“We?”
“Madeline was helping me with some of those decisions at the time,” Young said. “That’s why I strongly recommended Samuels. I knew he was capable of doing something you couldn’t.”
“Which was what exactly?”
“Making an assessment without letting your emotions get in the way. Look, I get it. It’s never easy to separate our relationships with our assignments. Sometimes, we just have to trust people that can survey a situation without all that emotional baggage attached.”
“I’m sure you know that your last comment is bathed in irony.”
“And I’m not the least bit bothered by it,” Young said. “And for what it’s worth, he came back to me and gave me a full assessment of your team. He said everyone serving under you are dedicated team members and wholly committed to serving their country no matter the cost.”
“Next time, please give me a heads up about those types of things,” Blunt said.
But that’s not what he was thinking. He knew exactly who the traitor was on his team during that time—Shane Samuels. Blunt clenched his fists and contemplated taking a swing at the president. No matter how ill-advised it might’ve been, Blunt would’ve felt better about it all, even if just for a moment.
The limo pulled to a stop around the back of the Kennedy Center. Big Earv got out first, followed by Young and the rest of the secret service members.
Blunt waited until the limo parked away from the underground entrance before he exited the vehicle.
Shane Samuels was spying on Blunt’s team—and the first lady was undoubtedly behind it. Even before Blunt knew about the existence of Obsidian, it had an agent who had managed to infiltrate the U.S.’s most top secret special ops unit.
Blunt felt a wave of paranoia sweep over him. He wasn’t sure if there was a single person he could trust outside his team—and that even included Randy Wood.
Once Blunt returned home, he called the team and told them what Young had said. Blunt also gave them specific instructions on how to clean up the mess in New York.
It was time to take action.
CHAPTER 17
Washington, D.C.
TWO DAYS LATER, Hawk slapped a copy of The New York Times down on the conference room table before settling into his chair. He was the last one to the room as usual despite Alex’s repeated pleas to make a more concerted effort to be punctual.
“Would you like for me to read this aloud?” Hawk asked Blunt while pointing at the newspaper.
Blunt held his hands out wide. “By all means, I’d love to hear it.”
Hawk read Times’ reporter Camille Youngblood’s report about how Milton Reese, the non-profit director of the New York City branch of A Hand Up was found dead floating in the Hudson River. The story also detailed how the NYPD worked in conjunction with the FBI to foil a plot to bomb the city’s subway system. The FBI agent running point on the case said that Reese planned to act alone and that there was no reason to fear an attack.
When Hawk finished reading, he gave Blunt a sideways glance. “The subway system? How did they determine that?”
“They didn’t,” Blunt said. “I told the FBI what to say. We needed to eliminate Reese without drawing suspicion that we were on to them. It might make Obsidian a little more cautious, but they won’t be quaking in their boots after that last piece of news.”
“And Randy Wood didn’t give you a hard time about this?” Black asked.
“Randy never goes easy on me about anything,” Blunt said. “I had to listen to him vent for a while, explaining how we probably ruined the entire operation. But by the time he got everything off his chest, he wanted to make sure my team was still on board with stopping Obsidian’s coordinated attack.”
“Of course we are,” Hawk said. “But unless the CIA has something that can clone us—and I’m not talking about Michael Keaton-type clones—we can’t do this alone.”
“We don’t even know what this is,” Black said. “We’re only assuming at this point that Obsidian is coordinating attacks in the same cities as A Hand Up offices. But we have no intel that assures us that is the case.”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Alex said.
“And how’s that?” Black asked.
“We need to go to the source himself,” she said.
Blunt nodded. “Samuels?”
“Of course. He’s the one out there making everything happen for Obsidian,” Alex said. “He’s dealing with Orlovsky, who’s obviously supplying all the weapons.”
“Great idea,” Black said. “But if we can’t draw him out, we can’t confirm anything.”
Alex smiled and raised her index finger. “Funny that you should say that because I actually did a little digging and—”
“You mean hacking,” Black said.
“Whatever,” she said with a shrug. “The point is I found the first lady’s cell phone record and was able to analyze several of her calls, including one that connected with a cell tower in—you guessed it—Dubai. And on the same date Samuels was there.”
Hawk cocked his head to one side. “How did you know Samuels was there at that time?”
She glared at him. “Too soon, hun.”
“So, the first lady is far more than a casual observer,” Black said. “She’s deep into this operation with Obsidian.”
Blunt winced. “God forbid she’s actually running the show, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility yet. Either way, she’s highly involved. And her connection to Samuels is something we must exploit.”
“And how exactly are going to do that?” Black asked.
“I happen to know where she meets when she wants to avoid the public eye,” Alex said. “I’ve seen surveillance footage of her meeting with lobbyists and the like on satellite footage I obtained from the NSA.”
“We can’t exactly ask her to show up in some public place for our own op,” Black said. “Do you have any idea on how you plan to accomplish this?”
She nodded. “Piece of cake.”
