"The ID is real. You can tell. If you still want to argue that a 'real' ID can be faked, then there's nothing more for us to discuss."
Morin didn't want to keep playing question and answer with Ethan. He went straight to the point.
"But what I want to tell you is this, Ethan. Time is running out."
"What do you mean, running out?" Ethan frowned. In truth, he was already mostly convinced of Morin's identity, but his position forced him to stay cautious.
"There really is a mole on your team," Morin said, switching topics. "And it's not you. You were framed."
"Why?" Ethan realized this might be the day he asked that word the most.
"Because of the intelligence," Morin said, tapping his head. "The mole wanted to frame you, and there are suspicious points surrounding you. But the problem is... they're too many. And too obvious."
"A huge sum of money was transferred directly into your parents' account," Morin continued, shaking his head. "Out in the open."
"Honestly, I don't understand how someone could make such a stupid mistake. If you were the mole, would you transfer the money straight to your parents?"
"Of course not," Ethan said immediately. "I'd use an anonymous account, then launder it through cash withdrawals and deposits, or spend it somewhere untraceable."
"Exactly," Morin said, spreading his hands. "The transfer was so blatant it was almost insulting."
"Of course, I think your superior probably noticed that too... maybe. But he still decided you were the mole. Do you know why?"
"I do," Ethan said. His guard had lowered noticeably. "Because I was the only one who survived."
"That's right," Morin said. "You were the only survivor. That's why he concluded it was you. The money was just weak supporting evidence."
Morin snapped his fingers.
"So here's what I'm telling you now. Someone on your team isn't dead."
"What?" Ethan's eyes widened. "What did you say?"
"They weren't stupid enough to rely solely on that money transfer," Morin said calmly. "They knew it wouldn't be convincing. So they arranged for everyone else to 'die' except you."
"When you're the only one left, even circumstantial evidence becomes decisive. After all, a mole wouldn't kill themselves."
As he spoke, Morin spread several files across the table.
"You're saying someone faked their death?" Ethan said slowly. "Who...?"
"Some people faked their deaths. Some really died," Morin replied. "The one who faked their death is obviously the most suspicious."
He gestured to the files.
"These contain detailed information on everyone on your team. For now, we can eliminate a few."
"First, the technician," Morin said, lifting one file and setting it aside. "He died badly. But CIA agents recovered the body. At least he'll get a proper burial."
"Second, Sarah," he continued, pulling out another file. "She was working with you. She's confirmed dead as well. Her body was recovered."
"Third, Hannah," Morin said, placing down another file. "The remains in the car after the explosion were also collected."
He stopped.
"...And then?" Ethan asked when Morin didn't move again.
"That's it," Morin said, picking up the remaining three files and handing them over. "My rule is simple. A body must be seen."
"Me, Jim, and Claire..." Ethan frowned. "Jim was shot. I saw him fall into the water. And Claire was in the car when it exploded."
"If the shot was placed correctly, even hitting the abdomen, it would cause massive bleeding, not instant death," Morin said. "Jim fell off the bridge and disappeared."
"As for Claire, she wasn't in the car. There was only one body in that wreckage. Hannah's."
"What?" Ethan frowned. "That's impossible. I saw-"
"What you saw could be wrong," Morin interrupted calmly. "I trust evidence. And right now, there's no proof either of them is dead."
Ethan fell silent.
After a moment, he asked, "What did you mean earlier... about time running out?"
"If my guess is right, and those two faked their deaths, then either both of them are moles, or at least one definitely is."
Morin walked over to Ethan's desk and pulled out a small bug taped underneath. He placed it on the table.
"Your team was scheduled to regroup at 4 AM," Morin said. He glanced at his watch. "It's 3:30 now. I'm leaving."
"If one of them comes back, you pretend you know nothing. Understand?"
Morin took out a phone and handed it to him.
"It's encrypted. One number only. Mine. If someone returns, it means they have a bigger plan. One they'll need you for."
"So I pretend to cooperate?" Ethan asked. "Pretend I'm hunting the real mole?"
"Not pretend," Morin corrected. "Do exactly what you planned to do. Find the mole. Act like this conversation never happened."
"I'll be watching. I'll help when needed. And I'll collect evidence."
"Evidence for what?" Ethan asked. "You're not really an IRS special agent, are you?"
Morin put on his coat and gathered his files.
"All income," he said with a smile, "legal or illegal, is taxable."
"We at the IRS are very friendly."
"As long as... you don't evade taxes."