“I just found out about it myself.”
“Why didn’t my Secret Service detail know? Were they in on it?”
“No, no. Nothing like that. No one knew about it because the attack was launched from offshore.”
“A missile attack?”
“Chemical weapons, sir. But a pair of agents from The Phoenix Foundation was able to stop the attack from its origin in Cuba. They were able to divert the missile and guide it safely into the Atlantic.”
“Who was responsible for this?”
“The terrorist organization Al Fatihin, which is basically the resurrected version of Al Hasib.”
“Dammit. I thought we eliminated them.”
“Well, they weren’t the only ones associated with the attack.”
“Who else was involved?”
“Al Fatihin was aided and abetted by one of our own senators, Lon Thurman.”
“Thurman? Are you sure? We’ve been friends for a long time.”
“We have proof that he’s the one who was behind all this. However, the way we gathered some of the evidence against him might not be considered admissible in a court of law. Plus, I’m not sure what you think about how such a high-profile court case would play among the public.”
“It’d just further divide the country, if that’s even possible,” Young said.
“Thurman knows we’re on to him, but I think he believes he’s untouchable due to his relationship with you.”
“If he’s trying to kill me, that kind of changes things.”
Fortner sighed. “Perhaps he thinks he can convince you that it’s a conspiracy against him, that the Russians are trying to frame him for murdering his son.”
“Did they kill Thaxton?”
“Technically, yes. But we believe Thurman engaged a Russian assassin to carry out the deed.”
“But why would he kill his own son?
“Thaxton discovered what his father was up to and confronted him about it. Apparently, the senator didn’t care for that. The bigger question I have is why he would want to assassinate you.”
Young took a deep breath before continuing. “Ever since Thurman entered politics, people around him have been grooming him to become President one day. He had a strong resume, but he felt like he was lacking one more thing—a cabinet post.”
“And you didn’t offer him one?”
“Initially we talked about him serving as the Secretary of State, but I later decided to go in another direction. I knew he was upset about it, but I didn’t imagine he’d try to kill me. What could he possibly stand to gain from that?”
“He has a close relationship with your vice president,” Fortner said. “Perhaps he thought with you out of the picture that he could get what he wanted through a different route.”
“This is infuriating and disappointing,” Young said.
“The only question now is how do you want us to handle it? We could pass all this information along to the FBI and see if they’d want to take a crack at prosecuting him for all these crimes.”
“No, let’s handle this quietly. I think you know what needs to be done.”
“You’ve got it, sir.”
CHAPTER 32
BLUNT TOOK A LONG PULL from his glass and then swirled the amber liquid around before draining it. It was the first day in a week that the weather had cooled off enough for him to sit outside on his porch in the evening, something he didn’t imagine possible when temperatures were soaring near 100 degrees Fahrenheit. But much can change in one week.
It was only a week ago that he was musing how content he was to ride out the rest of his working days, squashing terrorists from his cushy third-floor office at The Phoenix Foundation. He glanced down at the flash drive on his coffee table. Everything changed when he saw the contents on the device. Names, organizations, affiliations, methods to control various elements of economy and government. All of it was deeply disconcerting.
His phone buzzed with a text from Hawk. He and Alex were at the door.
Blunt lumbered through the house and opened the door, allowing his guests inside without much in the way of a greeting. A half-hearted wave ushered them into his house.
“I’m out back,” Blunt said, already heading toward the porch.
“And drinking,” Alex said.
“Come join me,” he said. “We have plenty of reasons to drink.”
Hawk and Alex settled into wicker chairs across from Blunt.
“I assume you heard the news about Senator Thurman,” Hawk said.
Blunt shook his head. “I’ve had too many things on my mind. What happened?”
“Died of a heart attack last night.”
Blunt grunted. “Serves the bastard right. Anybody who has his own son murdered doesn’t deserve to live anyway.”
Alex got up and grabbed a pair of tumblers from the wet bar. She poured a pair of drinks for herself and Hawk before returning to her seat.
“So what’s got you in this mood?” Alex asked.
“Do you remember Lee Hendridge?”
“Yeah, how could I forget?” Alex asked. “The tenacious journalist who was murdered after helping us out.”
“Well, I met his former girlfriend, Rebecca Paris. She came to me about a week ago and told me that Lee wasn’t murdered for helping us. He was killed because of something else he was looking into. Long story short, it turns out he uncovered the existence of a group called Obsidian, which is a network of powerful people from various countries to control everything from food prices and production, to oil to banking and to government policies. It’s basically a shadow government ruling everything. Lee was going to expose all those involved.”
“Sounds depressing,” Hawk said.
“It is, but mostly because I just wanted The Phoenix Foundation to focus on working with the CIA on special projects. You know, the easy stuff. But this is a real threat to freedom everywhere and demands our attention.”
“I wonder if that’s what Mallory stumbled onto,” Alex said.
“What happened to her?”
“She found some images at the NSA of two senators meeting with four Chinese Navy admirals. After she mentioned it to me, someone broke into her house and ransacked it. They left this symbol on the wall, but she couldn’t find it anywhere on the internet or in the NSA archives.”
Alex held up her phone for Blunt
