The Shadow Hunter (The Phoenix Chronicles Book 1) Page 8

  “I’m going to hold you to that,” Mallory said. “And I’m sending the files as we speak.”

  The two women ended the call, and Alex turned to look at what mischief John Daniel was getting into. At first when she scanned the room, she didn’t see him as she was searching along the floor. That’s why she didn’t notice him standing on top of the counter preparing to dive headlong into a pile of pillows he’d amassed. He wore a cape and goggles and held his hands out in front of him.

  “John Daniel, what do you think you’re doing?” she asked as soon as she noticed him.

  She jumped out of her chair and ran toward him, but he’d already jumped. He looked at her with a devious smile before his soft landing gave way to a giggling fit. Alex stopped and joined him, laughing at his dangerous game. He was too much like his father, Alex thought, and she decided that letting John Daniel spread his wings—both figuratively and literally—was a better way to keep her sane than worrying over his every move.

  She sat down at her computer and opened up the file Mallory had sent.

  At first, Alex wasn’t sure what she was looking at, but as the hours ticked by, she noticed something.

  Her eyes widened as she made the connection.

  They’re never going to believe this.

  CHAPTER 13

  Washington, D.C.

  PRESIDENT NORRIS ENTERED the situation room at the White House and took a deep breath. While he’d been inside this room a handful of times before, the stakes had never been this high. During his tenure, the world at large had been at peace. There had been a few clashes between tribes in Africa, a few separatist groups stirring up trouble with Russia, a terrorist bombing in Paris. But that was it. Given all that had transpired during the previous two administrations, none of those conflicts were hardly worth mentioning.

  However, today was different. A sense of angst and uncertainty marked the mood in the room. Huddled in a nearby corner were the Joint Chiefs of Staff, while other cabinet members stood clustered against the far wall.

  Once everyone recognized the president, their conversations stopped.

  “Let’s have a seat, everyone, and see if we can figure this thing out,” Norris said, taking his seat at the head of the table.

  He scanned everyone seated at the table. With a slew of advisors sitting alongside military personnel, he knew it wouldn’t be easy to get them to reach a consensus about anything. Fortunately, he wasn’t trying to get everyone to agree. He simply wanted to hear what was happening so he could make an informed decision. After all, he was the one with the most to gain or lose by the fallout of his ultimate order.

  Barbara Wheeler, Norris’s highly diplomatic Secretary of State, clasped her hands in front of her and cleared her throat before speaking. “Mr. President, I believe what’s going on here is a lot of saber rattling. Kim Yong-ju would only know how to give the order to fire a nuclear weapon if it was on the video games he reportedly plays around the clock. I’m sure this is all just a big smoke screen.”

  Norris stroked his chin. “Smoke screen for what?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe they don’t want us to pay attention to the nuclear reactor they’re building in the northeastern part of the country.”

  “Is that really happening?” he asked.

  “As we speak, though from everything I’ve read, they have no idea what they’re doing.”

  James Miller, the vice-chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, leaned forward in his chair and raised his hand to speak. Norris nodded at Miller.

  “I believe what Madam Secretary Wheeler is trying to say is that Kim Yong-ju couldn’t find his own ass with a map,” Miller said. “But we don’t have any intel that can confirm or deny that North Korea is in possession of nuclear warheads. Therefore, I’d recommend that we launch a pre-emptive strike.”

  “If they’re bluffing, we’d just be starting another conflict that no American wants,” Norris said.

  Brent Gaston, the Naval Chief of Operations, templed his fingers and shifted in his seat. “None of us want another conflict, including General Miller,” he said. “But this one might be necessary. We need to make sure the tail isn’t wagging the dog here. A quick strike would remind Kim Yong-ju who’s the real world power today and end these shenanigans. I think if we used a strong show of force, he’d back down and think twice about puffing his chest out, even if he never intended to throw a punch.”

