While Young remained confident that Michaels couldn’t legally do anything to him, the president would certainly attempt to freeze Young out and neuter him at best, vengefully destroy his allies at worst. Young prepared for the worst.
Blunt had been a longtime confidante of Young, dating back to their time together at Princeton. Neither of them ever expected to be where they were in terms of power and influence, but it wasn’t a shock to anyone who knew both men. They were cut from the same cloth—driven, determined, dedicated. Most importantly, they were fiercely loyal, both to each other and their country. And during the time since Michaels’s return to power, both expressed fear for the other.
After several checkpoints, Blunt cleared security and arrived at the main lodge. When he pulled up, Young was waiting outside.
“It’s good to see you,” Young said as he shook Blunt’s hand. The exchange quickly turned into a hearty hug.
“You too,” Blunt said, glancing around at the Marines on duty. “Let’s get inside somewhere so we can talk.”
Young led Blunt to a great room overlooking the grounds. The trees were green and full, swaying gently in the early morning summer breeze. Squirrels scurried back and forth between towering oaks. Birds chirped a constant calm refrain. For Blunt, the nature scene stood in stark contrast to the roiling storm brewing in Michaels’s wake just sixty miles south of them.
“I didn’t know if you’d be able to make it with the way things have been lately,” Young said.
“I’ll drop anything to help you,” Blunt said. “You know that.”
“Your team needs you,” Young said. “And they need you because I asked them to take on an assignment.”
“That’s what Firestorm is all about. Hawk, Alex, Samuels—none of them would accept your apology even if you gave them one.”
Young shrugged. “That might be how you feel, but I still feel the weight of each decision.”
“That burden has been lifted now.”
Young cast a sideways glance at Blunt. “I’m not happy about it. He’s coming for me, J.D.”
“He’s coming for all of us.”
“In the meantime, I want to know how I can help your team. They’re in a tough spot.”
“You can’t,” Blunt said. “Nobody can. We’re all stuck here. Hawk knew they would be on their own yet took the assignment anyway.”
Young paced around the room. “Aren’t there any favors you can call in with the French?”
“It’s not the French who hold the power here. It’s Interpol. And I don’t exactly have many friends over there.”
Young’s eyebrows shot upward. “Oh?”
Blunt waved him off. “It’s a long story and not one I want to get into right now. It’s involves lots of cheap booze, women, and some serious indiscretions while in Berlin once.”
“Say no more,” Young said. “Look, I only want to help. You insist that this is their job, but I can’t help but think how I’m responsible. If I hadn’t sent them . . .”
“It was only a matter of time before they got caught, either stateside or there.”
“At least they would’ve had a fighting chance here.”
Blunt sighed and shook his head. “What they really need is for someone to exonerate them.” He took out a cigar and started gnawing on it.
“Still chewing on those things?” Young asked.
“Only when I’m nervous—or not.”
Young chuckled. “So, how are we going to clear their names? We know Petrov set them up with those German bankers.”
“They met with a guy I know who specializes in those things, but I’m not sure if they got anywhere with him. We haven’t exactly had hours to debrief, if we’ve had any contact at all.”
A knock at the door interrupted their conversation.
“Pardon the interruption, sir,” a Marine said as he stepped inside the room. “The president is on line one for you.”
Young ambled over to the desk in the corner of the room and picked up the receiver before pressing 1 on the console and putting the call on speaker.
“Good morning, Mr. President,” Young said.
“I bet you never thought you’d say that to me again, did you, you little rat?” Michaels said. “I just wanted to warn you that I’m coming for you. I’m going to make you a lame duck vice president if there ever was one. You’re going to wish you never joined me on the ticket.”
“Too late for that,” Young said.
“Your little secret agent friends are getting exactly what they deserve—and you will too soon enough.”
Young’s eyes widened as he looked at Blunt, who reassured his friend with a gesture that shrugged off the threat. Before Young could respond, the line went dead.
“Damn it,” Young said. “We’re screwed.”
Blunt took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I wouldn’t count Hawk out yet, but you, on the other hand, have an uphill battle to fight. You’re the one who’s going to need more help than anyone as you butt heads with the most powerful man in the world.”
“You really think you can help me?” Young asked.
“Sure,” Blunt said.
No harm in telling a lie.
CHAPTER 35
New York City
LEE HENDRIDGE TAPPED HIS PENCIL against the arm of the chair while waiting for Janet Carlisle to finish reading his piece. Only two days before, Hendridge received a video showing how someone made the German bankers from the Stuttgart Massacre appear to look like certain powerful leaders with ties to The Chamber, a secret organization that national security officials labeled as terroristic in nature. Most of Hendridge’s report was working off deep background and an unlikely casual interview of the trio accused of the crime.
Carlisle remained resistant to the story idea but eventually caved. When Hendridge showed her the video along with two corroborating video forensic experts verifying the authenticity of the images, she considered it. Yet Hendridge’s threat to quit and take his story to The Daily News persuaded her
