“It’s hard to argue against that.”
Hawk sighed. “None of that changes the fact that we just lost our first good lead on someone with connections to Obsidian. Someone has been reading our mail.”
CHAPTER 2
Washington, D.C.
HAWK AND ALEX ENTERED the Phoenix Foundation offices and trudged upstairs to meet with J.D. Blunt. The former Texas senator overseeing the special program working in conjunction with the CIA sat in his office with his feet propped up on the edge of his desk. With a cigar dangling from his mouth, he waved them inside once they made eye contact.
“Glad you two made it back alive,” Blunt said.
“There should’ve been three of us,” Hawk said as he settled into his seat.
Alex eased into her chair and nodded in agreement.
“We still don’t know where that shot came from,” she said. “I looked at all the surveillance footage from the deck and couldn’t find anything suspicious, much less someone firing a long range shot from The Sullivans in the direction of that Chinese freighter. It’s baffling.”
“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now, but there is something else you need to look into for me,” Blunt said. “And this kind of problem can have far-reaching consequences if we don’t act right away.”
Hawk shifted in his seat. “What kind of problem are we talking about here?”
“The kind that has to do with a cyber attack,” Blunt said.
Alex’s eyes lit up. “Did you say cyber attacks?”
Blunt smiled and leaned forward in his chair.
“I thought this might excite you, Alex,” he said. “Your expertise is going to come in extremely handy as we try to sort this problem out.”
“We’ve received several reports over the past few days about blackmail attempts occurring against U.S. Senators, starting with Louisiana’s Bernard Fontenot,” Blunt said.
“Fontenot,” Hawk said as he closed his eyes. “I remember something about him. Wasn’t he involved in a campaign finance scandal about eight years ago? He got caught taking a large sum money from a foreign national who was never named. Fontenot claimed it was an oversight. But for the sake of this investigation, let’s not worry about that.”
“Why?” Alex asked. “That could be quite a significant revelation if it turns out the senator is getting outside pressure from someone who isn’t a citizen.”
“It would surely open up a can of worms that I don’t think anyone on Capitol Hill or the White House wants at this point,” Blunt said. “Just keep the scope of this investigation narrow. We need to know who’s behind these attacks, specifically Fontenot’s. If we’re able to correctly identify the person or group orchestrating these efforts, that will go a long way in helping us figure out how to stop them.”
“Pulling the plug is always the easiest solution, if you ask me,” Hawk said.
“That’s the easy part,” Alex said. “The hard part is finding the right plug to tug on.”
“And at the moment, we’re somewhat in the dark about what the end game of this organization is,” Blunt said. “And that’s why you need to start with Fontenot. The group has made specific demands of him.”
“Such as . . . ?” Alex said.
“Fontenot, who is up for reelection next year, is head of the Senate’s prestigious intelligence committee. This group wants him to step down. And in exchange for his cooperation, they’ve promised not to release a handful of private communiqués they allegedly received from some anonymous source. We all know that’s a big steaming pile of bullshit. Whoever these people are, they hacked into the computer system on Capitol Hill and found dirt on a handful people.”
“Who’s to say they’re going to stop any time soon?” Alex asked.
“Exactly, which is why they need to be stopped sooner rather than later,” Blunt said. “Before long, all of Washington will be nothing but puppets in the hands of this clandestine group.”
“Could it be Obsidian?” Hawk asked.
Blunt shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. We still don’t have enough information. And that’s why I need you two focused and fully engaged in solving this mystery.”
“We’ll follow the evidence, sir, though there seems to be so little of it at the moment.”
“Actually, we know a few things more than what I just told you,” Blunt said. “To begin with, we know the attacks are originating in North Korea.”
“And you aren’t suspecting the North Koreans?” Hawk asked before his mouth fell agape.
“Everyone is a suspect at this point,” Blunt said. “The North Koreans, the Chinese, the Russians—hell, we’ve even batted around the possibility that this might be the work of some drug lord in Mexico. The bottom line is that we just don’t know who is most likely behind this. And that’s what I want you to find out.”
Hawk nodded. “I see. So, what about the CIA?”
“What about them?” Blunt asked.
“Why aren’t they getting involved in this?”
“This situation happens to be too intertwined in politics,” Blunt said, shaking his head. “They don’t want to be used in any partisan attacks from either side of the aisle. If we can handle this discreetly before news about the leaks slips out to the press, they’ll avoid a dicey public relations nightmare—and we’ll know the identity as well as the true intent of the group taking this type of action.”
Hawk smiled. “Do you enjoy just waving your magic wand from your ivory tower here to make problems go away?”
Blunt chuckled and nodded. “Probably almost as much as you enjoy being the one to make the problems disappear.”
“Does Fontenot know what we do?” Alex asked.
“As a member of the Senate Intelligence Committee, he’s aware that there’s a secret task force employed by the CIA to handle situations like this,” Blunt said. “However, he doesn’t know all the inner workings or who’s even involved.”
“So, if we pay him a visit, will he be able to trace us back to the Phoenix Foundation?” Alex asked.
