prague.

The cold. The eleven days. The three countries.

I thought of the empty apartment when I returned.

The neighbor's cat watching me from the hallway as if I were a ghost.

Technically I was.

I thought of R signing my death certificate.

With what face she would do it.

If she doubted for a second.

If she felt anything.

Nora looks at camera.

Probably not.

That's what makes R dangerous.

It's not evil.

It's efficiency.

I'm a problem to solve.

A file to close.

That's all.

Nora stands up. Picks up the backpack.

At six thirty I walked toward the Mall.

I wanted to be outdoors when it published.

I don't know why.

Maybe because two years in small rooms make you need the sky when something ends.

Nora walking. Dawn over Washington. Monuments. Silence.

At 6:58 the phone vibrated.

Carol.

    "Two minutes."

Nora stopped in the center of the Mall.

Looked at the sky.

Waited.

The phone. 7:00 AM. One notification. The article published.

Article title pixelated. But the viewer sees the words AGENCY. CORRUPTION. NAMES.

    "Thirty seconds after publishing the article I received a call. Agency number. Official. I recognized the prefix. I answered. On the other side a voice that wasn't R. It was a man. Calm. Institutional. 'Miss Voss. Welcome back. We need to talk.'"

"The Call"

Nora. Phone to ear. Washington Mall. Immovable for the first time.

    "The agency called me thirty seconds after the article published."

    "Thirty seconds."

    "That's not reaction."

    "That's preparation."

    "Someone inside knew I was going to publish."

THE VOICE

I didn't hang up.

Two years dead and the agency calls me thirty seconds after I publish.

There are two explanations.

First. They tracked me and were waiting for the moment.

Second. Someone inside wanted me to publish. And was waiting to act afterward.

I listened.

Nora. Narrating the call in voice-over.

The voice identified himself as Deputy Inspector General.

An internal oversight office.

Independent from operations.

Independent from R.

    —"We've been investigating the Director for fourteen months," he said.

    —"Then you have what you need without me."

    —"We have enough to investigate." — Pause. — "Your evidence is enough for conviction."

Silence.

    —"Why should I trust you?"

    —"You shouldn't." — Voice direct. No beating around the bush. — "But you have two options. Trust us. Or continue alone with R in this city."

    —"There's a third option."

    —"Which?"

    —"That Carol's article does the work without me having to trust anyone."

Silence on the other side.

Longer than normal.

    —"The article is enough for the public," he said finally. — "It's not enough for a criminal conviction. The evidence needs a chain of custody. It needs a verifiable source."

    —"A source who is officially dead."

    —"That's a problem we can solve."

Nora. Processing. Looking around. The Mall. People. Normal. Everything normal.

    —"How long has R been in D.C.?"

    —"She arrived last night." — Pause. — "We have her located."

    —"And her two companions?"

Brief silence.

    —"How do you know about the companions?"

    —"I have my sources."

Another silence.

    —"Miss Voss. Where are you right now?"

Nora looked around once more.

    —"Somewhere safe."

    —"We need a meeting point."

    —"I choose the point."

    —"Agreed."

    —"And you come alone. No team. No official cars."

    —"Agreed."

    —"If I see something I don't like..."

    —"You disappear. We understand." — Pause. — "Miss Voss. We've been trying for fourteen months to reach where you reached in two years alone. That's not ignored."

Nora. First time something yields in her face. Just a second.

She gave him the address.

A small café. University neighborhood.

Fifty minutes.

She hung up.

Looked at the sky again.

Then the phone.

Wrote to Gray.

    "Deputy Inspector General?"

Ten seconds.

    "Clean. Trust."

Two words.

From Gray.

Enough.

    "I arrived at the café ten minutes early. I ordered coffee. Waited. At forty-five minutes the man from the call entered. Alone. As agreed. He sat down. Opened his mouth to speak. And at that moment my phone vibrated. Message from Carol. A single line. 'R just entered the newspaper building.'"

"R In The Room"

Nora. Standing. Coat on. Already moving.

    "R entered the newspaper."

    "Carol is alone."

    "The Deputy Inspector General is in front of me."

    "I have to choose."

    "In three seconds."

