The man nodded and asked for more assistance on the roof with an active federal agent.
When the second man came barreling up the stairs, Black and Shields shot him—and the first man. They dragged the bodies on the level above them and placed them near the door.
“Two down, three to go,” Black said.
“We need to move quickly,” Shields said. “They’re going to know something’s up when they don’t report back in a matter of minutes.”
“I can mimic that man’s voice,” Black said.
“Call for Kazadi,” she said.
Black asked for Kazadi, but predictably received some pushback.
“We’re about to start filming,” Kazadi said. “Just hold them off.”
Black and Shields crept back down to the bottom level and eased closer to the screen. One man stood behind the camera, while Kazadi and Zahid coached the two hostages on how to make their prepared statements more believable.
“If you don’t do this with more feeling,” Zahid said, “I’m going to just kill you right here.”
“Isn’t that what you’re going to do anyway?” Young asked.
Black tried to read the situation as Zahid sighed and threw his hands in the air.
“How did you ever get anyone but your mother to vote for you?” Zahid said.
Black wanted to shoot them both, but he wasn’t close enough and if he and Shields didn’t deliver kill shots, the president or the secretary were both in danger of being taken hostage. And with no sure bet, he couldn’t risk anything.
“We need a diversion,” Black said. “Can you set off that car alarm?”
Shields looked over her shoulder at a vehicle nearby. She nodded and smiled.
“That should separate them from the president and the secretary,” Black said. “And then it’ll at least give us a chance to take all three men out without losing anyone.”
“It’s risky,” she said.
“Of course it is, but it’s our best play.”
Shields nodded. “Then I guess I’m up.”
She tightened the suppressor on the end of her weapon before firing a shot into the back window of a black sedan. Within seconds, the horn blasted and the headlights blinked off and on.
“Go see about that,” Zahid said, stepping back and then training his weapon on Young. “If something goes wrong, I’m going to kill the president.”
Then Zahid continued by shouting. “You hear me? If you try anything else, I’m going to kill the president.”
“He won’t kill Young,” Black said in a hushed tone to Shields. “That would defeat the entire purpose of the mission, which is obviously to coerce Young into saying something for Alsheri.”
“I hope you’re right,” Shields said.
As soon as Kazadi and the other terrorist walked into view, the two agents put them down, each with a pair of shots. That left Zahid alone with the president and the secretary.
“You’re going to die,” Young said.
Black walked into the open, his gun trained on Zahid.
“Lower your weapon,” Black said.
“I will but first I need to let you know about something,” Zahid said as he slowly unbuttoned his jacket. “I knew this might happen, so I needed a way out.”
“You think strapping a few hundred pounds of C4 to a suicide vest that has a kill switch is going to give you a way out,” Black said.
Zahid placed his gun on the table and shrugged. “If you’re so brave, why don’t you just shoot me right now and find out.”
Black cocked his head to one side. “That’d be too easy.”
“Too easy?” Zahid said. “Listen to you, Mr. Tough Guy. I guess I have to make things difficult for you. Apparently, I need to remind you that if you shoot me, you’re going to die too. Perhaps you need to rethink your plan.”
“Place the weapon on the table,” Black said.
Zahid complied and smiled as he did so. “One day when one of your federal forensics teams has figured out what’s about to happen here, your name will be synonymous with the man who killed the president. And I hope that’s what you want. Because if so, I encourage you to do it. That’s exactly what I desire.”
Black strode closer, stopping behind the camera. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. However, I’m only asking to be courteous. I’m quite certain that you won’t do this the easy way.”
“What exactly do you want me to do?” Zahid asked with a grin.
“I want to record you talking about how great America is—and meaning it,” Black said.
“Are you out of your mind?” President Young asked, his face beading with sweat. “I just want to get out of here in one piece.”
“You will,” Black said. “Mr. Zahid doesn’t like you, but he’s not going to blow himself up.”
“What makes you so sure?” Young asked.
“Yes, Agent Black, what makes you so sure?” Zahid repeated.
“Last chance,” Black said. “Easy way or hard way?”
“Prepare to die,” Zahid said.
He feigned releasing a black button, but kept it pushed down. Black, however, wasn’t buying the charade. He fired a shot that tore through Zahid’s right shoulder, knocking him to the ground. He staggered to get back up before reaching for the wound. He put his hand on top of it as blood gushed out.
“So, we’re doing this the hard way,” Black said.
“I will kill us all,” Zahid said as he staggered back against the wall and slid down it.
“No, you won’t,” Black said. “Deep down, you’re still the same scared chicken shit you always were. Fortunately for you, none of your underlings were here to see you cower in fear.”
All color left Zahid’s face as he stared up at Black.
“The ruse is over,” Black said. “I know your little secret, especially since I saw your thumb come off that supposed kill switch twice now. You were never going to kill yourself, were you?”
Zahid shook his head and glanced at the blood gushing from his wound.
