He cocked the gun and jammed it into her temple. “Don’t get too sassy with me. You aren’t vital to my operation.”
“Apparently I am, because I’m still here.”
“Maybe not for long if you keep up this pace.”
She cut her eyes over at the gun barrel. “I’d remove that if I were you. My lawyer has instructions to release some interesting documents to the world if I should ever die.”
Demby jammed his gun into her head even harder, so much so that her entire head tilted to one side.
“You got guts, woman. I’ll give you that. But it’s the kind of guts that will get you killed.”
He dismissed her. Fifteen minutes ago, he would’ve sworn that no problem he ever had would’ve ever been bigger than failing to deliver for Al Hasib.
He was wrong.
Dr. Ackerman was his biggest problem at the moment. But the situation could change. He’d make sure of it.
CHAPTER 24
ALEX STORMED INTO BLUNT’S OFFICE, pushing her way past his secretary. She flung an envelope at him and slumped into a chair. Propping her feet up on his desk, she nodded toward her special delivery.
“Go on,” she said. “Open it. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
Blunt stormed around the room and closed the door behind him. “I thought I told you not to come to my office again. This is a practice that needs to end right now.”
“Sorry, Senator, but this is the kind of conversation you can’t have properly on the phone. I need to see your face when you open that envelope and see what’s inside.”
He sat down behind his desk and picked up the envelope. He shook it for a second.
“For all this drama, I would’ve suspected that this right here would’ve weighed considerably more.”
“I’m not interested in your suppositions right now—only the truth about what’s inside.”
He glowered at her and then cut his eyes toward her feet, which were still perched on the end of his desk. “Do you mind?”
She slid her feet off his desk and let them hit the floor with a loud thud. Sitting upright, she clasped her hands together and rested them in her lap. “There. Happy now?”
Blunt pulled a letter opener out of his top right desk drawer and methodically worked the knife across the the envelope. Once he finished, he blew onto the envelope in order to flare out the sides and make it easier to pluck the contents. He pulled out the picture.
Blunt’s eyes widened slightly.
“Well, this isn’t what I expected?”
“What? Did you figure I unearthed some other secret?”
He forced a smile. “You don’t get into the position I’m in without keeping a few secrets, both others' and your own.”
She leaned forward and pointed at the picture in Blunt’s hands. “So, what kind of secret is this?”
“There are some things it’s just best you don’t know about.”
“Yeah, yeah. Plausible deniability. Please spare me. I want to know what’s going right now.”
He stood up. “Let’s take a walk.”
Blunt led Alex down the hall and outside. After they were a few hundred meters clear of the building, he finally spoke. “I apologize for the security measures, but you must understand that I can’t be too careful.”
She looked straight ahead at a woman pushing her daughter in a stroller. Once upon a time, a normal family was the life she wanted. That was before she found out how the world worked and decided she wanted to be an active participant instead of a passive bystander. She suddenly had a feeling she was about to discover again that it didn’t work the way she thought it did.
“I’d rather you apologize for keeping me in the dark about what I really joined up to.” She continued watching the mother toil as she pushed the carriage along.
“Firestorm still is—and always has been—the special ops program that I told you it was when I recruited you to work for it. Nothing has changed.”
“Then who do you work for? Because not a single person in that photo other than you is in our facial recognition database.”
“That’s because I had them scrubbed.”
“You? You had them scrubbed? Who are they, Senator? Who are you working with?”
Blunt steepled his hands, touching the tips of his forefingers to his lips. He took a deep breath before he spoke. “What I’m about to tell you may get us both killed, but I’d rather me tell you so you’ll drop it instead of ending up dead in a back alley somewhere.”
“I can handle myself.”
He nodded slowly. “I’m aware of that, but if these people wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”
“I get it. They’re powerful. What’s this all about?”
“I’m part of an international alliance of powerful men and women called The Chamber. Firestorm is a legitimate black ops group, but I’m tasked with using my assets in the field to help, among other things, eliminate targets that might be less than desirable if they gain substantial power.”
“So, what? Are we talking about dignitaries, terrorists, business leaders? Who are your main targets?”
He sighed. “Yes.”
“What do you mean, yes?”
“I mean all of them. Anyone who might potentially gain too much power before they ascend to unreachable heights could be eliminated.”
“And The Chamber acts as some type of curator for good?”
“Something like that.”
Alex shook her head. “What gives you the right to determine this? Who do you think you are?”
“Alex, dear, it’s no different than what you do every day. You want to see good triumph over evil. So does The Chamber. They just have the resources to manipulate the ending.”
“How old is this organization?”
“They’ve been around for a long time.”
“And yet the world has still seen evil the likes of say, Adolf Hitler, rise to power under their watch?”
“The Chamber tried to assassinate him on more than one occasion. Unfortunately, one of its operatives didn’t succeed until there had been far too much innocent blood shed.”
Alex eyed him closely. “Hitler committed suicide.”