Blunt held up his index finger and fished around in his top desk drawer. After a few seconds, he held up a pair of identification badges.
“I’ve been meaning to give these to you for a while,” Blunt said, sliding them across his desk toward Hawk and Alex. “This will enable you to access most government buildings here and speak directly with higher level personnel. And if anyone searches for you, you’ll show up in the CIA’s database under these new aliases.”
“Special Agent Roman and Special Agent Miller,” Alex said, reading off the tags.
“No first names?” Hawk asked.
“None needed,” Blunt said. “It keeps everything more streamlined. If someone asks for a check on you, the CIA will find you in the system and be able to verify your employment.”
“Sounds simple enough,” Hawk said.
A knock on Blunt’s door interrupted their conversation. It was Linda, Blunt’s secretary.
“What is it, Linda?” Blunt asked.
“I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but you told me to notify you if something happened to a member of congress.”
“And?” Blunt asked, waiting for the rest of the message.
“It’s Senator Mike Paxton, sir. He’s resigning effective immediately. During his impromptu press conference, he didn’t come straight out and say why, but social media is exploding with stories about him having an affair. According to some of my sources, he’s paying the woman off.”
Blunt chuckled. “If by sources you mean some random people on Twitter, we can hold off on positing any theories for the time being.”
She nodded and then disappeared down the hall.
“What committee is he on?” Alex asked.
“The Senate Commerce Committee,” Blunt said.
“The Commerce Committee and Intelligence Committee? Those are vastly different ends of the spectrum,” Hawk said. “If this is some orchestrated attack, the end game is still quite murky.”
>
Blunt nodded in agreement before his phone rang again.
“If you’ll excuse me for just one more moment,” Blunt said. “I need to take this call.”
Hawk looked at Alex and knit his brow. The connection between Fontenot and Paxton seemed weak, maybe even mere coincidence. But Hawk wasn’t about to come to that conclusion, especially not without an exhaustive investigation into it.
“I see,” Blunt said. “I appreciate you letting me know. I’ll be in touch soon.”
Blunt hung up and sighed. He rubbed his face and grimaced.
“What was that about?” Hawk asked. “More bad news?”
Blunt nodded. “That was a call from one of my contacts over at Langley. Apparently, just within the last two hours, there are seven other targeted senators who’ve reported that they’ve been pressured to step down or else embarrassing information would be released.”
“This is bigger than we thought,” Hawk said.
Blunt dismissed them with the back of his hand.
“Hurry up and get going,” Blunt said. “Senator Fontenot is expecting you to drop by and visit him at his home.”
He tapped a folder on his desk. Hawk picked up the documents and started scanning them.
“That has everything you need to know on Fontenot—and a whole lot more,” Blunt said. “Read it along the way. We don’t have any time to waste.”
Hawk flipped through the document, but was snapped back to reality by Alex tugging on his shirtsleeve.
“We need to get going, Hawk,” she said. “I’ll read everything to you along the way.”
CHAPTER 3
SENATOR BERNARD FONTENOT swilled the cognac around in his glass and stared out at the choppy water of the Potomac River. The steady breeze blowing across the water tousled Fontenot’s hair. He finger combed it back into place for a moment before suffering another attack.
The hell with it.
He took another swig of his drink and paced around his back porch, waiting for his guests to arrive. He preferred to conduct all of his meetings within the comfortable confines of his senate office at the Capitol Building, but not when the nature of his business was so sensitive. While he had never heard of Special Agents Roman and Miller before today, he did a little sleuthing and learned that the Miller agent was a woman—and a rather attractive one at that.
Fontenot had just endured a nasty divorce, likely due to the fact that he’d spent more time in Washington than in Baton Rouge since getting elected. That was ten years ago, plenty of time to drift apart from Jennifer. After he learned about her affair, he considered how to best handle the situation for the kids. If he lost his senate seat because he didn’t have his wife standing by him, so be it. His divorce wasn’t his doing—and it proved that he was committed to serving his constituents, even at great cost to his personal life. But that was two years ago, and the next election was fast approaching. And Special Agent Miller was definitely someone he could see himself pursuing. A strong woman with Washington connections was a perfect marriage candidate for him. It was something he could only think about if the two agents could make his other more pressing problem disappear.
However, Fontenot’s foray into dreamland was abruptly nixed when he saw the diamond on her finger as she walked onto the porch with Special Agent Roman.
Fontenot forced a smile in an attempt to be cordial and hide his disappointment.
“Good afternoon,” he said, offering his hand. “I’ve been expecting you two.”
The two agents shook his hand and introduced themselves.
“Would you two like something to drink?” Fontenot asked, hoisting his glass into the air. “Hennessy Timeless. I bought five bottles from the limited release, and it’s still the best cognac you’ll ever put to your lips.”
“No, thank you,” Agent Roman said.
“And you?” Fontenot said, turning to Agent Miller.
“I’m not much for cognac, but thank you for the generous offer.”
“Very well then,” Fontenot said before gesturing toward the two couches near the corner of the porch. “Why don’t we have a seat and discuss this predicament I’ve been put in.”