“All except for the Secret Service bit,” Black said. “They’re not about to let her out of their sights no matter how skilled she is at sneaking away.”
“I’ve got that covered too,” Alex said.
“Then let’s get to planning,” Blunt said. “We only have three days before these attacks are schedule to take place.”
Alex grinned. “I’m already two steps ahead of you, sir.”
CHAPTER 18
Washington, D.C.
ALEX STUDIED HER FACE in her compact one more time before she snapped it shut and exited the black SUV along with her Secret Service detail. She had never been to Crispus Attucks Park, but she’d wanted to visit it for a while. And once she discovered it was one of the first lady’s favorite haunts when she wanted to feel normal or talk to someone without the press hovering over her, Alex set that as the meeting place with Samuels.
She pulled the collar on her coat taut and wondered if she’d be able to dupe Samuels. Although she spent most of her time behind a terminal, she was more than capable in the field. Hawk would likely be dead if she wasn’t. But this was another level of espionage that she’d never ventured to before.
“Think I can do this?” Alex asked, her voice quivering as it came through the coms.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of, Mrs. Hawk,” Big Earv said. “We’ll take care of you. Even if Samuels figures out who you are, he’s not going to try anything in a public place. And if he does, it’ll be the last thing he tries to do before I snuff him out.”
“Thank you for that lovely sentiment,” she said. “And, Big Earv?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t ever call me Mrs. Hawk again.”
He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Or ma’am either. Alex, just Alex. That’s more than enough.”
“Sorry, Alex. It’s a tough habit to break.”
“Leave him alone,” Hawk chimed in. “I kind of like the sound of Mrs. Hawk.”
“No one asked for your opinion,” Alex said with a slight grin. “I’ll deal with you later.”
She glanced over her shoulder at Hawk, who was sporting a coat and tie along with Black, both looking as if they were seasoned Secret Service agents.
He gave her a subtle nod, and she winked back at him.
She ambled alone until she reached a bench and settled onto the far left end. Opening a copy of The Washington Post, Alex took the opportunity to catch up on all the capital’s gossip. There was one article ranking the wealthiest bachelors in the city.
“No wonder nobody reads newspapers any more,” she muttered. “This is just like click bait headlines in print format.”
“Are you reading about the most available bachelors?” Big Earv asked.
“How’d you know?”
“That’s the only reason I buy The Post,” Big Earv said. “I’m still waiting for the day when I’m on the list.”
“I hate to break it to you, Big Earv, but as long as you’re serving in the Secret Service, you’re never going to be on that list,” Alex said. “Remember, you’re in the Secret Service. Nobody is supposed to know about you.”
“But I make a good living and have devilishly handsome looks,” he said.
“For a glorified body guard,” Alex said.
“Don’t ever call me that again, Mrs. Hawk.”
Hawk laughed so loud that it came across the coms.
“That’s not funny,” Alex said. “I hear you laughing, hun.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t suppress it,” Hawk said. “Big Earv is in rare form today.
“You’re just not around me enough,” Big Earv said. “This is my daily form.”
“He’s not lying,” the other agent said, backing up his colleague.
Alex sighed. “Enough of this foolishness,” she said. “Has anyone seen any signs of Shane Samuels in this park?”
“That’s a negative from me,” Big Earv said. “I’ve seen a trio of homeless men but no sign of Samuels.”
“He’ll be here,” Hawk said.
Alex watched the agents spread out as protocol dictated. She was certain Samuels would come, if anything out of curiosity. After scanning two more articles about the city’s social scene, Alex looked up and noticed a man walking toward her with his head down. He was leaning on a cane, though Alex wasn’t fooled. It was Samuels.
He walked with a noticeable limp, though exaggerated. Alex didn’t buy it as a legitimate injury.
“Please tell me you didn’t tear up your knee playing lacrosse,” she said in a whisper. “I’m warning you that you’re too old to be playing those kinds of sports.”
Samuels eyed her closely. “Are you okay?”
“I have a cold and lost my voice earlier this week. I hope you can still understand me.”
“Understand you? Yes. Hear you? Maybe.”
“I’ll try to amplify my voice as much as I can without it hurting,” she said.
“Thank you.”
Alex pushed an index card toward Samuels and sighed.
“What’s this?” Samuels asked.
He flipped it over and read the message: They are listening but can’t hear us when we whisper. Samuels nodded and eased the note back in her direction.
“So, what is the nature of this meeting?” he asked, his voice barely audible.
“Good,” she said softly. “Really good, in fact. I was just wondering how your family was doing.”
“They’re fine. No big family drama to speak of.”
“And what about your plans for Tuesday?” she said as her eyebrows shot upward.
“Same as they’ve been for quite a while. Nothing new there.”
“I just need to know where you are planning on going? Madrid? London? Paris? Berlin?”
“You already know everything you’re supposed to know.”
“I have a diplomatic trip planned to Europe for next week and—”
Samuels eyed her closely. “I’m beginning to wonder if you can actually hear me. You know everything you’re supposed to know.”
