The clicking of heels alerted Alex to the fact that the First Lady had finally arrived. Her reputation as a philanderer proved to be a simple target. Alex could only assume it was the thousands of miles of ocean between Madeline and the U.S. that lured her into a sense of false security. Or maybe she lacked self-control or was confident that Falcon Sinclair would soon control the world and help her navigate a way back to the public eye in a redemption story that would inspire a new generation. The reasoning was of no consequence as Madeline Young wasn’t taking any precautions to protect her identity on foreign soil.
Alex listened as Madeline approached the final stall.
“Boo, are you in here?” Madeline asked.
An amused Hawk who was standing just outside the door chuckled over the coms.
I wonder if that means Hawk wants me to call him Boo.
Madeline finally arrived in front of Alex’s stall. “There you are. The least you could do would be to give me a signal of some sort. Now, what do you say we go somewhere really private and—”
Madeline stopped mid-sentence and froze. Despite her strains, Alex couldn’t even hear the First Lady breathing.
After a pregnant pause, the door flew open and was followed by Madeline Young. As she realized that her Boo was another woman, the First Lady went slack-jawed. Alex seized her chance, leaping off the toilet and lunging toward Madeline. She put her hands up to protect herself from the onslaught of oncoming fury. The idea was to absorb the first few blows and then strike back.
But instead of fighting, Madeline spun around and raced to safety. But Alex didn’t fly several thousand miles to return home without a single answer, much less get outwitted by a woman she’d grown to loathe. Alex scrambled across the wet tile floor and dove at Madeline’s feet. Grabbing just enough of her heels, Alex tripped up the First Lady and sent her flying backward into the bank of sinks. She finally came to rest against the brick wall, her head slamming hard into it. Madeline moaned as she tried to get up.
“Keep it down,” Alex said, her gun trained in front of her as she walked over to Madeline. “I’d suggest not giving me any reason to shoot you either.”
“What do you want?” Madeline asked, placing her hands in the air.
“I want you to tell me about Falcon Sinclair,” Alex said as she brandished her weapon.
“Put the gun away. I’ll tell you what you want to know. There’s no need to get violent.”
Alex didn’t flinch. “Talk.”
“Okay, fine. He’s rich beyond your wildest dreams, though not quite as charming as he fancies himself to—”
Alex narrowed her eyes. “Tell me something I can’t know by reading the supermarket tabloids.”
“I’m not sure what you’re after, so I’m afraid you’re going to need to be a bit more specific.”
“What is he planning?”
The First Lady shrugged. “Beats me. All I know is that he told me to come here and eventually he’d return me to the public eye.”
“Did he give you any indication of when that might be?”
“He called me last night and said within the next week he’d have a better idea of when that would happen.”
Alex jammed her gun into Madeline’s temple. “What is he planning?”
“I swear I don’t know. General Fortner told me Sinclair was working on some weapon, but I never learned anything else about it, though that wasn’t for a lack of trying.”
“Fortner didn’t trust you,” Alex said as she backed off.
“Yeah, and look where that got him. If you think you’re going to get me to cry about that, forget about it. Fortner was a means to an end for me. I needed to get out of the White House. The demands were suffocating. And Noah wasn’t about to let me live elsewhere because of how it would hurt his image.”
“I don’t believe this was just about a floundering marriage. What did Sinclair promise you?”
“Peace and prosperity, the usual.”
Alex glared at Madeline. “You’re lying.”
“Look, if you’re going to shoot me, get it over with. Otherwise, I’m leaving. I’ve told you everything I know.”
Madeline stood and tried to push her way past Alex. But she rammed the barrel of her weapon into Madeline’s chest.
“We’re not finished,” Alex said. “I could shoot you and nobody would ever know. You’re not leaving until I’m satisfied.”
Madeline held her ground. “You might shoot me, but you’ll never get away with it. I’ve told you everything I know, but if you insist on keeping me here, all I have to do is scream for my guards to rush in and kill you right here with no questions asked. So unless you’re into mutually assured destruction, I’d advise you to step aside and look elsewhere for your answers.”
“Let her go, Alex,” Black said over the coms. “We don’t need this to turn into a mess.”
Alex slid over, enabling Madeline to pass.
Once the First Lady disappeared around the corner, Alex holstered her weapon, tucking it in the back of her pants and out of sight.
“It’s clear,” Hawk said. “Let’s get out of here before Madeline gets any other ideas. We have what we need.”
“And what’s that?” she asked.
“Falcon Sinclair is developing a weapon.”
“We’ve known that for a while.”
“We’ve only assumed he was building something. Now we know. And we also know he’s planning on using it very soon.”
“That’s just a hunch,” she said.
“No,” Hawk said. “Falcon Sinclair isn’t the kind of man to patiently wait. The minute his weapon is operational, he’s going to use it. And if he’s going to have more information within the next week about when Madeline Young can return to life as normal, that means something is about to go down.”
“But what exactly?” Alex asked.
“That’s what we need to find out—and fast.”
CHAPTER 9
Washington, D.C.
BLUNT EYED THE BOTTLE of bourbon in the bottom of his desk and checked his watch. He deliberated whether it was too early to
