“I’ll be looking forward to it,” he said.
She exited the room and was scuttled away by her guard, who kept his gun drawn and trained behind him until they rounded the corner. When they reached a place of safety, she turned toward Ramin and gave him a hug.
“It’s so good to see you, Ramin,” she said.
“Thank you for saving me,” he said. “But please don’t take me to my father. I will serve Al Fatihin as long as I never have to spend another minute in his presence.”
She shook her head and clucked her tongue. “Oh, Ramin. You’ve been held captive for far too long by those animals. You might be interested to know that your father has changed—and all for the better.”
CHAPTER 6
Washington, D.C.
HAWK AND BLACK GATHERED quietly around the conference table and waited for Blunt to saunter into the room. Two days had passed since the failed attempt to extract the identity of the man in the photograph from Evana Bahar, even though it was always a long shot. Hawk bit his lip and shook his head as he pondered how to handle another operational failure. Losing was getting old fast.
Blunt hobbled into the room with a stack of folders tucked beneath his arms. He was working over another cigar in his mouth when he dropped everything down on the spot in front of his chair and fell into it with a sigh.
“I think I need to hire some more analysts,” he said. “Or at least find some agents who aren’t so reckless.”
Black looked down at the floor before making eye contact with Blunt. “I’m sorry, sir. I know that I’ve caused you quite a bit of grief over the affair in Sudan. I thought I had an opening, so I went for it. Unfortunately, things didn’t pan out.”
“You just spent nearly two weeks as a prisoner of Al Fatihin after getting set up—and you just shrug it off and say things didn’t pan out? It was an unmitigated disaster, that’s what it was. And we had to give up a terrorist just to keep your head attached to your shoulders.”
“And I’m most grateful for that, sir,” Black said. “In hindsight, I can see how it appeared to be a foolish course of action. But in the moment, I only wanted to make the mission a success.”
“Well, you failed,” Blunt said. “And not only did you fail, we failed the American people by releasing a terrorist who’s now far more motivated to strike back at us after behind held captive. He may have been worthless before for his operational knowledge, but he’s certain to be a menace after being reunited with Al Fatihin.”
“Again, I’m sorry, sir,” Black said. “I wish there was something I could do to reverse what’s already happened.”
Blunt ignored Black and turned his steely gaze toward Hawk.
“And then there's you,” Blunt said. “You thought Evana Bahar would just volunteer the information about our mystery man. Need I remind you, she's not running a faux charity anymore. She's the freaking leader of a terrorist cell that's hell-bent on wreaking havoc on U.S. interests.”
“I understand, sir. Convincing her to help us was a long shot, though I did glean some intel from our meeting.”
“What? That’s she’s pregnant? Big deal,” Blunt said, waving his hand dismissively. “We need the kind of information that will lead to the capture of this man if we’re ever going to find out what really happened at the U.N. that night or figure out what Obsidian is planning next.”
Alex stormed into the room and flung a folder onto the table. “Gentlemen, I just solved our little problem. I know who our mystery man is.”
Hawk stared up at his wife, mouth agape. “You figured it out? How in the world did—”
She sat down next to him while the men sifted through the photos spilling out on the table.
“In this day and age, it’s almost impossible to be this off the grid,” she said. “With CCTV cameras everywhere gathering images and collecting them in a centralized database that we share worldwide with other agencies, the chances of someone being this mysterious and never appearing in any stills or videos while moving between countries made me wonder if there was some other way he could’ve subverted the system.”
“And what did you find?” Blunt asked.
“Well, I put this project on the backburner a few days ago, hoping that Hawk would get Evana Bahar to talk. But when that didn’t work, I resumed my research and came across a posting in a dark web chat room where one user was bragging about how slight reconstruction surgery was enough to throw off enough of the data points used in facial recognition software. The poster even listed the easiest places to tweak to fool the system.”
“That’s how you found this guy? On a dark web chat room?” Black asked as he studied one of the photos.
“No, I took his photo and adjusted the suggested points to come up with an old image of the guy and then inserted it back into the system. That's when I came up with this name—Dr. Daniel Becker.”
“Are you sure this is the same guy?” Hawk asked as he held up a picture.
Alex nodded before grabbing the folder and sifting to the last image, which showed Becker in an older photo next to her simulation of him.
“See for yourself,” she said.
“How do you know that you didn't just tweak the image of our mystery man just enough and come up with a spitting image of Becker?” Blunt asked.
“I wondered the same thing until I came across this nugget while doing a little background research on the doc,” she said. “He used to work as a fundraiser with Evana Bahar when he had a practice in London. What are the chances of her knowing the old Dr. Becker and a guy who looked just like the new one?”
“Slim to none,” Hawk said. “This is our guy.”
Alex dropped another folder onto the table. “But that isn’t all. Guess who else Dr. Becker had ties to?”
“Out with it,” Blunt said. “You and Hawk have to stop with these quiz show presentations.”
“Katarina Petrov, the same Katarina that ran The Chamber,” Alex said.
“What does this guy do exactly?” Black asked.
