“Why is Interpol involved all of a sudden?” Hawk asked.
“I don’t know, but that just made our job much more difficult,” Sterling said.
* * *
UPON REGROUPING at Sterling’s flat, they discussed their next move.
“I think we need to split up,” Hawk said. “You already have your own problems. If you get caught with us, that will only complicate the situation.”
Sterling nodded. “It seems to be the more prudent decision.”
“We need to reconnect with our team and form a game plan,” Alex said. “The only way we’re ever going to get our lives back is if we can prove we were set up.”
“Can’t very well do that sitting in a cell somewhere,” Sterling said.
“You’re right,” Hawk said, looking at Alex. “All our agents are in danger. And once they catch us, we’ll be silenced forever.”
“We all share the same mission objective,” Sterling said. “Why don’t I track Sinclair to make sure he’s not going underground? And in the meantime, I’ll search for connections between him and other powerful global leaders.”
“Sounds like we have a plan,” Hawk said. “We’ll be in touch once our team is reunited and let you know what we’re doing so we can keep working together.”
“Brilliant,” Sterling said. “And where will you go next?”
“I think I know just the place,” Hawk said.
CHAPTER 21
Copenhagen, Denmark
THE SOUND OF THE gunshot made Mia flinch. She’d never been shot before, but she braced for the searing pain that she imagined accompanied getting a hole in your body. However, all she felt was a dead body toppling onto her back.
She tried to steady her breathing as she shoved off her would-be killer and rolled into a prone position. Mia removed her blindfold and worked to free herself of the bindings beneath the dark sky lit by a full moon. After spotting a knife on the dead man, she belly crawled over to him and took it. Based on the result of the incoming fire, she hoped it was friendly, but she couldn’t be sure. Any associate of Shadow Lancer was sure to have plenty of enemies, and she didn’t want to risk becoming collateral damage.
After cutting herself loose, Mia scanned the area for her captor’s gun that had fallen out of his hand. She picked up the weapon and studied it for a moment. Despite her inexperience with guns, she figured she could point and shoot if necessary.
“You know how to use that thing,” a man said.
She rolled over and looked in the direction of the strangely familiar voice, her gun trained in front of her. “Agent Black,” she said. “I could’ve shot you.”
“Not with the safety on like that,” he said with a chuckle as he offered her his hand. He pulled her upright before she dusted herself off.
“How did you find me?” she asked.
“When Blunt warned us about what was happening, he told us that you were in Denmark,” Black said. “And then Agent Shields knew what she was looking for and was able to find your location based off the cyber-attacks you brought against the CIA.”
“Wait a minute,” she said. “What’s happening?”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t know since Blunt feared alerting you might be more harmful than good considering what you were here to do,” Black said.
He explained how Blunt had been arrested and the rest of the world’s intelligence agencies had been put on alert that the rest of the Phoenix Foundation team needed to be detained.
“So, your own government outed us?” she asked.
“More or less. And we’ve got to get to safety to figure out how to proceed.”
Mia broke into heaving sobs as she sought solace in Black’s arms. He enveloped her with a hug while she cried for a moment. However, he heard approaching footsteps and turned to see a silhouette of another familiar person.
“We’ve got to get moving,” Christina Shields said. “It won’t be long before someone comes out here looking for the source of all this raucous.”
“She’s right,” Black said as he looked down at Mia. “You can have a good cry later.”
“Any idea who these people are?” Shields asked.
Mia shook her head. “I tried to get him to tell me, but he wasn’t interested, even right before he was about to shoot me.”
Shields knelt over the dead man and took a picture of his face. “It’s not like the movies where everybody confesses everything before they shoot you. But we’ll run this guy’s picture through facial recognition and see if we can come up with a match.”
“So, did you find anything?” Black asked.
“Did I ever,” Mia said. “I’ll tell you all about it when we get back to your car.”
The trio walked a short distance through the woods until they reached Black’s vehicle. Once they were all inside, he pushed the ignition button, firing up the engine.
“Start talking,” Shields said.
Mia took a deep breath, leaning back in her seat as she collected her thoughts. “Once I broke into the CIA database, I was able to glean quite a bit of information on the history of the photos of Tahir Nazari. For starters, we don’t have much on him. He’s a relative newcomer by all standards and has remained out of the public eye. He’s only produced one video and was captured once in public. That’s it. That amounts to the entirety of the world’s collective intelligence community on photographs of Nazari.”
“So, what’s in Nazari’s file now?” Shields asked.
“The correct photos,” Mia said. “But I was able to find a log that kept records of previous image uploads.”
“And?” Black asked.
“I discovered that a week before the assignment was given to us, someone swapped out Nazari’s picture for Omar Ebadi and then changed it back minutes after the strike.”
“Do we know who?” Shields asked.
“I can almost guarantee you it’s not the person whose signature I found on the logs,” Mia said.
“How do you figure that?” Black asked.
“I can’t imagine that Noah Young’s own Secretary of Defense, Doug Quinn, is capable of such back-end wizardry,” Mia said. “For starters, the changes were made remotely, which means this didn’t happen within the confines of his office. Not to mention, the information wasn’t completely erased. It was just hidden, buried deep inside the system.”
