If he can pull that off, there’s nothing we can do about it. We’re all screwed.
Discouraged, he closed the paper and started making breakfast.
* * *
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Hawk donned a disguise and walked several blocks to a run-down laundromat. Thumbing a card in his pocket, Hawk made sure to keep his head down to avoid any facial recognition scans Michaels might be running through any of the city’s publicly placed cameras. He tugged his hat low on his face and wore large sunglasses.
He found the lone pay phone around the side of the building. Covered in graffiti, Hawk picked up the receiver and was pleasantly surprised to find it in working condition. The numbers and letters on the keypad had been worn off and were difficult to see without a close examination. He pulled the card out of his pocket and dialed the number of New York Times reporter Lee Hendridge.
“Hi, Lee. This is your favorite government source,” Hawk said.
“Who?”
“I’d rather not say, but I’m pretty sure you recognize my voice.”
“Yeah, okay. I know who this is. What do you want?”
“I was wondering if you’d be interested in a big story, a blockbuster story, the kind that could make your career explode.”
Hendridge remained silent.
“Lee, are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Just not sure I want anything to do with something that will make anything in my life explode. I’ve had enough of that.”
“Are you all right?” Hawk asked.
“Yeah. Just kind of busy with some other stories right now. Maybe in a couple of weeks. I’m just tied up at the moment.”
“This story will be old news by then,” Hawk said.
“Well, give it to someone else then. I’m trying to tell you as politely as possible that I’m not available to look into whatever story you’re pushing right now.”
“Got any suggestions for who might be willing to run with something like this?”
“Do your own research,” Lee said. “Gotta run.”
Hendridge hung up and Hawk followed suit.
On his way back to the safe house, Hawk replayed the conversation in his head a couple of times. Something definitely felt off. Hendridge acted cold and almost indifferent to the story. The reporter Hawk had met earlier was far more engaging and winsome. And he would’ve pursued any tips Hawk passed along like a wild animals on a fresh carcass.
Hawk considered that perhaps Hendridge thought his phone was tapped. Given the recent history of presidential administrations tapping journalists’ phones, such paranoia was completely justifiable. A simple “no thank you” would’ve sufficed if Hendridge truly wanted to distance himself from Hawk’s lead. But the evasive answers and foggy memory made Hawk wonder if something else was going on.
Back at the safe house, he reported what happened to Blunt and Alex. Neither of them had any better theories than Hawk, just wild speculation as to what could’ve been the reason for Hendridge’s behavior.
“I’m going to find out what’s really going on and pay him a visit tomorrow,” Hawk said.
“Be careful,” Blunt said. “I’m not sure that type of risk is worth it.”
“At this point, we’re running out of time,” Hawk said. “I can’t sit around and do nothing.”
“If you must,” Blunt said. “But exercise extreme caution. Michaels is unhinged and who knows what he’s got planned for us. But I can promise you that whatever it is, it won’t be good.”
CHAPTER 30
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Blunt received a text message requiring an urgent response. He hadn’t even finished his morning cup of coffee or read his copy of The Washington Post, self-imposed prerequisites before he spoke to anyone at the start of a new day. He groaned as he eased out of his chair and paced around the room. The combination of rest and painkillers helped him recover more quickly than he’d anticipated, but he was still far from feeling back to his old self.
“Good morning,” Hawk said as he entered the kitchen.
“Wish I could say the same,” Blunt grumbled.
“You feeling okay?”
“General Fortner has an urgent message for me. Those are never good.”
Blunt ambled back to his room and placed the call to Fortner.
“Thanks for getting back to me so quickly,” Fortner said after he answered.
“What’s so urgent?”
“I just saw a kill order for Brady Hawk, and I thought you’d want to let him know.”
“Who signed it?”
“The president.”
Blunt unleashed a string of expletives. “I guess saving the life of that sorry pathetic excuse for a leader was only worth a slight reprieve in his vendetta against Hawk.”
“Did you expect Michaels to suddenly be filled with gratitude? That man is about as self-absorbed as they come, and he’s going to ruin our country if he gets his way.”
“If he thinks killing Hawk is going to solve all his problems, Michaels has another thing coming. He’s also got a short memory, too, if he thinks murdering Hawk is going to be easy.”
“From what I’ve seen in the field, Hawk can handle himself. I don’t know any Special Forces agent who would hold the upper hand against Hawk, and I know some damn good ones.”
“It still worries me,” Blunt said. “All Michaels has to do is fabricate some evidence against Hawk like he did before, and the whole world will be looking for Hawk. He’s good but nobody could last long when you’re on every criminal watch list with every known law enforcement agency in the world.”
“There has to be another way to bring Michaels down first,” Fortner said. “I’m sure you’ll think of something. You always do.”
“You have far more confidence in me than I have in myself.”
“You faked your own death once, and now you walk around a free man.”
Blunt chuckled. “You say this as I’m holed up in a safe house hiding from my own government.”
“Well, until recently, you were.”
“Yes, but here I am now, and it’s not a good place.”
“Things can change quickly. You ought to know that as well as anyone by now.”
“Usually for the worse.”
“Look, if you need my help with anything over there, I’m not
