Blunt glared at her. “So, this is how you do it? Exploit everyone’s relationships and force them to do your bidding?”
She shrugged. “Sometimes you can’t ignore a proven method, no matter how barbaric it might seem at the time.”
“I get it,” he said. “Results matter.”
“And that’s precisely why we chose to work with you for this particular project,” she said. “All our past intelligence reports have shown that you have the president’s ear—and that he listens to you.”
“I’m not sure what this is all about, but I can assure you that I’m only an advisor to the president. He pretty much does whatever he very well pleases. If you think I’m going to whisper in his ear and steer him to do what you desire, I’m afraid you’re making a grave mistake.”
“How so?”
“President Young doesn’t like anyone to tell him what to do,” Blunt said. “He’s very much a maverick in that respect.”
“In that case, we expect you to be a good Texas rancher and corral him.”
“And how am I supposed to do that?”
“It’s simple, really,” she said. “All we want you to do is get someone on the guest list for the First Lady’s funeral later this week. We understand from media reports that she won’t be lying in state due to her disfigured nature suffered in the explosion.”
Elizabeth smiled slyly before closing her eyes. When she opened them again, Blunt had narrowed his and pursed his lips.
“This was a complete set up, wasn’t it?” he asked.
“I’m not sure what you’re suggesting, Mr. Blunt, but I do know that my employer demands that you acquiesce to the terms of this arrangement or else face severe consequences, dare I say, fatal consequences.”
“And just who is this person?”
“I’m not at liberty to reveal that to you,” she said. “All I’m asking is that you deliver this envelope to President Young. It will also be up to you to persuade him to comply with the request.”
“Do I even need to run this past him?” Blunt asked.
“That’s up to you, but I’d advise you to select the path of least resistance,” she said. “In my experience, I’ve discovered that things always work better that way.”
She handed him an envelope. “Don’t open it. Just give that to the appropriate people and let them finish the task for you. Your niece will be most grateful that you did.”
“You know I’m going to find out who’s behind this,” Blunt said.
“I'm sure you will, but I’d caution you against reacting in a rash manner,” she said, wagging her finger. “Sometimes when we jump to conclusions, we make grave mistakes.”
“Are you threatening me?”
Elizabeth chuckled and waved dismissively at Blunt. “Dear one, you’re already being threatened. We know how much you adore your niece, which is why you’ll do exactly as we say. Now run along.”
“Run along?”
“Yes, there’s a car waiting for you outside to take you back to the same place we picked you up.”
Blunt looked down at the envelope and then back at Elizabeth. “Someone is going to pay for this.”
“Your niece will be the one paying the price if you don’t pass that envelope along to the right person and secure my employer a spot at the First Lady’s funeral. Is that understood?”
Blunt didn’t say a word, responding only with a grunt. He climbed out of the vehicle and found a taxi waiting for him. He opened the door and watched as the two other limos returned before all leaving together in a caravan.
Blunt cursed under his breath before getting into the cab and slamming the door shut.
“I’ve been instructed to take you to the corner of Constitution and 7th,” the driver said as he looked in the rearview mirror at Blunt. “Is that correct?”
Blunt nodded. He eased back in his seat and buckled himself in. Then he slid his finger beneath the flap of the envelope, breaking the seal. If he was going to be blackmailed, he wanted to who was victimizing him.
When he saw the name on the paper, he stared stoically at it. He wasn’t surprised at all.
That’s who I knew was behind this.
He sighed and then read the name aloud with a hint of disgust: “Falcon Sinclair.”
CHAPTER 3
Washington, D.C.
WHEN HAWK AND ALEX returned to The Phoenix Foundation headquarters, they found Blunt gnawing on a cigar and pacing around his office. His gaze was affixed on a document in his hands, lines creasing his forehead.
“Reading the latest stock market report?” Hawk asked.
Blunt looked up over his reading glasses and sneered. “Don’t get me started about my IRA. But it’s nothing compared to this.”
“Latest Homeland Security briefing?” Alex asked.
“A scathing rebuke of the intelligence community for allowing the attack on the White House,” Blunt said as he gestured for Hawk and Alex to sit in the two chairs across from his desk.
“When both the White House and the FBI has been infiltrated by multiple assets, it’s difficult to avoid an attack like this,” she said.
Blunt nodded as he sank into his chair and flung down his papers. “That doesn’t mean somebody’s head isn’t going to roll over this. But there’s nothing we can do about what’s happened. The question for us is how are we going to stop this from happening again?”
“We’re working on it,” Hawk said.
Blunt sighed. “What happened at the Cocos?”
“Sorry about Tyler Timmons, sir,” Alex said. “We know that he was more than just someone who worked for you.”
“Thanks,” Blunt said. “I appreciate that. His father and I were friends for years. I was the one that steered Timmons into this line of work, and I can’t help but shoulder some of the responsibility for his death.”
Hawk leaned forward in his seat. “No, sir. Don’t go there. This wasn’t your fault. Timmons wanted out, and he reached out to you. If we would’ve just had more time—”
The silence that hung in the room after Blunt trailed
