“This isn’t a joke,” Alex said.
Daniels furrowed his brow. “Oh, you’re serious. Wow. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Based on what we’ve read in the tabloids,” Hawk said, “we’re kind of guessing that you and Sinclair aren’t exchanging Christmas cards any more. So, maybe you might be inclined to help us.”
Hawk rarely, if ever, spelled out his motivation and thinking to an asset he was trying to acquire, but he sensed it was the right move.
“You’re right about one thing,” Daniels said, holding up his index finger. “I can’t stand that little sonofabitch, and I’d love to make him pay in any way possible.”
“So, you’ll help us?” Hawk asked.
Daniels nodded. “What do you want to know?”
“What’s his end game?” Alex asked.
Daniels smiled and pointed at Alex. “I like you. Straight to the point.”
She shrugged. “No point in wasting any more of your time.”
“All right, if you like it short and sweet, I’ll give it to you that way,” Daniels said. “Sinclair wants to be the most powerful man in the world.”
“Isn’t he already one of the richest?” Alex asked.
Daniels shook his head. “Money doesn’t always equate to power, at least not the kind Sinclair wants.”
“And what kind is that?” Hawk asked.
“Total and complete. He’s uber idealist, maybe even utopian, to be more specific. When I was working with him, he never shied away from expressing how he would change the world if he was in charge of it. But to me, his plan always sounded draconian.”
“Did you ever share with him how you felt about his views?” Hawk asked.
“Once. We were at some fundraiser gala in the Hamptons, and I had too much to drink. My lips got a little loose because I knew better than to challenge him. He didn’t handle my pushback well. He blew up, making a big scene. That was the beginning of the end for our partnership.”
“What was draconian about them?” Alex asked.
“He basically wants the world to live in a bubble where artificial intelligence can meet people’s needs without them even having to ask.”
“And what’s so terrible about that?” she pressed.
“Aside from the gross violation of personal liberties, the method by which he wants to attain this information is disconcerting.”
She cocked her head to one side. “Please explain.”
“He wants to know everything you do every minute of the day. The words you say, the things you buy, the activities you partake in, the people you interact with—he wants to feed it all into an algorithm to help determine what you need and how best to serve it to you. If Sinclair were to have his way, nothing will ever be private again.”
“That’s not going to go over well in freedom-loving countries,” Hawk said.
“Exactly, which is why he plans to accomplish this without you knowing,” Daniels said. “Sinclair won’t be disclosing the ways in which he spies on the average citizen. And before you know it, his companies will know everything about you.”
“So, what about the space travel thing?” Alex asked.
Daniels huffed a soft laugh through his nose. “That just expands his platform and makes everyone believe he’s some kind of innovative thinker. But he’s more or less creating a spy network that you can’t opt out of.”
“What about Sinclair himself?” Hawk asked. “What’s he really like?”
“He’s a recluse, immensely private. He bought an entire island near the Great Barrier Reef just to elude the press which was stalking his every move. Needless to say, he’s very insulated, keeping his inner circle tight and rarely letting strangers in.”
“Any weaknesses?” Alex asked.
“Not really, although he does like his women. Perhaps after his third marriage, he got tired of divvying up his fortune every time in divorce proceedings and decided to just woo any woman he desired.”
“We’re aware of his exploits in that department,” Alex said. “But anything else?”
“He likes his cars like his women—fast. So, you might spot him at a Formula-1 race. He likes to be photographed with some of his favorite drivers, but not publicly, meeting with them in private. I’m not sure I’d consider it a weakness, but it might be one of the few ways you’ll be able to penetrate his inner circle without drawing much suspicion.”
“Good to know,” Hawk said. “Anything else we should know about him?”
“Not much else,” Daniels said. “He’s a vindictive man, so be careful. He holds long grudges and never misses an opportunity to get revenge. So, be careful and good luck. You’re going to need it.”
Hawk and Alex thanked Daniels for his time before leaving.
“This isn’t going to be easy,” Hawk said, breaking the silence as they drove down the mountain.
Alex tapped away on her phone, ignoring Hawk.
“Hey, Alex,” Hawk said, waving his hand in front of her face in a failed attempt to get her attention. “Earth to Alex.”
“Got it,” she said, a smile leaking across her lips.
“Got what?” he asked.
“I know how we’re going to get close to Sinclair.”
CHAPTER 7
Washington, D.C.
PRESIDENT NOAH YOUNG scanned his speech as he approached the lectern. Flashbulbs exploded, filling the room with strobe lighting and the whir of clicking cameras. A murmur from the press corps rose to a roar before Young placed both hands in the air in a gesture to silence the noise. Once everyone settled down, he took a deep breath and looked up.
Young bristled at the idea of giving a briefing to journalists, but his campaign manager insisted, convincing the president that he’d have an opportunity to look very presidential if he handled the event professionally. So, Young acquiesced to the request. As he stared out at the journalists and television personalities anxiously awaiting an explanation, he wondered if he’d made the wrong choice.
But the time to turn back had already passed. Young didn’t have a choice now.
“Over the last seventy-two hours, the news cycle has been rife with rumors and startling stories,” Young said. “And as President, I owe the truth to the American
