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Hawke looked at the man. He had seen him enough times on the television news but he looked different up close and personal — older, more wrinkles, and a cast-iron slate-gray stare.

“Because she called me and asked for help just before they took her.”

Secretary Brooke frowned deeply. “I see. And how does she know you in the first place?”

For a short moment, Hawke thought about spinning the Pentagon chief some kind of yarn. They weren’t just talking about Joe Hawke, he contemplated, but also Agent Nightingale. For all he knew she didn’t want the details of her relationships spilled all over the floor, no matter who was asking, but this was one of the most senior men in the American Government, and at this point Hawke was fresh out of ideas about how to save his friend. He knew his best play was to try and get Brooke onside as soon as possible, and you didn’t do that by kicking things off with a bunch of lies.

“She saved my life when she worked for the CIA. As I say, I was in her apartment because I was trying to help her. That’s all — and it’s the truth.”

“I believe you,” Brooke said,

“You’d take our word just like that?” Ryan said, still shocked that one of the most powerful men on the planet was now sitting opposite him.

Brooke stared him down and fixed his eyes back on Hawke. “Of course I wouldn’t take your word for it.” He produced Hawke’s phone from a pocket, confiscated from the Englishman earlier when they were arrested back in Tribeca. “But I would take Agent Nightingale’s word for it.”

Hawke looked down at the message she had sent him. The image of the man with the knife was right there again, mocking him, enraging him. He raised his eyes from the phone back up to Brooke.

“For this reason, I know you’re legitimate and not lying to me, so I’m prepared to hear you out and give you a chance.”

Hawke nodded. “Good, but what I don’t understand is what any of this has got to do with you. Just what do you know about all of this?”

Brooke hesitated for a moment before replying. It looked like he was debating with himself just how much information to give them, and Hawke guessed that was exactly what was going on. After a few seconds of heavy silence, Brooke responded.

“I know more than you can imagine — I’m the US Defense Secretary, Mr Hawke.”

“I understand that, but why were your men at Nightingale’s apartment?”

Another pause. “She was under surveillance.”

“Some great surveillance…” Lea said, but shut up immediately when Brooke turned his slate gray eyes to her.

“Who took her?” Hawke asked.

Brooke got straight to business. “We think a Russian citizen named Maxim Vetrov is behind the kidnapping, and that it has something to do with some work the agent was working on in relation to you.”

“Me?” Hawke was stunned — his fears had been confirmed. He had put Nightingale’s life in danger.

“Yes, you and your team working under the British politician, Eden.”

“You know about Sir Richard?” Lea asked, concerned.

Brooke nodded gravely. “This goes higher than you can possibly imagine, any of you, including Sir Richard Eden.”

Hawke, Lea and Ryan shared a concerned glance.

Brooke continued. “Unfortunately what we’re dealing with here is so highly classified that only a handful of people know about it in the entire world, so you’ll understand when I tell you that I can only release certain information to you and no more.”

“Of course,” Hawke said. “Who is this Vetrov character?”

“Maxim Vetrov is the original Russian oligarch. He has everything you can think of and then ten times more — the luxury apartments, the private islands and the yachts. He’s even been to space three times on the Russian Space Program just for the hell of the ride up there.”

Lea sighed. “Sounds like he has money to burn.”

“If he burned his money he’d have enough to power New York City…” Brooke said, still no hint of a smile. “Our profilers tell me he exhibits the classic signs of a sociopath and an egomaniac, and we know for a fact he has personally killed dozens of people, mostly enemies but some of his own just for recreation purposes.”

“What an asshole,” Lea said.

Brooke ignored her. “Of course, we always have people like Vetrov under surveillance, but things got more interesting very recently when he had another Russian businessman named Sorokin killed in Berlin.”

“Who?” Hawke said.

“Yevgeny Sorokin was a drugs kingpin from Moscow. Not the kind of person we’d waste too much of our precious time on, but we started paying more attention to him recently when he started communicating with Sheng Fang, with whom I know you are acquainted.”

“Don’t remind me,” Lea said.

Hawke looked at her and knew she was thinking about Luk. It had bothered him too that they were unable to take the Hong Kong psychopath down, but now wasn’t the time to worry about it. He returned his gaze to the Secretary. “Go on, please.”

“Sheng hired Sorokin to deliver our stolen Tesla device into Tokyo Bay, as you all know.”

Ryan lowered his head and covered his eyes. Lea turned and put an arm around his shoulder.

“For that, Mr Bale, we all have a great deal to thank you for. I will tell you in confidence that the President of the United States is aware of the role you personally played in retrieving the device and is truly grateful to you — to you all. It’s another reason why you’re talking to me right now and not in Sing Sing waiting for your lawyers.”

Brooke turned to Hawke. “To say Sorokin was a double-crosser is an understatement. He always planned on betraying Sheng right from the start, but unfortunately for him, Maxim Vetrov has had long-standing plans of his own to locate the source of eternal life.” He looked at their shocked faces. “Yes, I know all about that, of course.”

“I see… and that’s why he killed Sorokin?” Hawke said.

Brooke nodded. “Yes, outside the airport in Berlin. His plan was to kill both Sorokin and the Chinese agent Zhang Xiaoli, but she got away with the map.”

Hawke frowned. It was beginning to sound like Dragonfly wasn’t the traitor he had thought she was. “But what I don’t understand is why Vetrov kidnapped Agent Nightingale — it can’t be just for her research into the map, surely.”

Brooke cleared his throat and glanced around the room uncomfortably.

“Agent Nightingale calls herself Alexandra Reeve.”

Hawke looked at the Pentagon Chief and almost smiled. He’d known the enigmatic former CIA agent for many years and in all that time she’d played many games with him about her name. Now, at last, he knew. “I didn’t know that,” he said. “I never knew her real name.”

“I said she calls herself that, it’s not her real name, Hawke.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Her real name is Alexandra Brooke.”

“You mean…”

Secretary Brooke’s eyes narrowed with emotion for a moment and the silence in the grim holding room grew heavier. “That’s right, Hawke. Alex is my daughter.”

The news hit Hawke like a sledgehammer. All those years and Nightingale had never told him her name or anything else about her personal life, and yet her father was the American Secretary of Defense, and a serious contender for President at the next election. For a second he had a hard time believing any of this was really happening. “But she never said anything to me…”

Brooke sighed. “My daughter and I are estranged. She never forgave me for divorcing her mother — Katie. She turned her back on me after that day and never said another word to me. It tears me up. That’s why she uses her mother’s name. I’d do anything to get my baby back, Hawke.”