“We need to know now. You can’t leave us in the dark for that long.”
“Do you want my help or not? I’m not inclined to tell you just so your agents can screw up the whole situation.”
“Fine. Text me when you get there. I’ll have a team standing by to help.”
Hawk hung up and sped toward the location he suspected Petrov would be holding Michaels at.
* * *
AN HOUR LATER, Hawk slowed down and eased to a stop along a two-lane road. Outside of the metropolis, rolling hills and old farmland made for quiet retreats for the wealthy. Blunt had once told Hawk about Petrov’s old home beyond the suburbs and how she refused to sell it, renting it out through a shell corporation. Hawk learned Blunt had visited the home once when Petrov was still married and engaged in her parenting duties with Alex. Hawk concluded that if he were in a similar situation, that’s where he’d go. Plenty of woods to escape into with a single approach by car to the home. And the home was so old, how many hideouts or secret passageways there were was anybody’s guess.
Parking about a quarter of a mile away from the driveway, he went the rest of the way on foot. The road was quiet in the middle of the day, devoid of any traffic. A dog barked at Hawk as he crept past its house. Once Hawk cleared the fence, the yapping ceased.
Hawk decided to make his approach from below the house, which sat just at the foot of a small hill. While he wasn’t sure it would make much difference, Hawk wanted any advantage, however small it might be. If Petrov was focused on the likely route of any approaching vehicles, she might miss him. The extra time was worth the potential reward.
The house was set about three hundred meters off the road. Hawk crouched low as he hustled up toward the structure, bracing for the door to open at any second and Petrov to start firing at him. Hawk slipped up behind a felled oak tree. Part of the wood had rotted, and the grass around it had withered. The natural barrier gave Hawk a respite in his journey to the house and a chance to call Alex.
“What happened to you?” Alex demanded once she picked up. “What happened to going dark?”
“Did they pick you up?”
“Yeah,” she said. “But I’m not happy about this. How come you think you can do this on your own?”
“I don’t. That’s why I’m calling you.”
“And where exactly are you?”
“At a little country farmhouse, one I think you may have spent some time at as a kid.”
“Are you at my old house?”
“I think that’s where Petrov has Michaels.”
“Have you confirmed that yet?”
“Not yet. That’s why I haven’t called the Secret Service. But I was wondering if you could give me the lay of the land so I know what I’m in for.”
“Hawk, don’t do this. Wait for backup. It’s too dangerous to go in there alone. And if something happens to Michaels . . .”
“Nothing is going to happen to him, okay? Just tell me about the house.”
She spent the next minute describing the floor plan.
“Any good hiding spots?” Hawk asked.
“There are plenty. They’d probably be too difficult to describe. But just be careful in the basement.”
“Why?”
“Lots of low-hanging pipes, storage rooms, doors to the outside.”
“From the basement?”
“There was a passageway from the basement to the outside that was connected by an underground tunnel,” she said. “I think it was built in case of nuclear blast. There was a bunker down there for a long time, but my mother converted it into a wine cellar.”
“A wine cellar?”
“I guess she knew there were no bombs coming. Anyway, that’d be a great way to get in or out, if you need to.”
“Roger that,” Hawk said.
“Be careful, Hawk.”
“You know me.”
“I do—and that’s why I say that every single time.”
Hawk hung up and contemplated his next move. For a fleeting second, he considered walking in the front door and leaning on his marksmanship skills but then thought better of it. The back entry was the best idea, and he knew it.
Hawk commenced to slinking around the side of the house and scanning the back for the cellar entry. It didn’t take him long before he identified it and hustled toward the door. He descended the steps and found the passageway connecting the cellar to the basement.
Dangling spider webs latched on to Hawk’s face as he eased through the tunnel using a flashlight from his phone for light. The dirt ground beneath him was damp and rocky, neither of which aided him in his quest to sneak in quietly.
After creeping along through the length of the tunnel, Hawk noticed a faint light coming from beneath the door leading into the basement. He took a deep breath and exhaled before drawing his weapon.
Here goes nothing.
Hawk pushed gently on the door, and light flooded into the tunnel. His eyes took a few seconds to adjust. When they did, he realized he was staring into the beams of two high wattage bulbs situated on tripods and aimed toward the door.
“I’m glad you could make it, Mr. Hawk,” Petrov said as she held her gun to President Michaels’s head. “I’ve been expecting you.”
“I know you’re desperate, but I don’t think you fully understand what you’re doing,” Hawk said, keeping his gun trained on her.
“You underestimate me—again,” she said, mocking him with her tone. “Not only do I know exactly what I’m doing, but I’m going to get you to do whatever I ask.”
Hawk looked at Michaels, who had duct tape stripped across his lips. “Are you okay?”
Michaels shook his head.
Petrov waved her index finger at Hawk. “I don’t think you understand who’s in control here. That would be me. You don’t talk to my hostage. You talk to me.”
“Look, I just want to resolve this as quickly
