Blunt called Hawk and Alex back to his office and briefed them on the developing situation.
“So, which one do you two want to pursue first?” Blunt asked.
Alex cocked her head to one side and furrowed her brow. “Is there even a question about this?”
“I agree,” Hawk said. “It’s got to be Madeline Young. We need all the intel we can get on Obsidian.”
“Then off you go,” Blunt said. “I’ll have to figure out a way to appease Young in the meantime.”
“That’s what you do best,” Hawk said.
CHAPTER 8
Santa Maria, Cape Verde
HAWK TUGGED ON HIS cap and looked at Alex. She smiled as she tucked a tuft of his dark locks flaring out of the side of his hat. After looking him up and down, she patted his bare chest and gave him a playful push.
“You know I don’t feel right about this,” he said while adjusting his pants.
“What? Using your body to get information?”
He nodded. “I have a policy against that, something my wife might understand.”
“You’re just using those rock hard abs of yours and sculpted chest to get Madeline Young’s attention, that’s all,” she said before patting him on his rear end.
“I feel like a piece of meat right now.”
“You’ll feel much better when you get the chance to interrogate her so we can stop Obsidian.”
“I’d rather wear a dress,” Hawk said. “That would at least be a disguise.”
Alex giggled. “Just pretend like this is a Bollywood movie and flaunt it since you’ve got it.”
Hawk grunted. “If you would’ve told me that my life as a black ops asset would include playing the role of cabana boy, I would’ve never signed up.”
“Just get out there already,” Alex said before pulling his arm and then ushering him to the door.
Hawk surveyed the area, noticing not much more than a pool and scantily clad people in and around it. Madeline was lounging near the Sol Hotel Resort pool, sipping a piña colada. The glass was almost empty, and she studied it while chewing on her lip.
“Would you look at that?” Hawk said on his coms. “This is just disgusting. She’s trying to entice some man into buying her another drink.”
“And that man is going to be you,” Alex said. “Enough already and buy her a drink.”
Hawk cozied up to the bar and ordered a piña colada for the First Lady. While he would’ve preferred to walk up to her and have a conversation, he noticed a pair of guards tucked away in the shadows. He identified three and asked Alex to keep an eye out for them.
“I see them,” she said. “As if they don’t stand out here like a sore thumb. Everybody’s in bikinis and board shorts except for the hotel staff and her security detail.”
“Are you ready?” Hawk asked.
“Born ready,” Alex said.
“All right. Here it goes.”
He snagged a stray glass on a stand next to one of the lounge chairs and waited for his drink. After the waiter handed it to Hawk, he meandered around the pool and eased into the seat next to Madeline. She wore a white bikini with a see-through shawl. Her pink sunhat was pulled down just above the top of her sunglasses. If Hawk didn’t already know she was here, he never would’ve spotted her reclining in her chair like a common tourist.
She appeared to be halfway through the latest Jodi Picoult novel and didn’t exhibit any signs of nervousness, blissfully unaware that the past she was running from was about to confront her head on.
Hawk had selected an appropriate suitor while waiting at the bar, a distinguished looking man who had announced he was about to finish his drink and then leave. All Hawk had left to do was deliver the message.
“Senhora?” Hawk said.
“Yes,” she said, placing her book face down and then turning toward Hawk.
“Senhora, that man over at the bar in the white suit asked me to deliver this drink to you,” he said.
She looked him up and down. “I’d rather it be from you.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, senhora. I’m not allowed to interact with resort patrons on that level.”
“What exactly did you think I was suggesting?”
Hawk left the tray by Madeline’s table and walked off.
“Is she talking the bait?” he asked over his coms.
“She just stood and is navigating toward the bar,” Alex said.
“Phase two,” he said. “Are you ready?”
Seconds later, Madeline glided past the bar and headed straight toward the men’s restroom. One of her security team members left the shadows and started following her. She turned around and cast a leery eye toward him. Receiving the unspoken message, he spun around and returned to his post.
Hawk shot furtive glances at Madeline as she approached the door. She poked her head inside and looked around before slipping into the restroom.
* * *
EVEN BEFORE THE PHOENIX Foundation learned the truth behind the attack on the White House, Alex wasn’t the biggest Madeline Young fan. Alex found the First Lady’s humanitarian work little more than photo ops for the press to show what a compassionate woman she was. Behind the scenes, the Secret Service agents who worked Madeline’s details described her as monstrous and narcissistic, her elite roots shining through and standing in stark contrast to the president’s rural upbringing and authentic behavior. Madeline Young once sold the evening gown she wore to the Oscars with the caveat that it must be sold for more than she bought it for. She demanded the bidding start at two hundred thousand. From that moment on, Alex dreamed of connecting on one solid punch to Madeline Young’s face.
Alex’s big opportunity had arrived.
With the men’s bathroom completely empty, Alex took up a position in the stall at the far end. She placed a pair of Hawk’s shoes on the ground to give the impression that there was indeed
