“Get back to Washington right now,” Blunt said. “We need to figure out how we’re going to stop this.”
CHAPTER 26
Washington, D.C.
THE TEAM RECONVENED at the Phoenix Foundation offices at 2:00 p.m. to create a plan for handling a potential attack at the U.N. general assembly the following evening. Blunt announced that Dr. Peterson had arrived safely in Washington and had already been directed to the CIA’s most technologically advanced lab. Even more encouraging was the fact that Peterson had already called him and told him that he had all the ingredients on hand to start mass producing the antidote.
“Do we even know how many shots of the antidote we’ll need to administer?” Alex asked. “We’re talking about potentially millions of people here.”
“I told Peterson we wanted ten thousand to start with,” Blunt said. “He’s already ordered more, which should arrive within a couple days. But that should be enough to handle this event at the U.N.”
“What else do we know about this disease Obsidian plans to spread?” Hawk asked.
Blunt gnawed on his cigar as he handed out prepared reports to all the team members. “Everything you want to know about El Diablo is in there. According to Dr. Peterson, it’s actually a type of virus that presents very quickly but kills you slowly over the course of about two months. However, most doctors will believe it’s something benign until it’s too late. Victims’ organs will start to shut down, and it’s very painful.”
“Sounds awful,” Alex said.
“Yes, but the good news is that it’s incredibly difficult to make,” Blunt said. “You can only make it with this milk from this rare plant, some Latin name that I can’t pronounce—but it’s in that document somewhere. Anyway, they can only harvest the milk when it blooms, and that only happens once every seven years.”
“Sounds like you’re saying they don’t have much of this El Diablo around,” Black said, his head still buried in the report.
“That’s exactly right,” Blunt said. “Obsidian has one shot at this, according to Peterson.”
“What are you thinking?” Hawk asked.
“I’ve thought about this a lot since I learned that information regarding the virus,” Blunt began, “and I don’t make this decision lightly. Typically, we would try to go after the virus and capture it, but not this time. I want Obsidian to disseminate it.”
“What on earth for?” Alex asked, her eyes widening.
“If we make an attempt to snatch the virus and fail, we run the risk of this happening all over again.”
“We won’t fail,” Hawk said.
Blunt grimaced. “While this team is the best of the best, you’re not infallible. And I don’t want to risk the possibility that this substance escapes the U.N. without being utilized. We’d be back to square one.”
“But we’d have plenty of antidote to counteract the virus’s effects,” Alex argued.
Blunt nodded. “Perhaps, but the antidote needs to be administered within one week of contracting the virus. Otherwise, it’s worthless. Even with all the antidote in the world, that would still leave plenty of people vulnerable to the effects of El Diablo.”
“So, how exactly do you see this going down?” Hawk asked.
“According to Dr. Peterson, the virus needs to be ingested orally. It’s odorless and tasteless, meaning they could place it in any drink served at the U.N. tomorrow night and no one would be the wiser.”
“They’re using a catering company,” Black said.
Blunt pointed at Black. “You got it. I already had a background check run on them, and two of the company’s employees are former private security guards who served in Afghanistan and Iraq.”
“That’s pretty telling,” Hawk said. “Looks like we don’t have to wonder if this is where Obsidian is going to strike.”
“No, Alex’s hunch proved to be dead on, which is one thing that gives me confidence that we can thwart this attack.”
Hawk shifted in his seat, lines creasing on his forehead. “I understand what you’re wanting to do here, but I do have a big logistical question about all this.”
“Shoot,” Blunt said.
“If everyone at the U.N. gets infected tomorrow night, how do you expect the antidote to be administered? Do you think everyone is just going to sit around and wait for a nurse to roll up their sleeve and jam a needle into their arm?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Blunt said.
“And how are you going to get people to do that?” Alex asked.
“I’m working on it,” he said. “Now you three get to New York and get set up. We’ve got a busy thirty-six hours ahead of us.”
CHAPTER 27
BLUNT WAITED PATIENTLY outside the door to the CIA’s secret prison facility. Buried deep underground, the entry point was through what appeared to be the bottom floor of a parking garage. The prison was another fifty feet below it, accessible only through a narrow winding road. Blunt clasped his hands in front of him, anxious to get inside.
“Good to see you again, sir,” the guard said as he flung open the gate. “Here for your weekly game of chess with Yuri?”
Blunt shook his head. He enjoyed sparring with the Russian spy who allegedly took his own life when he jumped from the Empire State building. But today, the visit was of a different nature.
“I need to speak with Talib Al-Asadi,” Blunt said.
The guard shrugged. “That’s different. Looking for a new way to construct a suicide vest?”
Blunt shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not.”
“He is the expert, as you might already know.”
“Why ask anyone else when the best expert in the world is in U.S. custody?” Blunt asked rhetorically. “That’s what I say anyway.”
The gate buzzed and slowly rolled open.
“Good luck in there,” the guard said. “I hear Talib can be a real pain in the ass.”
