“I lost him,” Hawk said. “Can you help me out, Alex?”
“I’m tracking him right now using satellite imagery,” she said. “He’s still heading for the water.”
Hawk reached the George Washington Memorial Parkway and darted across the road. He peered through the forestation in the area, looking for any sign of Walsh.
“Alex, I need to know where to go next,” Hawk said.
“Keep going,” she said. “Once you reach the shore, head south along the bank. He’s checking boathouses.”
Hawk emerged from the woods and looked south where a handful of docks dotted the banks of the Potomac River.
“Which one is he at now?” Hawk asked.
“There you are,” she said. “Walsh is about two hundred meters away from your position. He just went inside the two-story boathouse. Be careful, Hawk.”
Hawk sprinted south, eyeing the location Alex had identified for him. Once he reached the dock leading to the structure, he slowed down and crouched low as he crept toward the door. Right as Hawk approached the entrance, an outboard motor roared to life and a ski boat lurched toward the center of the channel.
Walsh attempted to navigate the boat as he turned back toward Hawk and fired a couple shots. When Walsh returned his focus to steering, Hawk recognized he still had a chance to get onboard by jumping from the dock onto the boat, which was traveling parallel to his position. After racing alongside the vessel, Hawk leaped into the air before crashing hard onto the deck and knocking Walsh forward across the navigational controls. He rolled over into the center of the boat, falling to the floor. Meanwhile, the boat began to spin in a circle.
Hawk reached for his gun, but it must have shaken loose during his landing. Walsh's gun had fallen out of his hand as well and was just out of his reach. Scrambling toward the weapon, Hawk dove on top of Walsh and tried to reach it first. But Walsh pulled the firearm back with his fingertips before clutching it tightly.
Reacting quickly, Hawk grabbed Walsh's wrist and bashed it against the deck to get him to relinquish his grip. When the gun didn't fall free, Hawk tried to hold Walsh's arm in place while punching him in the throat. But Walsh twisted to avoid a devastating blow as the two men rose to their feet while wrestling for the weapon.
After a brief struggle, Hawk moved into a more advantageous position, leaning on Walsh as his back was pinned against the edge of the boat and arms were fully extended arms over the water. The vessel continued to spin in a circle, unsteadying Hawk’s balance. He decided to make another lunge for the weapon. And when he did, it finally came loose from Walsh’s hand before tumbling into the Potomac.
Stunned for a moment by the disappearance of the weapon, Hawk was caught off guard when Walsh used both feet to shove Hawk backward, nearly knocking him into the water. Walsh scrambled behind the steering wheel and pulled the boat out of its spin. Hawk regained his composure and took a flying leap at Walsh, diving over the windshield and toppling him to the ground. The boat veered toward the far shore and ran around a few seconds later while the two men fought.
Walsh seized his chance to escape, jumping out of the vessel and running onto the shore. Hawk followed Walsh along the bank until they reached an inlet that ran up against a nature trail surrounded by a canal on one side and the Potomac on the other. Walsh was fighting his way through bushes and brambles when Hawk made a run at the Obsidian agent.
Walsh spun around and grabbed a knife from his ankle holster and waved it at Hawk.
“You ready to die just like your mother did?” Walsh asked.
Rage coursed through Hawk’s veins.
“Hawk, I lost visual contact with you, but I wanted to let you know that a whole host of law enforcement agents are closing in on your position,” Alex said over the coms.
“So am I,” Black said.
Hawk narrowed his eyes and glared at Walsh.
“So, you are ready to die like her?” Walsh said. He gestured with his hand, bidding for Hawk to come closer.
“We’re going to end this right now,” Hawk said.
CHAPTER 28
HAWK LOOKED AROUND for something he could use to fend off Walsh. A large branch a few feet away had to suffice as Hawk realized he was running out of options—and time. While diving back into the Potomac would help him avoid Walsh, Hawk would be apprehended by the security detail rushing toward his location.
“My contact told me you’d be difficult to eliminate,” Walsh said. “But this is going to be easier than I thought.”
“Yet you didn’t kill me in New Mexico when you had a chance,” Hawk said.
“I didn’t realize my own mother would set a trap for me.”
“A trap? It’s more like she set one for us.”
Walsh shook his head. “Is that why she only told me about you and the woman agent? I could’ve handled both of you, but she didn’t tell me about the third person. I would’ve brought some help. I just had to save myself at that point.”
“So instead you shot your own mother?” Hawk asked.
“I was doing her a favor. She was about to be arrested by the FBI for human trafficking and smuggling. It’s not like she was some paragon of virtue. Besides, she’s the one who made me murder all her husbands for her because she couldn’t bring herself to do it.”
“You don't have to choose this path,” Hawk said. “You can lay down your weapon, and you can help us stop Obsidian.”
Walsh laughed. “You’re never gonna stop them.”
“I won’t if I don’t know who’s behind all this. But you do—and you could assist us in bringing the leaders to justice.”
“Justice? These people own the justice system and everything else.”
“They don’t own me.”
“They will,” Walsh said. “Just give Obsidian time.”
“I won't be co-opted by anyone. That's not how I operate.”
