Alex huffed a laugh through her nose. “If I blast this place now, you’ll be lucky to identify him with dental records.”
“At least it would put an end to my visits to this godforsaken part of the world.”
“I’m not doing it,” she said. “Not until you can get a visual on him. It’s too risky.”
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll get closer.”
“You better make it quick. I can’t keep this drone in the air all day. There are limitations to what I can do.”
“Just fly it elsewhere for a while. Give me some time to work. I’ll notify you as soon as I see something, and then you can come in and finish the job. Deal?”
“These things aren’t solar powered,” she said. “I can’t just fly it forever. At some point, I’m going to have to guide this bird back to the base.”
“You’re gonna have to trust me on this,” Hawk said. “Watch me on the satellite feed. You’ll see just how close I am before I let you know I have visual confirmation.”
“And how exactly are you going to entice Fazil to come out?”
“I’ve got a few ideas—none of which will work if you keep buzzing this drone around his hideout. Are you with me?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll take her elsewhere. But you better work quick. Based on my calculations, I’ve got maybe a half hour left before I’ll have to send her back to the base and park her.”
“Roger that.”
Alex typed in a few more new coordinates, sending off the drone in a different direction. All she could do now was wait—and hope.
CHAPTER 8
Washington, D.C.
BLUNT SAT AT THE BAR and glanced at the football game airing on the television affixed to the wall. The Packers were hosting the Redskins on a snowy Lambeau Field. The bartender made eye contact with Blunt before glancing down at his glass.
“Time for another?” the bartender asked.
Blunt swirled the dregs of his bourbon around and shrugged.
“Why not? Looks like I got stood up anyway.”
“Blind date?”
“That might be the only way I get a date these days,” Blunt deadpanned. “She’d have to be blind. I’m not exactly the prettiest thing on the shelf.”
“Love isn’t always about looks,” the bartender said as he placed another glass in front of Blunt.
“But it sure does help.”
“Help what?” asked a man behind Blunt.
Blunt turned around to see Trevor McDonald a few feet away wearing a big grin.
“What?” McDonald asked. “You didn’t think I was going to stand you up, did you?”
“I was beginning to wonder.”
McDonald settled onto the stool next to Blunt and ordered a drink.
“Sorry about earlier,” McDonald said. “If there’s one place you shouldn’t be making plans to skirt the law, it’s inside NSA headquarters.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I put you in a difficult situation, and that’s my fault. You did the right thing.”
“I still don’t feel right about this whole thing, but given the circumstances, I felt like someone needed to know, someone who would actually do something about it.”
Blunt took a pull on his drink. “So, no one at the NSA would take any action on what you found?”
McDonald looked over his left shoulder and then his right before proceeding. “Let’s just say that not everyone there shares the same political views we do.”
Blunt waved dismissively. “It’s not about political affiliation. It’s about doing what’s right. I don’t care what party a candidate is in. If he—or she—needs to be shut down, then someone needs to do it. And it might as well be me.”
“Before I tell you this, you have to answer me one question.”
“Fire away.”
“You’re not just doing this because you’re close with Noah Young, are you?”
“My relationship with Noah Young is incidental in this case,” Blunt said. “I’ve heard some pretty rotten things from insiders on James Peterson. He puts on a good face, but behind the scenes, he’s a ball buster. It’s his way or the highway.”
“That seems to be a common trait among self-made billionaires.”
“It’s also the recipe for disaster when it comes to dealing with a divided electorate and a world rife with terrorists who know how to push all the right buttons. I’d give him six months before he has the world at each other’s throats and ready to start the next big world war.”
“So you think you can stop him?”
“Depends upon what kind of information you give me tonight.”
“Well, you’re going to love what I’m about to tell you.”
Blunt arched his eyebrows and gestured for McDonald to continue.
“Okay, no one else at the NSA seems to be very concerned with the incidental information I’ve collected on Peterson, but I think it’s quite serious.”
“How so?”
“He’s meeting with a Russian ambassador in a few days.”
Blunt took another pull on his drink. “And why were you listening in on this particular ambassador?”
“He’s proposing a deal to Peterson in exchange for help with the election.”
“Financial help?”
McDonald nodded. “That’s the rumor. We haven’t been able to confirm it.”
“So, you exposed him?”
“It might seem politically motivated at this point, but there are some people I know who seem genuinely concerned with the possibility that Peterson could find his way to the Oval Office.”
“Count me among those who are concerned.”
“I thought you might be, but I’m very serious. There are some other things happening that I’m not at liberty to discuss.”
“What kind of things?”
“The kind of things that could land a man in federal prison for a very long time.”
“Peterson?”
McDonald stared at his drink and didn’t say a word.
“Someone close to Peterson?”
McDonald remained quiet, staring up at the television.
“Okay, fine. You don’t want to talk about it in public. I understand. But you need to give me something to go on rather than a vague and cryptic comment. If I’m going to hunt, I need to know what I’m hunting for.”
“Just expose Peterson for the fraud that he is,” McDonald said. “That will save everyone a lot of trouble.”
Blunt smiled. “I can do that. All I need from you is
