Brady Hawk Series, Books 4-6

by R. J. Patterson

  Needing to clear his head and think, Blunt decided to inject the man with another dose of sedative to extend his long nap. After ensuring at least another few hours of peace, Blunt hung the Do Not Disturb sign on his door and lumbered upstairs to the veranda for a cup of coffee.

  He was settling into his seat when his phone rang with a call from Hawk.

  “Sorry I didn’t call you back until now,” Hawk said. “I’d already gone dark by the time you called. I wish I’d heard your message sooner.”

  “Apparently it didn’t matter,” Blunt said with a laugh. “Where’s McGinn?”

  “What’s left of him is feeding the sharks.”

  “What’s left of him?”

  “Drone strike. Wiped out The Ajagar. Guess somebody in Washington didn’t want to take any chances with the truth leaking out about what was going on.”

  “A drone strike? Unreal.” He paused to take a sip of his coffee. “But why didn’t they go after you? Seems rather odd, doesn’t it?”

  “We were running toward a more populated area before the drone changed course and zeroed in on the ship.”

  “Where were you when this happened? In Berbera?”

  “We were near the port there, yes.”

  “Whoever was behind that drone strike has a helluva lot of explaining to do,” Blunt said.

  “We’re heading back your way,” Hawk said. “Can you send the plane?”

  “I’ve been compromised, so I’ve got my hands full at the moment.”

  “Of what? A glass of scotch?”

  Blunt forced a laugh. “Too early for that. No, I’ve captured a man, and I’m still holding him.”

  “You’re catching about as many breaks as we are. Got any plans for him?”

  “At the moment, I’m trying to make sure this remains hush-hush. But I need to get some answers out of the guy. Any suggestions?”

  “I wouldn’t waste my time,” Hawk said. “We know who is coming after us.”

  “And who’s that?”

  “Someone from within the CIA. Don’t know any names though.”

  “Perhaps you’re right. You and I both have plenty of enemies, even within the borders of our fine country.”

  “I’d like to eliminate some of them,” Hawk said.

  Blunt stirred his coffee for a few seconds and then placed the spoon on the saucer. “Before you do anything rash, we need to talk in person.”

  “So, the plane is out of the question at this point?”

  “Forget the plane. Do you think you can find a way to get to the border in Djibouti?”

  “I’m sure Alex and I can come up with something.”

  “Good. Get to the border, and then go to Camp Lemonnier. You’ll find some friendly faces there. Ask for General Van Fortner.”

  Hawk remained silent, longer than usual.

  “Hawk? You there?” Blunt asked.

  “Yeah, I’m still here. Just trying to figure out if going to a U.S. military installation is a good idea at the moment.”

  “The CIA and the military aren’t working in concert to eliminate you. If they were, it’d already have been done.”

  “You’re not exactly instilling loads of confidence in me right now, you know that?”

  Blunt chuckled. “Just figure out a way to get there, and I’ll try to meet you there. My situation here is really touch-and-go, but I’ll be in touch.”

  “Good luck,” Hawk said.

  “Same to you.”

  Blunt had been seething since he realized how he’d been double-crossed by Roland. Against better judgment, Blunt dialed Roland’s number.

  “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to ever talk to me again,” Roland said as he answered Blunt’s call.

  “How could you?”

  “How could I do what?”

  “Don’t play coy with me,” Blunt said. “We’ve been friends a long time. If you’re at least trying to kill me, come right out and say it.”

  “Busted,” Roland said. “I’m not going to hide it any longer since I’ve got a man there to do the job right now.”

  Blunt grew enraged. He got up out of his chair, slapped down some money on the table, and headed back to his room. As he walked down the hall, Blunt grew even angrier.

  “I’ll call you back in a minute,” Blunt said.

  He marched into his room and locked the door behind him. He peered over the balcony, estimating that the fall onto the cobblestone street below would kill the man.

