“Good because you need to get some rest,” Blunt said. “I’ve got another pressing assignment for you.”
“Unless it involves Katarina Petrov—” Hawk began.
“It does,” Blunt snapped. “We have some credible intel that she’s flying a number of The Chamber board members to a private retreat out of Paris in a couple days.”
“And what do you want us to do about it?”
“I want you to shoot the plane down, pin it on Al Hasib,” Blunt said. “I’ve got all the details worked out.”
“And we’re the only ones who can do this?” Samuels asked.
“Blowing up a plane on takeoff is hardly an operation we want to have run by agents who can be traced back to the U.S.,” Blunt said. “You three, on the other hand, are—”
“Expendable?” Hawk said, finishing Blunt’s comment.
Blunt sighed. “I was going to say our best trained covert force located overseas.”
“Toe-may-toe, tah-mah-toe,” Hawk said. “We know how this works by now.”
“As long as you’re on board and get the job done, I don’t care what you think,” Blunt said. “I just want Katarina Petrov dealt with once and for all.”
Hawk glanced at Alex. “You okay with that?” he whispered.
She nodded. “It’s for the best.”
Hawk looked back at the phone. “We do have some good news for you, too.”
“I could use some.”
“We rescued Lee Hendridge, The New York Times’s journalist Al Hasib recently snatched. He’s here with us.”
“How did you manage that?”
“Long story,” Samuels said. “It involved a bit of luck.”
“I’ll take it—and I’ll send a plane to bring him home first thing in the morning. Sound good?”
Hendridge broke into a wide grin. “Sounds fantastic.”
Hawk ended the call and stared sternly at Hendridge. “Not a word about this to anyone. You should’ve never been let in on that conversation, but I’ll deny any of it being true if you ever report about it.”
“I’m just happy to be alive,” Hendridge said.
“Good. As long as we’re all on the same page about this,” Hawk said. “Now, let’s get some rest. Sounds like Blunt intends to work us until we drop while we’re fugitives.”
CHAPTER 20
Washington, D.C.
CONRAD MICHAELS TOOK ANOTHER SIP of his water and shifted in his seat. He straightened his tie and leaned forward in his seat. Tugging the microphone closer, Michaels cleared his throat before he spoke.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Michaels said. “Can you please repeat the question?”
Greg Yedlin, a senator from California, furrowed his brow and stared at Michaels. “I asked if you would address the recent allegations against you that you evaded taxes. And I’d really like a response.”
Michaels exhaled and stared off pensively. “I have addressed them. I told you and the rest of the media that they were false, completely fabricated.”
“Yet the evidence suggests otherwise.”
“I fail to see what this has to do with the issue at hand,” Michaels said. “Senator, I hope you’re not simply grandstanding in an effort to gain notoriety and subsequently political clout—because I can assure you that your little plan is backfiring.”
“Pardon me, sir,” Yedlin said. “I wasn’t trying to do any of those things. I was simply trying to do my job before you did what you always do. Demean, belittle, disparage—and then you go to great lengths to tell us how smart you are and how we must go along with your little plan no matter what. That’s not the kind of leadership we need in this country.”
Michaels’s eyes narrowed. “And it has nothing to do with the trumped up charges you and your little band of miscreants are investigating, the kind of charges that not even a grand jury would consider. I’m still offended and appalled that you believe I would put my own people in harm’s way. I would never do any such thing. Those operatives out there working hard to put an end to terrorists know that is the most ridiculous allegation levied against me. It reveals what the true nature of these hearings are: to get things out in the open so you can rip me down and ride that wave of public sentiment toward regaining power in the senate. You’re simply too transparent, Senator Yedlin.”
Yedlin adjusted his glasses and stared down at his papers, studying them for a moment before responding.
“I wish we were only under the guise of partisan politics,” Yedlin began, “but I’m afraid that just isn’t true. We’re here because of your gross abuse of power. There are incredible responsibilities required to live in a democratic republic, the least of which is to uphold public trust. And the fact that we’ve all heard the dramatic tape of you suggesting you were willing to put the men and women who serve this great country in harm’s way as a political ploy is beyond revolting. As someone who proudly served in the military—unlike yourself, I might add—I never once questioned whether anything other than the country’s best interests were at heart when we received our marching orders. I never once wondered if the only reason I was going somewhere was to prop up a politician’s favorability ratings. But I’m saddened by the fact that those serving this great country today will now wonder such things.”
Michaels took another sip of water and pointed at Yedlin. “Senator, don’t be reckless. I think we both know you’re just trying to score points with your political base, maybe even bait me into giving you a sound bite that your Super PACs can use in their attack ads when the election cycle begins in earnest. Well, I won’t do it. All I will say is that I serve at the pleasure of the American people. I serve them with fervency and diligence. I serve them because I love this country and want to see it kept safe. I serve them because Washington has suffered long enough under the bloated bureaucracy longtime senators such as yourself have created. You and your ilk have been in this city for two or three decades
