“Is the intel solid, Alex? No bullshit.”
“Intel is rock solid,” Hammond replied. “I wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t.”
There was another long pause. “You’ll need to sign off on this,” the man said. “That’s gonna stay between you and me, my friend, and I’ll shred it the minute the team’s back, but I need you to cover my ass on this one in case it goes berserk.”
Hammond nodded. “You got it. I’ll forward you the updated details and everything I’ve got in a couple of minutes.”
“You owe me big, Alex,” his friend said. “And don’t think for a minute that I won’t be cashing in that chip in due time.”
Back in the Suburban, Hammond typed a new set of instructions to Pierre. The DGSE agent wasn’t going to be happy, but with what Hammond was promising him, Pierre wouldn’t be able to resist doing one last thing for him.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Kommetjie, South Africa
White’s energy was depleted. He was psychologically and emotionally exhausted, his head spinning nonstop with incomprehension. At first, he hadn’t trusted the validity of the audio recordings Oxley had played to him. Audio recordings were easily altered. But the more he listened to Oxley’s explanations, the less his faith in Hammond endured.
Oxley showed him correspondence—approvals and other emails—that proved CONQUEST wasn’t at all what Hammond had described to him just a couple of days ago. Still, despite everything, White’s brain couldn’t reconcile what he knew of Hammond with what Oxley had so clearly and unequivocally exposed.
But upon hearing the recorded conversation between Hammond and a man named Abelard Krantz, in which Hammond shared the itinerary of Maxwell’s helicopter flight, White felt as though he’d been stabbed through the heart. Devastated wasn’t a word strong enough to describe how he felt.
Hammond had been as culpable as Oxley and Krantz in his father’s murder. Hammond had sent his friend to his death, then turned around to comfort his friend’s son, to pretend to be a surrogate father, to lie to him.
And what about Veronica? Or Heather, Hammond’s wife—the future second lady of the United States? Did they know?
No. Veronica doesn’t know. I’m sure of it, White thought. And she can never learn the truth. It is not for her to bear the weight and the shame of her father’s crimes.
Humble, trustworthy, but ruthless when he needed to be, Hammond portrayed the image of the perfect gentleman-warrior. People across both sides of the political aisle trusted him. Everyone knew that the president-elect had won the election so easily because Hammond’s name was on the ticket. Vice president for four years, and then who knew? The highest office was well within his reach.
This is pure madness, White thought. Alexander Hammond is a fraud.
In front of him, Oxley was on his second glass of white wine, seated with his legs crossed in front of him. The man had said his piece. He was simply waiting for White to come to terms with what he’d learned.
“You know what, Clayton,” Oxley said, “this wine actually tastes much better on the second glass.”
White wasn’t in the mood for small talk. Wine was the last thing on his mind. He felt sick to his stomach.
“Did you do it? Did you kill the prisoners?” White asked, thinking about the real CONQUEST.
Oxley shrugged. “What was I supposed to do with them? Nobody wanted to be associated with these men. They were terrorists, Clayton,” Oxley explained. “You were there, too, weren’t you? I see it in your eyes. You served. You fought. You and I—we’re the same.”
White disagreed, but he wasn’t about to contradict Oxley while being tied to a chair. He was stunned by Oxley’s honesty. He’d at least expected some kind of denial. On the contrary, Oxley was taking full accountability for his actions, although White doubted Oxley would be as forthcoming in a court of law.
“People like Hammond entrusted me with the responsibility of dealing with these human feces,” Oxley said. “Once it was clear that neither your country nor mine was going to take them in, I made the necessary arrangements. As per their request.”
“Why did you tell me all this?” he asked.
“I want you to understand who Alexander Hammond really is,” Oxley said, holding his phone in his left hand. “He isn’t a man to be trusted.”
“And you are?” White asked.
“Well, I guess it depends who you talk to.” Oxley chuckled. Then his voice turned serious, almost admonishing. “But I’ve held up my end of the bargain and never asked for anything in return. Why? Because it’s my duty to do so. Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve built, all of it, I did for my country and my family. And I swear to God that I’ll spend the next decade building a better South Africa.”