Black made eye contact with her through the rearview mirror. “Why wouldn’t you remove it all together?”
“Good question. In short, the field requiring an access code to make any changes to the system’s structure couldn’t be eliminated without alerting the cyber security team that the CIA’s system was breached.”
“And whoever was behind this obviously didn’t want that,” Shields said.
“So, Quinn is responsible?” Black asked.
Mia shrugged. “In a roundabout way. Like I said, I don’t think Quinn did this, but at the bare minimum he gave someone his code or was careless enough with it to allow it to be stolen. I can’t be certain which one it is, but that’s the most likely explanation.”
As Black sped along, Shields pulled out her laptop and started typing.
“What are you doing?” Mia asked.
“A quick little financial search on our good friend Mr. Quinn.”
Mia leaned forward in her seat, craning her neck to see Shields’s screen. “How did you—”
“It’d take you a while to hack into these, wouldn’t it?” Shields said with a grin.
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s a little government perk,” Shields said before drawing back.
“What is it?” Mia asked.
“Hmm. Now I bet Quinn thought he’d be able to get away with this before he had to disclose this in his taxes, but apparently he was involved in a small real estate transaction recently.”
Mia squinted as she stared at the screen. “Wow. That is small. I thought you were being sarcastic.”
“I am,” Shields said. “Let’s take a gander a
t this property’s true value.”
A few clicks on the keyboard and a new page popped up with the address listed on the deal with Quinn.
“Would you look at that,” Mia said. “He bought that place for ten grand with a loan, but it’s worth over four-point-two million.”
“A little fixer-upper in the Caymans,” Shields said. “Quinn would’ve refinanced after taking out a sizable chunk for a home equity loan, re-sold the house for a pretty penny, and washed that money away without it showing up as a red flag on any documents he had to file at the end of the year with the oversight committee.”
“So, that’s how the filthy rich do it,” Mia said, shaking her head.
“But the real question is who runs Caldera Holdings?” Shields asked. “Because that’s who sold Quinn the house. Once we find that out, we’ll know who we’re dealing with.”
“Give me the laptop,” Mia said. “I have an idea.”
In a matter of minutes, Mia discovered that Caldera Holdings was nothing more than a shell company, tied to two other shell companies. Eventually, she found both of those companies were tied to one other obscure name.
“Drisi Enterprises,” Mia said, furrowing her brow as she stared at the screen.
“Does that name mean anything to you?” Black asked.
She slowly shook her head and repeated the name. “Drisi Enterprises. I’m drawing a blank. Is that a man’s name.”
“Yes,” Black said. “It’s owned by a man named Lance Drisi.”
“Hmmm. I’ve got an idea. Give me a second.” Mia’s fingers tapped on the keyboard. After she stopped, she took in a long breath before exhaling slowly.
“What is it, Mia?” Shields asked.
“I know who Lance Drisi is,” Mia said. “It’s an anagram.”
“For who?” Black asked.
“None other than Falcon Sinclair.”
“Falcon?”
“That’s not his given name,” she said. “The name on his birth certificate isn’t nearly that sophisticated. His name is Ed Sinclair.”
Black looked at Shields. “Call Hawk. We need to meet up at once.”
CHAPTER 22
Undisclosed location
BLUNT GROANED AS LIGHT flooded the top of his new cell. Instead of being held in an open facility, his new room was still dark but even more secure. Aside from a few ventilation portals near the top of the twelve-foot ceiling, the space contained no accessible exit or entry points. And he was far too familiar with the type of facility he was in, as he’d put his share of suspected terrorists into these high-security prisons.
An engine hummed as the floor began to ascend toward the portal in the ceiling. A guard with a headlamp dropped down on a ladder and beckoned for Blunt.
“What’s this all about?” Blunt asked, shielding his eyes from the bright beam.
“You have a visitor,” the man said. “Come here so I can escort you to an interview room.”
“If it’s all the same, I’d rather just stay here. Nobody knows where I am, and I’d prefer not to speak to anyone.”
The guard grunted. “This isn’t a request.”
Blunt sighed and shuffled across the room to the guard. He secured Blunt’s hands behind his back and then fastened him to the ladder.
“Bring him up,” the guards said.
Blunt slowly rose as a mechanism drew up the ladder. Atop the room, three armed guards attended to Blunt before ushering him down a hallway. They led him into the interview room and affixed his handcuffs to the table and his feet to the legs in the chair.
“Don’t get any bright ideas,” one of the guards said. “We’ll be right outside that door and happy to come in and crack your skull if you get out of line. Are we clear?”
Blunt shrugged. “I guess you’ll find out.”
One of the other guards chuckled. “I like roughing up the smart asses the most.”
“Then you just might be in for a fun day of work,” Blunt said with a sneer.
“Two hits, old man,” the guard replied. “I hit you. You hit the floor.”
Blunt raised his eyebrows. “I’d really like to test out your theory.”