  Blunt worked furiously, untying the man’s bindings. But the man didn’t wake up. Dragging the man’s body over to the porch, Blunt decided to go with the suicide route. He heaved the spy over the edge and waited inside until he heard the thud.

  Once the man hit the ground, Blunt walked downstairs and out onto the street. The commotion over a dead body in the open wasn’t nearly what Blunt thought it would be. Only one man knelt next to the body, while several others took pictures with their cell phones. Blunt joined them, snapping a few pictures of his own before texting the photo of the dead agent to Roland.

  “You just signed your death warrant,” Roland texted Blunt.

  “Looks like I’d already done that but welcome to the club … and take a number,” Blunt fired back.

  He put his phone in his pocket and disappeared into the crowd milling around the market.

  CHAPTER 40

  Somaliland, Somalia

  HAWK WASN’T EXCITED about the prospect of traversing Somalia’s dangerous roads to get to Camp Lemonnier outside of Djibouti. Aside from the ever-challenging task of negotiating a border crossing in eastern Africa, Hawk needed transportation and cash. Those two items were vital to survival under normal circumstances. But killing several operatives from the region’s prevailing terrorist organization made their situation anything but normal.

  “What’s our next move?” Alex asked.

  “Blunt wants us to meet him at Camp Lemonnier.”

  “So, no plane?”

  Hawk shook his head.

  “Then we need to get out of here,” Alex said. “It’s only a matter of time before Al-Shabaab sends some men back here to investigate why their men are missing.”

  “And Al Hasib, too.”

  Alex turned to watch The Ajagar, which continued burning in the channel.

  “Before we go though, we have to do something first.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “We need to dispose of all the Sarin and burn that plant to the ground.”

  Alex cocked her head to one side. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? How are we going to get rid of it without endangering anyone?”

  “We’re going to dump it into the harbor.”

  “You’re just going to put all the chemicals into the water?”

  “Better than letting someone vaporize it and kill thousands of innocent people. Now, let’s get going.”

  Hawk and Alex returned to Garaar’s makeshift chemical plant. Garaar’s body was still lying in a pool of blood when they re-entered the main lab. Hawk wasted no time in identifying the two fifty-five-gallon drums that Garaar was saving for Al Hasib.

  “You think that’s it?” Alex asked, gesturing toward the drums.

  “While you have to consider the source, McGinn told me there were two other barrels. Not sure what purpose it would serve lying to me about that, especially if he planned to kill me.”

  “I’ll make one more pass through the building and see what I can find.”

  Hawk loaded the barrels one by one onto a dolly and carted them down to the dock. He carefully cut a hole in the top of each drum before dumping them into the water.

  When he returned to the building, Alex had a wide grin plastered across her face along with her computer bag slung across her shoulder.

  “What is it? Did you find another barrel?” Hawk asked.

  “I didn’t, which is one of the reasons I’m smiling.”

  “And the other?”

  “Two reasons. First, I got my compu
ter back.” She then held up a pair of keys. “And next, these go to Garaar’s Land Rover.”

  “Better than McGinn’s piece of junk.”

  The sun still hung low in the sky, but Berbera was starting to come to life. Hawk and Alex hustled over to Garaar’s vehicle and fired it up.

  Once they reached the compound, they found five-thousand dollars stashed in a hollow bottomed drawer in McGinn’s desk.

  “This ought to be enough,” Hawk said.

  He grabbed a scarf on the back of McGinn’s chair and handed it to Alex. “You’re going to need this too. We’re already going to stand out. No use in making it more obvious.”

  Hawk also wrapped a keffiyeh around his head he found lying around before exiting the compound.

  “Ready to navigate?” he asked after they climbed into the truck.

  Road Number 1 was a flat highway that connected small cities throughout the country’s sparsely populated northern region. Hawk expressed his displeasure at Somalian infrastructure in no uncertain terms upon studying the road map Alex pulled up on her computer.

  “Who doesn’t build a road along the coast? This makes no sense,” he said.

