Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 158 A clever plan
4:15 a.m., Federal Law Enforcement Office.

Meeting room B-4.

The room was small, and the glass door was completely covered by a heavy curtain.

The room was dimly lit, and the walls were made of light gray sound-absorbing panels.

Natalie sat at the table, wearing a dark gray jacket.

She placed her hands on her knees, with an unopened bottle of water and a blank yellow legal memo in front of her.

She didn't touch the water or the pen.

Morgan stood a short distance away, staring at the video camera in the corner.

If the indicator light is off, it means that the "formal procedure" has not yet started.

He glanced down at his watch.

Twelve hours had passed since the woman was brought in.

For a media professional, especially a journalist who has received reactive training, this period of time is enough for her to clarify several key understandings:
She has no lawyer.

She was "brought in," not "summoned."

She is currently in a gray area.

Morgan sighed and finally walked to the table.

“Natalie, we can start talking now.”

Natalie turned to look at him: "If this conversation is not within the framework of the constitution, then I have the right to refuse to answer any questions."

Morgan didn't say anything, but simply pulled up a chair, sat down, and took out a document.

The cover is light blue and has the words "JTTF-F/Coord Case Sheet" printed on it.

He didn't push it to her; he simply unfolded it and read it himself:

"You entered the Raleigh National Guard camp in North Carolina two weeks ago to interview Lieutenant David Sloan."

The interview lasted two hours and thirty-two minutes.

"After that, you did not submit any formal recordings or complete audio files to CNN."

Natalie did not deny it.

“I deleted that audio myself.” Her tone was calm. “It was too boring. David is a person without opinions.”

Morgan carefully observed her expression.

“A week after you left, the camp was attacked, resulting in the deaths of fifty-six people.”

“If you want to say I’m a spy,” Natalie replied with a smile, “then you’ll need some more creative evidence.”

Morgan didn't laugh.

“You entered the back area during the interview, which is not an open area within the press clearance.”

"I asked him if I could walk around and have a tour, and he said yes."

What photos did you take?

"A few storage rooms, some playground."

Morgan stared at her for three seconds, then took two photos out of his bag.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked.

"Military communication terminal?"

"You're not a soldier. How do you know?"

“Didn’t you already decide that I was a potential assistant?” Natalie retorted. “Then I might as well act more professional.”

Morgan did not respond.

He paused for a moment, then put the photo away.

"We will not file a lawsuit tonight, nor will we arrange for a lawyer immediately."

Natalie raised an eyebrow.

Morgan added in a low voice, "Because where you are now is outside the jurisdiction."

The woman's gaze finally turned cold.

"In other words, this is illegal detention."

“It’s not detention,” Morgan said, his tone remaining mild. “It’s just an identity check under federal security protocols.”

"You are threatening me."

“It’s not a threat,” Morgan paused, “but you need to know the consequences.”

“You will be continuously deprived of sleep, isolated, fed leading questions, recorded, edited, and reviewed.”

"Finally, they will give you a written record stating that you acknowledge that you were aware of the target's actions and had made proactive contact with them."

Natalie looked down at the note without saying a word.

Just when Morgan thought the woman had been successfully intimidated, she slowly spoke.

"This is not an investigation, it's politics."

"And you, Morgan, are the sacrifice that has been pushed to the forefront."

Now it was Morgan's turn to shut up.

“I understand, you don’t want to get involved in these dirty deals.” “Your movements, your eyes, so many subtle gestures prove that.”

"Of course, this is not because you have high moral standards."

"It's because you want to survive, to survive the fierce partisan struggle."

The room fell into dead silence.

Morgan gripped the pen in his hand, his knuckles unconsciously tightening.

Looking at him, Natalie couldn't help but feel a pang of emotion.

Everything unfolded exactly as John had predicted.

Not a single bit off.

The man's knowledge of these things was terrifying.

She paused for a moment, thinking this, before speaking again, as if she were the interrogator:
"Let's talk about reality."

"The election results will be in less than two weeks."

"According to the most neutral statement, the Democratic and Republican parties are evenly matched."

"So, guess what will happen if we win?"

Morgan swallowed hard.

Natalie leaned back in her chair, looking relaxed.
"You will not be sent to a military court, you will not be impeached, and you will not be questioned by Congress."

"You'll just have a note written on an inconspicuous internal report saying 'Unauthorized expansion of the scope of authorization without proper procedures.'"

Then, they are transferred to a non-critical department, or simply 'retired'.

"Let's try a different assumption."

At this point, Natalie had completely seized control of the conversation and was becoming increasingly adept at it.

"Even if you force me to sign a confession that I didn't do, hand it over, and make it public."

"You know my resources in the media industry."

“My father was on the Foreign Affairs Committee for decades. Those old-school left-wing media outlets will not accept this result; they will say that this testimony is slander.”

"Of course, the Republican mouthpiece will fight back, saying we are trying to divert attention."

"and then?"

How long will this back-and-forth tug-of-war last? Five days? Ten days? A month?

She looked at Morgan with a hint of pity in her eyes.

"Ordinary voters will not change their voting choices because of this."

"Do you know why?"

"Because most people have no real understanding of politics [1]."

“They have no structured preferences for candidates, and their ‘belief system’ is fragmented and pieced together temporarily.”

“You give them a statement, and they’ll just glance at the headline on their commute and listen to a few minutes of analysis during a TV commercial break.”

"Then—they turned around and cast their votes for the person they had already decided on."

"This is extremely unfortunate for you."

Morgan's eyelids twitched slightly, as if a sore spot had been hit.

Natalie suddenly stopped laughing, sat up straight, and her tone softened again:

“I understand you are under pressure, and I sympathize with your situation.”

"Therefore, I can give you a better way out."

“Let me make a phone call,” she said. “Five minutes. Call Hollen.”

"We don't want you to tip us off, we don't want you to be a spy."

"If the Republicans win the election, it will just be a minor procedural blunder."

"At most you'll be sidelined for a while, reassigned to a different position, write some reports, and then transferred back in a few years."

"And if we win—"

Natalie winked at him as she spoke, “This phone call will leave your name on some kind of list.”

Morgan's breathing paused almost imperceptibly.

He seemed to have lost all his strength, staring intently at the yellow sticky note on the table.

It hasn't moved for a long time.

Natalie didn't rush him, but waited patiently, as if she knew he would agree.

Half a minute later, Morgan nodded and then stood up.

He didn't say "okay" or "I understand".

He simply left his phone on the table and left the room.

　[1] On this point, I highly recommend a book called Democracy for Realists: Why Elections Do Not Produce Responsive Government (by Bartels, Achen)

(End of this chapter)