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about it. I can’t prove it happened, there’s no record of it, no evidence, and even if there was, how would I get access to that? Gideonhas closed ranks.’ I point at the letter on the table. ‘And it’s pretty clear they’re now on the attack as well. This is a massive corporation, Kate, with massive financial resources.’
    ‘All the more reason why they shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this.’
    ‘Yeah, but,’ – it’s hard not to bang my fist on the table here – ‘shouldn’t be allowed how ?’
    Kate gets up, stands at the window looking out. There’s nothing to see except the back of another apartment building – other windows, other lives.
    ‘This shit’s been in my head since it happened, Kate, every single day. I’ve replayed it a thousand times, rearranged it. I have versions where I intervene, versions where it still plays out but afterwards I’m listened to, versions where what you want to happen happens. They’re not real, though. What’s real is that I’m actually powerless to do anything.’
    She turns around. ‘But the law, Danny—’
    ‘The law ? The law is what shuts it all down. Let’s say I go to someone with these accusations, the cops, a media outlet even. Fine. But they’re going to bring in legal counsel, and believe me, ten minutes of that and we’re done . Sajit? Sajit who ? I don’t know the guy’s full name, don’t know anything about him. End of story. Say it goes further, though. How long you think before Gideon comes out with claims that I’m unstable, that I have a history of so-called mental problems?’ I pick the letter up again from the table. ‘ This is the law. I mean, look, GO-1C? You know what that is? Prohibited activities for military personnel within a US Central Command zone. But it also applies to civilian contractors. And that’s me . So participating in a fucking riot? Which I guarantee is how they’ll frame it? I wouldn’t stand a chance. The law is all on their side, Kate.’ I shake the letter. ‘And this is a pre-emptive strike.’
    ‘What . . . you mean you could face charges?’
    ‘In theory.’
    ‘Jesus.’
    ‘If they push it. If I push them . Which is probably what this is really about.’
    ‘Well . . . couldn’t . . .’
    I wait, but she caves in, sits down again. She puts her head in her hands and sighs. ‘This is fucking horrible, Danny.’
    ‘I know.’
    I look at the open laptop in front of her, the notebook beside it, her neat handwriting, the coffee mug. I shouldn’t have come back and disturbed her. I should have just let her be.
    ‘Look, Kate,’ I say, ‘losing my last pay cheque is bad enough, but if I get tied up in legal shit with these people, I’ll never get out from under it. And if I get charged? There’s no telling where that goes, and no fucking end to the collateral consequences either – if I ever need to take out a mortgage, or look for certain kinds of work, or, I don’t know, apply for stuff . . .’ I pause, feeling anxious about everything now, even the pronouns I’m using. ‘So, maybe . . .’
    She looks up. ‘Yeah?’
    ‘So maybe what I have to do is make contact here, and . . . let them know I’m not a threat.’
    There it is. Capitulation, surrender, the exact opposite of what Kate was proposing two minutes ago.
    But I’ve said it, and now it’s out in the open.
    I lay the letter on the table and smooth the edges flat with my hand. ‘There’s a phone number,’ I say. ‘They have offices on Third Avenue. I could call them. I might not get through to anyone who’ll talk to me, but it’s worth a shot.’
    Kate is struggling. I can see it. She wants to be sympathetic, to be reasonable, but she can’t quite get there – can’t quite get with the capitulation and the surrender. And I don’t blame her. I was never in Zuccotti Park, but she actually was, and although that’s a long time ago now, and she’s been through a lot since, the experience of being down