Talib Al-Asadi’s incarceration came during a mission designed to stop a potential terrorist attack on the Golden Gate Bridge. He conspired with several other Al Hasib agents to blow it up during a celebration event that would’ve killed thousands of innocent Americans. Fortunately, Hawk stopped the potential bombing an apprehended Talib in the process. Instead of killing Talib on the spot, Hawk hoped that the prisoner might surrender some valuable information in captivity to help the U.S. thwart future incidents. But that hadn’t exactly been the case.
For the past three years, Talib remained defiant, unwilling to offer up even a single shred of intelligence that could help the U.S. As a result, Blunt made sure that the CIA guards put the most pressure on Talib by refusing to grant him upgrades for anything. Food, free time, fun activities—it didn’t matter to Talib. He wasn’t willing to say anything to disparage his mates, even when collapse was all but imminent. But Blunt was certain that was about to change.
Two guards escorted Blunt down the long corridor of cell until they finally stopped at the next to last room on the right. One of the guards pressed the button on the side of his radio and asked his colleague in the control room to open the gate. A buzzing sound accompanied the latch springing open, granting access to the cell. The men strode inside and snatched Talib to his feet, forcing him back down the hall to a small interview room. After securing the prisoner to a chair, the guards exited, stopping briefly at the entryway to remind Blunt to signal them when he was finished.
“You are a foolish man,” Talib said with a sneer. He barely glanced up at Blunt, staring off in the distance.
Blunt shrugged. “I’ve been called worse.”
“I don’t know what you hope I will say,” Talib said.
“I don’t want you to say much today. The word yes will be sufficient.”
Talib grunted. “Depends on what the question is.”
“It’s a simple one,” Blunt said. “Will you help me?”
A mocking grin spread across Talib’s face. “Help you do what? Tie your shoes? Comb your hair? Shoot yourself in the
head? I might help you with one of those.”
“Perhaps I was wrong in assuming that you’re the right person for this job,” Blunt said before standing up and heading toward the door.
“You’re always wrong in your assumptions about me.”
Blunt nodded. “You’re right. I thought you might be willing to listen to a proposal I have for you. But you’re not apparently. And I guess you don’t want to see pictures of your family either.”
Talib’s face fell, the snide glare exchanged for a wide-eyed longing. “Maybe we can have a conversation.”
“I don’t need a conversation—I need an answer,” Blunt said. “I have a few photos, even a short video. I’ll let you watch the images for thirty seconds, and then we will have a very serious talk. Understand?”
Talib nodded.
Blunt strode back across to the table and then sat down on the opposite side of Talib. Swiping on the phone’s screen, Blunt called up the slideshow and held it out so Talib could see it. Photos of his family faded in and out. He smiled as he watched one of his son, laughing at what appeared to be a birthday party. But the smile quickly faded as a video captured his family more recently.
“What is this?” Talib demanded as images of his children wearing tattered clothes and dour looks replaced the happier times. An image of his wife appeared where she looked dirty and tired.
“What does it look like to you?” Blunt asked.
“That’s not possible,” Talib said. “They look . . .”
“Poor?” Blunt asked, finishing Talib’s thought.
“But they can’t be. Al Hasib promised to take care of them.”
“I’m sure he did,” Blunt said. “But Karif Fazil doesn’t always follow through on his promises, does he?”
Talib glared at Blunt. “Don’t try to fool me. I know he’s dead.”
“Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t. But that’s irrelevant to our conversation. Karif Fazil failed to deliver on the one promise he made to you—that he would take care of your wife and children if anything ever happened to you. Instead, your family struggles to live in poverty.”
“Why are you showing me this?” Talib asked.
“Because I can change all this if you’re willing to help me.”
Talib threw his head back and exhaled slowly.
“I know this is a tough decision for you,” Blunt said, “but it doesn’t have to be. We can take care of your family, give them a new start with a new home.”
“In the United States?” Talib asked.
“It doesn’t have to be, if you would prefer otherwise. We can relocate them wherever you like with more than enough money for your children to grow with everything they’ll ever need.”
“If I help you, am I going to die?”
Blunt shrugged. “I’m not sure. It depends on how things go. However, I will tell you that I’m a man of my word. Despite your misguided principles, your family doesn’t deserve to live in squalor. I will make sure that your sons grow up knowing what a good man their father was.”
“And what if I don’t?”
“Your children may die anyway in the most devastating terrorist attack this world has ever seen,” Blunt said.
“And you need my help to stop it?”
Blunt nodded. “What do you say? For your family?”
Talib sighed and looked down. “I will help you, but may the wrath of Allah fall upon you if you don’t keep your promise.”
“We might have different ideas about what this world should be like, but I swear on my mother’s grave that I will personally ensure your family has everything they need.”
“Then I guess we are now partners,” Talib said.
Blunt signaled for the guards and hoped that Talib wouldn’t renege on his word.