The two agents sat as Fontenot suggested. He set down his drink and then eased into the couch across from his guests.
“So, how much do you two know about my situation?” he asked.
“Enough to know that you’re being co-opted by someone who has access to all your information,” Agent Miller said.
Fontenot was distracted by her smile, even though he realized she was already spoken for. He sighed and then gazed out toward the water.
“That’s putting it lightly,” Fontenot said. “I heard that you two are the best team in all of Washington to make a problem like this go away.”
Agent Roman chuckled. “We have a PR team that likes to oversell our services.”
“If you can eliminate this problem for me, I don’t care if your track record is inflated or not. This kind of international meddling in U.S. politics is what everyone has been afraid of. None of this should even be an issue, but this is the current political climate we live in. Not much we can do about that.”
“Well, let’s see if we can address the issue of someone blackmailing you,” Agent Miller said. “Why don’t you start from the top and tell us what this is all about?”
Fontenot picked up his glass and took a long pull on it before setting it back down. He leaned forward on the couch and licked his lips.
“When I was growing up, my father was a diplomat,” Fontenot explained. “We lived all over the world from the time I was ten until I graduated from high school and enrolled at Harvard. When I was getting ready to go into the ninth grade, my father was transferred to the embassy in India. My parents weren’t satisfied with any of the English-speaking schools there, so they opted to send me to the La Gruyère Institute, a boarding school in Switzerland. It was a place for the children of elite parents, though I’m still not sure how my father justified the cost to send me there. But he did. And it was there that I met Yuri Azarov.”
Agent Miller’s eyes widened. “Yuri Azarov? The Yuri Azarov?”
Fontenot nodded. “Yes, Yuri Azarov, the Russian Secretary of State. We were just kids at the time, having fun and going to school. He was just Yuri to me—and still is.”
“Wait,” Agent Roman said, throwing his hands up in the air. “You’re still friends with Azarov?”
Fontenot nodded. “Going against all the advice that I’ve received over the years, we are still friends. I know it might seem strange to you, but sometimes there are bonds forged that go beyond our patriotic leanings.”
“You are aware that he’s turned a blind eye to atrocities committed on the Crimean peninsula,” Agent Roman said. “He could put an end to so many questionable Russian government practices if he had any common decency.”
Fontenot shook his head and looked down before responding. He glanced up at the two agents and took a deep breath. “Everything isn’t always as it seems, Agent Roman. Reality is always far more complicated than issuing a simple edict to make a country’s sins vanish. Absolution often requires a significant purge. And that’s definitely not something Yuri can accomplish on his own. While he can influence some policies, I can assure you his presence in the office of Secretary of State has yielded far more positive results than you will likely ever know about.”
“And who told you about this?” Agent Roman asked. “Was this something he told you about himself?”
“I have no reason to hold him suspect,” Fontenot said. “Yuri has been a longtime confidant to me. I’ve never caught him lying to me nor have I ever known him to be deceitful.”
“People can change, Senator,” Agent Miller said.
“I know because I certainly have—and for the better, just like Yuri.”
“Don’t be so naïve,” Agent Roman said. “If you’re only hearing the story from him, you’re likely not hearing everything.”
“Your predis
position toward Yuri—one held by many others in Washington—is what has placed me in this predicament,” Fontenot said.
Agent Roman nodded. “Go on.”
“When we were at La Gruyère, we joined the chess team. I was hesitant at first but decided to sign up at Yuri’s insistence. Playing with some of the best young minds in the world helped me become an avid player as I fell in love with the game. And that has been a bond that I’ve been unable to break.”
“Please explain what you mean by that,” Agent Miller said.
“Yuri and I are both very competitive and often ditched our studies for a friendly chess match. However, they weren’t always friendly, often vicious with accompanying bets such as the loser had to streak across campus, oftentimes barefooted in the snow.”
“And you continue this tradition today, don’t you?” Agent Miller asked.
Fontenot took another gulp from his glass and then placed it back down on the table. “I love tradition, like the kind where we always finish a bottle of vodka while we play a game of chess. And how we made a pact before we left school to meet up once a year for a match and to share what’s happening in our lives.”
“Is that all that happened?” Agent Roman asked.
“I swear that’s it. Just an innocent chess match in Rome one evening that was apparently captured on film by someone who intended to use it against me at some point. I even wore a disguise that night. But someone followed me and took pictures. Now those pictures resurfaced and I appear to be meeting nefariously with Yuri Azarov.”
“Is that how the blackmail was presented to you?” Agent Miller asked.
Fontenot nodded. “If I don’t resign, these images will be released to the press ahead of my election next year.”
“And if we follow the money, where will it lead?” Agent Roman asked.
“I’m not sure, to be honest. Someone obviously wants my seat, though I haven’t heard any rumblings from Louisiana about who might be serious about it. I’m nearing the end of my second term, and my approval ratings are through the roof. As the Times-Picayune recently said, I’m ‘beloved in the bayou,’ which should tell you what you need to know.”
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