“Sounds all well and good, but you’re forgetting one thing.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“The evidence.”
Petrov shrugged. “Evidence has a strange way of disappearing sometimes.”
One of Michaels’s aides returned to the room.
“Don’t forget what I said,” Petrov said in a whisper. “Your future depends on it."
CHAPTER 37
HAWK AND ALEX AWOKE on rickety double beds across the room from each other. Moaning and grabbing his head, Hawk rolled over and tried to stand. He staggered for a moment before he gained his balance.
“What was that all about?” he asked.
Alex’s eyes were closed as she remained on the bed. “I don’t know, but I’m beginning to wonder if the vice president actually cares about us.”
“You’re just now beginning to wonder that? I think that’s quite evident at this point.”
“Don’t be too quick to judge, Hawk.”
“I live by Blunt’s golden rule: Never trust anyone. It’s served me well so far.”
Alex opened her eyes, squinting at the light. “And look where that’s gotten you.”
“You’re actually proving my point, you know? There are still a few patriots left in this country, you said. You convinced me to trust the VP . . . and here we are.”
“Just give him a chance to explain. At least we’re not in a jail cell yet.”
“Yet,” Hawk grumbled.
“What is this place anyway?” she asked as she climbed out of bed and inspected the room.
“I’ll take a wag at it. I’ll say it’s an FBI safe house.”
“Why would he have us taken here?”
“I don’t know. You’re the expert in trusting people. I’m sure you can come up with a positive spin for this whole adventure.”
Alex moved toward Hawk and playfully punched him in the stomach. “Will you just stop with all your cynicism?” Then she grabbed him and kissed him.
The door flung open, and a man wearing a suit poked his head in the door. “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I interrupting something?”
Hawk shook his head. “Not now. But do you mind telling us where we are and what we’re doing here?”
“You’re under the protection of the Secret Service, ordered by Vice President Noah Young,” the agent said.
Hawk stared at the man. “You look familiar. Were you in the box last night at the Nationals game, a game which I didn’t get to see any of thanks to you and your friends?”
The agent flashed a big grin. “I was there. Cameron, the agent in the other room, and I injected you with a little cocktail designed to render you unconscious. Sorry about that. Feels like a mild hangover when you wake up.”
“What are you going to do with us?” Alex asked.
“Keep you safe until we get further orders,” the agent said before leaning forward and offering his hand. “Name’s Mack, by the way.”
Mack shook Hawk’s and Alex’s hands before exiting the room and closing the door.
A smile spread across Alex’s face. “See, I told you. He’s here to protect us. I always wanted my own body guards.”
“We definitely need them since we’ve exposed the president.”
Another knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Mack didn’t wait for a response before opening the door.
“Yes?” Hawk asked.
“Vice President Young is here to see you.”
Hawk and Alex left their room and followed Mack into the main living area. The decor was simple and clean, yet it appeared cobbled together from a Goodwill shopping spree. Nothing matched, and Hawk noted how everything seemed to creak or squeak, especially the floor.
Young sprang to his feet when they entered the room.
“I want to apologize about last night,” Young said, offering his hand. “It was really the only way. I didn’t have time to explain everything, and it’s much easier to transport unconscious people.” He held up his hand. “I know, I know. It sounds crazy, but you’re just going to have to trust me on this one.”
Hawk shook Young’s hand. “You’ll have to pardon me if I don’t race to extend you my trust. I’m in short supply of it these days.”
“I understand, but I want to talk with you about some recent developments that happened overnight and see if we might be able to help each other.”
Hawk and Alex sat down opposite of the vice president.
“We’re listening,” she said.
“This morning, President Michaels announced that he was temporarily yielding his duties to me in an effort to give the DOJ room to conduct its investigation without interference from the Executive Office,” Young began. “This afternoon, I’ll be taking command, but I was wondering if you could help me with some issues that the CIA and FBI can’t.”
“Go on,” Hawk said.
“I know your focus has been on Karif Fazil and Al Hasib’s operations across the globe, but with him out of the picture, I think we all know that there are some other nefarious groups that need to be dealt with and dealt with severely.”
Hawk took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “I’d be interested in talking about this, but only if J.D. Blunt is back in the picture.”
“And you?” Young said as he turned toward Alex.
“I feel the same way.”
“So, you want to resurrect Firestorm?” Young asked.
“It never died,” Hawk said. “We just had to hide from our own government, which decided to finger us as traitors. All we’ve ever done is eliminate terrorists and foil their deadly plots.”
Young clasped his hands together. “I can get behind that.”
“So, you can help us with Blunt? Because the last we heard, a guy named John Earhardt in the Special Activities Division at the CIA was holding Blunt against his will.”
“I think I know where you can find him.”
CHAPTER 38
Little Island
Washington, D.C.
J.D. BLUNT BLEW the water off his face and gasped for air. The sensation of drowning gave him serious pause as to whether resistance was the best course
