The bulky guard held his hands open and shook his head. “Not my problem.”
“It’s gonna be your problem tomorrow morning when your boss gets a call from the president,” Black said. “This case is top priority for the White House, and if they want answers right now, we’re going to give them to them. You catch my drift?”
The guard sighed and held out his hand. “Give me your credentials, gentlemen.”
Hawk and Black forked over their badges, which the man scanned. After a few minutes, the computer beeped.
“Sorry, Mr. … Callaway,” the guard said, “but you’re not appearing in my computer as someone authorized to access this facility.”
“What do you mean?” Hawk asked.
“I mean, according to my computer, you don’t even exit.”
Alex’s voice came through the coms. “Move closer to his terminal.”
Hawk did as he was told, edging his briefcase with a transmitter device. “Why don’t you look again?” he suggested.
The guard took a deep breath and glared at Hawk. “Last time, counselor.”
This time, the beep was a different tone. “Ah, here you are, Mr. Callaway, as well as your associate. Please, step this way.”
After another guard waved his wand around Hawk’s and Black’s bodies, they were admitted into the prison.
“Someone will meet you on the other side of that door to escort you to your prisoner,” the guard said.
Hawk and Black continued forward, opening the door once it clicked. Another guard perused their paperwork before telling them to follow him down the hallway.
They were almost to the end of corridor when another guard shouted at them, making them all freeze.
“Hold up there,” another man called. “We’re not done yet.”
Hawk swallowed hard as he turned around to see who was thwarting his entry into the prison.
CHAPTER 33
Sydney, Australia
FALCON SINCLAIR PLACED his hands on the railing from the top deck of his yacht, Proud and Pretentious. He gave a polite wave to a small motor boat struggling against the outgoing tide in the middle of Port Jackson. As he strained to see in the fading light, he was almost certain one of the passengers was make an obscene gesture toward him.
Enjoy your pathetic life.
Sinclair turned toward the dock and watched his last guests for the evening disembark and head home. The pressure cooker of conducting a scheme to seize world power was exhausting, and he got a much-needed break. With his mind still loose from the considerable amount of alcohol he’d consumed earlier in the evening, he wondered for a fleeting moment what anyone would think of him doing a cannon ball over the side of his boat. He snapped back to reality when Madeline Young wrapped her arms around his midsection.
“Is everyone gone?” he asked in a suggestive tone.
She laughed. “I wish. Randy Parker is still here along with Wagner and Caron. Apparently, they have something they want to discuss with you, so you’ll have to wait.”
She winked at him before heading in the direction of his cabin.
Sinclair watched her for a moment, admiring her svelte figure sashaying away.
“Sir, we’re ready for you below deck,” Parker said, interrupting Sinclair’s ogling.
Sinclair sighed. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
He closed his eyes, burying his head in his hands. The night could’ve had a fantastic ending. Instead, he was stuck dealing with business. And for a fleeting second, he wondered if what he was doing was worth it.
What good are the spoils if you can’t enjoy them?
But then again, Sinclair wondered what there was left to conquer. Beautiful women? He could have as many of those as he wanted. Fancy houses? He’d lost count of how many he owned and where in the world they were. Ultimate power? That was the only thing lacking.
Damn right, it’s worth it.
Sinclair spun and followed Parker downstairs. The men were all seated around a table, playing a game of cards.
The Obsidian mastermind threw his hands in the air as he surveyed the table. “What’s this? You didn’t think to deal me in?”
“You were busy,” Caron said.
Wagner puffed on a cigar while mindlessly making quarter-turns with his empty glass.
“I told them we had more business to conduct and to put the cards away,” Parker said.
Sinclair held up his hand in Parker’s direction. “I’m not interested in your hall monitor report. Let’s get on with it, shall we?”
“Of course, sir,” Parker said as he adjusted the angle of his laptop screen. “What do you want to know?”
“First of all,” Sinclair began. “I’d like to know how things are going with our Freedom Homes downloads.”
Parker sucked in a long breath through his teeth. “Probably not as well as you’d like, sir.”
“Give me the numbers.”
Parker read off a list of all the Freedom Homes downloads from the various app platforms. Sinclair almost choked on the drink he’d just poured.
“That’s it?” he asked, his eyes bulging.
“Yeah, that’s all we’ve got so far,” Parker said. “I think it’s a solid start.”
“Those are abysmal numbers. We need to escalate this.”
Parker winced. “Respectfully, sir, I think we should give it more time.”
“That’s why this is my yacht and you’re working for me,” Sinclair said. “Start the next phase.”
“But, sir, we need more time,” Parker protested.
“Get it done, or I’ll find someone else who will.”
Parker nodded as he closed his computer. He scurried up the steps and off the boat.
Wagner looked up at Sinclair. “Be careful. That kid spooks easily. You need him.”
Sinclair waved dismissively. “Those bean counters are a dime a dozen. He just needs to stop questioning me and do what I tell him to.”
“At least let him think he came up with a good idea,” Caron said. “It’s how you keep them in your fold.”
“Well, I’m not keeping either of you in my fold tonight,” Sinclair said. “It’s time this dinner cruise came to an end.”
Caron
