“Sure thing,” Black said before settling into one of the chairs in the lobby.
After five minutes, he asked the receptionist where the restroom was and then sauntered off toward it. He stopped at the end of the hallway before glancing over his shoulder to see if the woman was still looking. She wasn’t, so he darted to the right down another short corridor of offices.
Black jiggled the knob of a door with opaque glass, but it didn’t budge. He tried another that was solid wood. Unable to open that door either, he pulled out his pick set and popped open the lock, revealing a storage area. Just as he was about to go inside, he heard footsteps coming in his direction and stopped.
A man with a furrowed brow rounded the corner and halted the moment he made eye contact with Black.
“What are you doing down here?” the man demanded.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Black said. “I was searching for the restroom, and I got turned around. Is it this way?”
“Who are you?”
“Arty Winchester from YCS. I had an appointment this morning with Mr. Reese.”
The man shook his head. “I’m Milton Reese, but I didn’t have any appointments this morning.”
Black shrugged. “I don’t know. Corporate set it up. Maybe someone made a mistake somewhere.”
“Or maybe you aren’t who you say you are,” Reese said with a growl.
“Hey, man, it’s cool. Just chill out,” Black said as he closed the door.
Reese looked over his shoulder before striding closer to Black and pulling out a gun.
Black threw his hands in the air. “Whoa, whoa. No need for that. If you don’t want me to handle your computer problems, feel free to shop around and have someone else do it. I’m just making a sales call that came at your request.”
Reese glared at Black. “Get in that room right now.”
“What are you doing?” Black asked as he moved toward the door.
“Just shut up and get in there.”
Black complied, keeping one of his hands raised while the other turned the knob. He backed inside to a storage room that was neatly organized with computer servers on one side and shelving units packed with office supplies on the other.
“What are you going to do to me?” Black asked, trying to act like he thought a normal civilian would in such a circumstance. “I will walk out that front door right now and never tell a soul about what just happened.”
“Let me see your phone,” Reese asked as he held out his hand. “Slowly, slowly.”
Black reached into his pocket and fished out the device, handing it to Reese. “What are you going to do to me now?”
Reese’s eyes darted back and forth. Black noticed sweat beading up on his captor’s forehead as he hesitated to respond.
“Are you gonna tie me up?” Black asked.
“Shut up and let me think,” Reese said, keeping his gun trained on Black.
After a long pause, Reese snatched a roll of duct tape off one of the shelves and tossed it at Black.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” Black asked.
“In a perfect world, we’d start by putting that over your mouth.”
Black scowled. “Look, we both know I can’t tie myself up. If you want me tied up, you’re gonna have to come over here and do it yourself.”
Reese stormed across the room toward his captive. Black took a few steps back, easing into a narrow aisle where rows of shelves flanked him. He figured if he could force a close-quarters combat situation, he would be able to overtake Reese.
“Stop moving,” Reese commanded.
Black ignored the directive and eased back a couple more steps.
“I said stop!”
Once Reese entered the tight space, he staggered to his knees and fell forward with a moan. Acting quickly, Black snatched the gun from his kidnapper’s hand before he hit the floor. Then Black looked up to see Hawk and Alex.
“I could’ve handled this myself,” Black said.
“You looked like you were doing fine on your own,” Alex said. “You were doing so much backing up, I almost expected to hear a beeping noise.”
“That was all part of my plan,” Black said. “Once I got him back here against the wall, I was going to surprise him with a throat punch and maybe add one more for good measure.”
Hawk yanked Reese by his collar, lifting him to his feet. He sneered at the trio who had managed to flip the tables on him.
“You didn’t really think you were going to keep us locked up for that long, did you?” Alex asked.
Black pulled Reese’s hands behind his back and wrapped duct tape around them to temporarily secure him. “Is this what you were wanting me to do with this tape?”
“My secretary will be back here looking for me soon,” Reese said.
“I don’t think so,” Alex said as she typed a message on his phone.
“What are you doing?” Reese asked.
“Making sure she leaves you alone for the next half hour since you want some pastries and coffee from the café two blocks away,” she said with a wink. “And then once she leaves, I’m going to text her and tell her that you’re leaving early for the day.”
“What do you people want?” Reese asked. “Because I get the strange sense that you aren’t looking to donate anything to A Hand Up or sell me computer software.”
Hawk led Reese across the room and forced him into a chair.
“We want to know everything,” Hawk said.
CHAPTER 13
Washington, D.C.
J.D. BLUNT STUFFED HIS CIGAR into his pocket as he entered Tryst, the downtown coffee shop popular among most everyone working on Capitol Hill. Even though he rarely lit up his stogies, just the presence of one would be enough to alarm some of the café’s clientele. As he approached the counter to order, he scanned the area for CIA Deputy Director Randy Wood.
Just before Blunt ordered, he spotted Wood shuffling a deck of cards at a corner table. Blunt ordered his coffee and received his drink soon after. He ambled through the tables and chairs scattered across the floor and eased into a seat opposite of Wood in the back corner of the room.