“Were you there?” He chuckled. “The Chamber likes to remain invisible, which is why you’ve never heard of it until just now. But you’ll never hear about them. When you work well in the shadows, you stay there. You understand this, don’t you?”
She ignored his question. “And what happens if The Chamber gains too much power? Who’s going to stop them?”
“The Chamber’s mission isn’t to gain power but to assure that it rests in the hands of well-meaning men and women.”
“So, the prime minister of Denmark, Liam Jepsen, isn’t a well-intentioned leader?”
Blunt stared at her, mouth agape. “How do you know about that?”
Alex winked at him. “I’m deeply familiar with the art of espionage, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“Not all of our missions are affiliated with The Chamber,” Blunt said, sidestepping her question. “In fact, most of them aren’t. Most of what we do is about keeping this country safe and looking out for the best interests of our allies.”
“So, who are all those people in that photo with you?”
“It’s best that you don’t know. But you’re going to have to trust me on this.”
Alex said nothing as she tried to grapple with what she’d just learned.
Blunt pointed at the woman who’d been pushing a stroller. She was now seated on a bench and nursing her baby. “That right there is why we do this. There are innocent people in this world who need to be protected. Without people like you and me, the world would be a far more dangerous place.”
Studying the woman for a moment, Alex wondered if maybe that was the life for her and she’d been pursuing the wrong thing all this time.
He put his hands on Alex’s shoulders and turned her directly in front of him. They locked eyes.
“Alex,
you’re damn good at what you do—and what you do matters to millions of people. They may not see it, but I promise you that you’re on the right side in this war we fight in the shadows. You keep doing what you can to keep Hawk informed and safe out there, and I’ll make sure that none of it is ever in vain. Deal?”
She nodded and started to turn away before he spoke again. “One more thing.”
She turned toward him. “What is it, sir?”
“What did you find out about the feeds?”
“They were hacked. I had a friend look into them. Said a hacker named Bare Bones was responsible.”
“And do you know where to find this Bare Bones character?”
“No, but I’ll do some digging. Just know that it might be a few weeks. Hackers are only as good as their ability to remain anonymous.”
“And this one must be pretty good, I imagine.”
She nodded. “One of the best.”
“Thanks, Alex.”
They parted ways, leaving in opposite directions.
Alex glanced back at the woman who was now making funny faces at her daughter and bouncing her up and down.
She wanted to believe Blunt for both her sake and all of those nameless and faceless people that he'd mentioned. She stopped trusting people a long time ago, and she still wasn’t sure what she thought about Blunt’s passionate speech.
She determined right there that she was going to find out who those people were and what their true agenda was—even if it killed her.
CHAPTER 25
HAWK FINISHED HIS BEER and closely watched Visser for his poker “tell." With an average hand, Hawk would have no better than a fifty-fifty chance of winning. Almost everyone at the table would make riverboat gamblers question their own bravado in less than two hands into a game. For that reason, Hawk struggled to determine who the bluffers were and who weren’t. He needed more time to decide, time which he didn’t have.
“Fold,” Hawk said as he pushed away from the table.
“What? You fold?” Visser said, mocking Hawk. “The man who could shoot a fly off a moving elephant’s tail from eight hundred meters is going to bail?”
“Knowing when to fold is how you stay alive,” Hawk said with a wink.
Visser looked down at his hand and then back up at Hawk. “In poker? Or life?”
“My advice is universal.”
Hawk’s exit from the table left only Visser and Soto to battle it out. Hawk wandered toward the bar where Demby was nursing a bottle of Star, Sierra Leone’s most popular beer.
“Is that any good?” Hawk asked.
Demby smiled. “Better than drinking the water if you’re a foreigner.”
“I thought beer was always better than water, no matter what country.”
“Now that is a fact, my friend.”
Hawk motioned for the bartender and ordered a Star.
“Did your mine survive without you today?” Hawk asked.
“Probably did better without me.”
“Yesterday was quite a challenge. I’m glad everyone survived.”
“Thanks to you and Dr. Ackerman.”
The bartender popped the top off a bottle of Star and then slid it to Hawk.
“She’s quite stroppy.”
Demby furrowed his brow. “Stroppy?”
“It’s a Kiwi word. But you know—feisty, tough.”
“Ah,” Demby said while he nodded. “That I know. She is indeed.”
Demby held up his bottle and clinked it with Hawk’s. “Cheers, mate.”
Hawk smiled. “Cheers.”
“So, Mr. Martin, I have a problem and was wondering if you could help me solve it.”
“How can I be of assistance?”
“I understand that you are in the export business.”
Hawk nodded. “Do you have need of an exporter?”
“My method for exporting some of our precious cargo out of Sierra Leone has dried up, and I need an alternative way to get some product out of the country.”
“Where would I be moving this product? I’m not licensed everywhere.”
“I have some clients in the Middle East. Their shipments call for extreme discretion, if you understand what I’m saying.”
Hawk nodded. If he was going to portray himself as a discreet exporter, he didn’t need to ask any more questions.
