“Your persistence and dedication to your cause is to be admired, but you have failed. You intended to trap me but didn’t account for everything.”
“Even a broken clock is right twice a day.”
“I think it’s safe to say I’ve been right more than that,” Hawk said. “But it doesn’t matter because I was right today and your plans stop right here with you.”
“You won’t get away with this,” she said. “I’m too famous to just go missing. People will search for me. Governments will want to know what happened to me.”
“Oh, they will search for you, but not in an effort to rescue you. They will be looking for the woman who stole all their money and vanished into thin air. Trust me. We’ve thought of everything.”
“You bastard. I swear on my mother’s grave—”
“I’d advise you against making any promises you can’t keep,” Hawk said. “However, I will keep one promise I made to your daughter a long time ago. I told her that I wouldn’t kill you without letting you speak to her one final time.”
Hawk took an extra earpiece out of his pocket and handed it to Petrov.
“Go on,” he said. “Put it in your ear. Alex wants to speak with you.”
“So this is goodbye?” Alex said.
“Unless you can convince your madman friend to let me go, it would appear that way,” Petrov said.
“I wish I had the chance to really get to know you,” Alex said. “I don’t believe you’re as horrible of a person as you portray yourself to be.”
Petrov forced a nervous laugh. “Well, I don’t portray myself to be any such way. I am simply a servant to my country, doing whatever is asked of me. When I was married to your father and became pregnant with you, I did what was asked, which was to raise you up and love you as I would any child I gave birth to. And I did it well. While I hate to disappoint you, I don’t feel the same way as you. Getting to know you was never a priority of mine. You were nothing more than a mistake, an extra burden to my assignment.”
Alex’s voice quivered. “I don’t believe you.”
“I can’t make you believe it, but it doesn’t matter. It’s the truth. I’m not sorry for abandoning you or anything that I did. To be honest, you’re lucky to be alive.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Alex said.
“If you haven’t learned by now, if you don’t want to hear the answer, don’t ask the question.”
Alex relented. “We will work hard to show the world what your true legacy is—and that your biggest ‘mistake’ turned out to be the only good thing that came from you.”
“Goodbye, Alex,” Petrov said. “You probably deserved better, but it doesn’t change the fact that you were a mistake.”
“Just do it, Hawk,” Alex said.
Petrov ripped out the earpiece and threw it at Hawk.
“Make it quick,” she said.
Hawk obliged, putting a bullet in the center of her forehead. Petrov crumpled to the ground. He grabbed a rope and tied it to both of Petrov’s legs. Then he found a sandbag and tethered it to her body. Moving swiftly, he peeked out the door. With no other pedestrians lurking around, he rushed to the deck and dropped Petrov’s body into the water. She sank fast and went unnoticed by anyone on the observation deck.
“She’s gone,” Hawk said over the coms. “And she’s never coming back.”
Alex’s sigh was audible followed by a whispered “thank you.”
Hawk returned to the top of the ferry with the rest of the pedestrians. He sat down but couldn’t relax. He still had plenty of work to do.
CHAPTER 28
LATER THAT EVENING, Hawk reunited at a hotel with Blunt, Alex, and General Van Fortner. Fortner explained how Samuels had been flown back to the military hospital on his base and was in critical condition.
“What are the doctors saying?” Hawk asked.
“It’s still touch and go at this point,” Fortner said. “The surgeon I spoke to said he’d give Samuels a 50-50 chance of surviving.”
“He sacrificed everything for this mission. Keep us posted, will you?”
Hawk glanced at Alex, whose eyes welled up with tears.
“Stay strong,” Hawk said. “He could still pull through.”
Hawk then recounted for everyone how he killed Petrov. Sensitive to Alex, he didn’t go into all the details, sticking to the basics. He could see relief on the faces of everyone in the room. Then Hawk proceeded to share his final conversation with Petrov.
“She said that we wouldn’t be able to stop the one world currency movement at this point, even with her out of the way,” Hawk said.
“I hate to say this, but she’s probably right,” Blunt said as he sat propped up in one of the beds. “There are a lot of moving parts in this push to change, and she did a great job at generating momentum in all of the sectors that mattered most. The financial decision makers, the court of pubic opinion, the international political bodies—she approached this like a pro and certainly understood what she was doing.”
“In that case, we simply need to reverse everything she did,” Hawk said. “I’m sure there were plenty of people who felt cajoled by her actions, if not outright threatened.”
Fortner nodded. “Probably true, but she’s done a great job at creating a groundswell of support among the general public. Any politician worth his weight in salt isn’t going to ignore that at this point.”
“You’re not suggesting we give up, are you?” Hawk asked.
Fortner shook his head. “At times, we need to be shrewder in how we solve a problem.”
“So, what do you suggest?” Hawk asked.
Fortner paced around the room. “We need to undermine the movement and expose it for what it really is—a Russian attempt at a power grab of the global economy. Nobody has made much of the Russian banks being the ones with all the power in setting the conversion rates when countries exchange their money in for the new one world currency.”
