“He looks like a veritable Boy Scout,” Mallory said.
“And the other guy?” Alex asked.
“For some reason, I had a hard time pulling an image of him off the video. I don’t think he ever looks up.”
Alex slowed down the clip and tried to see if she could pause it where he looked directly at the camera. But he never did. His large cowboy hat did a sufficient job of protecting his face, even when he was looking outwardly.
“Nothing,” Alex said.
Instead of giving up, she scanned the images one by one, even after he left. She gasped before pumping her fist, catching Mallory’s attention.
“What do you see?” Mallory asked.
“Right after the phone call, he went outside,” Alex said. “Look right there in the car window. There’s a reflection of him. Can you work with that?”
Mallory nodded. “I’ll give it the old college try.”
Alex watched anxiously as Mallory worked her magic on the computer. She enhanced and enlarged the photo before finally inserting it the facial recognition program and hitting the start key.
“Look familiar to you?” she asked.
Alex shook her head.
“Not someone else you’ve run into before?” Mallory asked. “A foreign agent? A terrorist operative? A former boyfriend?”
“Could be the last one,” Alex said. “I definitely dated a lot of shady characters in high school.”
“I’m not sure I’ve heard all these stories,” Hawk said over the coms.
Alex laughed, forgetting that Mallory couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation.
“Your response was only mildly amusing, though I don’t recall you laughing so hard at your own jokes,” Mallory said.
“It’s something Hawk said. I’ll tell you all the stories you want to know on our next vacation. Deal?”
“Deal,” Hawk said. “Not that I’m jealous—just curious.”
“Sure,” Alex said, the sarcasm dripping from her response.
Thousands of images flickered onto the screen adjacent to the one Mallory had extracted, but nothing registered as a match. The process continued for another ten minutes with Alex and Mallory catching up on recent life events. Then the computer finally beeped, and the image next to the man from the auction house froze on the screen, ending the search.
“We have a winner,” Mallory announced.
Alex leaned forward and strained to read the name in small lettering at the bottom of the photo.
“Mack Walsh,” Alex read. “Ever heard of him?”
“He’s a big fish,” Mallory said as she opened up a search window and pecked out a web address. “Check this out.”
On the monitor, the FBI’s most wanted list appeared. Walsh checked in at No. 8.
“The FBI has been looking for him for over a decade,” Mallory said.
CHAPTER 13
BLUNT WAS ALREADY on his second cigar by the time the team arrived at the Phoenix Foundation for an 8:00 a.m. meeting. He was anxious to learn more about the Obsidian agent as well as put together a plan to catch him. Their sole link to the organization's leadership rested in Mack Walsh, and Blunt knew they needed to find the operative or risk losing the best connection they had to Obsidian's top brass.
When the door swung open, Blunt looked up to see Alex and Hawk. Blunt leaped to his feet and motioned for them to come inside.
“Do either of you want any coffee?” Blunt asked. “I’ll be more than happy to get you some.”
Alex and Hawk both held up their paper mugs from a popular specialty café and declined his offer.
“You two waste so much money at that place,” Blunt said. “You do realize that they over roast their beans, don’t you? And that you pay more than double what you should?”
He grumbled as he meandered over to the coffee tray and poured himself another cup.
“I don’t mind getting lectured,” Alex said. “At least, not when it comes from someone who is a paragon of health.”
“Okay, I’ll leave you alone,” Blunt said. “But don’t come crying to me when one day you get a taste of the great stuff and wonder aloud why nobody told you about how good coffee could really be. I’m telling you right now that the mess you’re drinking isn’t even close to being as good as what I’ve brewed up here.”
“You’re a bit jumpy and testy this morning,” Alex said. “Any reason for that?”
“Absolutely,” Blunt started. “I want to learn more about this murderer, and then I want to figure out a way to get him to talk that will intimidate him into telling us all about the people running Obsidian.”
“Well, I’ll leave the interrogation up to Hawk and Black, but I thought you might appreciate this dossier I prepared on Mack Walsh.”
“Go on,” Blunt said.
Black entered the room and quickly took Blunt up on his coffee offer. Once Black settled into his seat quietly, Alex continued.
“Currently, Mack Walsh is the eighth most wanted man by the FBI for his alleged execution-style murder of a federal judge more than a decade ago,” Alex said.
“A federal judge?” Blunt asked, his eyes widening. “That takes some cajones to do that.”
“Yes, it does,” Alex said. “But that's not all that I found interesting. Most court observers were convinced that Judge Nelson was going to rule in favor of the government on an eminent domain case. That was how Nelson had ruled more than a dozen times in the past, never once siding with the people. However, after he was murdered, the new judge reassigned to the case ruled in favor of the company, angering the government.”
“Where exactly is this land?” Blunt asked.
“Idaho,” she said. “Just on the edge of the Frank Church-River of No Return Wilderness Area.”
“Sounds foreboding enough,” Blunt said. “I’m sure you will have a wonderful time there.”
“You want us to go there?” Black asked.
Blunt shrugged. “You got any better ideas?”
“I was thinking maybe we should look in Texas and see what he was up to there first,” Black said. “I’d rather catch him out of his element.”
“I’d rather surprise him there,” Hawk said. “In my experience, people are always more relaxed in their lair.
