Free Extraordinary Rendition by Paul Batista

when you and your client appear in court tomorrow. That way you can spend the night with it. It might help you.”
    Byron said, “I appreciate that, too.”
    “And we are also going to give you something else, if you can guarantee me that you’ll keep it to yourself and your client only, not share it with anyone else.”
    Byron painfully remembered the steps of the courthouse in Miami when he had been taken aback by the reporters and cameras on the scorching plaza. He felt at the time that he had been exposed as an amateur. “Maybe before we go any further,Mr. Rana, you should tell me what you want me to keep so confidential.”
    “Fair enough. It’s a highly classified report we’ve prepared explaining in detail the allegations about money laundering and money transfers that are mentioned in the indictment. It provides details ordinarily not seen in an indictment.”
    “Such as?”
    “Account numbers your client may have used. Wiring instructions he might be familiar with.”
    “Why give me that?”
    “We want to make sure that in the long run no one will accuse us of having been unfair to you or your client. We know how very rare this case is, so we’re taking the unusual step of giving you and your client the kind of blueprint of our case you would expect to see at trial, not now, so that we can’t be accused of having held onto the company secrets and taken advantage of you by springing information for the first time at trial.”
    “It sounds interesting.”
    “And maybe once your client sees what we know—as well as what we believe he knows—he’ll see the wisdom in pleading guilty and cooperating with us.”
    Byron paused, uncertain about whether to accept the offer. Rana, a skillful man, waited. And then Byron said, “Sure.”
    “No one other than you and your client sees it, at least for now. Agreed?”
    “Agreed.”
    “And we’ll make it even fairer for you: if there comes a point in time when you feel you want to share it with other people, like accountants, you can file a motion, under seal, with thejudge for permission to release it to other specific people. But you can’t release it without a court order. Fair enough?”
    “Fair enough.”
    “We’ll need to have you come downtown to pick up these two envelopes yourself. We don’t want to risk emails, pdfs, or messengers. This is hand-to-hand contact, Mr. Johnson.”
    Byron had been waiting for a lighthearted tone from the steady Hamerindapal Rana. Maybe, he thought, that last sentence was it. “Did you say contact or combat, Mr. Rana?”
    Rana didn’t respond to that. “There is one last thing, Mr. Johnson, so that you’re not surprised.”
    “What?”
    “The death penalty, Mr. Johnson. The government is seeking the death penalty.”
    Christina was dressed in Byron’s comfortable button-down Brooks Brothers shirt and nothing else. He saw below the tapered edge of the shirt’s hem the alluring curve of her ass and glimpses of the hair surrounding her vagina.
    As he slipped the documents out of both envelopes Hal Rana had given him, she said, “Want some coffee, Carlos?”
    “What would Gloria Steinem say about a smart modern woman making coffee for a guy?
    “Baby, do you know how over Gloria Steinem is?”
    He smiled at her. “Black, no sugar.”
    Throughout his career Byron had had an intense capacity to concentrate, a kind of trance focused entirely on the words in front of him or the face of a witness during one of the thousands of depositions he had taken over the years. Thatsame trance happened now, that cone of silence, as he turned the pages of the indictment and the report stamped on every page with the words “Confidential—National Security Information.” He never touched the mug of coffee Christina placed in front of him.
    When the trance was broken, he slipped the documents back into their envelopes. Christina had turned the lights on in the kitchen while Byron was reading. It was almost entirely dark outside.