"You really want to do this?" he asked finally. "Yes." "You understand what you're asking. If I go along with this plan, I can't step in. I can't save you if it goes wrong. I have to let it play out." "I'm not asking you to save me," Amara said.
"I'm asking you to watch. Record everything. Backstage, frontstage, production meetings, all of it. Make sure cameras catch every single thing they do and say. Document it so nobody can claim later that it didn't happen.
She paused, then added, "And when I'm done, when they've shown the whole country exactly who they are, then you decide what kind of man you want to be. The corner of Daniel's mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, but something close. She really did teach you well, didn't she?
She taught me how to win without begging for permission. Daniel was quiet for another long moment. Then he nodded. "Okay," he said. "We do it your way." He pulled out his phone.
But I'm putting cameras everywhere. And I mean everywhere. Hallways, green rooms, production booth, Philip's office, every corner of this building. Nothing gets erased. Nothing gets edited out.
Everything that happens tonight goes on record. "Good," Amara said. He made a call. Someone answered immediately.
Probably an assistant. "I need a favor," Daniel said into the phone. "Actually, no, not a favor. An order. I need full surveillance coverage for tonight's broadcast. Every camera we have, backstage, production areas, all of it.
Yes, I know that's unusual. I don't care. And I need it on a separate server. One that only I have access to. Nobody else touches it.
Not Philip, not the directors, nobody. He paused, listening. Because I said so. That's why. Get it done.
He hung up and looked at Amara. Done. "By the time your segment starts, we'll have eyes on everything." "Thank you." "Don't thank me yet."