“It won’t matter. You’ll be their slave one way or another—unless you want to fight this. I’ll give you a quick out, probably even your best solution.”
“Never,” Hawk sneered.
He ran straight for Walsh before darting to the side just before reaching him. Hawk avoided Walsh’s blade and then swung the branch at his knee. As Hawk made contact, Walsh let out a scream as a cracking sound ripped through the air. Hawk tumbled on the ground before jumping back to his feet.
Walsh grimaced as he regained his balance then turned to face Hawk.
“None of this is going to matter when the event happens,” Walsh said.
“The event? What was today?”
“Merely the pre-cursor to what’s about to unfold all across the world,” Walsh said. “Obsidian is about to assume control, the likes of which this world has never seen in the modern age. You think communism was bad? Wait until you see what they’re going to do.”
Hawk shook his head. “Yet you stand by them and fight for them.”
“It’s how I’m going to survive—and why you’re about to die.”
Hawk motioned for Walsh to come toward him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Walsh lunged toward Hawk and swiped at him. The blade slashed Hawk’s bicep, drawing some blood. But it wasn’t enough to make him wince as he swung back with the branch.
Hawk hit the top of Walsh’s hand, forcing him to release the knife. Both men dove for the weapon that fell into a nearby bush. Hawk got his fingers on the edge of the grip, but Walsh snatched it away and rolled on top of Hawk.
“It’s over,” Walsh said.
He reared back and prepared to plunge the blade into Hawk’s chest when a bullet ripped through Walsh’s chest. He dropped the knife as he clutched the gaping wound on his right side with both hands.
Alertly, Hawk grabbed the knife and watched as Walsh fell onto his back and gasped for air.
“You’re right,” Hawk said. “It’s over.”
A boat roared up near them on the shore.
“Please drop your weapon immediately and place your hands where w
e can see them,” ordered an officer over the boat’s speaker.
Hawk flung the knife a healthy distance away before taking Walsh’s phone and then raising both hands in the air. He looked down at Walsh, who was still struggling to breathe.
“My phone won’t help you,” Walsh whispered. “You better run. You’ll never get out of prison alive, if they don’t shoot you on-site.”
Walsh closed his eyes and ceased breathing as he fell limp. Hawk sighed before slowly rising to his feet.
A couple officers stormed toward Hawk.
“Keep your hands where I can see them,” one of the men said.
Hawk didn’t move as they searched him for a weapon. After a quick check, one of the guards announced that Hawk was clean. “But there’s a dead body over here.”
“Two of you stay behind here while we send for another boat,” one of the men on the vessel said. “Let’s take him back to NSC headquarters and process him there. Everyone is gonna want their pound of flesh from this clown.”
Black darted through the woods and approached the officers with his hands in the air. “It’s okay,” Black said, slowly reaching to hold up the badge attached to a chain around his neck. “I’m Special Agent Grant with the bureau. This man is a hero, not a criminal. He’s the one who apprehended the actual suspect.”
The man in charge huffed. “We’re handling this now. You can take that up with all the eyewitnesses who reported something to the contrary. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we need to process this traitor.”
Glancing at Black, Hawk cut his eyes toward his front right pocket. “Get my phone and call my lawyer. I’m sure he’ll be able to sort out this misunderstanding. And thanks.”
Black nodded before he fished the phone out of Hawk’s pants amid protests from the officers.
“Rob Fulchum is my lawyer,” Hawk said. “He'll know what to do.”
As the men escorted Hawk to the boat, they eyed Black closely.
“Come on, guys,” Black pleaded. “Let me contact his lawyer for him. You’re going to be embarrassed about arresting him when the footage comes out.”
“Whatever,” one of the guards replied. “Call his lawyer for him. It’s not gonna make much difference. He shot Fortner, who’s in the hospital fighting for his life.”
CHAPTER 29
ALEX TOOK THE PHONE from Black and gained access to it by generating a simulated fingerprint she found on file from Mack Walsh. She downloaded all of the data onto her computer and started to comb through it while listening to radio reports about what the security detail believed happened.
“Thanks,” Alex said. “I know what you did out there. If you hadn’t shot Walsh when you did . . .”
“Just doing my job,” Black said. “We’ve all got each other’s back around here. Let’s just hope Blunt can get everything cleared up soon.”
Black studied the video monitors depicting certain sections around the new NSC campus. Investigators collected casings, while paramedics continued to check attendees for any injuries.
“I would’ve sworn that I saw Walsh on the ground,” Black said.
“Those look-alikes threw everything off,” Alex said. “And I can’t for the life of me figure out where they went.”
Black nodded knowingly. “Look, I know we’re all focused on getting this information off Walsh’s phone, but I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now.”
“I’m trying not to think about it,” Alex said. “I do take some solace in the fact that President Young is an ally of ours and the Phoenix Foundation. But now that we’ve had time to catch our breath and reflect, this whole scenario felt like a setup. Obsidian wanted Hawk here so they could frame him.”
“What makes you so sure of that?”