  Wheeler shook her head. “I think that’s a mistake. North Korea should be ignored until they decide to play with the rest of the world. Wasting our military’s time on them only validates Kim Yong-ju’s opinion of himself. He’s not interested in war, but just being recognized as a member of the world’s leadership might be enough for him.”

  Norris scowled. “But we can’t let this become a precedent that every rogue leader will follow in the future.”

  “Of course not, sir,” Wheeler said. “We can find a way to help Kim Yong-ju save face while not appearing to bow to his tantrums.”

  “And how do you propose we do that?” Norris asked.

  “I have a few ideas, starting with an initiative we’ve launched with several countries in that part of the world to work together on innovative technology ideas,” she said. “We could invite North Korea with the caveat that they back down from the war mongering rhetoric and stop threatening our ships in that region.”

  Miller tapped his pen on the table and exaggerated a sigh. “Sir, diplomacy doesn’t work with the North Koreans, especially Kim Yong-ju. If you let this slide, he’ll try to play you again. And every time he shares a message or a video that hints that he might have a nuclear weapon or a WMD, we’ll be jumping. If you let this game begin, I can promise you that it’ll be something that haunts you all the way to the ballot box next November.”

  Norris stood and paced behind his seat as he considered both sides.

  “Anyone else have a different perspective they’d like to share?” he asked.

  A few other cabinet members offered support of either Wheeler or Miller’s ideas, but nothing fresh or innovative emerged.

  “This situation can’t be that black and white,” Norris said. “There has to be a way we can keep the peace without instigating a protracted conflict.”

  Miller chuckled.

  “Is something funny, General?” Norris asked.

  “You act as if anything about a conflict with North Korea would last any length of time. We could send a wave of bombers into Pyongyang, and we’d never hear from Kim Yong-ju or any other North Korean leaders for a long time. I’d say we could send them back to the Stone Age, but I’m pretty sure they’re still living in it.”

  Norris waved off Miller. “As the world’s peacekeepers, we have a tremendous responsibility to respect every nation’s sovereignty, not to mention make sure that our conflicts remain between military might and avoid civilian casualties at all costs.”

  “Sir, with all due respect, if North Korea has nuclear capabilities, your virtuous stance won’t bring much comfort to the thousands of Americans that will die and the millions more that will be grieving such devastating loss.”

  “At the end of the day, everyone in this administration has to sleep with the choices we make,” Norris shot back. “And defaulting toward war every single time we sense a threat would be a grave mistake.”

  Miller placed his hands palm down on the table and pursed his lips. “Sir, exactly how many times have I recommended we engage the enemy since I’ve been a part of your Joint Chiefs of Staff?”

  Norris shrugged. “I guess I can’t remember any specific occasion.”

  “That’s because I never have,” Miller said. “I didn’t suggest taking action when the Russian carrier ships were cruising closer than they should have to Alaska. I didn’t suggest action when China was caught selling weapons to militants in the Middle East. And I didn’t even think it was worth a ten-minute discussion when Venezuela chose to announce it was developing nuclear capabilities to def
end itself against the ‘imperial aggressors to the north.’ So, if I’m suggesting we take some action, it’s because the situation warrants it.”

  Wheeler shook her head. “This is what I was talking about earlier, sir. The general has been searching for a reason to justify those huge military expenditures in the most recent budget.”

  Miller set his jaw and glared at Wheeler. “Our military is why Americans don’t worry about getting bombed in the middle of the night and experiencing a nuclear winter. We’re keeping this country safe, and I’m sorry if you think that’s a waste of taxpayer dollars. But I happen to think it’s the best money we spend.”

  Wheeler narrowed her eyes and leaned forward. “Now you listen to me, I—”

  “Knock it off, you two,” Norris said. “Do I need to remind everyone that the reason you’re here is to advise me? You give me your ideas and suggestions, and then I decide. That’s how it works. You’ve both made your position clear, and now I’m going to tell you what we’re going to do.”