“But if I go to a place that I shouldn’t—”
“Nothing’s changed from the original plan.”
Alex sighed. “Your favorite aunt needs to know if she’s going to have a good experience during her upcoming travels. I’m not concerned with my husband. But I am worried about myself.”
Samuels took a deep breath as he scanned the area. “Look, just stay away from the airports in Madrid, London, Lisbon, and Paris.”
“What about Florence and Rome?”
“You shouldn’t experience any discomfort in either of those cities.”
“See,” Alex said, still in a whisper, “was that so difficult?”
He shook his head and gazed off into the distance. “I hope you have a plan.”
“For the future?” she asked.
He shrugged. “For that—and everything else. The world is unstable right now. I’d hate for you to get stuck somewhere else and caught up in the fray.”
“Of course I have a plan,” Alex said. “This life isn’t new to me.”
“Does your plan include your husband?”
She shook her head, resulting in a slight smile from Samuels.
“You always were my favorite aunt,” Samuels said.
She chuckled and leaned forward. The micro tracker in her open hand was barely visible and even less so while tucked away in her palm. Without him noticing, she slipped the device into the cuff of his pants as she patted him on the leg.
“Did you have anything else you wanted to discuss?” Samuels asked. “You made the nature of this meeting sound very urgent.”
“It was,” she said, her eyes bugging out. “I needed to make sure I wasn’t walking into a dangerous situation next week.”
“You’ll be fine,” Samuels said. “Have a nice trip.”
“Thank you,” Alex mouthed to him. He smiled and nodded before sauntering toward the park’s exit.
“Let’s grab him,” Hawk suggested. “I’d love to interrogate the little punk.”
“You had your chance in Dubai and failed,” Alex said. “Besides, we got everything we needed out of him. Now he’s going to lead us straight to his employer.”
CHAPTER 19
THE TEAM CONVENED at the Phoenix Foundation headquarters, setting up in the conference room to monitor all of Shane Samuels’s movements. Blunt wheeled his executive desk chair to join the festivities. He leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the table, intently watching Alex’s laptop mirrored onto the large flat screen affixed to the far wall.
“This must be quality entertainment for you,” Alex said while peeping over the top of her computer.
“Beats watching network television,” Blunt said.
“You’ve got a standing invitation to come over and browse through our Bollywood DVD collection for some more engaging movies,” she said.
Blunt chuckled and rolled his eyes. “I can also play solitaire on my phone for two hours and even that would be more entertaining than one of those silly foreign films.”
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,” Hawk said.
Blunt sighed. “I already know what I’d be getting, and this is definitely better than an Indian film.”
“That depends,” Hawk said.
“On what?” Blunt asked.
Hawk cocked his head to one side. “If Samuels does anything of interest. He could just be sitting around all day and counting his money for all we know.”
“And that’d still be more entertaining than reading the terrible translated lines of bad actors,” Blunt said.
Alex shook her head and smiled. “You just don’t know what you’re missing.”
Blunt pointed at the monitor. “It looks like you’re about to miss Samuels leaving his apartment.”
They all watched the dot on her computer program drift from one room to the other and finally come to a stop near the front door.
“Looks
like he’s about to leave,” Blunt said. “We need to know where he’s going.”
“False alarm,” Alex said. “He’s staying put for the time being.”
“What was that all about?” Blunt asked. “He looked like he was ready to hit the road.”
“Patience,” Black said. “A stakeout can’t be rushed. And believe you me, if I could rush it, I would.”
For the next two hours, the team watched the dot representing Samuels’s tracker on Alex’s screen. There was very little movement around the house. After a while, Blunt cracked that Samuels was taking a nap.
“Maybe he’s watching a riveting Bollywood movie,” Black said.
Alex shot him a sideways glance. “I detected a little sarcasm in that comment.”
“That’s why you’re a super spy, Alex,” Black said. “Nothing gets by you.”
Blunt sighed as he stood and pushed his chair backward. “I’m going back to my office. I was hoping this little pipsqueak would freak and do something stupid, but he’s apparently staying put for now. If something changes, please come and get me.”
“Well, maybe he’s not planning on going anywhere,” Alex said. “I just dug up some records where he paid to have a state-of-the-art security system installed.”
“Why else would he do that unless he wanted to hunker down there?” Black asked. “It’s not like he’s personal friends with the president’s family or anything and has anything to worry about.”
“If he’s staying put, I’m inclined to believe he’s not concerned about any attack being made on Washington,” Hawk said.
“Obsidian wouldn’t leave Washington out of their plans,” Blunt said as he stopped near the doorway. “That’d be foolish.”
“How so?” Black asked.
“The idea of attacking only where A Hand Up has offices makes sense, but if they want to strike back hard at the U.S., they need to make a statement. And the biggest statement of all is going to be made right here.”
“I think hitting New York and Chicago and L.A. would get people’s attention,” Hawk said.
“Perhaps, but the White House is the crown jewel,” Blunt said. “It’s the only city that not even the terrorists on 9/11 could successfully hit.”
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