“I’m still a bit mystified as to his relationship with both of these groups since he’s a well-respected doctor, now practicing in Geneva,” Alex said. “His CV reads like some super doctor. You wouldn’t believe the number of times he’s consulted with the World Health Organization. He’s also been the lead doctor on several epidemic cases in Africa and the Middle East. From a legal standpoint, he’s spotless. But I found some loose links between key people with The Chamber and Al Fatihin. Then he’s at the United Nations the day Obsidian attempted to infect the world.”
“Too much smoke not to be fire,” Blunt said. “I agree with this analysis. Great work, Alex.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“This is impressive, how you did this,” Black said. “Have you ever considered a career in espionage?”
“There are days I wish I hadn’t—and then there are days like today,” she said as a big smile spread across her face.
“Amazing, honey,” Hawk said.
“I also figured out why Evana Bahar wasn’t so keen on turning on him,” Alex said. “Apparently, Dr. Becker used some experimental treatment to save Evana’s eldest daughter, who was diagnosed with a rare form of brain cancer at the age of two.”
“When did you find out that she had a daughter?” Hawk asked. “I had no idea she was ever married.”
“According to any official government records, she wasn’t,” Alex said. “But Dr. Becker wrote about working with a woman who ran a charity in London and how he helped cure her daughter. The timeline fits for when she was meeting with him, including several pictures time-stamped before and after the time of this article of the two of them together. And some of them looked rather chummy.”
“Are you suggesting what I think you are?” Blunt asked.
“I’m not saying anything definitively on this, but all the signs point to the two of them having some sort of relationship that extended beyond his help in attracting London’s wealthiest donors to several fun
draisers to help with her refugee relocation charity.”
Black chuckled. “This blows away my preconceived idea of what a terrorist is supposed to look like.”
“Welcome to the twenty-first century,” Alex said, “where you can be a stay-at-home mom and terrorist. The sky’s the limit.”
“Maybe it’s how these Muslim women are getting rid of deadbeat husbands,” Black cracked. “Just convince them to blow themselves up in the name of Islam and you don’t have to worry about the shame of divorce, which I hear is quite the burden for Muslims.”
“Cute,” Blunt said. “But that’s enough conjecture. Let’s just go get Dr. Becker and ask him these questions ourselves.”
“Sounds like a great idea to me,” Alex said. “Now all we have to do is break into his literal fortress of a home located in the Swiss Alps that used to be a castle.”
“And I’m sure you have a plan,” Blunt said.
“Of course I do. We’re just going to walk through the front door,” Alex said before turning to Hawk and Black. “Wheels up in twenty-four hours, gentlemen.”
CHAPTER 7
Saint-Cergue, Switzerland
ALEX GRIPPED THE LEATHER steering wheel tightly as she wove up the twisting mountain road. She flashed her lights at a slow car before speeding past it on a short straightaway. Her hair whipped in the wind, nearly destroying the hair-do she had spent over an hour perfecting back at the hotel.
She slowed down and depressed the button recalling the car’s roof. Glancing over at Black, she noticed the white knuckles from his hands gripping the car door.
“You all right over there?” she asked.
Black nodded. “You know, when I get into a shootout with a dozen bad guys with semi-automatics guns, I’m not even half afraid as I am right now with you whipping around these corners here.”
She chuckled. “Maybe Hawk is justified for insisting on being behind the steering wheel whenever we go somewhere together.”
“Maybe I should’ve been more persistent.”
“No, you’re just fine,” she said. “And you haven’t gotten into an accident with me at the helm, have you?”
He shook his head slowly. “We’re still not there yet—or back.”
“Fine,” she said. “You can drive back, but don’t complain about how this car handles. It’s made for going fast, not for a luxurious ride.”
As Alex approached the top of the mountain, less than a mile away from the entrance to the property, she eased off the accelerator and reviewed different elements of the mission with him.
“Do you understand what your role is tonight?” she asked.
He nodded. “Make them think we're indeed a power couple, and do whatever I can to ensure that we get Dr. Becker alone for a while.”
“No running around waving your gun,” she said.
“And keep your hands to yourself,” Hawk said over the coms device.
He was set up nearby in a van to monitor the proceedings via audio and the security camera feed Alex had tapped into before leaving for the gala at Dr. Becker’s estate.
Black shook his head. “Don’t worry, Hawk. I’ll be the perfect gentlemen, only stealing a kiss if it’s absolutely necessary.”
Hawk chuckled. “You better be joking.”
Alex welcomed the opportunity to dress up in a shimmering silver sequined dress, something she didn’t get to do all that often while working for Blunt. Her most common attire consisted of jeans and a sweatshirt. But tonight was different.
Despite such short notice, Alex had secured entrance to the event by calling two Americans—Phillip and Angela Muncie—with invitations and requesting to go in their place. Phillip, who had worked in intelligence for the U.S. government, readily agreed but had to come up with a valid excuse to dissuade his wife from attending. She was passionate about saving the environment and told her husband that she'd been looking forward to the environmental fundraiser for months so she could meet several of her conservation heroes. But in the end, Phillip convinced her to yield her ticket by promising to take her to another event later in the month in Bali.