“Now, if you don’t do what I say, you’re going to bleed out very slowly—and it’ll be a painful death,” Black said. “But if you do what I say, I promise to help you. Deal?”
Shields nudged Black from behind and spoke in a hushed tone through clenched teeth. “What are you doing?”
“Untie the president and the madam secretary,” Black said. “Mr. Zahid and I have a business transaction to conclude.”
Shields hustled over and freed both Young and Geller, who stared at the whole scene and shook her head.
“What are you doing?” Geller asked.
“Just go,” Black said. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Shields led the two officials away from the scene, leaving Black and Zahid alone.
“I have something I want you to say,” Black said as he hurriedly wrote something on the back of a sheet of paper. “I’m going to record it and then I’ll help you. But you better say this like you mean it.”
Zahid snarled. “I’ll never do it.”
“Suit yourself,” Black said. “I’ll take a seat and watch you die. But aren’t you the least bit curious what it says?”
Zahid winced in pain. “Okay, I’ll read it. Anything to stop this.”
Black turned on the camera, focusing on Zahid’s face, and then handed him the paper.
“Americans are kind. Stop killing them,” Zahid read aloud. “You expect me to read this?”
Black smiled as he fiddled with his gun, removing every cartridge but one. “You just did, Mr. Zahid.”
“You bastard,” Zahid shouted. “You will die a thousand deaths for what you have done.”
Black tossed the gun toward Zahid. It hit the ground and skidded to a stop against the wall next to him.
“You have one bullet,” Black said. “Don’t miss.”
He grabbed the camera and hustled away, looking back over his shoulder in time to see Zahid stretching to reach the weapon.
&nbs
p; Three seconds later, Black heard the gun fire. He stopped and dialed Blunt’s number.
“Call Besserman and tell him the feds are clear to move in and clean up this mess,” Black said. “It’s over.”
“And the president and the secretary?” Blunt asked.
“They’re both safe.”
“Thank you,” Blunt said. “Outstanding work, Agent Black.”
“Just doing my job, sir.”
CHAPTER 49
Washington, D.C.
BLUNT SKIMMED THE headlines in The Washington Post, chuckling to himself at the amount of fiction being passed off as news. Most of the stories without named sources that defied belief could be attributed to an activist posing as a journalist. But this wild tale was spoon fed straight from the CIA to their willing media lackeys. They devoured the tale that was more fit for the silver screen than the pages of a newspaper.
Blunt had the conference room all to himself as he leaned back in his chair and waited for the rest of the team to arrive. Jana Shadid was the first one to join him, clutching a stack of documents as she sat down.
“I think it’s time you made some more modifications to my cane,” Blunt said.
“Is it not working for you?” she asked.
“No, it’s fine,” Blunt said. “I’m just a little jealous after what Agent Shields told me you did for her prosthetic leg.”
“You can create a lot more hidden compartments in a leg than you can in a cane.”
He grunted and pulled out a cigar from his coat pocket. “That doesn’t change the fact that I want an upgrade.”
She smiled. “For some reason, I’m not surprised.”
Shields walked in and greeted the team a few minutes later, followed by Black. Blunt chuckled when Black sat down on the other side of the table.
“What are you doing over there, grinning like a Cheshire cat?” Shields asked.
“You two make me laugh,” Blunt said, his eyes bouncing back and forth between Shields and Black.
“All I said was hello,” Shields said.
“Yeah, but you’re trying to make it look like you didn’t come to work together,” Blunt said.
“We didn’t,” Black said. “We drove separately.”
Blunt grinned. “Separately, as in a convoy of two vehicles?”
“Are you having us followed?” she asked.
Blunt put his hand over his mouth and feigned shock. “I knew it.”
“Knew what?” Shields asked. “Because I was going to tell you if you’re paying someone to tail us, they’re doing a terrible job since they’re lying to you about us following each other to work.”
“You’re awfully defensive,” Blunt said, “which makes me think that maybe I was right.”
Shields rolled her eyes before taking a sip of her coffee. “Is there any reason we’re still waiting to start this meeting?”
“Edge isn’t here,” Blunt said just before the investigator strode through the door. “Speak of the devil.”
Edge stopped and pointed with both index fingers as Blunt. “A handsome devil, right?”
Blunt gestured for Edge to sit down before beginning the meeting. He stood and hiked his suit pants up by yanking on the belt.
“I’ve read all your thorough reports of what happened two days ago not very far from this building,” Blunt said. “And I think when woven together, they present a more comprehensive tapestry of the events that night. Every single one of you should be proud of the incredible work you did. Who knows how many innocent lives were saved by eliminating those terrorists. And, Agent Black, to do what you did—you actually turned a horrible scenario into a public relations victory.”
“When inspiration strikes,” Black said with a shrug.
“But there are a few gaps that I’m still trying to piece together,” Blunt said, “particularly as it relates to how the terrorists were able to communicate with others so seamlessly in abducting the president. I know there are other agencies investigating this as well, but I need to know as soon as possible for my own sanity. That’s why I’ve invited Edge to talk with us today.”