  A hush fell over the room, the tension was palpable. Norris took a deep breath and then sat down.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said. “General Miller, I want you to put together a plan for a pre-emptive strike, and I want it on my desk by four o’clock this afternoon. Understand?”

  A faint smile crept across Miller’s lips. “Yes, sir.”

  “Secretary Wheeler, you can work on a backup plan in case I change my mind,” Norris said. “As much as I don’t want to do this, I feel like it’s the best course of action. Now, everyone, let’s get to work.”

  General Miller nodded at the president and gave him a faint smile along with a fist pump. Wheeler, however, remained in her seat.

  “Barbara, are you all right?” Norris asked her as he prepared to leave the room.

  She bit her lip and stared at the wall in front of her. “You can’t listen to Miller. He’ll lead you astray.”

  “Come on, Barbara. You know what I’m facing here. I don’t want the last thing people remember before they go to the polls later this year is that I’m weak on national security.”

  She sighed. “You can’t use polling numbers to govern. The people put you in this office to make decisions, not bend whichever way the wind blows. Grow a backbone and be a leader. And that starts with you standing up to Miller. If you’re worried about how people will perceive you now, just wait until you put us in another Vietnam—an unpopular, unwinnable, and unnecessary war.”

  “Like I said, Barbara, write up a plan and if I like it better than Miller’s, I reserve the right to change my mind.”

  “I could give you a million ideas,” she said. “And all of them will be better than trying to win a contest between two leaders trying to show who’s more macho.”

  Norris interlocked his fingers behind his head and looked at the ceiling. “You really think North Korea is bluffing?”

  “We don’t have any actionable intel, which tells me that Kim Yong-ju is probably leaking that information just to get you all riled up. He’s going to play you for the fool while gun-slinger Miller coaxes you on.”

  He paused for a moment before answering. Barbara’s critique was hard to take, but he knew she was right. It’s why he appointed her to the position. She’d never minced words before when she was serving in the Senate and becoming the Secretary of State hadn’t changed her.

  “Okay, I’ll sleep on it,” Norris said. “And just know that as of right now, I’m still undecided about what to do, but your way seems to make more sense.”

  “And I know that’s what you’d rather do,” she said. “You always lead better from a position of strength rather than one of fear.”

  With that statement, Wheeler got up and exited the situation room, leaving Norris by himself with his thoughts.

  He sat with Wheeler’s words for a few minutes before getting up. He knew she was right.

  All he needed from her now was a good excuse to tell Miller to shove his dreams of a conflict with North Korea.

  CHAPTER 14

  Central Siberia, Russia

  HAWK STARED WIDE-EYED at Andrei Orlovsky, who templed his fingers as he surveyed his prisoner. Orlovsky wore a tailored gray suit and a pair of black Salvatore Ferragamo moccasins. As he paced around the room, the scent of too much Italian cologne wafted behind him. The once world-renowned illegal arms dealer was still portraying himself as a VIP from Venice, like a 45-year-old man still bragging about his days as the star quarterback while working at a car wash. If Orlovsky hadn’t been responsible for thousands of deaths, Hawk would’ve felt sorry for him.

  “The infamous Brady Hawk,” Orlovsky said as a faint smile spread across his face, “delivered to me as if you fell out of the heavens. This is a most pleasant surprise to my day.”

  “It’s only going to get worse from here.”

  Orlovsky chuckled as he walked over to the corner of the room where a liquor caddy rested on a serving table. He poured a pair of drinks and then handed one to Hawk.

  “It’s vodka,” Orlovsky said as he sat down in a chair across from Hawk. “It’s a custom for old friends to drink together in Russia.”

  “Who said anything about us being friends?”

  The two men who’d brought Hawk to Orlovsky’s compound stood against the wall near the door. They both tried to stifle laughs. Orlovsky turned slowly toward them and glared.

  “Do you find his comment funny?” Orlovsky asked.

  Their smiles disappeared as they turned silent.