CHAPTER 28
United Nations
New York, New York
THE NEXT AFTERNOON, the U.N. General Assembly hall filled up to capacity a half hour before United States President Noah Young was scheduled to speak. Hawk sensed the palpable energy in the room, which buzzed with anticipation. While the U.N. held its meetings in New York, several years had passed since the sitting U.S. president had addressed the ambassadors. And given all the unrest in the world, everyone wanted to hear from Young.
The atmosphere was electric and festive in the final session before summer break. While some ambassadors wouldn’t return in the fall as their countries would appoint new representatives to take their places, others anticipated an important message to take back to their leaders about the direction of the world. Regardless of how everyone felt about the role of the United States within the U.N., anything the president said carried tremendous weight. And this time was no different.
Hawk, Alex, and Black had a vigorous debate with Blunt about whether or not they should alert President Young to the impending danger. They all concluded that it wouldn’t be the best move. While Young could keep a secret, he wore his emotions on his sleeve. Blunt was certain that Young would act suspicious one way or another. And what he needed to convey in the meeting was strength.
The Phoenix Foundation’s three agents entered the general assembly under the guise of security. Blunt finagled uniforms and security posts for all three of them after having a frank conversation with the head of U.N. security about a potential threat and urging him to let the team take charge should anything happen.
Alex initially hung back in the security room, watching monitors and observing movements in the lobby and the floor of the main hall. Hawk and Black patrolled the lobby, searching for the suspicious catering company serving the ambassadors. Neither task was all that exciting, but the main purpose was to watch out for a potential change in the way the caterers were serving people. Every drink had the potential to carry the virus—and Hawk and company decided to act as if that was the case.
A bell sounded, signaling for everyone to head to the main hall to hear the next speaker. Most everyone complied, much to Hawk’s relief. The last thing he wanted to do was make a scene with some representative who was vying to sneak out early.
When President Young took the podium, he appeared confident and in command from Hawk’s perspective. As many times as Hawk had seen Young speak over the years, it was one of the best speeches he had ever given.
“In the face of our changing world, now is not the time to shrink away from all the many challenges facing us,” Young said. “Instead, it is time to stand up and face them all head on. We must be bold and courageous, staring down the terrorists who would prefer that we cower at their mere presence. If we want to create a world that’s inviting to all with equal opportunities abounding, we can’t abdicate our positions or yield them for a comfortable lifestyle. This is the time we make a stand for what we believe is right in this world, not kneel before the thugs who would prefer to keep us hiding in fear.”
The assembly rose to its feet, giving Young a rousing applause. Hawk knew the message meant different things to different people, but it ultimately served as a clarion call to work together. The plea for unity was evident to even the casual bystander, though Hawk wondered how many would heed it.
Once the meeting was convened, everyone began to mill around in the lobby for hors d’ouevres and drinks. A string quartet played classical pieces in one corner of the room while ambassadors chatted with each other. By the time most people had filtered out of the main hall, Hawk heard the message on his coms.
Hawk hustled over to President Young’s team, which was slowly working its way through the crowd toward a back exit.
“Mr. President,” Hawk said, getting Young’s attention.
“What are you doing here?” Young asked as he furrowed his brow.
“There’s a threat—and I need you to trust me right now,” Hawk said. “Down the hall on the right, there’s a room set up to administer an antidote to you and everyone with you. It’s a must that everyone complies or else they could die.”
“What are you talking about?” Young said. “I wasn
’t informed of any threat by my security detail.”
“I know,” Hawk said. “We’ll explain later, but it’s imperative that you comply or else everyone could die and thousands more will be infected.”
Young sighed. “We’re going to have a long talk about this later.”
“Absolutely, sir,” Hawk said. “Now if you’ll please come with me.”
Hawk led Young, his aides, and the Secret Service agents to the small room set up where a group of doctors and nurses waited. Once the last person received a shot, they were dismissed but told that another team waiting at Air Force One would be there make sure that they were no longer an endangerment to the public.
“Young and company are clear,” Hawk said into his coms.
“Then it’s time,” Blunt said.
Hawk and Black secured all the doors leading to the outside, except for one. While it remained unlocked, Hawk stood next to it, awaiting the arrival of one person in particular.
“The doors are secured,” Hawk said. “Alex, it’s time for you to join us.”
“Roger that,” she said.
“Looks like everything is ready,” Blunt said. “So I’m sending him in.”
Blunt had barely finished getting the words out of his mouth when the fire alarm sounded.
“What’s going on?” Blunt asked.
“Someone pulled the fire alarm,” Hawk said.
“It’s a hoax,” Blunt said. “They’re trying to scatter everyone. Do whatever you need to do to keep everyone inside. He’s on his way.”
Hawk stepped forward and raised his hands. “Please remain calm. There’s nothing to worry about. It’s just a malfunction. There’s no fire.”
He was so focused on easing the tension in the room that he didn’t see the door open behind him.
“That’s right,” a man roared above the ringing. “Don’t any of you go anywhere.”
Hawk spun around to see a Middle Eastern man holding open his coat to display the bomb strapped to him.
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