  “I doubt people around here are interested in making scenic drives through coastal towns.”

  “You have a point, though it’d be nice to slice six hours off this trip by going more direct.”

  “This bad boy does have four-wheel drive and tires built for desert terrain.”

  Hawk shook his head. “Dying of thirst in the desert is a personal nightmare of mine. I’ll pass.”

  “Getting shot in the head is mine.”

  Hawk huffed a laugh through his nose. “Looks like we both got into the wrong business.”

  Hawk studied the map once more before hitting the road. Road Number 1 went west out of Berbera and continued for a long stretch until it headed north. It eventually turned back east and wound up at the border of Djibouti.

  ***

  THE FIRST NINE HOURS of their ten-hour trip to the border was rather uneventful until they approached Saylac, a coastal border town located about sixty kilometers south of Djibouti. Suspicious if the detour was real, Hawk complied with the uniformed man directing him to take a dirt road due west.

  After two minutes of driving down a winding road, Hawk noticed there wasn’t anyone else around. They zipped through a neighborhood, but it appeared abandoned.

  “I don’t like this at all,” Hawk said. “I’m turning around.”

  Hawk hit the brakes and backed up into an alleyway. But he didn’t get very far when Alex screamed.

  “Hawk! Look out!”

  A black SUV rolled up behind them, and two men brandishing rifles were in the process of shimmying out the backseat windows, presumably to begin firing. Hawk shoved the gear back into drive and hit the gas. The kicked up dust gave Hawk a momentary advantage, creating a smokescreen to disappear into. But it also created an inescapable trail.

  Bullets riddled the back of their vehicle as gunfire erupted.

  “Think you can find me a way out of this mess?” Hawk asked.

  Alex typed away on her computer. “It’s so much easier to help you when I’m not being shot at.”

  “Just find me a damn road—no, forget it. I’ve got an idea.”

  Hawk swung the car around, spinning one hundred eighty degrees, which caught his assailants off guard. He remembered seeing a large dirt mound about two hundred meters before the SUV roared up behind them. His plan was simple: use the dusty trail to his advantage.

  Hawk roared back down the road toward the mound.

  “You might want to put that thing away and hold on,” Hawk said to Alex.

  She shoved the computer back into her bag and tucked it beneath her feet.

  Then Hawk slowed down.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Saving our lives.”

  The SUV was right behind them now and firing more bullets. The back windshield finally shattered, and several bullets whizzed toward the front seat and hit the windshield.

  “I’d like to know some specifics please,” Alex said as she stared at the mound in front of them. “This doesn’t seem to be—”

  Hawk jerked the wheel, flinging an unprepared Alex to the left. He’d maneuvered the SUV out of the way just in time to see the SUV behind them go careening up the mound and over. The assailants’ vehicle landed hard on its side. Hawk then slowed down and took aim for the roof.

  “You’re going to get us killed,” Alex said.

  “If we don’t kill them first, they’re definitely going to kill us.”

  Hawk jammed his foot on the gas and barreled straight for the vehicle. The aftermath was a mangled pile of metal wrapped around the front of their truck.

  Wasting no time, Hawk jumped out and crept toward the other side of the SUV. He climbed on top and shot each one of the men in the head, except the driver, who was trying to say something.

  “What was that?” Hawk asked.

  The driver’s face was a bloodied mess.

  “Others will come for you,” the man said. “We know what you did in Berbera.”

  “Maybe they’ll stop after they see what I did to you,” Hawk said before shooting the man twice in the head and once in the chest.

  Hawk rushed back toward his vehicle when he noticed Alex standing on the other side, her bag slung over her shoulder.

  “Good going, Hawk. Our ride is about to go up in flames,” she said pointing to the smoke pouring out the rear of the vehicle.

  She took off running in an effort to escape the imminent explosion. Hawk was right behind her.

