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 is it? What does he want you to do?”
Hawk didn’t flinch, maintaining his distant gaze.
“Help me out here,” Fortner said. “What does Fazil want you to do?”
“He wants me to help him kill the president,” Hawk said, his voice stripped of any inflection or emotion. “He wants Noah Young dead.”
“Bastard,” Fortner said as he slammed his fist on the table. “That’s a situation that won’t be easy to escape.”
“Not without some serious collateral damage. And I don’t think either one of us are willing to let that happen, are we?”
“Not a chance. I’d send a team of Rangers in to rescue Alex and J.D.—if I only knew where they were.”
Hawk sighed. “That’d only make Fazil more determined. I know it might not seem possible now, but I think he’d turn into an even more dangerous foe if we did that to him.”
“We need put him down before this turns into Osama bin Laden all over again.”
“Agreed,” Hawk said, nodding resolutely. “We’ve had our chances, but every time we put him in the crosshairs, pulling the trigger would usually mean more senseless tragedy. So far, we’ve been able to stave that off by thwarting his attacks. But at some point, he’s going to get the better of us if we don’t take him out once and for all.”
“Think you can find out where he is?”
“It’s possible, but without Alex, I don’t know that I’ll be able to successfully pull it off.”
“I’d send some of my best Rangers with you. You’d have an elite team around you to assist in the operation.”
“Then I guess all I have to do is find out where they are, which is easier said than done.”
“You said you might have a way. At this point, it’s all we’ve got.”
Hawk nodded. “Let me try my contacts and see what I come up with. I’ll get back with you once I hear something.”
After leaving the Pentagon, Hawk returned to one of Blunt’s secret apartments downtown. Blunt had a few numbers stuck in his head from his time in Iraq, though he wasn’t sure any of them would lead to the person he needed to talk to: Kejal.
Kejal’s uncle, Jaziri, had been a great asset for the Seals over the years on secret missions in Iraq. Hawk had met the elderly man just once while with the Seals, but the bond they forged was a lasting one. When Hawk went on one of his first missions with Firestorm, he leaned heavily on Jaziri to gain a tactical position on an alleged Al Hasib hideout. Jaziri’s willingness to assist Hawk cost the old man his life, according to his nephew Kejal. Out of desire for revenge, Kejal joined Al Hasib with the intention of sabotaging future operations and getting even with the soldier who killed his uncle. Without Kejal’s help escaping a few weeks earlier from an Al Hasib prison, Hawk might still be stuck in the desert while New York dealt with a nuclear fallout. The fact that the world was a much better place because of Kejal wasn’t something Hawk would ever forget.
But Hawk needed Kejal’s help again.
Dialing an old number Hawk recalled from his memory bank, he hoped for a friendly voice on the other end of the line.
“Alo,” said the voice of what sounded like a middle-aged woman to Hawk.
Hawk spoke in Arabic. “I am trying to reach Kejal. Could you help me get in contact with him?”
“Who is this?”
“I am a friend of Jaziri’s. And I also know Kejal.”
“If you were a friend of Jaziri, you would know that he is dead.”
“I was a friend of Jaziri’s. Yes, I heard the news. I did not mean to suggest that I didn’t know. Blessings to you and your family.”
“Why do you want to talk with Kejal?”
“I need his help.”
“To do what?” the woman asked.
“I can’t really say.”
“Then I can’t really tell you how to reach him.”
“No, no, please don’t hang up. I really need to speak to him. It’s a matter of life and death.”
“You want to kill Kejal, don’t you? What did he do this time? Not chop off the heads of the people you commanded him to? I’m sure if he is hiding, then it is for good reason. And I’m not exactly inclined to give you his number. You probably have it already, but he isn’t answering your calls.”
“No, no. That’s not it at all. I’m not with Al Hasib.”
“Of course you’d say you weren’t. I’m not falling for that.”
“Is Kejal there?”
“If he was, I wouldn’t tell you. Now, leave me alone, and don’t ever call here again.”
Hawk hung up, disappointed over the rejection from the woman that he figured was Kejal’s mother and Jaziri’s sister. Al Hasib had torn her family apart, and she suspected Hawk was affiliated with the terrorists. While lamenting the inability to connect with Kejal through his family, Hawk understood the woman’s reticence to help.
Hawk was convinced that pressing her would only make it worse, especially if Al Hasib was listening in on her conversations or if Kejal really had abandoned his post with the group. Instead of wasting more time in what Hawk suspected would be a futile effort, he reported the news back to Fortner.
“We don’t have much time now,” Fortner said. “We need to come up with another plan.”
“I’m already on it,” Hawk said.
CHAPTER 10
NOAH YOUNG TOOK A FEW practice swings with his golf club while waiting just off the cart path for his playing partner. A grin spread across his face as he saw Brady Hawk approaching on another cart driven by a member of Young’s secret service detail. Once the vehicle came to a stop, Hawk climbed out and strode toward the president.
“How did you rig this?” Hawk asked as he put on his gloves.
“I just
