“Perhaps we can do something about that soon enough. In the meantime, we can’t really worry about this until we get back to Washington and get briefed on what’s going on.”
“Sounds like Blunt doesn’t know much himself,” Alex said. “Didn’t you say it sounded like he was in a river? What’s he doing in FBI custody?”
“Who knows? I haven’t looked at the news in quite a while, but I’m sure we can find something about it on the internet. In the meantime, we need to think about what Fazil might do.”
Alex crossed her arms. “Clearly, this whole stunt was a diversion. Fazil wanted us to come after this so he could have time to do whatever it is he’s doing back home.”
“Whatever Fazil is up to, Blunt sounded scared.”
“Scared? Blunt?”
“Yeah, I know. It’s unusual, but I heard a tremor in his voice.”
“So, now what?”
Hawk’s eyes widened. “First things first. I need to call Thomas Colton and let him know that we neutralized his weapon.”
“I’m sure he’ll sleep better at night.”
“I doubt he’s lost a wink of sleep over the whole ordeal.”
Hawk pulled out his phone and dialed Colton’s number.
“I’ve got some good news for you,” Hawk said.
“Brady! It’s so good to hear your voice,” Colton replied.
“If you think the sound of my voice is good, wait until you hear what I’m about to say—we disarmed the weapon.”
“That’s wonderful.”
Hawk caught a tinge of reticence in Colton’s tone.
“Is everything all right?” Hawk asked.
“Well, first off, I’m glad you disabled the weapon. I appreciate what you did to make sure there wasn’t a crisis in the Strait of Hormuz. I hope it wasn’t too difficult for you.”
Hawk huffed a soft laugh through his nose. “I guess that assessment would be relative.”
“Secondly, there’s something you need to know.”
“I’m listening.”
Colton sighed. “I just found this out myself and haven’t found the gumption to call J.D. and let him know about it. But I need to let someone know as soon as possible because it’s important.”
“What happened?”
“Al Hasib stole something far more dangerous than our prototype torpedo weapons system, but nobody noticed it until now.”
“What did they take?”
“We developed a suitcase nuke.”
Hawk laughed nervously. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. It’s heavy as hell, but it will actually fit in a briefcase.”
“And what kind of damage can a weapon like that do?”
“It could wipe out a square mile in a city, maybe more.”
“That’s all?” Hawk asked.
“I wish I had better news, but we just found out about it. Al Hasib’s theft was actually all about that. The weapons system was just to throw us off track.”
“They did a damn good job, didn’t they?”
“I wish you weren’t right, but you are. They fooled us all.”
Hawk sighed. “That’ll be like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“Except you don’t even know where the haystack is.”
“Actually, I do. It’s New York City, which doesn’t help much. But I’ll be in touch,” Hawk said before he hung up.
He looked at Alex, his face telling.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Al Hasib stole a true suitcase nuke,” Hawk said. “We’re screwed.”
He picked up his phone and started dialing another number.
“Who are you calling now?” she asked.
“I’m calling the president.”
* * *
NOAH YOUNG LOOKED at the number on his phone and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to take Brady Hawk’s call. If anyone learned that they were communicating, Young’s political future could be in jeopardy. With all the alleged links between Young and Blunt, adding a former Navy Seal to a list of connections could be all that Peterson needed to seize control of the election narrative a few weeks before the vote. The news report suggesting that maybe Conrad Michaels didn’t actually die of natural causes—and that at least one black ops agent was at Camp David—was already becoming a growing headache for Young. And if someone tied Young to Hawk in the public sphere, Young’s campaign could be sunk.
“People before politics,” Young said to himself as he begrudgingly answered the phone.
“Talk to me,” Young said.
“Mr. President, I wanted to call you with a report. I gather that Blunt’s hands might be tied at the moment, and I need to speak with you about a potential terrorist threat in New York City.”
“I had my security briefing this morning and am well aware of all the threats against us.”
“Including what’s happening with Al Hasib?”
Young scowled and sifted through some papers on his desk. “I don’t recall seeing anything like that.”
“If that’s the case, there’s something going on that the FBI doesn’t want you to know about for some reason,” Hawk said. “But it’s a grave threat, and it requires your immediate attention.”
“I appreciate your concern, Brady, but I’m in the middle of a campaign here. I’ve got enough troubles of my own. I’m sure the FBI can handle any threats without my help. They’re a capable organization.”
“I understand, sir. But this isn’t just another baseless threat—and the FBI knows it.”
“Then let them handle it. I have more pressing matters at the moment.”
“Sir, I wouldn’t insist, much less call you and waste your precious time, unless this were of the utmost importance.”
“I’ve already told you—”
“Mr. President, Karif Fazil is in New York City and has a stolen prototype suitcase nuke developed by Colton Industries. Now, I know you’re focused on the campaign, but if this thing detonates in the next couple of days, thousands of people could die. And it’ll happen on your watch. Any hope you might have of winning the election will be gone with Fazil’s strike.”
“This doesn’t seem possible. How come nobody ever told me about this threat?”
“I can’t answer that, sir, but I know Fazil better than anybody. I can help put a stop to this.”
“Report to the FBI offices in New York and offer your services. I need to talk to my Homeland Security secretary about what’s going on and will make sure you’re working with the point people on this.”
“Thank you, sir,” Hawk said. “I know you’ve wanted to eliminate Al Hasib for this very reason. Getting Fazil will be