“It’s too early in the morning to play poker,” Blunt said with a wry grin.
“Afraid you won’t be able to defend your most recent victory over me?” Wood fired back. “That win was quite some time ago, and you’ve been scared to play me since.”
“When you win as much as I do, what’s there left to prove?”
Wood chuckled and then took a sip of his drink. “It’s good to see you, J.D.”
“And you as well. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this invitation?”
“I apologize for calling a meeting in a place like this, but I don’t know where to go that I’d feel comfortable chatting with you about this.”
Blunt furrowed his brow. “What’s wrong, Randy? You’re starting to worry me.”
“Look, it’s just that I don’t know who to trust any more. Quite frankly, you’re the only one outside my office that I trust. And the number of people I believe are on my side—the right side, the nation’s side—I can count on one hand.”
“Is this about Obsidian?”
Wood nodded. “I got a report from one of the few agents I’ve been able to count on over the years who found out just how far and deep their tentacles reach.” He sighed before continuing. “They’re everywhere, J.D. And I mean everywhere. They’re in Congress, they’re in the White House, they’re in the CIA and FBI. It’s hard to swing a stick without hitting one of them.”
“That’s not really news, Randy. I told you this stuff was going on a while back. What made you change your mind?”
Wood took another long pull from his mug before setting it down and responding pensively. “Look, I know you warned me about this. However, you never told me the extensive infiltration that had already occurred. Every branch of the federal government is practically under siege.”
“And how do you plan on stopping them?”
“That’s why I brought you here,” Wood said. “I was hoping you could help come up with something creative.”
“You needed to talk to me about this in person?”
Wood shifted in his seat. “Well, there’s some more sensitive information I needed to discuss with you, and we had to do it in a public place.”
“Just spit it out, Randy.”
“My agent found out who Obsidian was recruiting next.”
Blunt eyed Wood carefully as he slid a manila folder across the table. Opening the documents carefully, Blunt started to peruse the rote reports.
“Is this who I think it is?”
Wood nodded. “The first lady.”
Blunt’s mouth fell agape. “Madeline Young wouldn’t be caught up in something like this.”
“You sound surprised, J.D. And you of all people shouldn’t be. You’re the one who told me when I first came to Washington that I shouldn’t trust anyone.”
“Yet here you are, ignoring my advice by spilling the beans to me.”
“The irony isn’t lost on me, but I have to trust some people, though it’s a really short list. And of all those names, you’re the only one who can actually do something about it.”
“Well, we work under the radar, but it’s not like we’re totally invisible. And if we get caught . . .”
Wood shrugged. “Don’t you think it’s worth the risk?”
“That depends on what’s at stake.”
“If the presidency is compromised, our nation’s security is at stake. Forget what those terrorists are doing. We can’t let Obsidian sink its claws into Young.”
“Do want my team to eliminate the first lady?”
“Are you kidding me?” Wood asked. “She’s a national treasure. Aside from the fact that she’s as classy of a lady as you’ll find, she flew fighters in Iraq patrolling the no-fly zone. She’s not someone we want to try to remove with extreme measures.”
“You want to use her then?”
“I want you to use her.”
“Do you have any idea who’s running her?”
Wood shook his head. “We have a hunch, but it’s all speculation at this point. And to be honest, we came across this information by dumb luck. One of our analysts was sifting through some regular offshore deposits and traced them back to Madeline Young.”
“How do you know these payments are related to Obsidian?”
“We don’t for certain, but there is a deep-pockets lobbyist several of our agents believe is connected to Obsidian on some level. Henry Rutherford is a philanthropist by day and lobbyist by night for Wall Street. He maintains a low profile on Capitol Hill, but he is a puppet master, make no mistake about it. And Rutherford and the first lady have had several meetings as of late—and they haven’t been about any of her children’s charities or her STEM for Girls program, according to our sources. They’ve been closed door meetings, which is highly unusual.”
“Sure there’s nothing else going on?”
“No,” Wood said emphatically. “Rutherford isn’t about to get involved romantically with the first lady. He has multiple mistresses. But we’re monitoring him very closely and think we’ve determined another attack will happen soon.”
“That’s what my team has concluded,” Blunt said. “They’re predicting sometime within the next week. But don’t be fooled into thinking this is all about money. It’s ultimately about power. And Obsidian is going to make a power grab for sure.”
“Power and money are one in the same,” Wood said. “But I need your team to back off a little bit.”
“Back off? Right now?” Blunt’s attention was briefly arrested by a text message from Hawk.
“Is everything all right?”
“I’ll deal with it in a minute.”
Wood nodded. “We can’t charge ahead with a wide-sweeping investigation at the moment because we don’t need Rutherford or the first lady to have any reason to be nervous. We need to set a trap so we can see how far up the chain they are and then decide who to eliminate so we can shut down the entire organization.”
