Ewen settled into a leather chair and pulled out the laptop. His fingers trembled slightly as he opened the file containing the article. If Brenner noticed, he didn’t say anything about it.
“Lamont mentioned you have a story involving American defense contracts,” Brenner began. His English carried a precise German accent. “Before we discuss details, I need to understand the scope. Are we talking about simple fraud, or something more serious?”
“Corporate manslaughter,” Ewen said. The words came out steadily despite his nerves. “In short, it involves the systematic falsification of safety tests, bribery of government officials, and at least forty-three dead American soldiers over four years because of it.”
Brenner’s expression didn’t change, but he leaned forward slightly. “That’s quite an accusation. What evidence do you have?”
This is it.Nervous, Ewen walked him through it - starting with Cortesi’s story, then moving to the documentation. He pulled up the maintenance logs showing repeated armor failures, the comparison between original specifications and actual manufacturing specs, and the financial records proving bribes to Winters, Paulson, and Channing.
“I have signed affidavits from three former Hardline employees confirming the material substitutions,” Ewen continued. “Field reports from multiple incidents where the armor failed, andcasualty reports that the Pentagon tried to classify. There is also a direct paper trail connecting the Department of Defense to Hardline through Winters’ daughter’s consulting firm.”
Brenner took the USB drive Ewen offered and plugged it into his own laptop. For several long minutes, the only sound was the clicking of keys as he navigated through the files. Ewen’s heart hammered against his ribs. It was one thing to believe in the story so entirely, but showing it to someone else was always nerve racking, especially with a story that had the potential to blow people’s careers out of the water. Beside him, Lamont radiated calm confidence through their bond, an anchor that kept Ewen from spiraling into a complete panic.
“This is extraordinary work,” Brenner said finally, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve got to commend you for the meticulous documentation, but I have questions.”
“Of course.”
“You worked for The New York Times. Why bring this to Der Spiegel instead of publishing with your own outlet?”
Ewen had practiced this answer with Lamont. “Because two days after I was kidnapped in Egypt, someone from the U.S. government met with The Times’ publisher. Within hours, my employment records were scrubbed, my office was cleaned out, and my editor was told to stop asking questions about my disappearance. They’re calling it a sabbatical now. A misunderstanding, apparently.”
“But you weren’t on sabbatical.”
“I was being held in a basement by private security contractors while a woman interrogated me about my sources.” Ewen met Brenner’s eyes. “The man I was supposed to meet in Cairo - a quality control supervisor from Hardline’s Egyptian facility - was killed in a car bombing disguised as a terrorist attack whileI was in that basement. My captors told me it had happened. My primary source, Sergeant Cortesi, died in a suspicious car accident three months ago. I don’t think I’m being paranoid if I suggest there’s a bit of a pattern here.”
Brenner sat back, fingers steepled. “You understand that publishing this story will make you a target.”
“I’m already a target,” Ewen said flatly. “Publishing is the only way to make sure I don’t disappear permanently.”
“And you?” Brenner turned to Lamont. “What is your involvement in this?”
“Ewen is my partner.” Lamont’s voice was firm, despite the casual tone. “I’m here to make sure this story gets published before anyone else dies trying to bury it.”
Brenner studied them both for a long moment. Then he smiled, and Ewen recognized it for what it was. The smile of a man who’d snapped a prize he knew others would be frothing at the mouth over. “Der Spiegel has a long history of exposing corruption, Mr. Cross. If your documentation holds up under verification, we would be honored to publish your work.”
Relief flooded through Ewen so strongly that his fox nearly surged forward. “Thank you. I…”
“However,” Brenner interrupted, “I have conditions.”
Ewen’s stomach dropped. “What conditions?”
“First, our investigative team will need to verify everything. I want independent confirmation of the financial records, interviews with the former Hardline employees if possible, and verification from military sources about the casualty reports.” Brenner tapped the desk. “This is too important to get wrong.”
“Of course.” Ewen had expected that. “How long will verification take?”
“Two weeks, perhaps three.”
“That’s too long.” Lamont leaned forward. “Every day we wait is another day for Arcturus to eliminate witnesses or destroy evidence.”
Brenner’s expression hardened. “And every mistake we make gives Hardline and their government allies ammunition to discredit the entire story. We do this right, or we don’t do it at all.”
“Can we coordinate with other outlets?” Ewen asked. “Simultaneous publication across multiple countries. That way, even if one gets pressured to pull the story…”
“The others still run it,” Brenner finished. “Yes, that’s smart. Who did you have in mind?”
“The Guardian, Le Monde, maybe NRC Handelsblad.” Lamont counted them off. “Outlets with strong investigative traditions and independence from American political pressure.”
Brenner nodded slowly. “I can make those calls. We’ve worked with Guardian before on cross-border investigations. But understand I’m going to insist Der Spiegel gets first rights. We publish the full investigation, and the others can run their own versions, citing our reporting.”