  Orlovsky threw back his drink and slammed it down on the table. He smacked his lips and shook his head while studying the glass.

  “It’s like nectar from the gods,” Orlovsky said. “I hope you enjoy Russia’s finest.”

  Hawk placed his glass on the table as well without having tasted a drop. “I’m more of a scotch guy.”

  Orlovsky shrugged. “We drink vodka in Russia.”

  Hawk glanced around the room, admiring the decor. What the house lacked in location, it made up for it in style and craftsmanship. The crown molding contained ornate carvings of soldiers engaged in battle. And from Hawk’s first glance, the scenes depicted appeared unique.

  “Quite a place you’ve got,” Hawk said. “It’s much nicer than your home in Venice, but it’s in Siberia, so I’m not sure it’s worth it. By the way, what are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?”

  Orlovsky pulled a cigarette case out of his coat pocket and ignited the tobacco. He took a long drag before exhaling the smoke through his nose.

  “I have the same question for you,” he said. “At least my excuse is that I’m Russian.”

  “A Russian with connections doesn’t live in the middle of Siberia unless he’s either disgraced or hiding.”

  Orlovsky grunted. “You know little about Russia and even less about me.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “I’d love to, but I need to take care of a little business.”

  Orlovsky reached into his coat pocket and produced a gun. With a cigarette dangling from his lips, he trained his weapon on Hawk’s head. Orlovsky moved closer as Hawk placed his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender.

  “Settle down,” Hawk said. “I’m not here for you. Your men brought me here, remember?”

  Orlovsky jammed the barrel of the gun into Hawk’s head. “Do you have any idea what I had to endure while being held prisoner by the CIA?”

  Hawk steadied his breathing, trying to remain calm. For a moment, he wondered if he’d be able to move fast enough to snatch the gun from Orlovsky, kill him, and shoot the other two men at the back of the room. But they were both armed, clutching their weapons. Then there were the armed men patrolling the perimeter of the house to consider. The odds were terrible, though they would give him a better chance of survival if Orlovsky’s trigger finger twitched.

  Orlovsky backed away, but his gun was still pointed at Hawk’s head.

  “It was horrible,” Orlovsky said. “Inhumane eve
n. I didn’t even get three meals each day. My bed felt like it was made out of rocks. And I was awakened at odd hours of the night and interrogated by angry men who beat me over and over.”

  Hawk sighed and shook his head, remaining quiet.

  “Don’t give me that look,” Orlovsky said. “This is just the kind of arrogant thing I would expect from an American.”

  “I feel sorry for you, Andrei,” Hawk said. “You blame others, completely unaware that you are at fault.”

  “Me? At fault? I am innocent.”

  Hawk huffed a short laugh through his nose. “Selling weapons of mass destruction to terrorists who use them to kill thousands of innocent people hardly qualifies as innocent.”

  “How do you Americans say it? ‘A man has to make a living’?”

  “There are other ways to earn a decent wage that don’t include finding buyers for stolen weapons.”

  “Someone has to do it.”

  “Based on finding you out here, I’m sure someone else is doing it these days,” Hawk said as he scanned the room again. “You’re not interacting with many terrorists out here.”

  Orlovsky took another long drag before removing the cigarette from his mouth and slowly releasing the smoke. “I’ve diversified my interests, which leads me to the reason we’re having this conversation. I need a new driver.”

  Hawk furrowed his brow. “A driver? For what? You’ve got one standing behind you.”

  Orlovsky wheeled around and fired a bullet in the head of each of the men standing against the wall. They slid down to the ground and collapsed.

  “They were useless,” Orlovsky said. “They picked you up because they wanted to frame you for what they did to Maxim Popov and his men.”

  Hawk tried not to react to Orlovsky’s brutal actions.

  Orlovsky leaned down, getting eye level with Hawk. “Did that bother you?”

  Hawk shook his head. “If they wanted to frame me, I can’t say that I care what you did to them.”