“And I’d let you if you weren’t about to be interviewed.”
“Excuses, excuses,” Blunt said.
The man made a quick move, dipping his shoulder toward Blunt. But the Phoenix Foundation director didn’t even blink.
“It’ll take a lot more than that to get me to flinch,” Blunt said with a chuckle. “I hope your bite is as good as your bark.”
The man scowled at Blunt before exiting the room. The door closed with a thud, echoing off the stark cinderblock walls. He’d been in rooms like these a hundred times before, but never on the accused’s side of the table. As he waited, he could only imagine who might take up a seat across from him.
Blunt closed his eyes and looked up, enjoying the brief moment of life. The psychology of keeping someone in the dark was powerful. Government interrogation research had long since found that sensory deprivation produced enhanced cooperation during questioning. While the psychological effects were harsh, they were short-lived, enabling U.S. military and the intelligence community to utilize such means to get information guilt-free.
But Blunt wouldn’t break easily.
He drummed his fingers on the table and could only hope that his team had found refuge. As for himself, Blunt knew that this was likely the end of everything. He’d served his country honorably, both in the U.S. Senate and in intelligence. Though Young was trying to throw Blunt under the bus, he would spend the rest of his days in prison proud of what he’d done, all while understanding that none of it may have mattered in the end. Greed was always going to be the ruin the country, that much he’d witnessed first-hand while serving in Congress. And now Blunt was about to succumb to it, becoming the fall guy for an operation that was pre-ordained to go wrong.
It was a helluva ride.
Blunt smiled as he thought about his recruitment of Brady Hawk, a young man who’d almost become like a son.
If only I could get him to drink bourbon every once in a while.
And then there was Alex, who was equally as talented as her counterpart. The fact that the two agents had fallen in love didn’t surprise Blunt. He half expected it, if he was honest. As the minutes trickled by, he reminisced about every agent he’d led while at Firestorm and then the Phoenix Foundation. Titus Black, Christina Shields, Helenos-9, better known as Mia. They were all like his children, and he was proud of every one of them. All he cared about was keeping them safe. They didn’t deserve any trumped-up charges that would be levied against them by the people who’d infiltrated the U.S. government and corrupted it beyond recognition. And he’d do whatever it took to keep them far away.
When the door swung open, Blunt’s eyebrows shot upward as he recognized the man who strode inside.
“I certainly didn’t expect to see you here,” Blunt said.
President Young slammed the door behind him before taking up the seat across from Blunt. “Extraordinary circumstances require extraordinary measures, Mr. Blunt.”
Blunt furrowed his brow. “So, that’s how this is gonna go? I’m Mr. Blunt to you now? You can try to dehumanize me all you want, or just pretend like we never had a relationship, or act like it wasn’t me and my team who saved your daughter’s life this summer. But deep down, you can’t escape the truth. It will haunt you in your dreams, stalking you like a wild beast hunts its prey. You’ll never get away from it.”
“I’m not interested in any of your bullshit right now.”
“Bullshit? Is that what you think this is? Everything I’m saying is the straight truth. You just don’t want to hear it.”
“Enough,” Young said as he slammed his fist on the table. “I don’t have time for this.”
“Apparently you do because here you are, the leader of the free world, talking to me, Mr. Blunt, in some black ops prison site. It’s almost like we’re at a G5 Summit.”
&nb
sp; Young didn’t react. “Where’s your team?”
“Hell if I know. You’re the one with unlimited resources and connections all over the world. Meanwhile, for the past couple of days I’ve been bounced around from one cell to another, deprived of my due process. So, pardon me if I don’t know where my team is.”
Young fished a cell phone out of his pocket and placed it in the center of the table.
“What’s this?” Blunt asked. “You’re finally going to let me call my lawyer?”
“Haven’t you already heard that your lawyer is dead?”
“I might know another one. I’ve been in Washington for a few years.”
Young sighed. “You’re going to make one call, but it won’t be to any lawyers.”
Blunt leaned forward. “You think I’m going to do you any favors? You’ve got quite some nerve.”
“If you don’t pick up that phone, call Brady Hawk, and arrange a meeting, your precious niece’s whereabouts will be leaked to nefarious agents.”
Blunt narrowed his eyes. “You sonofabitch. You better be glad I’m chained down or I’d kill you with my bare hands.”
“I’d love to see you try,” Young said, “as would those guards out there who love to hand out beatings. Now, put away all your bravado and make the call.”
Young eased the phone into Blunt’s hands. “I swear you’re gonna pay for this.”
“Swear away,” Young said. “Just make the call.”
Blunt took the phone and flung it onto the floor as forcefully as he could with his hands bound. “My niece can take care of herself.”
“I doubt she’ll be able to handle what’s coming for her.”
“Go to hell, Mr. President.”
Young retrieved the phone and replaced it in the middle of the table. “You have twenty-four hours to make that call. After that, I won’t provide any more protection for Madeline. Do you understand?”
Blunt didn’t move. The gears in his mind whirred as he tried to figure a way out of the situation Young had put him in.
“You’re going to regret this moment,” Blunt said.
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