“What is it?” Alex asked as she snatched the cell from Hawk’s hands.
Hawk ushered Alex and Black to the far corner of the room to discuss their next steps.
Alex read the text in a whisper. “Are you kidding me?” she said when she was finished.
“That doesn’t sound like Blunt,” Black said.
Hawk sighed. “It’s hard to disagree with you. The only reasonable explanation I can come up with is that he’s just following orders.”
“Whose orders?” Alex asked. “The head of Obsidian?”
“Randy Wood is one of the only people who could tell Blunt to pass along an order like that and he’d comply,” Hawk said.
“Well, it’s too late for all that,” Black said. “We need to move on this interrogation of Mr. Reese if we’re going to glean anything from it.”
“Agreed,” Hawk snapped. “And Blunt still hasn’t responded to my follow-up message requesting direction on what to do next, which means he doesn’t want to know what we’re about to do.”
“And what did you have in mind?” Black asked. “I’d be happy to pull the trigger on this traitor.”
Hawk took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “My best guess is that Blunt might not want us removing this piece of garbage because the CIA is working some angle we didn’t know about.”
“So we keep everything normal then?” Alex asked. “Just act like nothing happened? You think Reese is going to comply with our wishes and not signal to someone that he’s been compromised?”
Hawk shook his head. “No, but maybe we keep up a ruse as long as possible until we figure out exactly what Obsidian has planned next.”
“And how do you intend to do that?” Black asked.
“Just follow my lead,” Hawk said.
He strode across the room toward Reese, who was tethered to a chair. Alex and Black joined, forming an intimidating line in front of their captive.
Hawk turned to Alex. “Did you message the receptionist?”
She nodded. “She’s not coming back today or tomorrow.”
Hawk smiled. “Good. Now we can get down to business.”
Reese squirmed in his seat, fighting against the duct tape that kept him in place. “If you think I’m going to help you, you’re delusional.”
“I’m not going to ask twice,” Hawk said.
Black reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigar cutter. He held it up in front of Reese’s face so he could see it. “Do you know what this is?”
Reese nodded and shied away from Black, who intruded into the prisoner’s personal space.
“This is called a guillotine,” Black said, forging ahead despite Reese’s response. “I’m just going to slide one of your fingers in here like so and then snip—your finger is detached from your body. Now, if you wonder how effective this device is, the last guy I interrogated who refused is now called Knuckles because that’s all he has left.”
“Now,” Hawk said as he rubbed his hands together, “Mr. Reese, now would be a good time to reconsider your unwillingness to help us.”
Reese squeezed his eyes shut and scrunched up his nose. “Okay, okay. I’ll help you.”
“Good choice,” Hawk said as Black snipped the end off a cigar he’d pulled out of his pocket. The sound of the metal slicing off the tip of the stogie resulted in a shudder from Reese.
“Let’s get down to business,” Black said. “Time to start talking.”
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, Hawk and Alex ventured back to A Hand Up’s offices, while Black stayed at their hotel with Reese. Black expressed his displeasure with being a glorified babysitter, a complaint that went ignored by his two colleagues.
While questioning Reese the previous night, Alex captured his speech patterns and created a voice simulator for Hawk to use while at the office. He immediately put the device to use by telling Reese’s secretary administrative assistant to take the rest of the week off with pay, an order she sounded thrilled to obey.
Hawk went to work combing through all of Reese’s emails to determine what exactly Obsidian was planning, while Alex went to work digging through A Hand Up’s servers to see if she could find anything of interest.
At 10:30 a.m., Hawk took a call from Reese’s direct line. Alex, who was seated on the other side of the desk, started the tracing procedure.
“How are things looking on your end?” the man asked, dispensing of any formalities.
“Good so far. And you?” Hawk asked.
“Never better.”
Relieved that his voice was apparently a sufficient match that whoever the caller was didn’t hesitate to continue the conversation, Hawk sighed.
“Is there anything I need to know about?” Hawk asked.
“As far as I can tell, we’re on target to hit all our deadlines. I don’t see anything slowing us down, at least when it comes to elements that are within our control.”
“Do you anticipate anything happening between now and Tuesday?”
“I don’t think so. If everything goes as planned, we’ll be ready to unleash the project then. Just have everything in place by Monday afternoon, and we’ll be fine.”
“That won’t be a problem,” Hawk said.
“That’s what I like to hear. Just shoot me a text when you get the package so I can rest easy knowing we haven’t had any delays.”
“You got it. Talk to you then.”
Hawk hung up and looked wide-eyed at Alex. “What package are they talking about?”
“You got me,” Alex said. “But the way that caller spoke about it, I don’t think he was talking about an order of pens and notepads for the supply closet.”
“Did you get a trace on that number?” Hawk asked.
She shook her head. “Whoever set up the routing protocol for that man is highly skilled. Following that line had me pinging all over the world. There wasn’t anything definitive I could determine.”
“Are you sure?” Hawk asked, his brows arching as if he were begging for her answer to be different this time.
She nodded. “Sure
