They estimated that distance and started calling for Black. Hawk froze when he thought he heard him.
“Sshh,” Hawk said, holding up his hand in a gesture for Alex to stop. “Listen.”
They both heard the faint cries beneath the surface.
“I think we’re practically standing on top of him,” Hawk said.
They both fell to their knees and started digging. After about a minute of digging, Hawk saw Black’s hand, which was still extended upward. Hawk gave it a squeeze before frantically digging with Alex to get his colleague out.
Black collapsed once he reached the surface, a wide grin spread across his face. “I thought you would never find me.”
“Well, we weren’t going to just leave you here,” Hawk said.
Black sat up. “No, she wasn’t going to just leave us here.” He turned toward Alex. “Do you ever get tired of saving Hawk?”
Alex laughed, but Hawk cast a wary glance at Black.
“This is a two-way street,” Hawk said. “It’s what being partners is all about in the field.”
Black was still grinning. “Just for fun: Alex, can you tell me what the count is on how many times you’ve saved him to how many times he’s saved you?”
“I think I’m ahead eight to five at this point.”
Hawk scowled. “Eight to five? Are you mad?”
Alex and Black both shared a laugh at Hawk’s expense as they all piled onto Alex’s snowmobile before navigating back to the van.
“Now what?” Alex asked. “I know you two have been encased in snow and probably weren't thinking about Obsidian's plant, but it was incinerated before the entrance was covered by falling boulders. And unless you tied up Mack Walsh and left him somewhere, we’re back to no leads.”
“I almost had Walsh but lost him just before the facility exploded,” Hawk said. “But I have a plan.”
“Oh?” Black said. “You mind sharing that with the rest of us?”
“We’re not going to go looking for Walsh,” Hawk said.
“That’s quite the plan, Hawk. How exactly do you expect to track down the Obsidian agent without looking for him?”
A faint smile spread across Hawk’s lips. “I don’t have to look for him because he’s going to come looking for us.”
“And what makes you so sure of that?” Alex said.
“We’re going to turn the tables on him.”
CHAPTER 20
Two Days Later
Santa Fe, New Mexico
HAWK ADJUSTED HIS SUNGLASSES before knocking on the adobe bungalow situated in a cul-de-sac at the end of an older neighborhood. Alex stood next to him in a blue dress. She reached up and adjusted his tie.
“You ready?” he asked.
She nodded. “But for the record, I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Walsh thought this was my weakness—and the weakness you see in others is often the same weakness you see in yourself.”
“There are other ways to doing this,” she said.
“We can’t afford to wait, and you know it. This is a matter of national security, and sometimes you have to take extreme measures.”
After the team left Idaho, Blunt called them to report that the FBI was working in conjunction with Homeland Security to determine what was going on in Obsidian's mountain facility. While Blunt admitted that he wasn't sure he'd be able to trust any report that emerged from the scene given Obsidian's penchant for co-opting government officials at every level, it would take weeks to remove the rocks blocking the entrance just to get inside. The combination of the explosion and the avalanche rendered the mountain nearly impenetrable for the foreseeable future. Officials were already estimated it would be early summer before the snow would melt and enable them to get the equipment necessary to move the rocks away from the site. And if the Phoenix Foundation was going to find out what Obsidian's plan was to execute its endgame, they couldn't sit around.
“Like I said, there are other ways.”
Hawk shot her a glance and knocked.
“You’re still letting your emotions get the best of you,” she said. “This isn’t you, Hawk.”
Once he heard footsteps near the door, he reached behind his back and wrapped his hand around his gun.
The door swung open seconds later, revealing a woman with solid gray hair neatly cropped against her face. The wrinkles around the corners of her eyes along with her leathery skin made her look precisely how old Hawk knew she was. At age sixty-seven, Marsha Templeton was in good health—and naïve about what her son was up to.
“Mrs. Templeton,” Hawk said. “We need to have a word with you.”
“Okay,” she said. “If you’re trying to sell me something, I’m not interested.”
Hawk brandished his weapon and gestured for her to go back inside. “We just want to talk.”
Hawk and Alex strode into the house before Alex shut the door behind them. Wide-eyed and mouth agape, Mrs. Templeton backpedaled into the house.
“What do you want?” she asked. “I’ll—I’ll give you anything. Money? My car? You want jewelry?”
“Sit down,” Hawk said, gesturing toward the couch with his gun, which he then slipped into the back of his pants. “We’re not here to hurt you. We just need to talk.”
Mrs. Templeton cocked her head to one side and furrowed her brow. “Talk? That’s all you want to do? I can do that.”
Alex sat down in a chair across from Mrs. Templeton. “We need to talk about your son.”
Mrs. Templeton rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “What’s he done now? Are you with the mafia, needing me to pay off some of his gambling debts? I always told him that betting on sports was going to be the death of him.”
Hawk sat down on the love seat and shook his head. “No, Mrs. Templeton, we’re not here to collect on a gambling debt. But what your son has done is most definitely going be the death of him.”
“Are you the one who’s going to kill him?” she asked.
“Only if I have to, but you can help him by helping us.”
Hawk glanced at her ringer finger, her wedding band still firmly secured to her hand even though her
