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ago—’
    ‘I thought you were going to come home more often, anyway. On the weekends.’ He heard his wife let out a breath. ‘Look, it’s late. Why don’t we both get some sleep? We can talk about this tomorrow.’
    ‘Okay. Yeah, sure. And sweetheart?’
    She waited.
    ‘Nothing’s gonna come between us, okay? This is a huge opportunity for me. And it’s something I’m really good at. I’d forgotten how good at it I am.’
    A pause.
    ‘There’s a lot you’re good at,’ his wife said. ‘You’re a good husband, and I know you’ll be a good congressman. I just don’t trust the people you’re surrounding yourself with.’
    ‘But you know I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him.’
    ‘I know.’
    ‘Look, I’ll be careful. I promise.’
    ‘Okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Sleep tight. I love you.’
    She hung up, and Donald looked down at his phone, saw that he had a dozen emails waiting for him. He decided to ignore them until morning. Rubbing his eyes, he willed himself awake, to think clearly. He shook the mouse to stir his monitors. They could afford to nap, to go dark awhile, but he couldn’t.
    A wireframe apartment sat in the middle of his new screen. Donald zoomed out and watched the apartment sink away and a hallway appear, then dozens of identical wedge-shaped living quarters squeeze in from the edges. The building specs called for a bunker that could house ten thousand people for at least a year – utter overkill. Donald approached the task as he would any design project. He imagined himself in their place, a toxic spill, a leak or some horrible fallout, a terrorist attack, something that might send all of the facility workers underground where they would have to stay for weeks or months until the area was cleared.
    The view pulled back further until other floors appeared above and below, empty floors he would eventually fill with storerooms, hallways, more apartments. Entire other floors and mechanical spaces had been left empty for Anna—
    ‘Donny?’
    His door opened – the knock came after. Donald’s arm jerked so hard his mouse went skidding off the pad and across his desk. He sat up straight, peered over his monitors and saw Mick Webb grinning at him from the doorway. Mick had his jacket tucked under one arm, tie hanging loose, a peppery stubble on his dark skin. He laughed at Donald’s harried expression and sauntered across the room. Donald fumbled for the mouse and quickly minimized the AutoCAD window.
    ‘Shit, man, you haven’t taken up day-trading, have you?’
    ‘Day-trading?’ Donald leaned back in his chair.
    ‘Yeah. What’s with the new set-up?’ Mick walked around behind the desk and rested a hand on the back of Donald’s chair. An abandoned game of FreeCell sat embarrassingly on the smaller of the two screens.
    ‘Oh, the extra monitor.’ Donald minimized the card game and turned in his seat. ‘I like having a handful of programs up at the same time.’
    ‘I can see that.’ Mick gestured at the empty monitors, the wallpaper of cherry blossoms framing the Jefferson Memorial.
    Donald laughed and rubbed his face. He could feel his own stubble, had forgotten to eat dinner. The project had only begun a week ago and he was already a wreck.
    ‘I’m heading out for a drink,’ Mick told him. ‘You wanna come?’
    ‘Sorry. I’ve got a little more to do here.’
    Mick clasped his shoulder and squeezed until it hurt. ‘I hate to break it to you, man, but you’re gonna have to start over. You bury an ace like that, there’s no coming back. C’mon, let’s get a drink.’
    ‘Seriously, I can’t.’ Donald twisted out from his friend’s grasp and turned to face him. ‘I’m working on those plans for Atlanta. I’m not supposed to let anyone see them. It’s top secret.’
    For emphasis, he reached out and closed the folder on his desk. The Senator had told him there would be a division of labor and that the walls of that divide needed to be a mile