THE CHOICE

I looked at the Deputy Inspector General.

I put the phone on the table. Carol's message visible.

He read it.

He stood up at the same time I did.

    —"I have a team six minutes from the newspaper," he said.

    —"Six minutes is too long."

    —"It's what we have."

    —"Then I'm going first."

    —"Miss Voss..."

    —"Six minutes." — I put on my coat. — "You arrive in six minutes."

I left.

THE NEWSPAPER

Four blocks running.

This time yes, running.

Let them see me. Doesn't matter.

R already knows I'm in D.C.

The newspaper building was a modern block. Glass and steel.

Reception open to the public.

I entered.

Young receptionist.

    —"Carol Marsh," I said. — "Urgent."

    —"Do you have an appointment?"

    —"No. Tell her it's Nora."

The receptionist called.

I waited ten seconds.

    —"You can go up. Fourth floor."

Elevator.

Fourth floor.

Long hallway. Open newsroom. Journalists. Screens. Normal noise.

Carol came out of a glass room.

Tense face.

    —"She's here," she said in a low voice.

    —"Where?"

    —"Meeting room at the end. With my editor." — Pause. — "She arrived with federal credentials. She's asking us to withdraw the article."

    —"They can't force you."

    —"I know. My editor knows." — Carol looked toward the room. — "But R didn't come to convince. She came to intimidate."

Nora. Looking toward the glass room at the end. R from behind. Dark suit. Hair pulled back.

First time seeing her in two years.

Four years working for her.

Four years believing she protected me.

Nora. Very low voice.

She's smaller than I remembered her.

Power makes people bigger in your memory.

Reality shrinks them.

    —"What are you going to do?" Carol asked.

Nora didn't answer immediately.

Looked down the hallway.

The glass room.

R talking with the editor.

Without knowing Nora was twenty meters away.

THE ROOM

I entered the glass room.

Carol tried to stop me.

She couldn't.

R turned when I opened the door.

The editor looked at both of us.

Silence.

R didn't lose composure.

Not for a second.

I admire that. Even though I hate her.

    —"Miss Voss," she said. Same as the newspaper voice. Institutional. Calm. — "What a surprise."

    —"It's not."

    —"No." — Almost smiled. — "I suppose not."

The editor stood up.

    —"I'm going to need a moment with..."

    —"Stay," I said. — "What I have to say, everyone can hear."

I sat down facing R.

R sat down too.

As if it were a work meeting.

As if we had an agenda.

    —"The article is already published," I said.

    —"Articles can be withdrawn."

    —"Evidence can't."

    —"Evidence needs context." — R. Cold. Precise. — "Documents taken out of context can be misinterpreted."

    —"I have fourteen months of investigation from the Deputy Inspector General that provide the context."

Something changed in R's face.

Just a second.

Just one.

    —"When did they contact you?"

    —"This morning."

    —"And you already trust them?"

    —"I trust that they want the same thing I do."

    —"Nora." — First time she used my name. — "You've been alone for two years. Scared. Moving nonstop." — Pause. — "That changes how you see things."

    —"You declared me dead."

    —"It was necessary."

    —"For you."

    —"For the operation."

Nora. Face still. Inside everything burns.

    —"How many operations did you sell, R?"

Silence.

    —"How many assets are dead because of what you did?"

More silence.

    —"How many names are in those Cayman accounts?"

R looked at her.

Long.

Without answering.

Elevator. Footsteps. The Deputy Inspector General entering the newsroom.

R heard the footsteps.

Looked toward the hallway.

Saw the Deputy Inspector General.

Saw the two agents behind him.

Looked back at Nora.

    —"It had to end somehow," R said. Voice different. Lower. For the first time something human.

    —"Yes," said Nora. — "This is the way."

The Deputy Inspector General entering the room. R without moving. Nora neither.

    "R was arrested that morning. Red and Gold in the following forty-eight hours. Blue never appeared. Neither did Gray. Carol's article reached forty million readers in twenty-four hours. And me. I was still dead on paper. The Deputy Inspector General said they could fix it. That they could restore my name. My file. My life. He asked me if I wanted it. I took longer to answer than I expected."