“Ultimately, you’ll find your revenge is completely unfulfilling,” Alex said. “Once you get what you want, what will you do then? Make up more reasons and excuses to fight the Americans? Your battle will never end, and you know it. Not to mention that you haven’t succeeded yet. I’d be careful about counting your chickens before they’ve hatched.”
Fazil threw his head back and laughed. “You are trying to make me doubt myself and one of my best men? But like any attempts to prevent this from happening, you too have failed. The will of Allah will be done, and the leader of the infidels will be vanquished in a matter of hours.”
Fazil tacked on a pair of lashes for both of his prisoners before exiting the cell and staggering down the hallway.
“You will wish you were never born by the time my men are finished with you.”
* * *
BLUNT BLINKED TWICE and tried to clear the mixture of blood and sweat seeping into his eyes.
“Are you all right over there?” Blunt asked.
“Never better,” Alex said.
“I know that’s a lie.”
“At this point, I don’t really care. I’d almost rather him just end it.”
Blunt struggled to take a deep breath. “Don’t give up hope just yet. You never know what can happen.”
“That’s exactly why I want to give up hope, because what can happen is far worse than death. If Fazil lets his men do to me what they want, I promise you I will wish for a quick death. Just the thought—”
She quit midsentence, signaling to Blunt that she was losing hope.
“You’ve got to keep believing that we’re going to get out of this, Alex. If you surrender any hope, Fazil has already won. Don’t give him the satisfaction, no matter what happens.”
“Weren’t you the one who said you had given up and that you’d rather just die? You’re confusing me.”
“I thought about it some more. I just can’t go out like this, not at the hands of this insane man. We’ve just got to stay alive and keep our wits about us. Do whatever it takes to keep breathing.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re a man. They’re not going to do to you what they’re going to do to me.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. But quite frankly, it doesn’t matter. I have faith that no matter what Fazil says, Hawk is going to somehow figure out a way to thwart the plans of Al Hasib.”
“It certainly doesn’t sound that way.”
“Fazil is just playing mind games, Alex. I know this isn’t the first time you’ve been held hostage, but it might be the first time you’ve been manipulated by a certifiable head case. He knows how to play the game, so you just need to learn how to play it along with him.”
“What does that even mean?”
Blunt sighed. “Look, just don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that you’ve given up. Think of something—virtually anything—that could help you ignore all of Fazil’s braggadocios claims. He’s full of shit anyway. And I can’t wait until his ace agent fails to do what Fazil is so certain will happen.”
“In the end, it may not matter for us.”
“Perhaps, but we can’t let the picture that Fazil is trying to paint dictate our lives. If things go our way, we’ll be out of here before you know it—and hopefully with designs on eliminating Karif Fazil and his terrorist organization for good.”
“I’ll try to stay positive, but I’m not making any promises.”
“That’s all I ask,” Blunt said.
He winced from the pain, which still coursed throughout his entire body. He felt just like Alex felt, but he wouldn’t dare admit it, at least not to her. Someone needed to be strong. He figured it might as well be him.
Dear God, if you exist, please help Brady Hawk tomorrow—and protect us.
Blunt knew his prayer was self-serving, but he didn’t care. He knew they needed every bit of help they could get.
CHAPTER 21
Washington, D.C.
THE EVENING BEFORE YOUNG’S FLIGHT to Texas, Hawk met with Young and his Secret Service detail to go over the specifics of the next afternoon’s trip. While Hawk preferred another path, he didn’t see one. If Young was going to survive, everything needed to go exactly as planned. Any variation would result in a tragic outcome, not only for Young and the aides surrounding him, but also for Alex and Blunt.
“If the Al Hasib agent doesn’t get a shot off, two people are going to die for sure,” Hawk said.
“And who’s to say they’re not going to die anyway?” one of the Secret Service agents asked. “This is all just a bunch of bullshit. We’re all going to put our lives in harm’s way so some old former senator on his last leg and some replaceable computer genius can survive—and even then, there are no guarantees. It’s just ridiculous.”
“They’re my friends,” Young snapped, “and there are no lengths we shouldn’t go to in order to bring them back alive, even if the risk is high.”
“These people are irrelevant,” the agent snapped.
“These people have kept you safe in ways you can’t even imagine,” Young roared. “And we will do everything to ensure their safe return home, and that includes you.”
The agent shrugged before slumping back into his chair.
“I hope no one else thinks they are a better tactical planner than the team of advisors here at the White House,” Young said. “I’ve actually been out on the front lines, and I know the incredible value in having someone on your team who understands how to get things done. And while you may not
