"Are you fucking kidding me?" Carrie yelped. She slammed the phone down on the desk so hard that the attorney sitting across from her jumped an inch, rumpling his Savile Row suit.

"Everything all right?" he asked disingenuously.

"Oh, it's just great, Ari," she seethed. "I've just had my child protection hearing postponed another month."

"Oh. I'm sorry," he said, leaning back in the expensive Aeron chair. "I hope that wasn't the guardian ad litem…"

"No," she said, sighing and slumping in the seat. "That was my other attorney." She might have muttered "Christ," but her response couldn't quite be heard, as she had dropped her face into her palm.

Carrie and Otto were sitting in the 48th floor office of one of the best law firms in the city, if not the state of New York. She was supposed to be reviewing her upcoming criminal court case with her lawyer, not worrying about Franny, who was still in the custody of child protective services. Otto, sitting slightly behind her and to the right, beetled his brows in troubled regard. He leaned forward and put his hand on her shoulder, neat fingernails shiny in the discreet indirect lighting.

"Carrie. Never mind that now. We'll talk to Philip later. Ari, you were saying?"

"Yes. Miss Mathison, initially, your case appeared to be straightforward. However, having failed with our motion to dismiss, my team now understands that the background is more complex than it appears. The state's case rests on the obstruction of justice charges. But as you know, they have also been stacking other charges against you, hoping that any one of the witness to these cases will be able to bring declassified information to the court make one of them stick, and thus…"

"Thus, finding me guilty of a felony," Carrie moaned. Everything was going wrong.

"Well, that's a very far off possibility. But it could happen. At this time, I see no reason to change your plea. I believe the case is built on hypotheticals… wishful thinking, and there seems to be an intent that you speak inadvisedly, and incriminate someone else. And yourself. Someone is hoping that you're going to be very clumsy," Ari emphasized, hoping she'd get the drift.

"It won't work," Otto snapped. "Carrie is innocent."

Without looking back, Carrie reached around and patted Otto's hand, still looking straight ahead at Ari.

"And, I have a very clever litigator," she said, attempting a smile. "So. What's our plan?"

"Well, I'm still deep in discovery. There are so many layers... and a lot of useful documents are redacted. I'm far from a point where I feel your best move would be to choose a lesser charge..."

"For fuck's sake! I won't plead guilty to anything! These are made-up charges!"

"I believe that," the attorney said calmly, looking at her over steepled fingers. "I believe you, and Otto believes you. But I don't know if the assistant U.S. attorney or the judge will believe you, Carrie. And unfortunately, your testimony simply provides more "he-said she-said." The uncomfortable truth is that you had foreknowledge of some events surrounding the terrorist attack supposedly perpetrated by Sekou Bah. Further, that you had foreknowledge concerning the involvement of various other state agencies in an attempt to essentially create a coup d'état which was meant to unseat the President. Including an assassination attempt! She clearly believes this, because she ordered your arrest, and the only persons who could testify on your behalf, are either in custody themselves…"

"Or dead," she said, sniffing. She just couldn't. It was too hard to explain.

"Or missing," the lawyer clarified. He looked from Carrie, who was studying her fingernails, to Otto's concerned expression, and back. "You see the spot we're in, then. Can I offer you two coffee? Or a drink?"

Ari Greenberg was the best defense attorney Otto could find, and he had indeed come with a fabulous pedigree. He was experienced in Federal cases and familiar with the cast of characters in all the relevant courtrooms. He was proud of his record, and was always well-prepared. But he was concerned. This case was peculiar.

It wasn't Carrie Mathison, exactly. She had a salty way of expressing herself, but many of his previous clients had been more difficult to work with than her. Still, there was something very shady about her case, even after he read through disclosure information pertinent to the federal warrant. Something wasn't right about it, and he believed her when she said she wasn't guilty. As far as he could tell, her behavior was completely consistent, as was her story. She wanted to be exonerated, and get her daughter back, that was all. But there was a shadow over the case. He couldn't quite put his finger on what was blocking the light.

Carrie sighed, and stood up. "Sure. Why not. Coffee," she said, sounding defeated. Ari poured her a cup, and then got one for Otto and himself. Otto stood up and came over, taking the drink directly from the tall, slender lawyer.

"What are we drinking to?" he asked. Greenberg made eye contact with Otto, and raised his eyebrows, chin lowered and lips pursed. Nothing good, the lawyer's eyes said.

The spacious office had a sectional leather couch, facing out over lower Manhattan. An excellent Franz Marc reproduction hung on the dark paneled wall to their left. For some reason, the opulent surroundings made her feel more insecure, not less.