“And each nation has to have their share backed up by gold, trading for it,” Blunt said.
“Once Russia gets control of all the gold, they could bankrupt their own system and leave the other nations broke,” Hawk said.
“That’s precisely why this is such an important issue.”
“But wouldn’t such a move likely leave Russia with more enemies than it could possibly fight off?” Hawk asked. “It’d be the world against Russia.”
Blunt shrugged. “But how would these countries pay their soldiers if their coffers are bare? No one would accept that worthless money, making the buildup of an effective campaign that much more difficult.”
“Petrov’s bosses really thought of everything, didn’t they?” Hawk asked.
“Yes, but they didn’t count on a small force like Firestorm being so disruptive,” Blunt said. “We can still stop this before everyone transfers their gold to the Russians.”
“That looks like it’s our only shot,” Hawk said.
“We need ironclad proof that leaders are being tricked and manipulated into doing this,” Blunt said.
After listening in silence, Alex finally spoke up.
“We already have some,” she said. “If we can show everyone that Petrov had Michaels under her thumb, we’ll be able to convince journalists and other world leaders.”
“And we know some well-placed journalists,” Hawk said.
“Where is all this information? And how did you get it?” Blunt asked.
“You don’t want to know the answer to your second question,” Hawk said.
Alex glanced at her computer. “The info is all stored on my computer. I’ve been collecting it ever since we activated that watch on the President, which oddly stopped working a few hours ago.”
“Were you able to capture Michaels’ conversation with Petrov from earlier today?” Blunt asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Alex said, patting the top of her computer. “It’s all right here.”
A knock at the door interrupted their brainstormi
ng session.
“Does anyone know we’re here?” Blunt asked.
Hawk pulled out his gun and screwed a silencer on the end of it. Then he eased the safety off.
“Why don’t you take it, General?” Hawk said.
Fortner shrugged and walked over to the door. He looked through the peephole.
“Did either of you order room service?” he asked.
The remaining trio all shook their heads.
“Who is it?” Fortner shouted through the door.
“Room service,” came the reply.
“Sorry, we didn’t order any.”
“That’s not what I have on my ticket,” the waiter replied. “This is room 345, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but we’ll decline it,” Fortner said.
“Sir, I can’t return with this bottle of wine that’s worth 300 euros, nor can I leave it out in the hall since it’s alcohol, hotel policy.”
“One moment please,” Fortner said. Turning toward Blunt, he asked, “What now?”
“Just take it,” Blunt said. “We’ll pour it down the drain.”
Hawk nodded but backed into the bathroom and trained his gun on the door.
“Okay, I’ll take it,” Fortner said, checking the peephole one final time. He proceeded to remove the panic chain and turned the deadbolt. However, the door crashed into him and a pair of soldiers wearing body armor stormed into the room.
Hawk fired two shots at the men before one of the men hit Hawk in the shoulder with a tranquilizer. He fell to the ground and his gun fell from his hand.
“Now, no one else move,” said Frank Stone as he entered the room wearing a hotel staff uniform. He kicked Hawk’s gun aside.
Hawk tried to sit up as his vision blurred.
“Take every piece of electronic equipment in this room,” Stone ordered the other soldiers. “Every watch, every phone. Nothing that runs off power is to be left behind.”
Alex glowered at Stone. “What are you going to do to us?”
“Nothing,” Stone said. “Unlike some people in this room, I know how to follow orders.” He nodded at Fortner. “Your presence here will be passed along to your superiors, as well as your unauthorized use of a Ranger team.”
“Screw you,” Fortner said.
Stone wagged his gun at Fortner.
“Settle down, General. You made these decisions, not me.”
The soldiers ripped cords out of the wall and piled all of Alex’s computer equipment on the waiter’s cart. In less than a minute, they had gathered everything.
“Evening, gentlemen,” Stone said before glancing at Alex, “and lady.”
The door slammed shut behind them.
Hawk’s eyes grew heavy and he decided to lie on the cold bathroom floor.
“Please tell me you made a copy of everything,” Blunt said as he looked at Alex.
She took a long breath and hung her head.
“I didn’t have a chance yet.”
“All our evidence is gone,” Blunt screamed. He then launched into an expletive-laden tirade.
The reality of what had just happened dawned on everyone in the room—any chance of showing the American public as well as the global community what President Michaels had been up to just vanished.
Hawk closed his eyes and passed out.
CHAPTER 29
Washington, D.C.
THREE DAYS LATER, Hawk stumbled out of bed in one of Blunt’s safe houses in Washington, D.C. He started a pot of coffee and picked up a copy of The Washington Post sitting on the kitchen table. Next to it was a note from Blunt, who said he’d gone to the store but would return in half an hour.
Hawk knocked on Alex’s bedroom door.
“Come in,” she said.
Hawk entered the room and found her sitting at her desk. She typed furiously and didn’t even look up.
“How’d you sleep last night?” she said.
“Better. And you?”
“Couldn’t sleep. I get restless when I don’t have my equipment up and running.”