“I can probably help you.”
Demby slapped him on the back. “You seem like a man I can trust.”
“Excellent. I’m planning on being around for a few more days. Is this something we can handle while I’m still here?”
“Most certainly. Perhaps tomorrow night we can meet to discuss how you can be of service to me.”
“I’ll be back from my hunting excursion then, so that will be perfect. I’ll await your call. You know where I’m staying.”
Demby shook Hawk’s hand. “I can see we’re going to get along just fine, Mr. Martin.”
***
BACK IN HIS ROOM, Hawk called Alex to tell her the good news and give her a full update on what had transpired.
“So, Demby took the bait?” she asked, almost matter of factly.
“Hook, line, and sinker.”
“Well, that went well.”
“It’s not over yet. I’m still in the dark about the weapons.”
“I’m sure they’ll turn up if they’re there.”
Hawk glanced at his watch and then outside at the star-filled sky. “Have you found out anything else about my father?”
“Nothing on him, but I’ve learned a few other things. When you get back, we need to talk.”
“Roger that.”
“Good luck, and stay in your legend.”
Hawk lingered by the window for a moment, enjoying the view. With relatively few streetlights, the stars seemed to blanket the sky.
While he was caught up admiring the sparkling constellations overhead, Hawk didn’t see the man crouching beneath his window slip off into the nearby forest.
CHAPTER 26
THE SUN HAD BARELY PEEKED above the horizon, but Demby had assembled every Sefadu Holdings employee for an urgent meeting just outside his office. He squinted as he glanced eastward, contemplating his next few words.
“I apologize for the inconvenience of the early start today, but I felt like I must say something before the incident two days ago begins to endanger our operation,” he said as he walked around the assembled group of men. “I was under a lot of stress the other day when the mine collapsed. I wasn’t acting in my right mind—and for that, I apologize. But I want to make it exceedingly clear to everyone here that I care deeply about each and every one of you. I am grateful that no one was crushed and killed in the collapse and that we can move forward. For now, we will be suspending the conversion process of our open-pit mines using block caving. There will come a day when we will venture back into those areas and mine them again. But that day is not now, nor in the immediate future.”
He turned and looked down upon the rubble still sprawled out across the bottom of the open-pit mine.
“We must continue to keep safety as our priority, but also remember that production is of utmost importance. We must be safe and alive to fulfill our obligations. But if we don’t fulfill our obligations, it doesn’t matter how safe and alive we are; we’ll all be out of a job. Is that understood?”
A few men mumbled in the affirmative.
“I can’t hear you,” Demby shouted.
“Yes, sir,” the men responded.
“I must also remind you that if news of this collapse begins to circulate, we may all lose our jobs. Some government official may want to inspect what we’re doing. Now, I suppose you all like being paid. Am I right?”
The men nodded.
“So, can I trust you to keep what happened here a secret between you and your families? No press, no government intrusions?”
The men all nodded again.
“Good, now let’s get to work.”
The men dispersed t
o their stations and began work for the day. Demby smiled as he watched the men scurry about in preparation for their tasks. Scanning the grounds, he caught Ibrahim’s eye and gestured for him to come over.
“What is it, boss?”
“There’s been a change of plans,” Demby said. “Dr. Ackerman and I came to an understanding, and we’re going to need to export Al Hasib’s diamonds through other means.”
“What did you have in mind?”
Demby stroked his chin. “Find out what you can about our new friend, Oliver Martin, the Kiwi exporter. I think he will be our best option at this point. He seems capable and willing—two traits I find highly desirable.”
“Do you think he’ll be a new permanent answer to our problem?”
Demby shrugged. “I see him more as a temporary solution at best, if you know what I mean.”
He trudged up the stairs to his office and placed a call to a Mr. Martin.
CHAPTER 27
IF THERE WAS A HEAVEN ON EARTH, Senator Blunt suspected it would be located somewhere near Carrizo Springs, Texas. Blunt adored Hog Heaven, his sprawling ranch nestled deep in the southwest Texas woods less than an hour away from the Mexican border. His hunting lodge was modest by Texas standards, but at five thousand square feet with fifteen bedrooms, it could host a substantial party.
However, for his impromptu trip back, Blunt wasn’t interested in seeing every bed filled for a roaring weekend of fun. And hunting was the last thing on his mind. This time, he went to Hog Heaven for privacy, the kind of extreme privacy that wasn’t available anywhere in D.C.
An elderly gentleman meandered through the hallway and stared at the pictures on the wall of statesmen, athletes, and various other celebrities.
“Who’s this guy?” the man asked Blunt.
Blunt took a sip of his coffee and shuffled out of the kitchen toward his guest. A wide smile broke across his face. “That’s Nolan Ryan, the greatest pitcher to ever come out of Texas.”
“What sport is that? Baseball?” the man asked. His question betrayed his nationality almost as much as his English accent.
Brady Hawk Box Set Page 24