“So, do we play a game of poker to decide who gets to tell the president that his wife is on Obsidian’s payroll?”
Wood chuckled. “Is that what it would take to get you to play me again?”
“Well, it’s the only way to guarantee that you would be the one to have to deliver the bad news.”
“I’ll have to come up with another way to get you to play me then because we’re not telling him.”
Blunt furrowed his brow. “He needs to know.”
“I agree, but like I said earlier, I don’t trust any else. Obsidian could have someone in Secret Service who could overhear something or have Young’s office bugged. I’m just not willing to risk it. Right now, our biggest weapon is the element of surprise. If we can navigate these waters stealthily, we should be able to extract more intel out of this.”
Blunt glanced at his phone again as it vibrated on the table. He shook his head and held up the screen so Wood could see it.
“Who is that?” Wood asked.
“That’s Milton Reese, the head of the New York Branch of A Hand Up. And it’s too late now to handle this investigation quietly.”
“Damn it, Blunt. That’s what I get for getting your team involved. A bunch of renegades and rebels who force me to clean up their messes more often than not.”
“Can’t argue with the results.”
“I can in this case because it might just cost us a golden opportunity to start putting together an org chart of this group. Reese has been on our watch list for a while.”
“What am I supposed to tell them?” Blunt asked. “They’ve got Reese tied up, and he’s seen them. Cleaning this up would be like trying to put toothpaste back into the tube.”
“I don’t care how difficult of a task it is. Shut them down now.”
“Okay,” Blunt said. “I’ll take care of it.”
“I’ve gotta run, but I’m counting on you to handle this. Let’s talk soon about the first lady.”
Blunt watched Wood exit through the front door before he texted Hawk back and told him to back off Reese. Hawk quickly responded:
“That’s not what I meant when I asked you how to proceed.”
Blunt grunted and fired back another text:
“Make it seem like you are simply robbing him, not part of some covert ops team affiliated with the government.”
He waited for a few seconds while Hawk typed his reply:
“Too late for that now.”
Blunt tucked his phone in his pocket, choosing not to reply. The damage had already been done. His team would figure out a way, but he didn’t want to know about it. Plausible deniability was his best response when Wood inquired about how his team handled Reese.
CHAPTER 14
New York City
HAWK’S MOUTH GAPED as he read the response from Blunt. Back off? Based on that message alone, Hawk wondered if Blunt had been compromised somehow and was being forced to do things against his will. Or if his phone had been stolen. Nothing made sense. Blunt never told them to back off. He was a “keep pushing forward” kind of guy.
“What is it?” Alex asked as she snatched the cell from Hawk’s hands.
Hawk ushered Alex and Black to the far corner of the room to discuss their next steps.
Alex read the text in a whisper. “Are you kidding me?” she said when she was finished.
“That doesn’t sound like Blunt,” Black said.
Hawk sighed. “It’s hard to disagree with you. The only reasonable explanation I can come up with is that he’s just following orders.”
“Whose orders?” Alex asked. “The head of Obsidian?”
“Randy Wood is one of the only people who could tell Blunt to pass along an order like that and he’d comply,” Hawk said.
“Well, it’s too late for all that,” Black said. “We need to move on this interrogation of Mr. Reese if we’re going to glean anything
from it.”
“Agreed,” Hawk snapped. “And Blunt still hasn’t responded to my follow-up message requesting direction on what to do next, which means he doesn’t want to know what we’re about to do.”
“And what did you have in mind?” Black asked. “I’d be happy to pull the trigger on this traitor.”
Hawk took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “My best guess is that Blunt might not want us removing this piece of garbage because the CIA is working some angle we didn’t know about.”
“So we keep everything normal then?” Alex asked. “Just act like nothing happened? You think Reese is going to comply with our wishes and not signal to someone that he’s been compromised?”
Hawk shook his head. “No, but maybe we keep up a ruse as long as possible until we figure out exactly what Obsidian has planned next.”
“And how do you intend to do that?” Black asked.
“Just follow my lead,” Hawk said.
He strode across the room toward Reese, who was tethered to a chair. Alex and Black joined, forming an intimidating line in front of their captive.
Hawk turned to Alex. “Did you message the receptionist?”
She nodded. “She’s not coming back today or tomorrow.”
Hawk smiled. “Good. Now we can get down to business.”
Reese squirmed in his seat, fighting against the duct tape that kept him in place. “If you think I’m going to help you, you’re delusional.”
“I’m not going to ask twice,” Hawk said.
Black reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigar cutter. He held it up in front of Reese’s face so he could see it. “Do you know what this is?”
Reese nodded and shied away from Black, who intruded into the prisoner’s personal space.
“This is called a guillotine,” Black said, forging ahead despite Reese’s response. “I’m just going to slide one of your fingers in here like so and then snip—your finger is detached from your body. Now, if you wonder how effective this device is, the last guy I interrogated who refused is now called Knuckles because that’s all he has left.”
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