Black furrowed his brow. “Wasn’t Edge working on the Elaine Gibbons case?”
Blunt nodded. “And as it turns out, the two were somewhat related. Edge, can you explain this to everyone?”
Edge stood and activated the projector screen. A half-minute later, he was talking about the process of inserting people into the FBI’s facial recognition database.
“Every data entry has an identifying marker to go with it,” Edge explained. “So, you can’t just go in and start adding people. Well, you and I can’t, but if you had access to the database, you most certainly could. But you couldn’t do so anonymously—at least that’s how it’s supposed to work.”
“And how does this relate to Elaine Gibbons?” Black asked.
Edge nodded. “That’s a good question—and it’s the reason why I’m here today. I started trying to learn more about Elaine Gibbons. Who was this mystery woman and what was she doing in Montana? As it turns out, her entire profile was fake, entered by a virtual ghost at the agency.”
“Are you saying that Gibbons isn’t real?” Shields asked.
“No, she’s real all right,” Edge said. “But her name isn’t Elaine Gibbons.”
“Then what is it?” Black asked.
“Still working on that,” Edge said. “But we were able to trace a connection between her and the Secret Service agent driving the presidential limo a couple of days ago. Turns out, we found some cell numbers that corresponded with the one she had in Wyoming.”
“They were talking this whole time?” Blunt asked.
Edge nodded. “The abduction of Young was planned. They just needed something to create a classic misdirection.”
Black sighed and tapped on the table. “So, how do we find her?”
“That’s the million-dollar question at the moment,” Blunt said. “Right, Edge?”
Edge nodded. “Once we establish what her true identity really is, we should be able to move forward with the investigation.”
“Any theories so far?” Blunt asked.
“I think she’s well-connected, and quite possibly someone we’ve all heard of before,” Edge said. “But that’s just sheer speculation at this point.”
“Good work,” Blunt said. “Finding Gibbons and making her talk is going to be our primary focus until we catch her. Understood?”
Everyone nodded, giving Blunt the assurance that everyone else was on the same page, hopefully lost in thought about finding Elaine Gibbons, or whatever her name really was.
CHAPTER 50
Washington, D.C.
BLACK SETTLED ONTO HIS couch next to Shields as Michelle Ryland introduced her in-depth television special on Secretary Geller. He scooted nearer to Shields, close enough that he could put his arm around her. After a moment, she looked at him and smiled.
On the screen, Ryland shared about Geller’s past in the military, including her time in Afghanistan where she was held captive by the Taliban. Then the story shifted to the past two weeks with footage from Geller’s humanitarian stop in Congo. The music in the background transitioned from a light and hopeful tune to a more ominous one as Geller discussed being taken captive again and waking up in a military transport truck on top of the dead bodies of her colleagues and security team. After a commercial break, Ryland returned with a scene of her walking with Geller in her garden, discussing her escape.
Geller explained how the U.S. government sent a team to rescue her, which drew Shields’ ire.
“I understand leaving your name out of this—obviously,” Shields said, gesturing toward the screen, “but to act like there was a team who pulled her out of this mess.”
Black shrugged. “I don’t know if that’s lying. We are employed by the government, albeit secretly. And we are a pretty good team.”
Shields sighed and rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. There’s definitely an implication from her sta
tement that U.S. operatives swept through the jungle and delivered her to safety. I mean, she didn’t even mention the pilot who flew her out of there. He certainly deserved some credit.”
“From what I understand, that mission in Africa now has several new planes and enough funding to keep them operating for years if they never collected another dime, all thanks to Uncle Sam,” Black said. “Plus, I doubt that a pilot flying around the deepest, darkest parts of the Congo is looking for fame.”
She nodded. “You’re probably right.”
“You know what else I was right about?” he asked.
“What?”
“I was right about us,” Black said before leaning in for a kiss.
Shields shifted just before he made contact with her lips, causing him to miss his intended target and plant a kiss on her cheek. She giggled.
“What are you laughing about?” he asked.
“You missed again,” she said before kissing him on the lips. After drawing back, they locked eyes. “I’m better at hitting the target than you at everything.”
Black shook his head as a wry grin spread across his face. “You’re something else.”
“That’s not the greatest compliment I’ve ever been paid, but I’m going to take it as such.”
“It’s definitely a compliment,” Black said as the smile disappeared from his face. “I’m just . . .”
He let his words hang in the air as he looked down at the floor.
“What is it?” she asked.
Black sighed. “I’m glad we were able to save the president and Secretary Geller, especially after all that she went through. It’d be horrible for her to die in her own country after everything that’s happened to her overseas. But I almost blew it.”
“How exactly?”
“I let my ego get in the way of doing what I should’ve done in the first place, which was crash that plane.”
“I don’t think that was your ego,” Shields said.
“What was it then?”
“It was your emotions, your feelings for another person.”
He nodded. “And it almost got the president and the secretary killed.”
State of Conspiracy (Titus Black Thriller series Book 8) Page 22