The event was a who's who in the environmental world with many world leaders there. Because Black looked more like Phillip naturally and that it was possible Hawk had crossed paths with several of the attendees with scurrilous backgrounds, Black earned the nod as the one to escort Alex, posing as the Muncies.
“Are you sure no one is going to recognize you?” Alex asked Black.
He nodded. “I do my best work undercover. Infiltrating impenetrable groups is where Blunt has assigned me for the past several years. And, to be quite frank, I'm not sure I would ever willingly seek out anyone from this group.”
“You’re not a fan of recycling?” she chided.
“I do my part for the planet. But what really irks me are these elitist snobs who act as if they care about saving the world and implementing harsh sanctions on the regular person while flitting about the globe on their gas-guzzling private jets, unaffected by even the slightest heightened cost for their indulgences. What they don’t realize is that we’ll probably all end up killing each other before the planet reaches a critical level.”
“Don’t we both know that all too well,” Alex said. “However, I’d ask that you put aside your disdain for these people and be polite and smile and make friendly banter. Can you do that for me?”
Black sighed. “I promise to be good.”
“That’s all I can ask for. That and that you don’t go charging into the fray again, no matter how likely it seems that danger is imminent.”
Black held up his middle and index fingers together. “Scout’s honor.”
She cast a sideways glance at him. “You were never a boy scout.”
“I should’ve known better than to try and sneak that past you.”
“This should be a simple assignment,” she said. “We get in and out with the information. And then we’re back on a plane to Washington by midnight.”
“Sounds easy enough.”
They came around the bend and were face to face with Dr. Becker’s estate, which was surrounded by a ten-foot high wall constructed from stone. The only entrance was through a large wooden gate guarded by a pair of armed men.
“You’re good to go,” Hawk said. “Your photos just uploaded to the database. Congratulations. You are now Mr. and Mrs. Muncie.”
“I always liked the name Angela,” Alex said.
“It seems fitting with the blonde wig that you’re sporting,” Black said. “All the Angelas I’ve ever known always dyed their hair.”
She glanced over at Black. “You ready?”
He nodded as they eased to a stop next to the guard station, just short of entering the grounds. The estate was an old castle that had been renovated and restored to its full glory from the late nineteenth century. The turrets on the corners of the walls were unmanned, and security seemed rather lax, at least according to the standards that Alex was used to dealing with.
While they waited for the signal to proceed, Alex combed her hair before deciding to put it up in a bun.
The guard at the gate wore a pair of white gloves and had a semi-automatic weapon slung over his shoulder. After completing a check of the vehicle in front of them, he motioned for Alex to roll down her window.
“Invitation and identification, please,” he said as he held out his hand.
“Good evening,” Alex said as she slid the requested documents into the man's hands. He studied them carefully before shining his flashlight inside the sports car at Alex. Crouching down to get eye level with the window, the guard lit up Black's face as well.
The guard stood upright again and then handed everything back to Alex.
“Have a good evening,” he said before waving them through.
She rolled up the window and slipped inside, following the instructions of the attendant directing them toward the front door. After she came to a stop near the front steps, a pair of young men hustled around to o
pen the car doors to Alex’s vehicle. The idea of handing off the keys to a valet without a quick way of gaining access to her car was unsettling, but she’d requested two keys at the rental agency for such a moment.
“Take good care of her,” Alex said as she winked at the young man who was preparing to slide into the driver’s seat.
Once they were inside, a man greeted them at the door and offered to take Alex’s coat, but she declined his offer. Alex and Black were ushered to walk through a metal detector, which cleared both of them. Alex smiled as she considered how easy it was to disguise their weapons from the machine.
“We’re through,” she said.
“Roger that,” Hawk said. “You just came into view on one of the feeds I was monitoring. Give me the layout of the room.”
“Two guards at each of the exits, both armed with handguns. There are obviously several cameras around the room. Other than that, just your typical nineteenth-century castle great hall.”
“Do you recognize anyone?” Hawk asked.
“Not so far,” Alex said. “This crowd appears rather harmless to me. I’m not sure what the real purpose of this gathering is, but I’m starting to believe it’s just what it says it is: an environmental fundraiser.”
Black swiped a couple of champagne glasses and handed one to Alex.
“Thank you,” she said. “Such a gentleman.”
“Alex, I’m beginning to think you’re just messing with me,” Hawk said.
“You’re too easy, honey,” she said. “This is quite fun for me.”
“Well, you do look absolutely ravishing in that dress and coat. You appear to be quite the sophisticate with deep pockets to boot.”
“Focus,” Alex said. “This isn’t about my blonde wig or how stunning I look tonight. We need to find Dr. Becker and keep an eye on him in order to figure out the right moment to approach him.”
Guests continued to pour through the doors until the room was filled with at least sixty couples. Alex estimated the median age of the crowd was somewhere around fifty-five or sixty with a few outliers on both the younger and older side. She could tell that she and Black stood out more than she’d hoped they would, but that wasn’t something she had any control over. With her makeup, she did her best to make her look like a woman in her early fifties, drawing in lines and accentuating her burgeoning crow’s feet. The attempt wasn’t perfect, but she certainly didn’t appear to be the late twenties brunette that she was.
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