“Why? Is something wrong?”
“The truth, Noah. I need it right now.”
Young shrugged. “You don’t think I’ve been purposefully keeping this from you, do you?”
“Quite frankly, I don’t know what to think at this point.”
“I have a country to run, you know. It wasn’t all that big of a deal really.”
“If it’s not that big of a deal, it won’t be a big deal to tell me,” Blunt said before he bit down hard on his cigar. “We have some dangling loose ends that need to be tied up before we can go any further with our investigation of a few individuals. Shane Samuels is one of those loose ends.”
Young slapped his thighs and took a deep breath. “Where to begin. Well, Madeline’s cousin is Shane’s uncle. She’s known his family for years. I have a picture of him at his high school graduation. I wouldn’t say he’s been like a son to me, but definitely like a favorite nephew.”
“What made you think he was qualified to work with my team?” Blunt asked, eyeing Young closely.
“The FBI dismissed him because of inner office politics, but before that he was one of their best agents. So, I helped him out by getting the CIA’s black ops division to hire him for certain missions where they needed help. He was doing really dangerous stuff but didn’t care. Shane just loved the work.”
“And so that’s your criteria for throwing your weight around and landing a position for someone like that? He didn’t exactly possess the kind of stability you’d expect from a person in his position. To be really honest, he was erratic at times and scared me.”
“But he got the job done,” Young said.
“Sometimes, but at what cost? He’s not the kind of person you want working for you.”
“He was perfect for his assignment,” Young said.
“Which was what exactly?”
Hesitating to respond, Young turned his focus outside the window of the car as it rolled through the streets of Washington.
“I’d heard Brady Hawk was a bit of a loose canon and needed to be reined in. So, I asked Samuels to help us. We needed an outside perspective on Hawk.”
“We?”
“Madeline was helping me with some of those decisions at the time,” Young said. “That’s why I strongly recommended Samuels. I knew he was capable of doing something you couldn’t.”
“Which was what exactly?”
“Making an assessment without letting your emotions get in the way. Look, I get it. It’s never easy to separate our relationships with our assignments. Sometimes, we just have to trust people that can survey a situation without all that emotional baggage attached.”
“I’m sure you know that your last comment is bathed in irony.”
“And I’m not the least bit bothered by it,” Young said. “And for what it’s worth, he came back to me and gave me a full assessment of your team. He said everyone serving under you are dedicated team members and wholly committed to serving their country no matter the cost.”
“Next time, please give me a heads up about those types of things,” Blunt said.
But that’s not what he was thinking. He knew exactly who the traitor was on his team during that time—Shane Samuels. Blunt clenched his fists and contemplated taking a swing at the president. No matter how ill-advised it might’ve been, Blunt would’ve felt better about it all, even if just for a moment.
The limo pulled to a stop around the back of the Kennedy Center. Big Earv got out first, followed by Young and the rest of the secret service members.
Blunt waited until the limo parked away from the underground entrance before he exited the vehicle.
Shane Samuels was spying on Blunt’s team—and the first lady was undoubtedly behind it. Even before Blunt knew about the existence of Obsidian, it had an agent who had managed to infiltrate the U.S.’s most top secret special ops unit.
Blunt felt a wave of paranoia sweep over him. He wasn’t sure if there was a single person he could trust outside his team—and that even included Randy Wood.
Once Blunt returned home, he called the team and told them what Young had said. Blunt also gave them specific instructions on how to clean up the mess in New York.
It was time to take action.
CHAPTER 17
Washington, D.C.
TWO DAYS LATER, Hawk slapped a copy of The New York Times down on the conference room table before settling into his chair. He was the last one to the room as usual despite Alex’s repeated pleas to make a more concerted effort to be punctual.
“Would you like for me to read this aloud?” Hawk asked Blunt while pointing at the newspaper.
Blunt held his hands out wide. “By all means, I’d love to hear it.”
Hawk read Times’ reporter Camille Youngblood’s report about how Milton Reese, the non-profit director of the New York City branch of A Hand Up was found dead floating in the Hudson River. The story also detailed how the NYPD worked in conjunction with the FBI to foil a plot to bomb the city’s subway system. The FBI agent running point on the case said that Reese planned to act alone and that there was no reason to fear an attack.
When Hawk finished reading, he gave Blunt a sideways glance. “The subway system? How did they determine that?”
“They didn’t,” Blunt said. “I told the FBI what to say. We needed to eliminate Reese without drawing suspicion that we were on to them. It might make Obsidian a little more cautious, but they won’t be quaking in their boots after that last piece of news.”
“And Randy Wood didn’t give you a hard time about this?” Black asked.
“Randy never goes easy on me about anything,” Blunt said. “I had to listen to him vent for a while, explaining how we probably ruined the entire operation. But by the time he got everything off his chest, he wanted to make sure my team was