  “Maybe next time you can think of a plan that’s not so destructive. Getting the job done at all costs isn’t always the smartest move.”

  “Are you worried about how we’re going to get to the border?”

  “Alive and in one piece? Yeah—I am.”

  “Well, don’t worry. You still got that five grand?”

  “Thinking about getting a taxi?”

  Hawk shook his head. “It’d be too easy for some other Al-Shabaab thugs to find us before we get there. We need to travel a little more discreetly.”

  ***

  AN HOUR LATER, Hawk and Alex were saddled on a pair of camels that set them back three-thousand dollars. It was more than market price, but Hawk didn’t have time to bicker over the price. Alex managed to talk the man into throwing in some traditional attire for her and Hawk to wear. Two hours later, they were approaching the Djibouti border.

  “This ought to be interesting,” Alex said. “I want to hear how you’re going to explain that we arrived in the country via plane but now we’re exiting on camels.”

  Hawk grinned. “I’m going to let you explain that one. You’re the one who speaks French, not me. Besides, I bet they’ll let us do anything we want once we gift them these camels.”

  “Untraceable bribes are the best kind,” Alex said.

  “Not that it matters out here.”

  It took Alex less than fifteen minutes to explain to the border patrol agent what they were doing on camels. He told them he couldn’t permit them to leave, not without the authority of a higher-ranking government officer. Then Alex turned on her charm. She asked the man if that was necessary if she was going to give him their camels.

  Out came the stamp—and they were through into Djibouti.

  Hawk offered five-hundred dollars to another agent on the other side to drive them to Camp Lemonnier. Once there, they asked for the gate MP to contact General Van Fortner and that they needed to speak to him on the orders of J.D. Blunt. After a few phone calls and verification of their identities, Hawk and Alex were forced to surrender their weapons and were taken via an armed escort to a hangar to meet General Fortner.

  Fortner emerged from an office door in the hangar to greet his guests. While Blunt had mentioned that Fortner was twenty years his younger, Hawk struggled to see it. Perhaps it was the effects of leading a military installation located in
one of the hottest regions on the planet. Or maybe it was just life in the military. Whatever the reason, Fortner’s face was leathery, his hat covering up what wisps of hair escaped. Hawk noted that he’d never seen any fresh-faced generals, even ones that made the rank far ahead of their peers, even ones that didn’t live in such harsh environments.

  Fortner broke into a smile and offered his hand to Hawk and Alex.

  “You must be Brady Hawk,” Fortner said, shaking Hawk’s hand. He turned toward Alex. “And you’re Alex Duncan?”

  They both nodded.

  “It’s my pleasure to meet both of you. J.D. spoke highly of you both the last time we talked.”

  “When was that?” Hawk asked.

  “Several weeks ago when he was trying to escape that shit storm Washington was raining down on him.”

  “I’m glad someone has his back.”

  “That’s a dwindling crowd these days.”

  “We know that all too well,” Alex said.

  Fortner looked Hawk and Alex up and down. It hadn’t even occurred to Hawk how questionable their grimy clothes might appear to someone else.

  “Rough trip over here?” Fortner said with a grin.

  “If you only knew the half of it,” Hawk said.

  “Let me guess—terrorists, guns, camels, desert? Does that about cover it?”

  “How’d you know?” Alex asked.

  Fortner shook his head. “I live in Djibouti on the border of Somalia. That’s called Monday around here.”

  “Think you can get us to Tuesday?” Hawk asked.

  “Tell me what you need, and I’ll make it happen.”

  Hawk’s phone buzzed. “Excuse me, General. I need to take this call.”

  Hawk stepped away from the crowd and left Alex to charm the general. He glanced down at his phone before answering it.

  “Now’s not a good time, Emily,” Hawk said in a whisper.

  “I need your help.”

  “I’m not sure I can help you right now,” he said.

  “Please, I’m begging you. They’re going to kill me if you don’t do what Parker asks you to do. I need you to come to Cape Town.”