"I believe you can fight this, as long as we can go back, and prove your actual intent. Track communications. Is there anyone you can think of who might be able to testify regarding your reasons for being at, say, this formerly secured location… what did you call it?"

"The flag house," Carrie murmured, her mind taking flight. A shadowy figure, leaning through the light in a doorway. A rough voice. You gotta let me go.

"Yes," said Ari. "You mentioned the Solicitor General?"

"He got his appointment from President Keane. I don't think he's likely to do anything but reinforce the state's case, if that's her wish."

Ari sighed. "I would have thought someone who did government work as long as you did, would have more connections. But, this case is radioactive. We're running out of people," he laughed quietly. "This Max… Max…"

"Piotrowski. Yes."

Ari sighed, and sipped at the steaming beverage, setting his cup neatly on the nearby end table. "We can't find him."

"What?" Carrie said.

"I looked, your Saul Berenson looked – oh, Berenson has channels of communication available, even inside. He provided a bit of info for you before he was released. He's out now," Ari said.

Carrie looked sideways at Greenberg, a guilty cast on her features. She hadn't thought to call Saul, and see where his case was at.

Ari continued, "Saul messaged that he couldn't find Max, either. And Dar Adal was a closed door on Mr. Piotrowski from the word go."

"Fuck," Carrie snarled. "Max had a… drug problem, years ago, and he had a girlfriend… then there was this… terrible incident at work. And he kind of went off the rails…"

"Yes," Ari confirmed. "We heard about that. But that wasn't recent. The firm was able to identify the young woman, the ex-girlfriend, and see if he'd contacted her lately…"

"And?"

"He did communicate with her. Briefly. She hadn't heard from him in four years, and she broke up with him because of the drug use… well, it turns out he dropped her a quick line, and then dropped out of sight."

"What? What did he say?" Carrie pleaded. Her avenues of defense were drying up.

"He told her that he was going to Africa. To climb Kilimanjaro,"

Otto snorted derisively, and Carrie frowned. "Oh, that's just… That's absurd," she said.

"Absurd or otherwise, that's all we know. No number, no email address, no trace of him is locatable. Your sister is a credible character witness, of course. But this is no crime of moral turpitude. This is a question of who knew what, when, with many layers of classified information in between. Our options are shrinking, Miss Mathison. Some of these charges might stick."

Otto leaned in, putting his arm around Carrie's shoulder.

"This is ridiculous, Ari. It's a revenge play, being perpetrated on Carrie to punish her intelligence community. She's their scapegoat," he said. "You have to think of something."

"I'll do my best, as will my paralegal and our entire team, of course," Greenberg said, rising. "But at this time, I don't have a strategic witness. Is there anyone else you can think of?" After a brief pause, "Anyone who isn't already under indictment?"

"No," Carrie said bluntly.

The attorney sighed. "Thank you for coming in. Call me night or day if you can think of any angles we can use."

They shook hands, and the lawyer's secretary saw them to the exit.

In the elevator on the way down, Carrie lay her head against the wall, and felt her anger dissolve into helpless tears. Otto held his arms open, but Carrie turned her face to the elevator wall.

"Hey. Hey," Otto insisted, turning her shoulders until her head was on his chest.

Carrie sobbed. The words running through her mind like a train of self-hatred got stuck in her throat, and only found voice in her tears.

I can't see Franny... these legal bills are killing me... I don't have a job... I don't have a friend in the world.

"I have nobody," she whispered.

"You have me," Otto breathed.

It wasn't Franny's visitation day, so with nowhere else to go, they headed back to Otto's apartment in his Mercedes. Carrie wasn't in any shape at that moment to apologize to Philip, and find out what happened with the CPS custody hearing, so with her permission, Otto placed that call. She lay on the dove-grey couch in his penthouse living room, her tears running down her cheeks into the expensive cushions.

She heard his voice murmuring on the phone for some time, and then she heard him say a farewell. As the stress of her criminal case and custody case slipped away in the peace and safety of the high-rise, she dozed off, listening to the sounds of Otto rummaging in the kitchen. Soothing sounds. Reminded her of Maggie, of her Dad.

After a whole, Otto emerged from the kitchen. He sat down quietly across from her, and saw that she'd fallen asleep. He set a plate bearing a sandwich and a glass of milk down on the coffee table in front of her, and stood. She looked so peaceful, sleeping there.

He walked behind the couch, and reaching down, smoothed Carrie's hair away from her face, behind her ear. He left her to rest, and walked quietly to his home office in the back of the apartment.

Time enough, later. There would be plenty of time to explain, to talk about everything.