Without saying a word to Blunt, she removed both her shoes, clawing at her heels with her toes to free her shoes up. She let them lie haphazardly in front of her and moved her feet around, flexing her toes and doing a little half-hearted dance. After that she waited and waited. Another half hour passed before she made another move.
This time, Alex used her toes to snatch the heel of the right shoe and pulled it back against the wall. She pinned the shoe against the wall with her butt and slowly worked the shoe upward, all while maintaining a motion that would appear to anyone watching that she was itching her back. After fifteen painful minutes, she maneuvered the shoe up near her head. This enabled her to grab the shoe. She worked to dig out the cushion but with little luck. The cushion remained stuck inside the shoe.
As she worked on this, the main door to the prison opened, echoing down the hallway.
She cursed under her breath and mulled over her decision: continue to dig out the device and hope a guard doesn’t enter the prison or drop the shoe immediately and hope it doesn’t fall too far away. Alex opted for the former.
Come on. Get outta there.
She scraped at the edges frantically while the footfalls grew closer and closer.
Just a little more.
As the cushion broke free, the sound of a key being inserted into her cell’s lock sent her into a panic. Her hands started to sweat and the shoe slipped free, the device still inside.
A guard strode into the room and glared at Alex.
“Do you need to go to the restroom?” he asked in perfect English. “You looked like you might be in pain.”
Alex grimaced and played along. “Oh, yes, thank you. I’ve had to go for quite a while now.”
He unlocked her chains and remained in the cell.
“Do you mind?” she said.
He turned around to give her privacy and noticed one of her shoes lying in the middle of the room. Grunting as he stooped down to pick it up, he studied the inside.
“I think you dropped something,” he said.
He stopped and inspected the shoe, digging at the misplaced sole.
“What’s this?” he asked with a furrowed brow.
Alex shimmied her pants up and buttoned them quickly. She reached for the shoe.
“It’s just a shoe. An uncomfortable one, but nothing more.”
The guard pulled it back from her. “I don’t think so. This looks like some sort of electronic device.”
“It’s just a battery-powered air freshener to keep my feet from grossing everyone out.”
“No,” he said. “I’m on to you. Up against the wall.”
Alex sighed and complied, knowing she had no chance in a fight against the bulky guard.
“They’re going to make fun of you,” she said as she slid her hands into the bindings. “Bringing a woman’s shoe back because you think there’s some dangerous electronic device in it.”
The guard chuckled. “Nobody makes fun of me. I can assure you of that.”
Alex watched as he reattached her chains to the wall and exited the room, the door clanging shut behind him. She looked over at Blunt, who was shaking his head.
“Alex, Alex, Alex,” he said with a groan.
“I know,” she said. “It’s all my fault. I thought I had it, but I was wrong.”
“That’s going to be a costly mistake, maybe even a deadly one.”
She sighed. “You don’t need to tell me that.”
Her head dropped as she looked down at the floor, her other shoe still neatly in its place just below her. The water from the pipe splashed down into the small puddle as the full weight of her situation hit home.
We’re both going to die.
CHAPTER 16
Washington, D.C.
HAWK TUCKED A COPY of The Washington Post under his arm and sauntered along one of the National Mall walkways. He scuffed at some of the pebbles marking the footpath as he moved toward his eventual location, a bench with its back to the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History and its front facing the Smithsonian Castle. Without any leaves on the trees, Hawk couldn’t help but notice how bare the area was in December. Outside of the winter months, the trees were bursting with color and provided plenty of shade on those scorching afternoons for tourists visiting the nation’s capital. But both the shade and tourists were in short supply as Hawk meandered along.
Before he sat down, Hawk attached an envelope beneath the bench next to his. He had stuffed the envelope in the newspaper, which he dropped to make his attempt at a quasi-dead drop seem more natural. Finished with his task, Hawk eased onto the bench and leaned back. He opened his paper and started to read about the latest on the election and the polls attempting to predict the outcome. Two minutes into an editorial opining about the potential makeup of Noah Young’s cabinet, Hawk’s appointment guest arrived.
Hawk peered over the top of his paper at the man and asked him a question to verify his identity.
“I don’t know what’s colder—this weather or the future?”
“Everything feels colder when you live under a repressive regime,” the man answered.
Hawk sighed. He didn’t make up the phrasing of the questions or the answers. They were the instructions Fazil had passed along. Hawk was sure the response was given just to irk him. Hawk tried to ignore it, but the phony exchange underscored why he wanted so badly to eliminate Al Hasib.
“Nice day for a walk,” the man said.
“I’m not here for small talk, just business. You can practice your conversational English with someone else who gives a damn. I’m only here because I have to be.”
“Very well then. Did you get the proper credentials?”
“They’re located underneath your bench along with a map of Andrews Air Force Base. What’s your weapon?”
“I was instructed not to speak with you about such things.”
Hawk huffed. “If you want
