“Just promise me two things.”
“Depends on what you want.”
“I don’t want you on that stage tomorrow, and I want you to warn Fortner in person. Give him a chance to decide what to do for himself.”
Blunt grunted. “I’ll only agree to one of them.”
“Come on, you can tell Fortner,” Hawk said.
“That’s the one I’m going to attempt,” Blunt said with a chuckle.
“But you could be a target. Don’t be a fool.”
“If Obsidian really considered me a threat, I’d probably be dead already,” Blunt said. “But if Fortner decides to move forward anyway, I can’t abandon him. What kind of faith would that show in my agents? You and Black are two of the best operatives in the world, or am I mistaken?”
“Just be careful, sir,” Hawk said before he hung up. He sighed and slumped into his seat.
“So,” Alex began, “what did Blunt say?”
“He said he’d talk to Fortner—and that we better catch Walsh tomorrow and make sure nobody dies.”
“I’d expect nothing less from our fearless leader,” Black said.
Alex stared with her mouth agape. “He’s not going to urge Fortner to cancel the dedication?”
Hawk shook his head. “He’s going to let Fortner make that decision, but Blunt acted like that was little more than a courtesy call.”
“Of course Fortner is going to hold the ceremony as planned,” Black said. “He’s a proud Army man and has high expectations for the people he’s leading now.”
“In that case, let’s make sure we don’t disappoint Blunt or Fortner tomorrow,” Hawk said.
* * *
BLUNT TOOK A SEAT on the park bench in Rock Creek Park, folded up his Washington Post, and tucked it beneath his armpit. He gnawed on a cigar and waited five minutes until a man wearing a dark suit and sunglasses approached from the east. He tightened his scarf and sat down next to Blunt.
“Great day for a walk,” the man said.
“Great day to be alive,” Blunt answered back.
The man leaned forward, his fingers interlocked in front of him. “He’ll be in the white SUV on the northwest corner of the park. Five minutes.”
Blunt nodded at the man, who stood and casually strolled away.
After the allotted time, Blunt stood and lumbered toward the Fortner’s vehicle. Once inside, Blunt found the director poring over the latest intelligence report.
“What new threats are we facing today?” Blunt asked.
“Nothing new in here,” Fortner said without looking up from his documents. “This stuff never changes. Terrorist cells trying to assault American interests abroad. Sleeper cells recruiting heavily on the web. To be honest, I’m really disappointed at the lack of originality these days by those people who are hell bent on bringing America to its knees. This is like amateur hour.”
“Well, I’ve got one for you that I can almost guarantee you haven’t read about this week.”
Fortner stopped and looked over the top of his glasses. “Something original? Now that would be refreshing.”
“I don’t think you’re going to like this one,” Blunt said.
“Try me.”
“We have credible intelligence about an attack at tomorrow’s National Security Complex dedication.”
Fortner furrowed his brow. “Really? Someone has the cajones to make an attempt there?”
“It’s very serious.”
Fortner chuckled and shook his head. “And I welcome the opportunity to show the strength of American security.”
“I’m not sure I would laugh this one off.”
Fortner eyed Blunt. “Okay, I’m listening. Who’s behind this?”
“Obsidian.”
Fortner chuckled again. “I thought you said this was serious.”
“I did.”
“Well, Obsidian has supposedly been lying in wait for years now, and nothing they’re ever supposed to do happens. Just the name Obsidian has become the intelligence community’s wolf.”
“And I'm sure they would prefer to have it that way,” Blunt said. “Tomorrow, there's going to be a strike, and I suggest you heighten the threat level.”
“Will your star agents be there?”
“Of course, but—”
“Then I have nothing to worry about, now do I?” Fortner slapped Blunt on his knee with a file folder and nodded toward the door.
“That’s it?” Blunt asked.
“I’ve got a lot to do today in preparation for the big day tomorrow—and apparently, so does your team.”
CHAPTER 26
Langley, Virginia
National Security Complex
HAWK PACED AROUND the perimeter of the public area designated as the staging ground for the building dedication. While security was understandably tight, Hawk studied the face of every person he came in contact with working the grounds. The facility had its own set of guards who patrolled outside the gate and inside it as well. On top of that, several senators insisted upon bringing their personal sentries.
“This is a disaster just waiting to happen,” Hawk said into his coms. “If something goes down, there will be so much posturing over territory and jurisdiction that by the time they settle who’s in charge, the perpetrators will be gone.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Black said.
Hawk made eye contact with his colleague, who was surveying the other side of the late-arriving media. Several reporters hustled to set up their equipment in advance of the beginning of the ceremonies. Five minutes before the event was scheduled to start, access to the area was prohibited. An NSC staffer performed a mic check for all the television and radio stations recording the event and received thumbs up gestures from various members of the media.
“This is the two-minute warning,” the man said into the microphone before slinking off stage.
“You hear that, Alex?” Hawk asked on his coms. “We’ve got two minutes.”
“Gotcha loud and clear,” she said. Staying behind in the team’s van, she volunteered to watch a bank of monitors she gained access to after tapping into the facility’s security feeds. She reported that there wasn’t any suspicious activity to speak of.
“This all feels too easy,” Hawk said.
“Maybe Mrs. Templeton was just messing with us,” Black said.
“No,” Alex said forcefully. “She wasn’t lying. Now, it’s possible that Walsh decided to change his mind or Obsidian got cold feet. But I know what I saw—and you saw it too. She was genuinely terrified about what her son might do, not to mention what he’d