Hawk sat down on her bed. “Configuring all your new equipment?”
She nodded and continued typing.
“I’ll let you get back to it then,” he said. “Want me to fix you some breakfast?”
She nodded before stopping and spinning around in her chair to face him.
“Did you read the paper yet?”
Hawk shook his head. “I was just about to sit down and see if I could find anything interesting to read.”
“Front page, below the fold,” she said. “Apparently, they found parts of my mother’s body floating in the Bosphorus, but no head.”
“So, no way to tell what happened to her?”
“No left arm or right foot either. She was quote-unquote chewed to pieces by marine animal life, according to the article.”
“That should shake some people up,” Hawk said.
“Hopefully that will wake some people up and they’ll realize what she was trying to do.”
“If anything, it gives me a good opening to speak with our reporter friend today. Little things matter more to a reporter than timeliness of a story.”
“Good luck with that,” she said. “I’m going out later on to grab a few things to finish building my computer.”
“Breakfast should be ready in fifteen minutes,” he said before closing the door and returning to the kitchen.
Hawk read the front page story detailing the discovery of Katarina Petrov’s death. There was an accompanying article that discussed what bearing her death would have on the formation of the one world currency. Another story on the opinion page outlined President Michaels’ options to get the U.S. in line with the rest of the countries signing up for the new global economic policy. One sentence stood out to Hawk.
“While Michaels’ attempt to persuade the Supreme Court to rule that the Federal Reserve Act was unsuccessful, it’ll be a footnote in the annals of U.S. history if he can persuade the Federal Reserve’s board to relinquish its power or direct Congress to adopt Petrov’s vision for a one world currency.”
Hawk’s eyes widened.
If he can pull that off, there’s nothing we can do about it. We’re all screwed.
Discouraged, he closed the paper and started making breakfast.
* * *
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Hawk donned a disguise and walked several blocks to a run-down laundromat. Thumbing a card in his pocket, Hawk made sure to keep his head down to avoid any facial recognition scans Michaels might be running through any of the city’s publicly placed cameras. He tugged his hat low on his face and wore large sunglasses.
He found the lone pay phone around the side of the building. Covered in graffiti, Hawk picked up the receiver and was pleasantly surprised to find it in working condition. The numbers and letters on the keypad had been worn off and were difficult to see without a close examination. He pulled the card out of his pocket and dialed the number of New York Times reporter Lee Hendridge.
“Hi, Lee. This is your favorite government source,” Hawk said.
“Who?”
“I’d rather not say, but I’m pretty sure you recognize my voice.”
“Yeah, okay. I know who this is. What do you want?”
“I was wondering if you’d be interested in a big story, a blockbuster story, the kind that could make your career explode.”
Hendridge remained silent.
“Lee, are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Just not sure I want anything to do with something that will make anything in my life explode. I’ve had enough of that.”
“Are you all right?” Hawk asked.
“Yeah. Just kind of busy with some other stories right now. Maybe in a couple of weeks. I’m just tied up at the moment.”
“This story will be old news by then,” Hawk said.
“Well, give it to someone else then. I’m trying to tell you as politely as possible that I’m not available to look into whatever story you’re push
ing right now.”
“Got any suggestions for who might be willing to run with something like this?”
“Do your own research,” Lee said. “Gotta run.”
Hendridge hung up and Hawk followed suit.
On his way back to the safe house, Hawk replayed the conversation in his head a couple of times. Something definitely felt off. Hendridge acted cold and almost indifferent to the story. The reporter Hawk had met earlier was far more engaging and winsome. And he would’ve pursued any tips Hawk passed along like a wild animals on a fresh carcass.
Hawk considered that perhaps Hendridge thought his phone was tapped. Given the recent history of presidential administrations tapping journalists’ phones, such paranoia was completely justifiable. A simple “no thank you” would’ve sufficed if Hendridge truly wanted to distance himself from Hawk’s lead. But the evasive answers and foggy memory made Hawk wonder if something else was going on.
Back at the safe house, he reported what happened to Blunt and Alex. Neither of them had any better theories than Hawk, just wild speculation as to what could’ve been the reason for Hendridge’s behavior.
“I’m going to find out what’s really going on and pay him a visit tomorrow,” Hawk said.
“Be careful,” Blunt said. “I’m not sure that type of risk is worth it.”
“At this point, we’re running out of time,” Hawk said. “I can’t sit around and do nothing.”
“If you must,” Blunt said. “But exercise extreme caution. Michaels is unhinged and who knows what he’s got planned for us. But I can promise you that whatever it is, it won’t be good.”
CHAPTER 30
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Blunt received a text message requiring an urgent response. He hadn’t even finished his morning cup of coffee or read his copy of The Washington Post, self-imposed prerequisites before he spoke to anyone at the start of a new day. He groaned as he eased out of his chair and paced around the room. The combination of rest and painkillers helped him recover more quickly than he’d anticipated, but he was still far from feeling back to his old self.
“Good morning,” Hawk said as he entered the kitchen.
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