“Somebody on the inside had knowledge of where all the security cameras were,” Alex said. “This building is brand new, and somehow Walsh avoided being seen. We know that Hawk saw him because he chased him across the river. But no one else did apparently, at least if the chatter I hear on the law enforcement communications is to be believed.”
“But why?” Black asked. “If Obsidian wanted Hawk dead, they had their chances.”
“There’s something else at play here,” Alex said. “It’s almost as if they wanted to prove something with this attack. I haven’t sorted through all potential reasons why yet, but it seems as though a brazen act of this nature could trigger something else they wanted. And framing Hawk would help further that agenda.”
“So to thwart this, all we have to do now is prove Hawk's innocence.”
“Easier said than done, and I’m not sure how to do it,” Alex said. “But I do know the FBI investigators are confused as to how Hawk was seen running from one side of the rooftop to the other without a weapon, but there were long-range shots fired from both locations. I also heard someone say that there were no prints on the weapon that was positioned next to a dummy.”
“Of course,” Black said. “A dummy’s not gonna leave prints.”
“But the working theory is that Hawk was shooting from both locations.”
Black shook his head emphatically. “There’s no way this sticks. Have you spoken with Blunt yet?”
“I have no idea where is he. In the midst of all this chaos, he could’ve been taken to the hospital, but I haven’t heard from him.”
“I’ll try to reach him,” Black said. “You just keep working on Walsh’s phone.”
* * *
BLACK STEPPED OUTSIDE the van and dialed Blunt’s number. The call went straight to voicemail.
He sighed and meandered toward the stage where an FBI forensics team worked to gather every shred of evidence. On the rooftop, Black spied a pair of suits strolling around and pointing at something on the ground.
Black contemplated his next move. The only silver bullet he had remaining in his chamber was to call the president. While Alex touted her relationship with him, Black knew President Young as well, executing several secret assignments for him when it came to gathering intelligence on his political rivals. Although hesitant to comply with the president’s requests, Black figured it might be able to earn him some political capital in the future. And if there was ever a moment to call in a favor, it was now.
Black called the president’s secretary and left a message. Two minutes later, Black’s phone buzzed.
“Please hold for the president,” a woman said. Seconds later, President Young joined the line.
“Titus, how the hell are ya?” Young asked.
“To be completely honest and get straight to the point, I’d be better if I wasn’t standing here watching this disaster unfold at the NSC dedication.”
“I was hoping you weren’t calling about that. My office is already trying to do damage control over that leaked footage someone broadcast during the introduction while hijacking the video system.”
“Well, it’s a lot worse for Brady Hawk,” Black said.
“Brady’s in trouble?”
“He’s been arrested as the shooter who fired on the stage.”
“That’s absurd.”
“Of course it is,” Black said. “But it’s pretty apparent this was an elaborate setup job by Obsidian.”
“This is getting out of control. If anything, we need Brady out there more than ever to track these people down, whoever they are.”
“I agree, sir. And the worst thing is we were making some progress, but the man behind the plot is now dead.”
“So Brady is just twisting in the wind right now?” Young asked.
“Unless you do something about it, he’s going to be in serious trouble. Even worse is that his cover might be blown if this gets leaked to the media.”
Young sighed. “I’m afraid right now that there isn’t anything I can do to help him.”
“Of course there is, sir. You can order the FBI to release him and make all record of his detainment vanish. All you have to do is pick up the phone.”
“Not now, not after the world just
found out we actually negotiate with terrorists on occasion. Just think of how it would look if I wielded my influence now. It’d seem like I was trying to manipulate the situation for my advantage. That’s not politically expedient for me right now.”
“Are there any other backchannels we can work right now?” Black asked.
“I would suggest calling Fortner, but he’s not going to be of any help to you since he’s in a coma.”
Black shook his head. “I hadn’t heard that. I just knew that he had been hit and was going to the hospital.”
“It’s touch-and-go if he’s going to make it through the night.”
“This is really bad,” Black said.
“Your best bet is to prove his innocence and find a way to do that quickly.”
“Will do, sir. Thanks for your time.”
“Of course. I’ll be watching,” Young said before he hung up.
Black let out an exasperated breath as he looked skyward. He circled the area around the stage before wandering toward a bank of media vehicles, many of them with correspondents reporting with the investigation unfolding right behind them. He watched NBC’s Brittany Tillman wrap up her segment before dropping her mic and staring intently at her iPad. Sauntering up to her, he asked her what she saw.
She furrowed her brow. “Are you taking an official statement from me? Because someone else already did that.”
Black offered his hand. “Special Agent Grant.”
“Brittany Tillman on special assignment,” she said with a faint smile. “I was supposed to fly out of here tonight to the Dominican for my best friend’s wedding. But I’m stuck here for now.”
“Stuck?” he asked.
“Yeah, they’re not letting anyone leave, not that it’d matter. My editor isn’t about to let me leave this place until I have the real story about what’s going on. Any chance you can help me with that?”
Black shrugged. “Maybe. Depends on what you know.”
“Well, I don’t know much other than what we’re getting from media releases on social media. However, I do have some interesting footage of my own.”
Black’s eyes widened. “What kind of footage?”
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