“In that case, let me offer you a sincere apology,” Blunt said. “I never should have made a decision based out of fear of how you’d react. Can you trust me again?”
She sighed and crossed her arms. “I hope so.”
“And look, I’m not a marriage counselor, but it might be a good idea if you and Hawk—”
“Save it,” Hawk and Alex said in unison. They both glanced at each other and broke into a grin.
“You’re still probably sleeping on the couch tonight,” she said.
Before Hawk could respond, an alarm on Alex’s phone started buzzing. She picked it up and pumped her fist triumphantly.
“What is it?” Hawk asked.
“This is exactly why you shouldn’t have kept me out of the loop and should know you can trust me with anything,” Alex said, showing her cell screen to Hawk and Blunt.
“What’s all that gibberish mean?” Blunt asked.
“That gibberish is code I wrote to search for any aliases that my brother—”
“Half brother,” Blunt said.
Alex smiled. “Yes, I wrote a code to search for any aliases my half-brother uses so we could track him down.”
“Where is he?” Hawk asked.
“Let’s go have a look,” Alex said before dashing out of the room and toward her computer terminal.
Blunt and Hawk followed closely behind her.
“That went better than I’d hoped,” Blunt said in a whisper to Hawk.
“I don’t want to hear your gloating right now,” Hawk said. “I’m obviously still in the dog house, and who knows when I’ll get out of it.”
Hawk stood back and watched as Alex hammered away on the keyboard to call up the information related to her alert. He loved working with her, especially when they had good chemistry. But given all that had just transpired, he hoped that Blunt’s idea to keep Alex in the dark about the shadow mission of Samuels didn’t cause everything to unravel. All Hawk could do was trust that their relationship was bigger than a spy spat.
“Where is he?” asked Blunt, who started drumming his fingers on her desk.
“Well, would you look at that?” Alex said, tapping her monitor. “Good ole Max Ellington is back from the dead. He bought a burner phone in New York City that’s easily tracked. And guess who he called first?”
“The Russian embassy?” Blunt asked.
“That’s a lazy guess,” Alex said. “He called A Hand Up and our good friend, Mr. Reece.”
“If we weren’t sure before, there’s no doubt that charity is shady,” Hawk said.
“But that’s not all,” Alex said.
Blunt squinted as he stooped over and stared at the screen. “There’s more?”
“I just got a printout of their conversation,” Alex said.
Blunt went slack-jawed. “How’d you—”
“I’ve still got some good friends at the NSA,” Alex said with a wry grin. “According to this message, they’re meeting this morning.”
Blunt snapped his fingers. “In that case, I want the two of you on a train to New York by noon. See if you can press Reece for information about one Max Ellington.”
“What about Black?” Hawk asked. “We might need him for support if things get messy.”
Blunt shook his head. “I’m confident you two can handle Reece. Besides, I’ve got another assignment for Black.”
Hawk waited until Blunt left the room before saying anything. “Can you run home with me and get everything you need?”
Alex nodded. “Yes, but you’re not off the hook just yet.”
Hawk’s phone buzzed, and he ignored it. When Alex wasn’t looking, he snuck a peek at the screen and then quickly shoved the device back into his pocket.
CHAPTER 10
BLACK DESCENDED THE STEPS as he entered Off the Record, a cocktail bar in the basement of the Hay-Adams Hotel and frequented by Washington’s elite. He recognized a pair of senators from opposing parties huddled at a table in the back while sharing a drink. According to his watch, it was only 4:00 p.m., but the place was nearly full.
A man approached Black and slapped him on the back before draping an arm over his shoulder. Black scowled as he looked down at the man.
“I’ve been watching you,” the man said. “You’ve been here less than a minute and still don’t have a drink in your hand. It’s obvious that you’re not from around here.”
“What makes you say that?” Black asked.
“If you were, you’d already be halfway through your first drink. It’s the only way to keep your sanity while working in Washington.”
“If you need to drink to stay sane, perhaps you should consider a change in profession.”
The man scrunched up his nose and shook his head slowly. “I’ve been in this town too damn long to switch now, and I sure as hell won’t be able to find any other work after being a lobbyist. We’re right up there with lawyers and IRS accountants as the most despised people on the planet.”
Black was annoyed with the man’s intrusion but decided he could still be helpful. “Have you seen Kitty Tiller here today?”
The man smiled. “Oh, now I understand why you’re here.”
Black sighed. “Have you seen her or not?”
The man held his glass out and pointed toward the bar. “A few minutes ago, she was sitting on the other side over there.”
“Who knew lobbyists could still be so helpful,” Black said, patting the man on the shoulder to earn a sideways glance. Black strode across the room toward the other side of the bar in search of Kitty.
Sitting on a stool at the far end against the wall was Kitty. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her fist as her eyes danced across the face of the neighboring man whose arms swung wildly as he talked. The moment he paused, she closed her eyes and gave a polite laugh before directing her attention to the margarita in front of her.
Black found a table nearby and ordered a glass of water. He watched Kitty and her suitor for the next half hour. Eventually, she held up her finger and asked if he would excuse her.
Black watched her disappear around the corner in search of
