“I don’t know what axe you have to grind, much less where you got a copy of that video, but let me assure you that you don't have the entire footage. I think deep down you need to ask how it benefits our country if everyone believes one of its strongest leaders took his own life? Do you feel like they have some right to see one of his darkest moments? Because rest assured, it will steal any dignity Conrad Michaels had regarding the end of his life, not to mention write a false narrative.”
Smith shifted in his chair. “I haven’t decided whether I even have the right to make the decision for people regarding the contents of the video. But what I do know is that the American people are owed the truth, which is something only you can give them. I can go to the press with this footage, and it’ll stir up plenty of trouble for you right before the election. But that’s not how I want this to play out. I simply want you to set the record straight.”
“I’ll think about it,” Young said as he leaned back in his chair.
“No, don’t think about it—do it. You have a big rally in two days at the Capital One Arena downtown. I can’t think of a better opportunity for you to cease with this charade and tell America what really happened that day and why. And who knows, maybe it’ll even boost your poll numbers.”
“I appreciate the courtesy of you coming to me first, though I must admit I don’t like the way you’ve cast veiled threats on this office if I don’t do exactly as you say. Once I take the time to examine all sides of this issue, I’ll make a decision and act accordingly.”
“That’s not how this goes, Mr. President. At your next rally, you’re going to tell everyone the truth about what happened to President Michaels or else I’m going to put that video on the Internet. It’ll go viral, and your political career just might be finished. But if you’re willing to chance it, that’s your decision. But I will be watching.”
Young glared at Smith. “You better be watching your back, too.”
“Speaking of veiled threats,” Smith said as he stood. “Killing me isn’t going to kill this footage, just so you know. Killing me will only make things worse for you, but you do what you need to do.”
“I will,” Young said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to the business of governing this country.”
Smith exited the room without even glancing back at Young. With stealthy movements, Smith eased the door shut behind him. A half a minute later, a knock at the door startled Young, shaking him out of his trance. He was still seething over Smith’s demands when the voice outside interrupted him.
“Mr. President, I have some paperwork for you to look at now that your meeting is over,” one of Young’s aides said.
“Come in,” Young said.
The aide dropped a stack of documents on the desk before stopping and staring at the president.
“Is everything all right, Mr. President?”
Young nodded slowly. “Everything is fine.”
“Well, you just seem kind of down. Is everything okay? Who was that last guy you met with? I didn’t recognize him nor was his name on the schedule today since I know what all of them look like.”
“That’s none of your concern. But everything is fine now. Just stressed about the upcoming election, that’s all.”
“Well, sir, with all due respect, you don’t really have much to worry about. I saw the latest polls this afternoon, and you’ve built pretty much an insurmountable lead with less than a week to go.”
“Fickle are the November winds,” Young said.
“Good thing this election is being held in December.”
Young forced a smile. “I’ll take a look at these and get back with you on them tomorrow.”
“No problem, sir,” the aide said. “I won’t take up any more of your time, sir. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon then.”
Left alone to ponder what he should do, Young felt his stomach churn. He knew the decision to hide the truth from the American people could come back to haunt him; he just hoped that if it ever did, it would’ve been years later, unable to do any damage to Michaels’s reputation and deliver more pain for his family. Young needed to squelch this story before it took on a life of its own. But was a public confession the best way to do that? Young wasn’t so sure.
CHAPTER 9
Washington, D.C.
HAWK STRODE THROUGH a Pentagon hallway and made his way to the conference room, where General Van Fortner sat waiting. Once Hawk locked eyes with Fortner, the general’s face dropped. He looked at the floor and shook his head.
“I’m so sorry, Hawk,” Fortner said. “I don’t know how we didn’t anticipate this.”
“Fazil surprised us all with his bait and switch maneuver,” Hawk said. “Given the fact that we’d just frozen all of Al Hasib’s assets, why would we have suspected anything more? We knew they were desperate for cash, and we couldn’t see past that. Tactically, I have to tip my hat to Fazil on this move. It wasn’t just bold; it was also a blindside.”
“Now it’s time for us to return the favor.”
“I like the sound of that, but we can’t forget that Fazil has two of our best,” Hawk said. “We can’t put them in more danger than they’re already in—and any attempts at stringing Fazil along is going to result in that.”
“I’m assuming Fazil has some conditions for returning Alex and J.D.”
Hawk nodded, unsure if he wanted to reveal the demands. Staring blankly at the wall for a few seconds, he struggled with what to say next.
“Hawk, what
